Aftershocks ➳ Philkas/Eyewitness

15

Episode 15: Hangover

The tall, dew-covered grass brushes against their legs as Philip guides Lukas towards the front door. He has his arm draped over his shoulder, head swaying with intoxication, and is groaning incoherently under his breath. When he stumbles over his own feet and lolls his face against Philip's neck, he can still smell the alcohol on his breath.

"C'mon, babe, just a little further," Philip promises, practically dragging him up the porch steps.

It's still dark outside, and the moon is the only source of light guiding them. The bleached glow of moonlight illuminates Lukas's pale skin, showing the redness of his cheeks and the shimmer of spit on his chapped lips. Philip has lost track of the amount of times Lukas has thrown up tonight.

Lukas whines drunkenly in protest. "No! We can't go inside," he says, hiccuping. "Helen and Gabe are gonna hate me."

"They're asleep," Philip insists. "It's three o'clock in the morning. You just have to be quiet."

Lukas whimpers against his skin, face still pressed into his neck. "My head hurts."

"I'll get you some pain killers, alright? You just gotta shut up until we get to my room."

Lukas pouts up at him, blue eyes blinking. "Don't tell me to shut up. You're such a meanie."

Philip rolls his eyes. "Lukas," he says in a warning tone.

"I'm gonna have to transfer to a different school, Philly-Dilly," Lukas says, slurring his words.

"No, you're not."

"I am," Lukas contends. "I kissed you in front of everyone."

"Let's not talk about that right now, okay?" Philip says, rubbing soothing circles on his back. "Just be quiet and follow me."

Philip reaches into his pocket and finds his key. He unlocks the front door and opens it slowly, making sure not to make any noise. He grabs Lukas's elbow and directs him inside before quietly closing the door behind them. All the lights are turned off, so Philip relies on his spacial memory to maneuver up the staircase.

"You're going too fast," Lukas whines softly, feet moving sluggishly up the stairs.

"You're just slow," Philip argues.

"I am not," Lukas protests, scrunching his nose. "I'm fast. Have you seen my motorcycle? It goes fast. I go fast. Super speedy!"

Philip hushes him when they reach the landing at the top of the staircase. He grabs Lukas's hand and starts to lead him towards his bedroom. The wooden floorboards creak loudly beneath their weight, and Philip curses under his breath.

Suddenly, he hears stagnant footsteps approaching them from the opposite end of the hallway. Philip looks back at Lukas with a worried expression on his face.

The light turns on. Gabe stands in front of them wearing a blue robe, lack of sleep evident in his slow, syrupy movements. He rubs his hand down the length of his face, sighing deeply.

"What are you two doing? It's three o'clock in the morning."

"I told you I'd probably be out past curfew," Philip mutters.

"That's not the problem, Philip," Gabe says, voice stern. "You know the rules about Lukas staying the night."

"I'm sorry," Lukas interjects, arm still looped around Philip's shoulder for support. "Don't get mad at Philip. He's too cute to get in trouble. Do you see his face?" He pinches Philip's cheek and laughs.