Thomas had done it again. He had left Alex alone in the house and gone drinking after the two had a fight.
Alex was currently in bed, sheets and pillows curled around him in a tent. The air was warm, but his body felt as though his blood was ice in his veins. He gently stroked a pillow, trying to focus on the smooth, silky fabric. It smelt of Thomas. He buried his face into it, a lump forming in his throat. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes, but he wiped them away. He refused to apologise. He refused to cry.
Thomas was the one who fucked up, so Thomas was the one who could fix it.
Alex threw the pillow away, grabbing his laptop from the bedside table. He turned it on, opening Netflix. He clicked Deathnote, feeling the need to watch a shitty movie.
Rain pattered outside, so he turned up the volume as high as it could go and began to watch. It really was terrible.
He decided maybe Disney was better.
So the binge began.
* * *
Thomas stumbled through the rain, his usually poofy hair flat, plastered to his scalp.
As he sauntered into the bar, he recieved a few odd looks, but ignored them. When he got to the bar, he instantly ordered a random vodka drink off the menu, not caring what it was. He told the bartender to put more vodka in than whatever the other ingredients were.
The bartender obliged, handing the drink over promptly. Thomas paid, then downed it. A few scragglers around him watched in amazement, having heard his order.
He began demanding shots, drinking one after the other without falter. The bartender stopped him when he asked for a whole bottle of whiskey though, telling the Virginian that he had drunk more than enough. Thomas flipped him off, then stumbled back out into the streets, rain pelting him.
He soon reached a destination he thought he knew. He knocked on the door, waiting for his friend to open it.
True to his judgement, James Madison appeared in the doorway, staring at Thomas in confusion.
"Thomas what the fuck are you doing on my doorstep?" He asked, rubbing his temples.
"I jus' wanted ta see ma best friend!" Thomas slurred, flinging his arms around James' neck. His legs gave out underneath him as he passed out.
James didn't waver as Thomas' weight fell on him, instead wrapping an arm gently around the skinny man's waist. He picked him up, dumping him on the couch in the living room. He didn't bother doing anything else, because he'd already done this enough times to know that Thomas was comfortable in any position when black-out drunk.
He went to bed himself, closing the door and cutting off the sounds of Thomas' loud snoring.
* * *
Alex had eventually fallen asleep after watching five or six movies. He had fortunately been lying in quite a good position, so his neck wasn't aching when he woke up.
He stood, padded to the kitchen and started making breakfast.
His Sultana Bran tasted especially plain today, but he ignored it, continuing to shove the flakes in his mouth.
As he washed the bowl, he thought about what he would do today. Probably just get some stuff done for Washington, then do some general paperwork.
He nodded to himself, deciding that it was a great plan.
He'd do all that right after another movie though. He tidied up, then went back to the warm pillow assembly.
* * *
James watched silently as Thomas moved around his kitchen making cereal. Surprisingly, Thomas wasn't all that much hungover. Maybe he'd been up before James and had some water.
"Sultana Bran? You hate that stuff." He commented as Thomas poured it into his bowl.
Thomas ignored him, getting the milk instead. James knew this to be code for, 'I had a fight with Alex and I feel like shit but I don't want to apologise yet'.
James rolled his eyes. "You are such an idiot."
Thomas gave him a sharp look, but relaxed again when he remembered how hospitable James was being. He sat down next to his long time best friend.
The two ate in an uncomfortable silence.
"I gotta go apologise." Thomas stood suddenly. James stared at him, nodding. His eyebrows were raised in a sarcastic look. Thomas ignored this, quickly washed his cereal bowl and left.
He strolled around the streets, not caring for the strange looks he was getting. He soon reached him and Alex's place, stepping in. He padded through quietly, careful to not make too much noise. He went straight into master bedroom, seeing a huge tent of pillows on the bed. He could see Alex's body curled up in the middle. He sat next to the tent, smiling at the silhouette of his boyfriend.
He stayed still, simply watching as after a while Alexander began to wake up, shifting around in between the pillows. He threw away the blanket over him, groggily rubbing his eyes. He moved to swing his legs over the bed and slide off, but froze when he saw Thomas.
"I'm sorry baby. I didn't mean to hurt you, I just... I dunno..." Thomas hung his head.
Alex stared at him, then gave a slight smirk. "I'm sorry too."
The two hugged. Alex pulled away quickly, complaining that Thomas, 'Smelt like literal shit' and went to do some work. Thomas followed Alex's critisism and took a shower, making sure to shampoo and condition his hair as well.
The two spent the whole day doing work. Alex typed, Thomas proof-read.
