Terror Twin [Def Leppard] #Wattys2016

III: High 'N Dry

Phil remembered what he had said to Steve, although Steve may have forgotten by the time Joe had dropped each member off. Phil followed Steve into his apartment, fully aware that he was welcome as he flopped onto the sofa.

"Hey Clark, you said you wanted to go drinkin' tonight?" Phil reminded his taller friend, watching him bustle around the kitchen.

"Yeah, sure. Just gimme a moment; gotta pop some pills for this headache." Steve hadn't mentioned having a headache until just then, but Phil knew he wasn't one to complain loudly, and didn't question it.

"A'ight. It's s'posed to be chilly tonight, so I'm borrowing one of your jackets." Phil declared, picking one off the coat rack, making sure it wasn't Steve's favorite leather jacket. As expected, Steve grabbed that certain jacket when he met Phil by the door.

Phil wasn't so much of a drinker rather than Steve's guardian angel that night, making sure he wasn't too drunk or doing anything dumb. But in his sobriety, he realized he could count how many drinks his friend was downing. And he also realized it was in no way healthy.

Although Phil was quite a heavy drinker himself, he was making efforts to end his 'addiction' - although he never liked calling it that. It was all in good fun, after all - that's what Steve always said.

Phil checked his watch. Midnight? Fuck! He reached for Steve, gently tugging him backwards. Steve stumbled, falling ungracefully into Phil's lap. What a wonderful situation we're in now, Phil grumbled internally.

"Steve.. How many beers have you had?"

It was a test. Phil knew. It was thirteen. He didn't know why he let Steve keep buying more. He couldn't bring himself to tell those eyes, "no". But even Phil knew enough was enough.

"Not..sure? M-maybe f-f-four...?" came the slurred reply.

Bullshit.

Phil rolled his eyes, gently removing Steve from his lap and linking his arm with his friend's. This was something they'd always do - to keep together in a crowd, or just for comfort in public.

Steve was having none of it.

He fought, pulling away, fighting with his nails to get Phil off him.

"Steve! What the fuck is wrong with you?!" Phil shouted, still only just barely heard over the blaring music.

Steve stomped out of the bar, dragging his feet and holding onto whatever he could find to steady himself. Phil darted after him, afraid to touch him but bravely wrapping his arm around Steve's waist. The taller of the two verbally protested, a slur of "not needing help". Phil held on.

He stumbled to the car with Steve in tow, leaning him up against the door once they reached it.

"Steve, why did you do this to yourself?"

"Why d-did you.. let me?" Steve choked out, laughing dumbly as he rested his hands behind his head.

"Bloody hell, you're a mess.." Phil closed his eyes, feeling the burn of the slight amount of alcohol he had drank behind them.

Steve wiggled out of Phil's grip and slid into his side of the car.
Phil popped into the driver's seat, firing it up, thankful that he was in a good enough state to drive.

Phil took Steve back to his apartment, where he knew there would be no alcohol for him to find. Phil rummaged through his pockets, tugging out his house key and rushing around to help Steve out of the car.

"I d-don't..need, help!" Steve spluttered, all but falling on top of Phil.

"Well, you're gonna get it." Phil rumbled under his breath, practically carrying the younger man up the stairs, in the front door, and all the way upstairs where he dumped him on his bed. Steve immediately began to make himself comfortable, curling himself up like a burrito in Phil's blankets. Phil rolled his eyes.

Gently, the shorter man tugged Steve out of his clothes; leaving him in just his boxers to sleep. Phil did the same to himself, curling up next to Steve. Pulling some blankets off him, he held Steve against his chest. It quieted the man for a moment.

Phil was about to doze off when he felt the other man shaking, his face buried in his neck. Phil glanced down, feeling something wet hit his collarbone.

Steve was crying.

Phil bit his lip softly, scooting down so he could look his friend in the eyes.

"Steve, baby, what's wrong?"

Steve's breath hitches at the nickname, a small smile dancing across his lips. Although he wouldn't look Phil in the eye, but something about his concerned voice calmed his nerves. He stuck his face back into Phil's chest, cuddling up as close as humanly possible.

"C'mon, Steve... Why are you crying? I can help."

Phil heard faint laughter from under his chin.

"I-I don't even k-know." Steve blabbed, and Phil felt chapped lips pressing against his neck, giving it a little kiss. "Maybe it's b-because I won't... won't get to hold you like this on a d-daily basis.."

"You don't know that, Steph'." Phil murmured, taking advantage of the situation. He figured sober-Steve would deck him if he ever used his real name.

Surprisingly, Steve giggled.

"I like it when you call me 'Steph'." He mumbled.

"Stephen Maynard Clark. Such a pretty name for a pretty man like you." Phil didn't know where he was going with this, or what he was doing. It simply felt right to shower this beautiful man in compliments, no matter how in-shambles he was at the moment.

Steve let out a little burp, complete with a shy grin. He's practically a child when he's drunk.

Phil chuckled softly, wrapping his arms around Steve's slim waist. The crying had stopped altogether. Phil just had that affect on him. Soft breaths on his chest alerted him that Steve had slipped off into sleep.

Alone with his thoughts, Phil swore off drinking that night. He'd seen worse. Of course, he'd seen worse.

But that was Steve. His best mate, and the man he loved - while he wasn't sure in what way he loved him, he knew he did.

Phil blew out a sigh, shutting his eyes and trying to clear his head.

There was no denying what the drink did to Steve. Perhaps his "addiction" wasn't as bad as it could be, but Phil was determined to end it before it got any worse. If Steve ever was hurt because of it he would never be able to forgive himself.

"Steve, I know you can't hear me, but I promise you. I promise I will help you get through this. You will survive."