AGAINST THE RULES

Chapter 22

Bright was a corpse. Or at least he looked like one as he lay perfectly still on the grass. Win would soon find out he was as heavy as one too.

Heaving and pulling, Win tried to get Bright on his shoulders so he could at least half carry-half drag him into the house without waking anyone up.

How did Bright even get here? How did he get through the gate?

'Carry now, questions later,' Win chastises himself.

He bends down and shifts Bright to his back, he stands carefully, securing Bright's lower legs with his arms. Win begins to walk, his back straining at the effort.

"Well," he mutters. "I did want more of a workout."

Win didn't know how he managed it but finally, he was able to lay Bright carefully on his bed. He bends down and slips off the hood of Bright's sweatshirt to ensure he could breathe when Bright pulls on him and he tumbles down, collapsing on Bright's chest.

"Win," Bright mumbles, speech still slurred. Hand reaching towards Win's face.

"No!", Win says decisively, pushing himself upward. "You are not pulling this shit on me again, Vachirawit." He swats away Bright's hand that keeps on clamping on to him, willing himself to ignore the heady scent of whiskey, cedar and vanilla wafting from Bright's sweat.
"Of course you smell like a fucking angel," Win curses. "Because the gods very obviously have favorites ."

Win slumps down on the floor and closes his eyes. When he hears Bright sulking. "I blame you," he laments. "This is your fault." He repeats it over and over, making anger surge through Win.

"My fault? What exactly is my fault?" 
Win seethes. A part of him knows that arguing with a drunk is pointless but he was beyond caring.

"Your fault," Bright repeats petulantly. 

"You kissed me. Ran out on me. Refused to take my calls. Iced me. Made me face a whole identity crisis by myself. And now, you are literally breaking and entering!," Win says, trying very hard to keep his voice low.

In response, Bright snores.

"Unbelievable," Win says. "You're unbelievable." He stands up and hits Bright with a pillow. Bright startles awake.

"What are you even doing here?," Win demands.

"How can you be with her?," Bright asks back angrily. Followed immediately with him retching - thankfully, nothing comes out but air. He moans, holding the nape of his neck.

Win gives up. It was very clear that a conversation was not possible. "I am calling Saetang. You need to go home."  Win walks towards his phone.

With a speed that seemed superhuman, Bright stands up and pushes Win. They both tumble down the carpeted floor.

Win struggles, wanting to push Bright off him. But Bright plants his palms squarely on the rug, pinning Win down, refusing to let him move.

"No. I am not going home," Bright says, unexpectedly coherent. "I need answers."

"You're the one who needs answers? What about me?," Win says, horrified to realize he no longer sounded angry. He sounded hurt. His brain was such a goddamn traitor, so easily softened by Bright's big brown eyes.

"Get off me!," Win says louder, shoving Bright off him. But that move backfires because all it does is make Bright lose his balance and crash on to Win.

"Why do we keep on falling? It's ridiculous," Win almost shouts.

"Your fault," Bright says, his head resting squarely on Win's chest.