(Archived) Poth Short Stories and One-Shots

A Brewtiful Beginning - Chapter 9

Slotting the key into the lock and turning the handle, Goth shuffled into the apartment with Palette still hanging off of his shoulders for support. He managed to not only shimmy out of his coat, but somehow got his roommate out of theirs to deposit both garments in the closet.

He'd be lying if he didn't admit he was a little proud of himself.

The stumbling trek down the hallway ended at his roommate's door, which had thankfully been left ajar and could be maneuvered with a nudge of the smaller's sneaker.

Walking in and backing up toward the bed, he let Palette flop away from him onto his back in a sprawl. The taller skeleton was slowly losing the fight to stay awake as Goth removed their shoes and shifted their feet up onto the mattress. He flopped onto the edge of the mattress once his task was complete, sparing one last glance as his drunk companion's sockets fell shut and they shifted into a more comfortable position.

A sudden compulsion rose up in him, making Goth wonder if maybe he did get drunk after all. Carefully leaning forward, he pecked a light kiss against Palette's forehead as he whispered, "Thanks for standing up for me earlier, it made me happy to know someone was on my side."

Goth held that position inches above Palette's face for a few seconds, taking in the taller's slack expression and the smell of alcohol on their breath. What was he even expecting? He'd only worked up the courage for a kiss in the first place because his companion was falling asleep and wouldn't react or remember it.

"I must've lost my mind," Goth mumbled to himself, his sockets falling shut as he let out a sigh. As he began to pull away, he was stopped short by a pair of arms snaking around his waist. He gasped as he was pulled against Palette's chest, hearing a muffled groan as he yelped, "P... Palette?!"

He was still awake? And the positioning... the scenario... Palette wouldn't... even if he was drunk, he wasn't that kind of monster, right?

Palette nuzzled their cheek into his skull while humming, "Got'y... ih's so cold but yer sooo warm..."

"Palette?" Goth called out warily, his voice taking on a slight tremor as he tried to dislodge the arms holding him down, "Palette, let go. I need to go to my room."

"Mnnnnnnnnnnnnn," the artist grumbled, his grip tightening as he rambled, "Please stay... I like bein' with you... yer not like my old friends and i'fe been sooo much happier since movin' and I wan' you to be happy too... yer nice to me an' you deserve to be happy..."

The small skeleton blushed at the proclamation, but something Palette said sobered his thoughts and stilled his movements. Wondering if he should really press for information with his roommate in such a compromised state, Goth prompted warily, "Old friends?"

"I don' like 'em anymore," Palette drawled, his face scrunching up, "They wern' good friends... 'swhy I left..."

Goth frowned at the information. While he wanted to know more, it felt like an invasion of privacy to delve deeper right now. The taller skeleton's sockets slid shut during that time and he began to produce a noise akin to snoring, but much softer. Poking at his cheek, the smaller could definitively say Palette was asleep this time.

He'd try asking about it once they both had their skulls on straight.

Testing the arms still locked around him, they didn't budge... which meant Goth probably wasn't going anywhere either. Well, Palette wasn't doing anything more than holding him like a teddy bear, so it wasn't a problem per se, and the position wasn't uncomfortable either. It was warm too...

Slipping his shoes off to drop onto the floor and snagging the edge of the bedsheet with his bare foot, he managed to pull the blanket up over himself and his companion.

Glancing toward the doorway, he could make out the faint light that was still on in the living room. Resigning himself to a slightly higher electric bill at the end of the month, he laid his head down and let the rhythmic sound of Palette's soul thumping in their chest carry him off to sleep.

---

Goth woke to the mattress moving and a mild throb in his skull. Right, he went drinking last night. That explained the headache... why did he do that again?

"Goth...?"

Shifting his skull, the small skeleton opened his sockets to find his face inches from Palette's. In that instant, the events of the previous night flooded back to him.

"W... what're you doing in my bed? This is my bed, right?" Palette groaned in a muddled tone while squinting, suggesting he wasn't fully awake yet.

***

Word Count: 801

Now you have your 'and there was only one bed' meme~