[against all fashions that make August, August, he stumbles into Nick's room at around 3:45AM, a bottle and a half deep and clothes rumpled. he does try to be quiet, which is near impossible because every time he tries to bend over to take off his shoes he trips over himself and almost falls each time. this results in a cycle of one or two stomps and scuffs of shoe against wood. that leaves him with only one option:
crawl on to Nick's bed, above the covers, clothes and shoes on, and collapse where the shape of his body is, regardless if he'd been sleeping or not. curled over top of him, head planting itself right next to Nick's — too close, he'll smell alcohol on his breath, on his clothes — and elbow tucked beneath him, the back of his hand tapping against his chest.]
You awake?
[is a really stupid question, considering that all he's done is disrupt the silence and very unceremoniously climbed into bed.]
[ of course nick is awake, how could he not be? it takes a real marker of restraint to stay in bed when he hears august tumbling into the room honestly, he's too tempted to hop up and help, fuss with his shoes and sweep his hair off his face--but he waits, lying quiet in the bed until august climbs in beside him.
god, he must be really drunk, its all nick can smell, but he still shifts closer into his touch, sliding a hand up to find the one tapping at his chest. he doesn't quite take august's hand yet, but he plays with his fingers idly, like he's thinking about it. ]
[his speech is slurred, each letter rolling into the next, wet in his mouth. his free hand reaches up to touch Nick's face, thumb barely missing his eye. he snickers to himself and drops his hand altogether.]
Did you? I lost my phone.
[two things that he doesn't need to say together that he says together anyway. he wriggles, pressing in closer to him, clearly not satisfied with the results. he tilts his head up to look down at the two of them.]
You're under everything. Why are you under everything? God, that's annoying. Jesus, fuck - [loose lips and and even looser body, he's making sorry (and sloppy) attempts to pull the covers down while he's still on top of them. his head drops back down, exhausted, exasperated - all of the above.] this is difficult.
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maybe. if yuo were around
but youre not
[???]
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it's nick's turn to drop the phone, a delay in response while he works to fish it back out of the gap between chairs.
why didn't he ask? he's not going to actually ask that, but why didn't august ask him? ]
why didnt you ask me to come?
[ fuck ]
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so i drank isnt
instead*
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i dont need a break
you dont need to get drunk alone
especially if its not happy drunk
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why don't i need to ??
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unless you wanted to drink solo then ig its not actually a problem lol dont mind me
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except you
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tomorrow
yesterday
what kind of question is that
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i could come find you
or you can come back to my room tonight
whatever youd like more
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lost**
youknow. i'll come to you
don't wait for me
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but you can come to me
i can't sleep though so no promises on not waiting up
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why can't you sleep?
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too much to think about not enough to do
you're awake too
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what are you thinking about
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tracking runes
why we're here
you
what are you thinking about?
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not a hot thing to say.]
mostly you
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50/50
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tongue
body.
you.
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i'll wait for you
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crawl on to Nick's bed, above the covers, clothes and shoes on, and collapse where the shape of his body is, regardless if he'd been sleeping or not. curled over top of him, head planting itself right next to Nick's — too close, he'll smell alcohol on his breath, on his clothes — and elbow tucked beneath him, the back of his hand tapping against his chest.]
You awake?
[is a really stupid question, considering that all he's done is disrupt the silence and very unceremoniously climbed into bed.]
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god, he must be really drunk, its all nick can smell, but he still shifts closer into his touch, sliding a hand up to find the one tapping at his chest. he doesn't quite take august's hand yet, but he plays with his fingers idly, like he's thinking about it. ]
I told you I would be, didn't I?
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Did you? I lost my phone.
[two things that he doesn't need to say together that he says together anyway. he wriggles, pressing in closer to him, clearly not satisfied with the results. he tilts his head up to look down at the two of them.]
You're under everything. Why are you under everything? God, that's annoying. Jesus, fuck - [loose lips and and even looser body, he's making sorry (and sloppy) attempts to pull the covers down while he's still on top of them. his head drops back down, exhausted, exasperated - all of the above.] this is difficult.
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🎀