Tymix Fanfiction (finding X)

Alcohol and Facial Recognition

As the apartment's lock unlatched with a series of clean clicks, Remix felt Tyler jump a little, attempting to wiggle out of his hold. He conceded, and loosened his grip around the man's waist, but made sure to continue supporting him, to keep him from toppling over the edge of the building's open railings.

"Wait... wait, you can't come in," Tyler mumbled, head still buried low in the crook of Remix's neck, "I already, uh.... I already have a partner."

Squinting, Remix peered down at his boyfriend.

Insistent, Tyler struggled to his feet, swaying slightly as he pushed away from Remix's outstretched arms, his face tinged with the faintest of flushes. Really, if Remix hadn't seen him drunk before, he'd have assumed the man was just wearing one too many layers of clothing. He showed more colour on his cheeks* when they were flirting, for god's sake.

"I'm quite sorry for your inconvenience-" Eyes half-lidded, Tyler backed up against the door - which Remix had just unlocked, with keys from his own pocket - and promptly fell through, the thick wooden board giving way effortlessly to his weight.

Immediately, Remix leapt forwards, but was only successful in cupping a hand behind Tyler's head before they both crashed to the floor, cringing as their collective weight knocked over several towers of stacked recycling that he'd washed and set by the door just that morning, causing a small cacophony as they toppled and bounced over smooth ceramic tile. Fortunately, Remix's hand kept Tyler from knocking out what semblance of consciousness was left in his head, but the impact had almost crushed the fragile bones, and he sucked in a quick gasp, pulling the hand back close to his chest.

Ow, ow, owww- Silently berating himself for being too much of a weak STEM nerd to keep Tyler from making contact with the ground, he examined his reddening knuckles, relaxing when he found no hint of fracture, just some mild bruising from the sheer influence of gravity on the mass of Tyler's thick skull. There really wasn't much else to be expected, though, when one behaves as though one is a human cushion.

"What...?" Tyler blinked up at Remix, (who looked down, then suddenly flushed), lying lengthwise atop him, and narrowed his eyes. "Please remove your person from my...body."

"H-hold up, mait-" Stammered Remix, scrambling to one side, wincing as his bony-ass knee accidentally bumped against the hard floor tiles and audibly cracked**, the heat rushing to his face particularly noticeable in the cool nighttime air. "I fell on you, alright? I- ugh, I don't know why I'm even explaining myself to you."

"I already have a partner," Tyler repeated, adamant. He shifted on the floor, trying to re-orient himself and get up, but apparently found the task too daunting for his alcohol addled brain, and slumped back to lie on the ground, a tiny frown marring his features. Remix suddenly realised that, though he'd protected Tyler's head from an unfortunate collision with the floor, he'd fallen almost directly on top of his boyfriend, which meant that, really, the human cushion in this conversation was Tyler.

Voice softened by awkward guilt, he prompted, "Hey, does it hurt anywhere? Your back, I mean? Do you think you sprained anything?"

"Noooooooo..." Tyler pouted. "My back is already reserved for my partner."

Remix suppressed the urge to violently collide his own head with the floor. Instead, he closed his eyes, counted to five, then re-opened his eyes, forcing out a gentle smile. Leaning over, he tapped the other man on the shoulder, and said, through gritted teeth, "We need to get you onto the bed."

Ignoring the fact that the blush on his face didn't seem to be going away any time soon, he heaved Tyler into an upright sitting position, and - very slowly - forced himself to pull the man towards the bedroom, huffing and puffing all along the way. All the while, he had to put up with tidbits of misbehaviour; muffled whispers of "Stop kidnapping me." and intermittent attempts to break free from the abductor's grasp, which, despite the inebriated state of the abductee, almost succeeded several times due to the fact that the abductor was spindly.