H2OVanoss - Vices

Part 2

—

Thirty five, thirty five, thirty four, thirty four, thirty three, thirty three, thirty three, thirty one. 

He counted each box twice, but there was no mistaking it. Delirious really was trying to wean himself off of alcohol. 

Evan sighed wearily, straightening out of his uncomfortable crouch on the ground. He headed to the sink to wash his dirtied hands. 

Fuck, he was a jackass. 

If he had only noticed…then none of this shit would have happened. They wouldn’t have fought.

He would make it up to Delirious somehow. He would help him; he would focus helping him recover. He would give him whatever he desired.

He didn’t have to look very far to know he’d give the man his soul if it would save him from drinking his life away. He didn’t want to know what life would be without Delirious.

He dried his hands with an old dish towel before he headed back into their living room. Vanoss tried to steel his nerves for the sight before him; he could never stand to see his beloved in pain.

Delirious was still hunched over on the floor, his face buried into his knees. No sound escaped him - the man was completely silent, stuck in a stasis that was of his doing.

He looked so fragile, so fucking fractured - Evan’s heart twisted painfully as he gazed upon him. Carefully, he knelt by his lover’s side. With strong arms he gathered up Delirious’s tensed, tightly wound form and lifted him up like he weighed nothing. He didn’t feel very heavy, Vanoss noted absently as he carried him into their bedroom. Did he even eat today?

Slowly, he lowered his precious burden onto their rumpled bed. He gingerly unfolded his body, avoiding Delirious’s vacant, unseeing expression as he delicately stripped him of his blue shirt. He pulled the comforter over him, tucking in the sides, and took a step back to cast a bleak, heavy-lidded stare over the man’s prone form. With a gentle graze of callused fingertips across Jonathan’s cheek, he left the room to clean up the mess his broken bong had made. 

He would finally get to help Jonathan fix himself. Living a life without the man by his side was not an option he was comfortable with.

—

Delirious barely registered Vanoss’s big arms wrapping around him. In a faraway part of his distressed brain he knew he was being hoisted aloft - he could feel the disorienting stars of motion as he was jostled - but he couldn’t clear the wretched haze that had fallen over his mind.

Of course Vanoss was human. He walked, he talked, he feasted, he breathed. Only now, could Jonathan realize how high of a pedestal he had placed the man on, and it was painful to learn that Evan wasn’t the person he had constructed him to be. He was a person. He had his own weaknesses, too. 

Maybe he had ignored Evan’s faults because he knew he was Evan’s constant weak link. He was always drunk off his ass so he was unable to do anything during the day with him, and he always relied on the dark-haired man to take care of him during his hangovers. He received but never gave back. He couldn’t even summon the energy to be sober for the little intimacy they had as of late. He was a fucking ass, and a fucking shit boyfriend to boot

He couldn’t bring himself to feel angry anymore about the bong. Jonathan couldn’t fault him for it. He had been absent from their relationship, and it made sense that Vanoss had to find something to fill in the void he left. 

Sure, he had betrayed Delirious with marijuana, but he had done the same to him with alcohol long before Evan even considered toking. Anyone else would have left him long ago if they were forsaken and neglected for as long as his lover was.

The man was far, far too good for him anyway, Delirious mused miserably. Why the hell did Vanoss stay with him? Why did he bother to carry him to bed? Why did he lay his damaged body ever so goddamn tenderly on the mattress? 

The pillow was readjusted under his tired head. The heavy down comforter he preferred was being pulled over him, the sides tucking in with the aid of a firm hand. The barest of electrifying caresses skimmed gently across his cheek, and Jonathan nearly wept at the touch.

Fuck, he didn’t deserve Vanoss. It would take a thousand lifetimes to even be worthy of being near his lover.

—

Several hours had passed before Evan returned to their bedroom. He carried a six pack of beer in one hand and a plate stacked with sandwiches in the other. 

Delirious hadn’t moved an inch since he entombed him in the dark blue comforter. He was snoring softly, his face untroubled by their earlier transgression as he slept.

Quietly, the dark-haired man placed the food and drink on the desk by Delirious’s half of the bed. He padded over to his half, and with a hesitant glance at his slumbering counterpart, he climbed into bed, being careful to not bump into his supine body. Jonathan was a light sleeper, and Vanoss hoped he hadn’t woken him up.

He curled up with an arm under his head, staring lazily out at the late afternoon sun that illuminated the skyline. He was exhausted - the day had eventually caught up to him. The fight had drained most of his energy, and cleaning up had swallowed up the rest. He was nearly ready to close his eyes when Delirious decided to awaken.

—

Despite the brown-eyed man’s attempt prevent his rousing, Delirious had already sensed the mattress dip with Vanoss’s weight.

He wasn’t sure if he should have felt puzzled or relieved that his beloved decided to lie in bed with him, but he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Was Vanoss going to forgive him?

He opened his eyes, batting away the last of his lethargy to reveal cloudy grey irises. “Evan?” he murmured, his voice rusted with sleep. 

Slowly his partner turned his dark head, appraising him with a drowsy, hooded gaze. “Yes?” 

His low voice sent a shiver down Delirious’s spine. “What are you doing?”

"What does it look like?" the muscled male let out a generous yawn, his thin lips parting wide. "I was going to take a nap. There’s sandwiches and beer on the table if you’re hungry." His tone was strangely neutral.

Was he still angry with him? “I-I’m sorry.” Jonathan blurted out before he lost his nerve. “I’m so sorry for-“

"Shut up, clown." Vanoss let out a sharp exhale. His expression became guarded before reaching to grasp the other man’s chin in his hand. 

He didn’t dare to move, allowing the nimble fingers to stroke his stubbled cheek. The pads of Evan’s fingertips felt almost too warm as they brushed across his face and bottom lip. Delirious resisted the urge to catch a single digit in his mouth and suckle it gently.

"You’ll only get to be sorry if you actually sober up." the dark-haired man finally said when he finished his examination, withdrawing his hand to rest in the space between their pair of pillows.

He was willing to give him a last chance. Evan wasn’t going to abandon him. 

Jonathan felt a weight loosen in his chest. “Is that it?” he grinned foolishly, drawing nearer to close the space between them. 

"Yeah. Just don’t fuck it up, Delirious." Vanoss warned with a faint smile of his own before he leaned in to touch his lips with his. 

—

Because I don’t think I could handle if it happened again, Jonathan.

Yeah, I know.

—