title: importance of secrets
rating: t
fandom: all for the game/the foxhole court
pairing/characters: Kevin Day & Nicky Hemmick
warnings: alcohol use/abuse, mentions of past abuse, implied/referenced abuse, unhealthy coping mechanisms
a/n: @alecsilghtwood asked for “things you said when you were drunk” - Kevin + Nicky and I somehow managed to lose the ask. it’s very rough and very unbeta’d, but I hope you like it anyway!!
(ON AO3)
Eden’s Twilight seemed busier than it typically did when they came for their nights out. Kevin could feel his heart pounding along with the bass line and the warmth of liquor spreading through his veins – it was the only way he could stand the music, honestly, and the best way to run from the problems he couldn’t work off on the court. He drank to forget his secrets, to forget all of the horrors that had been inflicted on him and that he’d inflicted on others at Riko’s command.
Kevin threw back another shot – he didn’t want to think about that, didn’t want to feel anything. He wasn’t even pretending to pay attention to Andrew and Neil, instead he stared over the railing at the throng of people below and tried to pick Aaron and Nicky out of the crowd. It was hard to see, what with all of the flashing lights and all the bodies.
Suddenly, a hand rested on Kevin’s shoulder and he jerked around to see Nicky’s smiling face. Otherwise, their table was deserted – Andrew and Neil must have gone outside for a cigarette or to the bar for more drinks. The club would be closing soon, something Kevin was kind of happy about since it meant escaping the terrible music.
Nicky leaned towards him, his lips practically brushing against Kevin’s ear. “Are you okay?” he asked, his eyes full of genuine concern.
Kevin nodded, although he wasn’t sure it was true. The alcohol hadn’t worked as well tonight – but then again, maybe there were some things that he wasn’t supposed to forget.
Andrew returned with a tray of drinks, then, and Kevin eagerly grabbed the shots placed in front of him, downing them without any preamble. He still felt the same – still felt the guilt and fear and shame sitting heavy on his chest. He didn’t understand why it wasn’t working, why he didn’t feel the relief he’d gotten the times before.
Disappointment washed over him when Andrew told him that they were leaving – as much as he wanted the music to stop, he hadn’t managed to get what he came for. He was definitely drunk, though. That much was made obvious by the way he had to cling to the railing of the stairs to stay upright and the stumbling steps he took once they reached the sidewalk, when Nicky had to catch him.
Kevin rubbed his eyes when he got in the car, as if that could somehow erase the memories, as if that would get rid of all the horrible things that lurked in his mind. Usually, they were dimmed by alcohol, usually the alcohol could mask them.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” NIcky asked again, snapping Kevin out of his reverie.
“Yeah, ‘m great,” Kevin insisted. He caught a glimpse of Nicky’s face as they passed under a streetlight and he could tell that he didn’t quite believe him. By the time they got to the house he wasn’t feeling any and he begrudgingly allowed Nicky to help him up the stairs.
Instead of heading to the living room to sleep on the couch like he normally did, Kevin headed towards Nicky’s room. “Is it okay?” he tried to ask, but he was sure that it just came out as a sad jumble of slurred syllables.
“Sure, of course,” Nicky replied, still holding Kevin up.
Once they were in Nicky’s room, it took Kevin nearly ten minutes to shimmy out of his uncomfortably tight jeans. Nicky helped him into bed and turned to leave, but Kevin – fast, even when drunk – caught his wrist. “I don’t want to be alone,” he said quietly. Nicky nodded and climbed into the bed before turning off the lamp.
Kevin wasn’t sure what it was – whether it was the alcohol or the closeness or the cover of the dark room or a combination of the three – but he found himself spilling his secrets to Nicky. He didn’t even know if Nicky was listening or if his words were even clear enough to be understood, but he talked about Evermore, about Riko, about Jean, about his mom. He spilled all of his secrets – all of the things he’d never imagined himself saying aloud to anyone.
By the time Kevin stopped talking, he was exhausted. He waited for Nicky to say something, for some kind of sign that Nicky was still awake, and finally closed his eyes when none came. Kevin’s mind was still racing, booze-soaked thoughts flitting back and forth, when he felt Nicky’s hand clasp his own.
“None of it is your fault,” NIcky whispered hoarsely, giving Kevin’s hand a gentle squeeze.
“It is,” Kevin replied. “I did those things, I hurt people.”
“You didn’t have a choice,” Nicky insisted. Kevin was about to say something else when Nicky spoke again. “You aren’t a bad person for doing what you needed to survive. You didn’t have a choice,” he repeated.
Neither said anything after that, but it didn’t take long for Kevin to fall into a restless sleep – he was pretty sure he’d fallen asleep before Nicky. He’d dreamt of Riko, of all the horrendous things he’d watched Riko do, most of them to Jean, and woke up sweating, his chest aching with a tightness he’d like to forget.
It took him a few moments to realize that he must have moved closer to Nicky during the night – Nicky’s hand was still clasped in his, but he could feel the soft cotton of Nicky’s t-shirt against his cheek. He didn’t remember which secrets he’d spilled or how much he’d given away, but he knew that his secrets were safe with him. Kevin knew that most of the foxes thought that Nicky was a chatterbox and would tell anyone anything, but Kevin trusted that Nicky knew the importance of secrets.
