illicit | five hargreeves - EDITING

eighteen

chapter eighteen: intoxicated

Anthony had always liked getting drunk, because he saw it as a temporary escape from the cruel world that he lived in. He had started drinking when he was a teenager, only barley fourteen years old, and quickly realized that he quite liked the feeling and the rush that it gave him. He could vividly remember the nights that consisted of him sneaking out of the house after stealing a bottle of his dad's expensive liquor, and taking it to meet his friends in either a dark alleyway or some sketchy wooded area.

His dad was an alcoholic, although he denied it, so it was pretty easy for the teenager to take the bottles, because they were always scattered somewhere throughout his house. One time, he got caught, and that resulted in the scar underneath his jaw that remained prominent into his adult life.

Anthony did suppose that he was somewhat addicted to it when he was a teenager, but he had decided at the time that it wasn't a serious issue. He used the drink to his advantage, to try and fix his problems, or to just forget them all together. It wasn't a healthy coping mechanism, but he wasn't entirely aware of that. Anthony wouldn't have cared anyways, or have even thought to care, because he was just desperate for the temporary escape.

He didn't really have a serious problem though, because he knew he could stop it if he really wanted to. But he didn't, and that itself was his problem. It was sad though, honestly, because he was so young. Too young to drink, and too young to have problems that would make him want to drink.

Someone should've cared, but no one ever did. And maybe a part of him selfishly just wanted someone, anyone to notice. The nights where he would come home stumbling unable to walk, or the days where he would just barely make it in school, were all really just desperate cries for help that no one ever took any notice of. Or maybe they did, and if they did, they simply just didn't care enough.

His problem with it did get better as he got older, thank fuck for that, and he mostly avoided the substances in his adult life. However, he still did use it from time to time, especially when he was sad or lonely, which to be fair was a lot of the time.

Anthony was still a totally lightweight, despite the numerous years of consumption. It would only take him a couple of drinks before he'd be stumbling and tripping over his own feet, barely able to form a sentence, and throwing himself and his body at any guy who wanted him.

To say he was a touchy drunk would be a huge understatement. Anthony was already a touchy person as it was, but it was only heightened once there was alcohol involved. He loved the feeling of being close to someone, and for awhile he didn't really care who it was, he just wanted to be close with anyone who wanted to be close with him, anyone who was willing to be close with him.

Anthony really didn't mind meeting random people on the streets, because he just wanted the comfort of human contact.

He supposed it was different now though, because he didn't want to intimate with anyone who wasn't Five Hargreeves. And he didn't even care that he had restricted himself, because he loved everything about it.

Anthony loved holding Five's hand, he loved hugging him, he loved kissing him, he loved cuddling, he loved the way Five's hands felt wrapped around his throat, or the way they felt running through his hair, even pulling on his hair, he loved the way Five's lips felt on his, or on his neck, or on his jaw, or even on his collarbones. He just simply loved it all.

He loved just being in Five's arms full stop. He just loved to be held, to be handled with gently. He loved the feeling of soft hands running through his hair with tenderly, and the feeling of being given the softest forehead kisses. He loved closing his eyes and listening to Five's heartbeat, falling asleep to the gentle and steady thudding.