Work Text:
“hello? aled?” i say into my phone. it’s 11:36pm, and aleds calling me. he never calls without texting first.
“dan?” is the croaky response from his end.
i immediately know something is wrong, and my overactive brain starts thinking of the million possibilities of what’s happened.
“aled? what’s happened, what’s wrong?”
“can i come stay at yours tonight? my mum… she… she locked me out.” his signal is crap, he must be outside.
“yeah, yeah. come over.” my voice cracks a little. i’m so worried about him. i know his mum is shitty, but i don’t know how bad. this seems pretty bad.
he hangs up, or maybe the signal gets too bad and ends the call for him. i rush downstairs and sit by the door, waiting for the knock.
when the knock comes, i answer immediately. and oh my god, he looks a state. his hair is supposed to be in a ponytail, but it’s nearly fallen out, and it’s all frizzy and stuck up in different places. his clothes are wrinkly and dirty.
he looks… sad.
with the black rings under his eyes and the red veins branching from his pupil, his tear-stained cheeks and his deep-set frown. my heart sinks when i see him. he doesn’t look like aled.
“aled?” i whisper after a few minutes, not believing it’s really him.
“sorry i called you so late. i just… don’t know what to do. and you’re really my only friend…” his voice is weak and tear-broken.
i pull him in gently, shutting the door behind him.
“shh, it’s okay. don’t worry. what happened?”
“we had an argument earlier. about carys. i told mum i miss her and she started screaming about how she was a disappointment, and i tried to defend carys… but mum just kept shouting, so i walked out. and when i tried to get in, the door was locked…” he trails off. his voice is so small, like it was on the phone.
i stroke his back, hugging him tight. “you can stay here with me for tonight. but you need a wash.” i tell him, bringing him upstairs.
i hear a mumbled thank you, and then he asks about my parents.
“both asleep in their room.” i answer simply, bringing aled into the bathroom. i start running him a bath.
i look back at him. he looks so tired and weak and sickly and not like my aled. it makes me want to cry. i shake my head and go over to a box in the bathroom.
“here’s the towels…” i mumble, passing him one. “hand me your clothes. i’ll wash them for you.”
he does so easily, slipping out of his clothes and into the bath. i blush a little, even though i’ve seen him naked loads of times. he just looks so amazing.
“you can borrow mine for tonight. i’ll go get you some.” i walk out of the bathroom and into my room next door, trying to find some of my larger clothes that’ll fit him. i fold his clothes and put them on my desk, making a mental note to put them in the wash when he’s sorted.
“dan?” i hear faintly from next door. i go back into the bathroom.
“hm?” i ask, putting my clothes on the floor for him.
“i’m a bit drunk.” he confessed, looking at me guiltily.
“oh my god, aled! you’re 16, for fucks sake…”
“don’t be mad. please.” and with the way he looks at me, i would be insane to refuse.
i sigh. “how drunk?”
“only, like, a couple shots.”
“how did you even get it?”
“my mum had it in the cupboard. i think it was carys’.”
i shut my eyes and try to calm down. i don’t want to seem overprotective over him, we’re just friends. i think.
“okay. just… lie back and enjoy the bath.”
“sorry.”
“i said it’s fine, aled. you don’t need to apologise.” i sit down next to the bath, sticking my finger in the water. it’s warm, but not too hot. like i know he likes it.
i try not to, but my eyes wander to the curve of his neck and the line of his jaw, skin shiny from the water. i blush.
“no, im sorry for the other day. you’re right, i can’t just keep kissing you and saying we’re just friends and expect you to be happy with that.”
i can’t speak for a while, my mouth and body frozen. i didn’t expect him to mention that. but i know it’s only because he’s drunk.
“you’re sorry for kissing me? or for how you handled it?” i say after a few minutes.
“all of it, i guess? i don’t know.” he sounds confused, not aware of what he’s saying. sober aled would never say this.
“i l… like you. a lot.” he nearly tells me he loves me, something he last did when we were 4. and i nearly pass out.
i cant keep my eyes off him. he’s much more toned than i remember, in his arms. the light makes his skin look smooth and shiny. he looks… stunning.
“yeah?” i whisper, looking up and meeting his eyes. he’s got a small smile on his face, but it’s shy.
“we can keep kissing. if you want. like we normally do.” he whispers. the butterflies in my stomach like that. i know he’ll forget this in the morning and go back to saying he doesn’t want to label anything. so i might as well make the most of it.
“yeah. i’d like that.” i lean over the bath and kiss him. i feel a million different things when our lips touch, ranging from wanting to throw up to wanting to run away to the forest together and get married.
neither happen.
i taste the vodka on his tongue, and it makes me want him more.
he pulls me closer, soaking my shirt but i don’t care. all i care about is him, his lips, his body.
we finally pull away when he almost pulls me into the bath, both panting. i think he liked it. it’s hard to tell with aled.
then the words i’m so used to fall out of his mouth. the words i thought i’d escaped tonight. “you’re alright if we still don’t, like, label… us, right? we’re just us.”
my heart drops to my stomach and i really do think i’m going to be sick. “yeah. of course, yeah. no need to label it.” i choke out, not wanting to make a big deal of it, because i know to him it’s not.
but to me, it’s the biggest thing in the world. bigger than getting into cambridge, bigger than acing my tests. bigger than life itself.
“yeah. yeah.” he says under his breath, getting out of the bath and drying himself. he puts on my clothes and he honestly does look perfect.
i want to label us. i want to be his boyfriend, to take him on dates, to kiss him and get told he loves me after, to hold his hand.
i don’t want to ‘just be us’ anymore.
“i’ll sleep on the sofa.” i say, turning away. i don’t think i can handle sleeping in the same bed as him.
“why… why can’t we share the bed? we’ve been doing it since we were, like, 2.”
i laugh it off. “yeah. yeah. sorry. i just… yeah. nevermind.” i don’t know what will happen tonight. one of is drunk, one of us wants the other… it’s not a good mix. but i’ll risk it.
i follow him into my room and sit next to him on my bed. my room is boring and neat and nothing like his.
i look at him. his hair is still damp and flopped over his face. i go back into the bathroom, grab a hairbrush and start brushing it.
he leans back, letting me brush his hair. i like brushing his hair - it feels intimate. like for a moment, we’re actually boyfriends.
when i’m done, we both lie in my bed together. i can’t stop thinking about how good he looks. it’s embarrassing, really.
“i’ll probably forget all of this tomorrow.” he tells me, looking into my eyes.
“that’s okay. i’ll remind you.” i whisper, putting a hand on his cheek and kissing him again.
i want to stop, but i also want more. i hate him and love him and want him all at once and i don’t know what to do except kiss him.
there’s something addicting about his mouth, the way his lips feel on mine. when his tongue slips past my lips i lean in closer, pulling him close so our bodies are touching.
my skin tingles everywhere we’re touching. aled last is my drug. i know this is bad for me, i know i shouldnt do it, but it’s so addicting and i can’t stop.
that night is the first night we have sex. it’s awkward and chaotic, but it’s us. and i love every moment, even though aled is drunk and i think im insane. i loose myself in him.
he wakes up in the morning not long after me, and i hear him croak out my voice. he’s sleepy and probably hungover and adorable.
“good morning.” i smile down at him, my voice hoarse and groggy. my lips touch his cheek, and his skin is soft.
for some reason, i expect things to be different. i expect him to suddenly confess his undying love for me and for us to run away into the sunset hand-in-hand as boyfriends. i’m stupid.
“why am i in your bed naked?” he whispers, and he looks mortified, like he’s made the biggest mistake of his life. he’s pale and shaking, his eyes wide. i want to take him in my arms and kiss him until he’s calm, but i know that’ll have the oposite effect.
“what do you remember about last night? anything at all?”
i see him think for a while. “me and my mum argued. then i stole that bottle of vodka and ran away… and i drunk. then i think i called you? i must’ve, otherwise how would i be here… and…” i can see him struggle.
i don’t know if i want him to remember or not. i’ll have to tell him. i know i will. “yeah. you don’t remember anything else?
“no. sorry.” he looks down. “i feel like something important happened, didn’t it?”
i want to cry, and i want to laugh and i want to scream at him. god, i hate this. i don’t know what i feel about him. i don’t want to feel like this, i don’t want him to know. but i have to be honest.
“it was just sex. it’s fine.” i whisper, trying desperately not to cry. he can’t know how much this hurts me. then he’ll never want to talk to me again.
“we… we had sex?” he looks like it’s the worst news he’s ever had. he gets out of bed and wrestles his clothes on, and i try my hardest not to break down in tears.
he wants to leave. he always leaves after stuff like this. when we kiss, normally. i’m used to that. but it hurts more after something big like this. he doesn’t want me. “yeah. it was stupid, probably.”
i look at him, swallowing. “i liked it.” i say under my breath. he doesn’t hear me.
“can we just forget about this? forget it ever happened, whatever happened?” he looks like i’m a monster or something, that he’s terrified of me.
another crack in my heart. i’m not worth remembering for him. it meant nothing to him. i mean nothing to him.
“yeah. of course.” i whisper, getting out of bed and pulling on my boxers. i don’t know how i can go back to normal after this. i don’t know how i’m supposed to forget.
“good, good.” he says awkwardly. he’s wearing his dirty clothes from last night, not even the ones i let him borrow. “thanks for letting me stay. see you later.” he does a little nod and walks out.
“yeah. bye.” i whisper, watching him walk down the street from my window. i don’t know how long it’ll be until i see him again. i don’t know if i want to see him again.