Terror Twin [Def Leppard] #Wattys2016

XXIII: Sea Of Love

1987.

Phil was finding it hard to not go ahead and join Steve on his benders.

Christmas has come and gone.

So had New Year's.

All Steve cared about was liquor, and all Phil cared about was him.

It was a vicious cycle.

Steve found it harder to play when he was drunk, so he got angry and drank more. Then when he played worse, it went all over again.

January, 1987.

Hysteria was done. It was only a matter of time until they released it, but Joe's idea of March had flown out the window after all the troubles Mutt was having with legal shite.

Phil sat up on their bed, head buried in his hands. Steve was passed out beside him. All hope of cuddling, or just holding each other, had been tossed away after the end of the last tour. Phil still wasn't sure what had triggered Steve to begin drinking again.

He fumbled with the ring on his finger. Through all the months, years, even, of their unhealthy, toxic relationship, Phil had never stopped loving Steve. He knew that Steve loved him, too. Somewhere deep down.

Steve had never taken the ring off, through it all. It brought him comfort when he had short moments of fear.

Will I die like this? Should I stop? How do I stop?

The bottle found its way into his palm again, and he tipped it back, the singe familiar down his throat, unlike the answers to his own questions.

"Phil." He murmured, blinking his hazy eyes open.

"Yes, baby?" Phil whispered, laying his land over Steve's gently.

"Am I going to die?"

The words hung in the air for a good few seconds before Phil could regain his control to reply.

"Not as long as I live. I promised I would help you through, Steph', and I don't break my promises. I love you.. always will."

Phil took advantage of the gentle moment. They were rare. He leaned over and pressed his lips to Steve's forehead, who closed his eyes blissfully.

"I love you, too."

"Would you like to watch a movie today?" Phil asked, helping Steve sit up.

"Okay." Steve mumbled, climbing into Phil's lap. He was faintly aware Phil couldn't get up and deal with putting in a movie then, but he didn't care. He was feeling.. affectionate. Something he hadn't felt in quite a while.

"Do you need anything.. to drink?" Phil asked, already knowing the answer.

"No, I think I'm okay."

Phil almost fainted.

"Okay, sweetheart.. but you're gonna have to move so I can put it in a movie." Phil hands rested on Steve's hips, and he found himself wishing Steve didn't have to move.

"Touch me."

"..Steve? You're drunk."

"No I'm not." He replied indignantly, wrapping his arms around Phil's shoulders. "I slept it all off. I feel better."

"Does that mean you'll.. stop?" Phil tentatively asked, running his fingers through Steve's unbrushed blonde locks. He hadn't gotten a trim in so long, his hair was getting longer and wavier, and Phil loved it. It was gorgeous, the way it twisted around his forehead, and fell perfectly without him even trying.