warning: smut
—
Tyler's at his boyfriend's tonight. He's in his bedroom, in the dark room, only street lights illuminating it. There are bottles upon bottles of alcohol on the bed side table and floor. Josh is fast asleep, next to the boy with dark bags under his eyes. He's curled up into the sheets in a ball. Tyler thinks he looks like a little kitten, all snug in the blankets like that. He's adorable. As soon as Tyler laid eyes on him he knew he was in deep shit; he knew he would fall in love with Joshua sooner or later.
The pale boy beside him lets out a whimper, snuggling closer to Tyler. He runs his slender fingers through Joshua's curly, red locks, twisting the hair and massaging his scalp. Tyler's staring through the wall, his brain isn't working properly. Everything is slow and slurred. It's hard to think; that's what Tyler loved about the drinks. He loved that vodka could burn his throat so nicely. He loved that wine soothed him. He loved that beer could make his brain shut up. He loved it all. Everything about drinking.
Tyler tears his hand away from Josh's head, hearing him whine. He bends over, grabbing a bottle of gin from the bed side table. He swigs it, loving the feeling. His bare back is sweaty against the black sheets of Josh's bed, head spinning slightly. He's becoming more and more calm.
"Ty, c'mon, baby, you've had enough." Josh groans. He turns over on his back, looking up at Tyler. His boyfriend had been drinking all day. He always did this. Tyler doesn't listen to Joshua, all he could focus on was the drink in his shaky hand.
"Tyler," Josh says louder this time, taking the gin from Tyler's hand, "Enough."
Tyler rolls his eyes, sinking into the mattress. Josh kisses him on the forehead, holding him close to his toned chest. Tyler squirms around, whining like a fucking three-year-old. "Want more drink." He slurs out, kicking his legs around. "Hate you, Josh." Tyler whimpers, digging his chin into Joshua's chest on purpose.
Josh sighs, rubbing Tyler's back with his soft hands. Ty's so annoying when he's drunk. Josh's hip cracks when he stands up, Tyler in his strong arms, cuddling him like a baby koala. He takes the boy to the messy kitchen, setting him down on the cluttered bench.
Tyler bangs the heels of his feet loudly against the cupboard doors, carrying on like a child. Josh tells him to shut his mouth, bringing him pain killers and a glass of water.
"Take the pill, Tyler." Joshua says sternly when his boyfriend whines, biting his shoulder. Tyler was such a fucking brat. "Come on! It's four am, I'm sick of your shit!"
Tyler's lip quivers, eyes filling with salty water. He takes the tablet, wrapping his cold arms around Josh's warm neck, sobbing into his chest. He's so drunk.
Joshua holds him close, taking him back to their bedroom, where he places his lover down onto the bed, cuddling him. "Goodnight, Tyler."
•
Tyler is watching TV, a murder mystery. He loved those kinds of shows. His head is pounding, he feels gross. Josh took a shower with him this morning, but he still felt like shit.
Tyler didn't mean to become an alcoholic. It wasn't his fault. Okay, it was, but this liquid he had fallen in love with was the only thing that helped him with the emotional pain he had to deal with. It seemed to be the only thing that cared about him. Josh did, obviously, but just Josh wasn't enough.
