Boris Pavlikovsky angst oneshots (The Goldfinch)

Alcohol Aches

Requested by Bumblebee_is_here

Tw:
Vomiting

Theo's POV.

I woke up to the sound of someone puking from the bathroom. I slowly got up and put on my glasses then walked to the bathroom to see Boris vomiting his brains out. It sounded rough, tears streaked down his face and he had a grip on the toilet so hard his knuckles were white.

I sat down beside him and rubbed his back gently. After he dry heaved a few times he leaned back on my shoulder, breathing heavily.

"You okay?" I asked. He let out a painted hum in response. I laid him down on the floor then I stood up to get a wash cloth. He weakly grabbed my shirt.

"Don't go." He said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I'm just getting a wash cloth, lay on your side if you're still nauseous." I said. He nodded and obeyed.

I grabbed a wash cloth from the drawer under the sink and dampened it then sat down in front of Boris. I helped him sit up and wiped the vomit off his face.

"What made you throw up?" I asked.

"Alcohol." He said simply. I nodded.

"Does this usually happen?" He shrugged and leaned into my shoulder. I rubbed his the back of his neck.

"Let's get you cleaned up. How does a bath sound?" He hummed. I helped him up and sat him down on the bed. I pulled out some clothes for him and me then sat then beside him.

"Wait here." I said.

I walked back into the bathroom and got the water started. I grabbed some bubbles and added them in. I walked back into the living room to see Boris staring of into space. His face looked red and he was playing with his sleeve.

"Boris?" I said. He looked up.

"Hm?"

"Come on." He nodded. I grabbed his hand and walked him into the bathroom. I turned around while he took his clothes off and threw them in the ground. He slowly lowered himself into the water, pulling his knees close. I took my clothes off and got in behind him.

Boris leaned back against me and softly hummed to himself. I grabbed a cup I had brought in and scooped up some water then dumped it on Boris' head. I covered his eyes while I did this.

After his hair was wet I poured some shampoo in my hand and massaged it into his scalp then rinsed it out. When I was done Boris turned around in the most awkward way possible before kissing my forehead. After a while we got out. We laid down on the bed after getting dressed.

"You feeling any better?" I asked.

"Still nauseous but not as gross." Boris said. I pulled him closer. He wrapped his arms around me and snuggled into my chest, closing his eyes. I took my glasses off and dropped them on the ground, too lazy to place them somewhere.

"Potter." Boris said.

"Hm?"

"I'm gonna throw up." I pushed Boris away from me softly and took his hand, guiding him to the bathroom. He sat over the toilet for about 10 minutes dry heaving.

"I'll get you some water." I said before rushing out. I ran down stairs and grabbed a cup then poured some water in it. I carefully rushed back to see Boris slumped against the wall, groaning. It hurt to see him like this. He probably felt like shit.

I tried to hand him the cup but his hand was shaky and I could tell he was struggling just to keep his eyes open. I leaned his head back and took the cup from him, carefully tilting the cup forward, letting the water fall into his mouth in small sips.

"Feel any better?" I asked. He nodded, too exhausted to speak. I helped him back into the bedroom, stumbling myself as I didn't have my glasses on.

We laid back down in our previous position, this time his grip tighter on me though. I felt him shaking in my arms. I thought he was just cold until I heard a quiet sob come from his lips.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Hurts." Was all he said. I hummed and pulled him closer.

"It'll go away, just try and sleep okay?"

"Kay."

Soon I felt the limp weight of Boris in my arms. He looked younger when he slept, almost like a ten year old. It was cute. I began counting each freckle on his face until I fell asleep myself.

When I woke up Boris was still in my arms, lightly snoring. He was smiling, must be dreaming something good. I pushed his hair out of his face and behind his ear. Our hands were conjoined and his skin felt soft.

He slowly opened his eyes and looked at me. "Good morning." He said, his voice still rough from sleeping.

"Good morning, you feel any better?"

"Yeah. Thanks for taking care of me."

"Yeah, that's what friends are for."

"Yeah, friends." Boris looked down. He seemed sad. I shrugged it off.

"Let's go get some food."

"Alright."