A/N: italics don't work fml
To say that clubbing was Vik's thing was an understatement. An endless crowd of drunk people, mingling together with loud, blaring music and vibrant flashing lights in the background. The strong odour of alcohol was lingering everywhere in the hot, stuffy room.
Vik heaved a frustrated sigh, wanting nothing but to be out of there. He swept his dark brown gaze around the gloomy room, only lit by the almost blinding colourful lights. He couldn't find Harry anywhere. Vik was beginning to think Harry only wanted him to come along so that Harry wouldn't end up a drunken mess somewhere on the streets.
Vik closed his eyes for a brief moment, the slurred voices of several strangers drowned out by his tiredness. A familiar, blurry voice snapped him from his trance. "Vik..." Vik spun round from the bar to face Harry. He was a total mess. His hair was tousled and matted with sweat. This was normal. Harry would always get so drunk that he couldn't remember a thing the next morning.
"Vik," Harry repeated, more urgently this time. "Harry, we should g-" Vik suddenly froze, his sentence sharply cut off as Harry wrapped an arm around Vik's waist, forcing him closer. Vik could feel uncomfortable goosebumps pinching at his skin at the other boy's touch. Their closeness made his cheeks flush. No... This wasn't right; Harry was just drunk. This meant nothing, nothing at all.
"Vik, I need to tell you something..." Harry mumbled, running a hand through his unkept hair. Before Vik could even say anything, Harry continued to slur meaningless words. "I-I love you..." Vik grit his teeth, tensing even more as Harry began to inch closer. "Vik..." Harry breathed once more. Just the way he said Vik's name - even when he's drunk - was enough to make him blush.
Despite how much Vik wanted to believe Harry's slurred words, he didn't. Harry didn't mean what he said. That hurt even more. Their lips were barely touching. Vik could smell the scent of alcohol on Harry's breath. He drew in a shaky breath, pushing the taller boy away from him. "Harry, you're drunk..." He muttered, clenching his fists, his mind fogged with mixed emotions.
Ignoring Harry's protests, Vik dragged him along, slowly finding their way through the sea of drunk people and making it outside. Vik sighed with relief, finally being able to breath fresh air. "We're getting a taxi to your place."
All through the journey back to Harry's place, he was constantly annoying Vik, poking him and murmuring unidentifiable words. Vik was too deep in his thoughts to take notice; lost in his crowded mind. Was what Harry said true? Doubt it. He was clearly drunk; he didn't mean or know anything he was saying. Vik couldn't stop thinking about it.
He'd had a crush on him since as long as he could remember, and he'd been trying to just forget about it. They were friends, nothing more. And now Harry had brought him back to that same position - sleepless nights thinking about him and coming up with unrealistic fantasies, a constant thought pestering him repeatedly.
Vik sighed, and after paying and thanking the taxi driver, clambered messily out of the car, making sure Harry followed him. "Where are we?" He muttered, clinging onto Vik firmly as he staggered towards the door. "We're at your house, silly."
-
By the time Harry was asleep in his bed, Vik was on the verge of collapsing into a peaceful, well-earned sleep. "It's like babysitting a four-year-old," he muttered quietly under his breath. He closed his eyes for a brief second, deciding to get just a little bit of relaxation... "Viiik!"
With a groan of annoyance, Vik drowsily got to his feet, clumsily finding his way to Harry's room. Harry was comfortably swaddled warmly in his bed. "What now?" Harry outstretched his arms toward Vik, even though he was standing at the doorway, nowhere near in his reach. "Come here..."
Not this again, Vik thought silently to himself. "Why?" He huffed, trudging towards where Harry was snuggled in his bed. "Come sleep with me," Harry mumbled, shuffling to the side and making space. Vik bit his bottom lip, all the muddled thoughts rushing back to him like a violent, crashing wave. He was tired, and how could he say no to that face?
Defeated, Vik settled into the bed, close beside a half-asleep Harry.
-
A noisy movement caused Vik to stir from his sleep. He mumbled something inaudible, shuffling and facing the other way, pulling the covers over his body. "Vik, get up. I've got to get you home." Harry's voice was hoarse from his hangover, but gentle. Vik groaned in protest, burying his face into the pillow.
"Do I have to?" He groaned loudly in complaint. literally rolling out of the bed and scrambling out of the room, closely followed by a more conscious Harry. "Yes, before Cal and Cal get back," he answered, although secretly wished that Vik could stay.
As soon as Vik had said goodbye to Harry and was on his way to finish off the morning with a few more hours of sleep, his phone buzzed in his pocket. Picking it up, he glanced at the notification on the screen of his phone.
Harry: oh & btw, what I said in the club yesterday was true (; xxx
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Okay so for some reason I'm getting views but no votes? Pleeeaaaaaseeeeeeeeee if you're reading this, let me know! If nobody reads what I write then I'll end up stopping entirely. Any sort of feedback literally makes my day. Honestly, lately I've been feeling really shitty and bad for myself, I'm kinda thinking its some sort of depression but let's not get too into that. Anyways, bye.
