Roomies {Harringrove}

Day Eight

Steve woke up from a hand grabbing his shoulder, letting out a shriek. It took him a second to come to his senses and realise it wasn't a threat but by then, Billy was laughing his ass off. He spluttered a bit, ignoring the fact that for some stupid reason, he felt more happy than mad to have been shaken awake at what his eyes told him was the middle of the night. "Dude, what the fuck?!"

"Shh... Don't wake those whities, let's gooooooooo~"

"Dude... You're white."

"Well yeah but they have those giant white suits on. They're like ghosts. If ghosts were dicks. Can ghosts be dicks? Do ghosts have dicks? I guess they would... Can ghosts have sex? Are ghost... Babies... A thing? Damn, born dead from the very get-go, that fucking describes my life~"

Steve stared at Billy who had a dumb smile on his face, narrowing his eyes. "Dude... What's going on with you?"

"Shh. It's a surprise!"

"Wh- what are you-"

"I'm not sleeping alone, again," he replied with a huff as he dragged Steve out of the room by his wrist. Behind him, Steve had the goofiest smile on his face. It was nice to know he'd been missed. But his joy turned to annoyance and worry when he noticed what was on Billy's bed. A bottle of clear liquid lay there, one that had a third drank from it. He picked it up and sure enough, there was the label, Smironoff.

"Where'd you get this?" He asked slowly, turning to Billy. He hadn't seen it anywhere in the kitchen so he was confused.

"If I told you, they'd kill you." And then he giggled. Billy fucking giggled. Steve had never heard a cuter sound from the man in his life, eyes widening a fraction. Wasn't Billy even more of an asshole when drunk? Where was this coming from? The little laugh washed away his apprehension, however, and he sat down, mumbling to himself.

"Right. Well, thank God for Smirnoff."

"Amen to that!" Steve decided he'd join Billy in his drunkeness. After all, the Russians had captured him once so he deserved to enjoy one of the fruits of their labour. Billy watched him down the exact same amount he had, eyes wide. "Uh... Stevie? It's kinda strong... I mean, it's strong for me and I'm a much better drinker than you."

"Excuse you?" Each wanting to one-up the other, they'd take the bottle from each other and take a swig. Steve got fed up and grabbed the bottle, downing the remnants and immediately declaring he didn't feel any different, despite the warmth making its way up into his head. Billy just snorted, watching him blink twice and lay down on his bed.

"Hey, you better not be sleeping down there."

"Know what else we should totally thank God for? The Russians."

"You probably shouldn't be saying that in a wired room."

"But it's true! I mean they beat me up and I probably definitely would've died back there that one time but they make such awesome alcohol, what the fuck? I'm glad I came here with you. So worth it. I've never had alcohol this good. Corona will never measure up again. Speaking of Russia, I would also like to thank God for however the fuck that Mind Flayer died cos I've been near death quite a bit and I'm still not ready."

"You're so weird," Billy said as he shoved his shoulder. Funny enough, that had actually hurt but Steve held his arm and burst out laughing which had Billy doing it too. They giggled like idiots for the next ten minutes, one starting the other up if either managed to stop. And then, slowly, it filtered off and there was silence.

Billy glanced at his roommate and silently shrugged to himself. Whatever he did could be blamed on the alcohol, anyway, so he shifted back, wanting to be closer to him. Steve moved a slight bit for him but Billy sat right beside him anyway, their knees brushing a bit. For some reason, that sent a twinge of excitement down Steve's spine that lit up his stomach. It was the alcohol, of course, Smirnoff really fucks with your system.