Run Dry || Dave ^ Neil - Finished
He just- he wanted to be somewhere he felt wanted. Where he was needed. Where he felt at home. He just wanted to curl up in that warm homey feeling and sleep and wake up when this feeling was gone.
It took him close to an hour- after all it’s hard to read street signs when your eyes can’t focus more than four feet in front of you- but he arrived. His neck craned as he looked up at the tall building, feeling something close to peace sweep over him. Yes. Yes, this was the place. He walked round to the back door, tip toeing until his fingers touched the cool metal of the spare key. ‘Only to be used in case of an emergency.’ Well, if this wasn’t an emergency, he wasn’t sure what was. The door opened and the key was set back in it’s place and the door closed with thud that echoed throughout the building.
He was done— well, almost done. Neil was notorious for giving the theatre a very, very thorough cleaning after rehearsals and meetings and the like. He was not one for keeping a disorganised workplace. His home, that was another issue— but there was always a method to the mess that was his tiny hole of an apartment. An organised mess. A very organised mess. Everything had its place, even if it seemed otherwise.
Neil swept up the last of the dust he saw on the floor and sighed, pulling a earphone out and pursing his lips, and looked at his work. Cleanliness. Perfect. After rubbing an eye, he took the broom and dustpan, putting it away— into the closet.
Finally. Time to sleep. Time go home, call his worrying mother, and go to sleep.
He heard a door open and straightened upright. Neil was sure he’d locked that door. Which meant that someone who had a key was there, presumably Mark. “Mark, what the fuck,” he sighed, turning a corner and cracking his neck, “I said I could fucking handle everything-” he looked to the door and was met with a drunk David. Not Mark. “David,” he deadpanned, letting out an annoyed sigh and pinching the bridge of his nose, “What happened to you going to Shayne’s?” Neil pursed his lips, an eyebrow raised in his direction.
The familiar smell hit his nose and his shoulders relaxed. Oh yes,this was home and this was the peace he had wanted. There wasn’t a corner in this theatre where he felt uneasy- that’s what home was supposed to feel like, right? He was wanted and needed here and- and god, now he had to find a place to sleep. The booth was always an option- soundproof, secluded, and away from everything. He had just flicked the lock to the door- no need to let just anyone in- when a familiar voice reached his ear and he flinched. Neil. Neil was going to ruin it. Neil would kick him out again and he would be without the peaceful feeling he had now. He couldn’t stop himself from looking a little sullen when Neil rounded the corner.
‘David. What happened to you going to Shayne’s?’
Dave’s brow furrowed and his lips pursed slightly, “I did. Go.” He went, he saw, he got rejected, he left. He shrugged, lifting a hand to his hair, ruffling the blonde strands, “She didn’t want me.” Going to Amanda had been a long shot to begin with. But he hadn’t counted on leaving there feeling worse than before.
Neil watched every one of David’s movements carefully, keeping his eyes trained for any tell-tale signs of him blowing chunks all over the place. Neil had a strong stomach— but watching someone throw up, or smelling it, would cause him to as well. ‘I did. Go.’ And, Neil sighed. He went. Alright. So why was he there.
‘She didn’t want me.’ Neil rolled his eyes and crossed his arms and just stared at the boy before him. “She didn’t want you.” His voice was monotonous, though he was slightly annoyed. She. Right. Amanda. The annoying cunt. If she had just fucked David, he would’ve been on his way home already. ”Alright. So why didn’t you just fucking go home?” Neil asked, leaning forward some to glare at him, “This is the theatre, this isn’t- there isn’t- you have a fucking dorm or a fucking apartment to get to- and I’m sure you have a fucking roommate.”
He rubbed his nose and turned away from David, uncrossing his arms and massaging the sides of his head. Fucking hell this fucker was going to be the cause of yetanother migraine. “You need to get the fuck home.” Neil said, turning back around to look at the blond.
‘So why didn’t you just fucking go home?’
Dave face crumpled slightly. What home? He didn’t have one apart from this building. It was William’s apartment— just a temporary arrangement according to Dave. He just- he couldn’t go back to his and Jason’s apartment. He couldn’tsleep in that same space that Jason had occupied. He hadn’t realized just howlittle of his stuff occupied the apartment. Jason was in every nook and cranny and if he wanted to maintain even the slightest bit of sanity, he had to get away from there. Which is where William had stepped in. It’s just temporary— just until we get Jason’s shit boxed up and my lease runs out and I find a new place and-
‘You have a fucking dorm or a fucking apartment to get to— and I’m sure you have a fucking roommate.’
Yes, a fucking roommate who had held their friend while he passed away because of him. A fucking roommate that he couldn’t look in the eye for weeks after it happened. A fucking roommate who knew what a piece of shit he really was and had no problem reminding him of that fact. No, he wasn’t in any hurry to return to that.
‘You need to get the fuck home.’
His face scrunched and he shook his head hands lifting to rub at his face, his voice sounding muffled, “What home. I don’t have one. I’m crashing on my friend’s couch because I’m so fucking pathetic and he doesn’t want me there either.” A lump grew in his throat and a soft whine came from him, “I- I fucked up so bad, Neil. I fucked up and- and now no one wants me- no one can stand me-“
Neil was pissed, of course he was. Who wouldn’t have been? David was drunk, piss drunk, and in the theatre, where Neil interned. And— ph fuck, Neil thought, seeing David’s expression and hearing his words. ‘What home. I don’t have one.’ Neil’s angry look slipped off his face and he grimaced, catching his bottom lip between his teeth. Fuck. Fucking hell.
‘I’m crashing on my friend’s couch because I’m so fucking pathetic and he doesn’t want me there either.’ The fucking dam had broken. Neil fucking knew that David had a problem, that he was drinking it up to clog up the hole that something had left— what? Neil wouldn’t know. He wasn’t close to David in the least, they just worked together, had a class or two together. “David- just fucking-” a small whine came from David’s throat and Neil’s heart lurched slightly.
‘I- I fucked up so bad, Neil. I fucked up and- and now no one wants me- no one canstand me-‘ Neil stepped forward, putting a hand on his shoulder and making a face— Neil was not good at comforting people. At all. Hell, this was why he avoided people. “Hey,” he said, giving David an uncertain and probably queasy-looking smile, “don’t fucking- just-” Neil sighed and blew his hair out of his face, “David just- I’m sure someone fucking wants you. You have- friends and shit.”
Neil’s hand settled on his shoulder- ’David just- I’m sure someone fucking wants you. You have- friends and shit.’- and Dave broke. He swallowed a sob, his shoulders shaking from it and shook his head, taking a shuddering breath. “No- you were right. You’re- you were right. They can’t stand to be around me and I-I push people away. I just- I push Amanda away, I push Will away, I- I push you away-” Everyone. The only one he didn’t- couldn’t- push away was Tommy and- and eventhen he was so hesitant to lean on Tommy too much because it wasn’tfair to lean so much on Tommy when he was hurting too. “They- they can’t stand me and they’d h-hate me if- Will hates me and I-“
Word vomit. Plain and simple. His tongue was loosened by the massive amount of whiskey running through him and all pride he had left had been forgotten there at the bar. He grit his teeth, a soft noise escaping him and his legs stopped supporting him. His knees hit the floor and he felt incredibly small and guilty and worthless and he clung to the closest thing— Neil. His arms wrapped around the thin waist and his face buried itself against his stomach, his shoulders shaking and muffled sniffling noises came from Dave. Tears started to leak from the corners of his eyes and he leaned heavily into Neil, the sob that left him shaking his frame and his grip on Neil tightened.
Neil grimaced as David seemed to spill out all that was bothering him. His troubles and worries and- just- what was Neil supposed to do? He’d never been around emotional people (other than people blubbering about shows and the last ones of the runs and— that’s really it,) Hell, he never even saw his mother shed a tear when his father had passed. Emotions were never really his thing, bizarre, he supposed, being that he was in love with the theatre.
‘No- you were right. You’re- you were right.’ Oh, the plague of always being right. How Neil wished he wasn’t completely perfect and flawless. It wasn’t fair for the rest of humanity, really, ‘They can’t stand to be around me and I-I push people away.’ Neil sighed, shaking his head and putting his other hand on David’s other shoulder, “Hey- listen-” but, that was no help, ‘I just- I push Amanda away, I push Will away, I- I pushyou away-’ Neil squeezed his shoulders for just a moment, “David- don’t- just-” he was at a loss for words, which was a miracle, seeing that he usually had a quick quip, a witty comeback, or an insulting comment always ready to be said.
Just like that- David fell to his knees, Neil unable to hold him up. “Fuck—” he muttered, which was quickly cut off by the feel of David’s arms wrapping around his middle. Neil looked downwards, confused- oh. “Shit,” he murmured, feeling his heart lurch sadly for the boy before him. He rubbed his face and sighed, looking downa t the blond head of hair once more. “David,” he said softly, “David,” Neil said again. No response.
David’s body shook with a sob and Neil’s hands went to David’s hair, thin fingers threading through and combing it back. He felt wetness touch his skin through the thin shirt- tears, no doubt. He was crying. Fuck. David was crying. “Hey,” Neil said, tugging on David’s hair gently, just to get attention, “Hey,” he repeated sternly, fingers continuing to card through the soft blond strands of hair, “You’re okay- I still want you. You’re a decent light tech, I still want you,” he smirked, “You’re okay, you are,” Neil’s words came out murmured, “I still somewhat like you, and I’ll want you, alright?”
Neil’s hand settled on his shoulder- ’David just- I’m sure someone fucking wants you. You have- friends and shit.’- and Dave broke. He swallowed a sob, his shoulders shaking from it and shook his head, taking a shuddering breath. “No- you were right. You’re- you were right. They can’t stand to be around me and I-I push people away. I just- I push Amanda away, I push Will away, I- I push you away-” Everyone. The only one he didn’t- couldn’t- push away was Tommy and- and eventhen he was so hesitant to lean on Tommy too much because it wasn’tfair to lean so much on Tommy when he was hurting too. “They- they can’t stand me and they’d h-hate me if- Will hates me and I-“
Word vomit. Plain and simple. His tongue was loosened by the massive amount of whiskey running through him and all pride he had left had been forgotten there at the bar. He grit his teeth, a soft noise escaping him and his legs stopped supporting him. His knees hit the floor and he felt incredibly small and guilty and worthless and he clung to the closest thing— Neil. His arms wrapped around the thin waist and his face buried itself against his stomach, his shoulders shaking and muffled sniffling noises came from Dave. Tears started to leak from the corners of his eyes and he leaned heavily into Neil, the sob that left him shaking his frame and his grip on Neil tightened.
Neil grimaced as David seemed to spill out all that was bothering him. His troubles and worries and- just- what was Neil supposed to do? He’d never been around emotional people (other than people blubbering about shows and the last ones of the runs and— that’s really it,) Hell, he never even saw his mother shed a tear when his father had passed. Emotions were never really his thing, bizarre, he supposed, being that he was in love with the theatre.
‘No- you were right. You’re- you were right.’ Oh, the plague of always being right. How Neil wished he wasn’t completely perfect and flawless. It wasn’t fair for the rest of humanity, really, ‘They can’t stand to be around me and I-I push people away.’ Neil sighed, shaking his head and putting his other hand on David’s other shoulder, “Hey- listen-” but, that was no help, ‘I just- I push Amanda away, I push Will away, I- I pushyou away-’ Neil squeezed his shoulders for just a moment, “David- don’t- just-” he was at a loss for words, which was a miracle, seeing that he usually had a quick quip, a witty comeback, or an insulting comment always ready to be said.
Just like that- David fell to his knees, Neil unable to hold him up. “Fuck—” he muttered, which was quickly cut off by the feel of David’s arms wrapping around his middle. Neil looked downwards, confused- oh. “Shit,” he murmured, feeling his heart lurch sadly for the boy before him. He rubbed his face and sighed, looking downa t the blond head of hair once more. “David,” he said softly, “David,” Neil said again. No response.
David’s body shook with a sob and Neil’s hands went to David’s hair, thin fingers threading through and combing it back. He felt wetness touch his skin through the thin shirt- tears, no doubt. He was crying. Fuck. David was crying. “Hey,” Neil said, tugging on David’s hair gently, just to get attention, “Hey,” he repeated sternly, fingers continuing to card through the soft blond strands of hair, “You’re okay- I still want you. You’re a decent light tech, I still want you,” he smirked, “You’re okay, you are,” Neil’s words came out murmured, “I still somewhat like you, and I’ll want you, alright?”
He was pathetic. He was a fucking pathetic mess and it was now apparent to everyone in his mind- including himself. He was willing to break his own rules- never drink alone, friends don’t fuck friends (or try) and never drink so much that you lose all control. He had now done all three in the same night. He was pathetic enough to disregard all of the guidelines he set for himself; pathetic enough to where he would rather sleep in the theatre than face William; pathetic enough to literally collapse and sob into Neil’s stomach. Neil who was constantly irritated by his bullshit- who was constantly having to go behind him and clean up the messes and disaster he left in his wake- who was —
Who was actually making another effort to comfort him. Neil’s fingers through his hair and the soft voice were reassuring. Surprisingly so. The comment about his ability as a light tech pulled a shaky laugh from him and he nuzzled his face in the t-shirt. ‘I still somewhat like you, and I’ll want you, alright?’ A bitter laugh left him, “You wouldn’t— y-you wouldn’t if you knew-” and his grip tightened on Neil tightened all the more as if he was afraid that just thinking about Jason would cause Neil to run. And he didn’t want to be alone. He didn’t want Neil to leave him. He starter to shake again and he took a shuddering breath, trying to stop the tightness in his chest, “I-I didn’t mean— it was an accident but- but it doesn’t matter—”
David’s body racked itself with sobs, and Neil held him closer, one hand securing David where he was and the other continuing its soothing job of pushing his hair away. He felt the shaky laugh travel through David’s body, and that caused a smirk to settle on Neil’s lips. Good. He was laughing. Good. Neil liked the sound of the laughter much more than he liked the sound of David’s sobbing— which he hated. ‘You wouldn’t— you-you wouldn’t if you knew-‘ David’s arms tightened around him and Neil shook his head, “C’mon, don’t be such a faggot,” he said softly, tilting his head up to look at his face and into his eyes, “You’re the only fucker around here than can properly work the lights likeI like them,” he sighed, letting David once again bury his face in his shirt and abdomen.
He heard the blond draw in a long, shaking breath. ‘I-I didn’t mean— it was an accident but-‘ Neil pushed the hair away from his face, “What are you saying David, c’mon- Dave, I’m not going to say anything- I’m your Stage Manager, I think I know more than I should,” he smirked, “I’ve seen you naked before- not much worse,” he laughed a little. Okay. He was doing good. He was. David wasn’t ripping his eyes out, nor was he cryingharder per se. David had laughed, which meant Neil wasn’t doing a completely shitty job,‘but- but it doesn’t matter—’
Neil cleared his throat, “What doesn’t matter. Dave- just- say it. Something’s bothering you and- Jesus fuck, it’s going to kill you if you keep it in,” which was correct. He’d been in dark enough spots in his life to know as much.
‘What doesn’t matter. Dave- just- say it.’
A whimper left him and he shook his head. No, he didn’t want to say it- didn’t need to say anything. He was fine. He could handle it. It wasn’t a big deal. He was- was just being a bitch about it. Yeah. He was fine. Perfectly fine.
‘Something’s bothering you and- Jesus fuck, it’s going to kill you if you keep it in.’
He shook his head all the more, biting down hard on his bottom lip, “I can’t- I can’t, Neil-” There were times when he knew that- that one of these days the guilt that he carried around over Jason’s death was going to send him over the edge. And maybe he deserved that. He killed Jason. Maybe it was only fair that he carry this— this burden all on his own. Even thought it was suffocating him.
He didn’t want to be alone. Keeping this all to himself- not confiding in others and just pushing those who wanted to help away- was only going to end up doing just that. Leaving him alone. But- but he didn’t want to hear the words that ran circles in his head- I killed Jason, I killed Jason, I killed Jason. He didn’t want anyone to know— to hear the confession from his own lips. He hadn’t even told Tommy. Tommy was his best friend— his brother, his confidant— he told everything to Tommy. Everything but this one thing and— another choked sob rose up his throat.
“I- I can’t- I didn’t mean to,” he should shut his mouth. There was a part of him that was desperate to keep his mouth shut and an even bigger part that was even more desperate to speak. “I- J-Jason— I swear to God, it was an ac-accident, Neil- I swear-“
‘I can’t- I can’t, Neil-‘ and the dark haired boy frowned, tutting softly like his mother had done way back when, the times he had cried over his father, break ups, shows, things like that. “It’s alright, I promise,” his voice was low and soft, and he tried to remember the things his mother did when he was upset in such a way. “It’s fine, you can- I swear, I won’t leave. Since when do I leave things abandoned in the middle? You know me, Dave, c’mon,” he said lightly, trying to make progress.
‘I-I can’t- I didn’t mean to,’ Neil nodded, thin fingers still moving through the feathery hair, “I bet you didn’t,” he said, “Listen, Dave.” he said quietly, “Listen.” Neil took a deep breath because to him, being emotional and letting people know how he felt about things was just- so- messy. “I’d want you as a-” just say it, it’s not that hard. Friend. Now. Out loud. “Friend. Even if your face was all burnt up. Even if you had green skin.”
‘I- J-Jason— I swear to God, it was an ac-accident, Neil- I swear-‘ Neil sighed, closing his eyes and holding David a little tighter to him. He was spouting nonsense, saying things that Neil didn’t understand. So, Jason. Who the hell was that.
Neil froze for a couple of seconds, “David,” he said gently, moving his head so that he could look into his face. “Fuck, David,” he murmured, “Just-” what was he supposed to say, “It’s alright,” he said, “I swear, it’s alright,” Neil felt David sob into his stomach and just held him there, hands doing all they could to comfort him, letting himself fall silent. David needed that. David needed him to shut up, for Neil to just be quiet and let him cry. “It’s alright,” he murmured one last time before quieting himself.
‘It’s fine, you can- I swear, I won’t leave.’
Dave swallowed hard, clenching his eyes tightly shut, tears still escaping from the corners of his eyes. Everything felt like it was coming out in a rush and he clung to Neil, anchoring himself to him. He hadn’t meant to tell him- but he had to tell someone. Someone who— who wasn’t going to think any more or less of him for it. There wasn’t much lower he could fall in Neil’s eyes. This went farther than his normal shenanigans that Neil put up with. He had already missed rehearsal, arrived at the theatre drunk twice and was now sobbing into his shirt. There was really no where to go from there except up.
He felt Neil tense and— god, he hated himself for how weak and stupid and pathetic he was— he clenched fistfuls of Neil’s t-shirt and his entire body shook from his sobs. ‘David.’ His voice came out in a soft plea, ”Please- Neil, I didn’t mean- don’t-” Don’t leave me. Please, God, not after that.
‘It’s alright. I swear it’s alright.’
It was not alright. It still felt like someone had ripped off the bandaid covering and he was exposed and bleeding and— and Neil’s hands were carding through his hair and the soft, reassuring murmurs were exactly that and after a few moments, Dave’s shaking and quieted down to a soft tremble and his breathing slowed. Everything hurt- physically and otherwise- and he slumped against Neil. His head was pounding and when he sniffed, a sharp pain ran through him temples, pulling a soft groan from him. His arms were still wrapped around Neil and he had made no motion to move them- he should, he realized but Dave was selfish. He wasn’t quite ready to give up the comfort from being there. “I’m sorry, Neil,” he murmured, shoulders slumping.
They were quiet. Their voices turned off and- all that could be heard was David’s sobbing, his sniffling, his small whines. Neil stood there, with David kneeling before him, being as strong as he could. This was David. David Harris, who made rehearsals impossible and shows even more so. David Harris, who drove him insane and back. David Harris, who, at times, did make him laugh.
So, he owed it to him. At least he made work fun.
Not that he’d ever say that out loud.
David’s body leaned against Neil’s bottom half, and finally, Neil let out a long, slow sigh.‘I’m sorry, Neil,’ came David’s voice, very low and soft, “I know,” he said, patting David’s head and smoothing his hair, “I know,” he remembered back when his own father had died and how he felt responsible. He could barely imagine what David was feeling in that moment. “I’m not going anywhere,” he added.
Again, they fell silent. Neil looked down at the blond head of hair at his middle, “You don’t have to keep it in anymore,” he murmured softly, hands resting and just playing with the hair, Neil thinking the strands very soft, “See? I still want you,” he spoke gently, “You’re still the best light tech, I’ve worked with, and I still think you’re a fucking jackass, and yet- I still want you,” he smirked and tilted David’s head up carefully, “God, you’re in need of some real sleep,”
This was bad, and Neil knew that for a fact. But, David was fucked up as hell, “C’mon,” his voice was low and he moved David’s arms from being wrapped around him. Neil bent over and took one of David’s arms, putting it around his shoulders, “Up.” He said, standing and pulling the blond with him, “We’re going to my place,” he muttered, shuffling out the backdoor, locking it (which was hard, supporting David,) and heading to his car, “Fucking hell,” he muttered as he put David into the passenger seat, buckling him in before getting into the car himself, putting his seatbelt on and pulling out of the parking garage, heading down late-night New York City traffic towards his apartment.
Dave’s head was pounding and exhaustion swept over him. He couldn’t remember the last time he cried like that. Probably not since the day Jason died. It was tiring, feeling all of that at once after having gone so long without acknowledging it. Neil’s fingers continued to run through his hair and Dave felt himself start to slump heavier against Neil, relaxing under the gently caresses. Despite the fog that clouded his mind, Dave realized that- that he liked this side of Neil. The side that was soft murmurs and even softer caresses. This was a Neil he would probably never encounter again and it would be a miracle if he remembered once he was sober.
‘…and yet- I still want you.’
When you’ve hit rock bottom, the only place to go is up. And even though he wasn’t Neil’s favorite person, he still wanted him. He was past rock bottom with him but that meant there was only one way to go.
A hand lifted his chin and the brief thought of how much of a mess he must look passed his mind. ‘God, you’re in need of some real sleep.’ Real sleep. The only time he slept was when he passed out, drunk. When he passed out, there were no nightmares. He nodded slowly, trying desperately not to jar his head too much. Yes. Yes, sleep was good.
Neil pried Dave’s arms from around his middle and Dave let him— too tired to fight. His arm was tossed over Neil’s shoulders and at the command, he scrambled to his feet- at least as much as he could when Neil was practically lifting him himself. He said something about his place and Dave nodded, realizing how tired he was - too tired to even think about what Neil was saying. He let Neil drag him to the car, let him pull the buckle across him, securing him safely. The car started moving and his head pressed against the cool glass, half-lidded eyes watching the scenery rush by.
It took twenty minutes to drive through the streets of Manhattan and arrive in the edge of Brooklyn, right across the bridge and a little ways west, but, they arrived. Neil parked around back of his apartment building, sighing as the shaking vehicle turned off. The rattling of its engine slowly stopped itself, and when he was sure that everything cooled down (his car was notorious for smoking up,) he got out of the car and slid across the hood, opening the door of the passenger seat, and couching, looking up into David’s face, “Hey, we’re here,” he murmured, small smile on his lips and hand raising to touch David’s face softly, “Wake up, asshole,” he smirked, patting his face— though not too hard.
Neil sighed and pulled him out of the car, tugging him out of the seat and wrapping their arms around one another, “Alright,” he huffed, kicking the door closed and locking it, “Inside we go,” he muttered, breathing somewhat heavily under David’s weight.
The kid was drinking way too much fucking beer.
With great difficulty, he got David and himself up the half-flight of stairs to the entrance of the building. He jingled his keys, half-juggling them in one hand to find the right one, “You alright there?” Neil asked David, “Please don’t blow chunks on me, I really don’tfucking need that shit right now,” he muttered, pulling David into the building and looking up the stairs, groaning loudly.
“Of fucking course,” three flights of stairs. Three. Neil sighed, “You better fucking help me with this shit,” He said, jostling David slightly and nearing the steps, “Up we go,” he muttered, starting the long trek up the stairs. Fuck.
Halfway, he thought: Fuck Everest, this is harder.
They reached his floor. Neil was out of breath, but they’d reached the floor. He dragged David, who was still half-over his shoulder, to his apartment, 3C, and unlocked the door, having to shake the doorknob multiple times. “We’re here, faggot,” he mumbled, entering and making David lean against a wall as he locked the door, and hooked the chain. Neil looked to David, saw him slipping, “Fuck,” and caught him, “To the bed,” he said, leading him to said area and letting him flop on the furniture, the bed protesting loudly under the weight.
Neil let out another sigh, sitting himself on the floor and sighing. “Fucking shoes,” he didnot like shoes on his bed. No. His fingers untied David’s shoes, “I’m taking them off,” he muttered, doing exactly that. When he finished, he stood, “I’ll- take the chair. Or somethin’,” he looked at the floor, which wasn’t exactly too bad, if he pulled a blanket from the bed.
Had he been in his right state of mind, Dave would’ve already made several cracks about Neil’s car- how it rattled and was at the brink of falling apart into a pile of scrap metal in the middle of the road. But at that point, he was just happy it wasn’t a fucking cab. The window felt cool against his face and the rattling and shaking was soothing- almost like the car was rocking him and his eyes slid shut and his breathing evened out. He had just started to drift off when the car stopped. They were still for a moment and Dave made no motion to move, even after Neil’s door shut, rocking the door slightly. He pulled his face off of the window, his brow furrowing slightly at the loss of the cool touch of glass. Neil’s hand touched his cheek, patting it a little and his blurry eyes opened, a soft groan leaving him. They were there- that meant moving. God, he didn’t want to move.
Neil pulled him up from the car and Dave leaned heavily against him. God, he was never going to hear the end of this. Of how Neil had to literally drag his ass out of a car and into a building and- he didn’t know why it surprised him that Neil as able to take the practically dead weight he had become. Neil was a Stage Manager- he had plenty of exposure to carrying tools and set pieces. One couldn’t be physically weak to do what he did. A chuckle left him in a soft huff, “I don’ puke. An’ if I do- I’ll be sure t’ warn ya, alright?”
‘You better fucking help me with this shit.’
He lifted blurry eyes, the stairs swimming in his vision. Jesus fuck, how many stairs was that? “Fuck tha’,” he breathed as Neil hauled him up to the first step. He was going to owe him big for this. He tried to help— he really did. It was just difficult when his brain told his legs to go one way and they went the other. He felt like they had been walking forever and he slumped when Neil fiddled with the door. Fucking finally. He was about to just collapse onto the floor and sleep there when Neil pulled him through a door and pushed him against a wall. He stood for half of a moment before his legs decided they really didn’t want to work anymore and he started to slide down the wall. The floor would be nice and he could sleep—
But Neil’s arms wrap around him, pulling him up and a soft whine leaves him. ‘To the bed.’ Bed. Alright, yes- bed would be good. He flopped back on a mattress that was small- smaller than his and the brief realization that he was not in his bed passed through his mind but was gone before it could even stick. His legs hung over the side of the bed and he could feel someone pulling off his tennis shoes and he mumbled a slurred thanks, a hand swiping at his eyes.
‘I’ll- take the chair. Or somethin’.’
Dave shook his head, struggling to sit up before reaching out and grabbing hold of Neil’s warm hand and moaning, “Nooo, please- stay with me.” Pathetic. Utterly pathetic. He pulled on Neil’s hand, trying to tug him closer, “Please, Neil. Don’ leave me alone.”
The floor would be fine, he thought. It was carpeted and comfortable, dirty, yes, but— he heard the bed creak because of David’s movement and looked over, sighing, “What is it- need a bottle of water or something?” But, rather than be send in an errand to his mini fridge, David grabbed at his hand, making Neil’s cheeks burn up, “What the fuck,”
He moved his hand to push David’s away, but his eyes met the other’s blue ones, “Fuck,” he muttered, ‘Nooo, please- stay with me.’ To that, Neil sighed and frowned slightly. Damn David for this. Damn him. Jesus fucking hell. He could’ve been alone, curled up, talking to his mom before bed (she always worried when he didn’t call nightly,) possibly sipping coffee.
But no. David had to come and fuck it up. Neil felt David pull at his hand and he sighed, toeing off his shoes, ‘Please, Neil. Don’ leave me alone,’ he ran his free hand through his hair and crawled onto the bed, joining David, “I won’t,” he said, settling in beside David and stretching out slightly, hearing his joints crack. “Not gonna leave you, alright?” He muttered, huffing loudly and closing his eyes.
‘Not gonna leave you, alright?’
A knot welled in Dave’s stomach when the thought of, You will eventually, ran through his mind. He didn’t want Neil to leave. He scooted over a tad closer before tentatively wrapping his arms around Neil and burying his face in his shoulder. His eyes closed and he inhaled deeply- the smell of sawdust, coffee, cigarette smoke and something that was completely Neil filled his nose and he breathed out slowly, murmuring sleepily, “Good.” He started to yawn when he asked, “P-promise?”
He sighed, not waiting for an answer before turning his head into Neil’s shoulder, pressing his forehead against it, before loosening his grip from around Neil’s waist. He was pretty sure Neil wasn’t a cuddler. “G’night, Neil,” he mumbled, turning on his side to face the wall. Soon his breathing evened out and he slipped off to sleep, comforted by the warmth coming from the body next to him.
He settled in next to David and was immediately engulfed by the scent of the blond, alchohol and the streets of New York— not exactly something that he wanted his bed to smell like but— Neil sighed, scooting nearer, supposing that he could deal with it, just get over it, since that would probably make things easier.
David’s arms closed around him and Neil felt— well, not uncomfortable. Actually, distinctively comfortable, minus the smell that maybe caused him to want to barf— a little. ‘Good,’ came David’s voice, and Neil nodded, taking a long breath and just trying to force himself to sleep. The sooner he slept, the sooner— ‘Promise?’
Maybe it was the strain in David’s voice or just the desperation he sensed, but, Neil softened up, glancing down at the blonde and smiling a little, “I promise,” he said, meaning it. “I’m your SM.” He said, pulling the blanket up over the both of them, “Not going anywhere,” he mumbled. ‘G’night, Neil,’ said David, turning away from him.
God. He was pathetic. The both of them were. Neil let out a breath and huffed, shifting around in bed. He knew, oh he knew all too well that David liked shit like- like- Neil wrapped his arms around David, his chest to the blond’s back, other arm acting like a pillow for his own head, hand moving through David’s hair. “Good night,” he said, snuggled close against David and definitely concentrating on how this was not cool and not how he was finding this comfy.
David drifted off to sleep and Neil stayed up, watching the blond, making sure that he was alright. The last thing he needed was David upchucking on the bed, choking while he slept, or just- well- having a nightmare. Because- that would be worse. “I swear to fuckin’ god, fuck…” he mumbled before falling asleep himself, about an hour after David, head leaning on the blond.
Dave was just starting to drift off to sleep- hovering in the place between being asleep and awake- when the mattress shifted again. He contemplated turning his head, cracking an eye and seeing what Neil was doing when an arm wrapped around him and when he leaned back the slightest bit, he met the resistance of a warm body. Fingers started to card through his hair and he felt— felt at ease. He melted against the hold, allowing himself to fall into sleep- his chest rising and falling in time with the the chest that pressed against his back.
It felt like someone had taken a sledge hammer to the side of his head. The pain was the first thing to hit him and he moaned slightly, burying his face into the pillow. Thankfully the fabric was still cool and it eased the heat that had pooled under his skin. He inhaled and paused- this wasn’t his pillow. The smell was all wrong. Not that it was unpleasant- just a surprise. That’s when he noticed the arm around his waist. It had a nice weight to it- holding him there and he chanced cracking an eye to stare down at who’s arm was around him. The sunlight pierced his vision and he bit down a groan. Ow, ow, ow. He blinked a few times, trying to focus on the arm. It looked. Familiar. Oh God, familiar isn’t good.
There was a weight against his shoulder and he turned his head to look over said shoulder. A head full of dark hair greeted him and he frowned, shifting his shoulder slightly until his companion’s face was visible- mere inches from his own. He started slightly, eyes roaming over the features, trying to justify the face he was seeing in his mind. How- how did he end up with Neil? In his bed? There was the slight moment of panic when until he looked down to see his clothes were still on. Good. Good, that meant they hadn’t- well there was still kissing to consider. He might’ve been too drunk to get it up. His eyes settled on Neil’s lips for any sort of evidence that they had kissed. Nothing really- nothing that would hint at the two of their lips meeting. His teeth ran over his own lips and he focused harder on the lips on front of him. Had Neil’s lips always been shaped like that?
Dammit, Harris. He gave his head a short shake, regretting it almost immediately. Bad idea, bad idea. God, he needed- needed aspirin and coffee and water and some goddamn mac and cheese, for the love of all that was holy. His head lifted slightly, peering over to the small kitchenette— best to start with coffee. Gently lifting the arm from around him and laying it on the bed, Dave slipped from the tiny mattress and headed over to the even tinier kitchen. I think Sarah’s barbies dolls had bigger kitchens than this, he thought, quietly digging in the cabinets until he found the coffee can. It didn’t take him long to get the coffee pot brewing happily and he leaned against the cabinet, rubbing his temples, trying to banish the headache as the warm smell of coffee filled the air.
Some nights, Neil was a light sleeper. Though, more often than not, he was a heavy one. But, no matter what amount of sleep Neil got, he was notcoherent before his morning cup of coffee. One could convince him of absolutely anything before his morning pick up. Pink elephants dancing outside? Sure. Building was on fire, go down the escape in your pyjamas? Hurry up, fucker. The world was ending in a zombie apocalypse? Well, shit son, get your crowbar.
Hell, his days of high school were barely days at all, but afternoons. That is, until, he’d invested in the miraculous bean and- well- his morning classes were much more understandable. For one- the teachers didn’t sound as if they were speaking German (not in German class either, mind you, that was in the afternoon.)
It had been more than a year since he’d lived with his mom and had the scent of coffee in the morning to guide him to the lands of consciousness and reality, rather than the realm of dreams and- well, perfect shows all the time.
He sniffed and got a whiff of coffee. Neil groaned, moving around in the bed and curling up tightly, pulling the covers with him. “Five more minutes,” he mumbled, feeling the sunshine from the of course eastern facing window beat on his his blanket, making it unbearably hot. He automatically pulled away his shirt, tossing it behind him, doing the same with his jeans, “Nnnnn…” he protested, sitting up in his best and putting on a very sour expression, hand rising to his hair.
A mess. His hair was sticking up and he could feel it— but coffee. Neil sniffed around and looked to his tiny little kitchen area, “D-dave?” He asked, squinting, then huffing. “Christ,” he muttered, smacking his forehead and falling back onto the bed, laying down again. “M’sleepy…” Neil turned away from the kitchen area, eager for more sleep.
Hangovers were the fucking worst. It was like someone had driven railroad spikes into his temples. His fingertips were poised on either side of his head, massaging the throbbing temples, wishing someone would just come and put him out of his fucking misery. Of course, as if almost on cue with that thought, someone groaned from the apartment and Dave realized it wasn’t him after a few moments of wondering where the noise came from. His eyes flickered over to the bed, watching Neil curl up and mumble something about more minutes. Dave’s mouth curled up in a soft smirk; of all the people who’s bed he could’ve ended up in, it would be Neil. What a cruel mistress Fate was.
The coffee pot gave one last half-hearted sputter, signaling that it was finished brewing. Dave had started to turn when a flash of movement from the corner of his eyes caught his attention. He turned sharply- immediately regretting the move, groaning softly, lifting a hand to his forehead as if to still his brain- in time to see pants fly behind Neil’s head. The line between his eyes creased as his eyes flickered from the now small pile of clothing on the floor to the now bare torso that lifted from the bed, blankets pooling around his waist.
Now, that really wasn’t fair. It was like waving a steak in front of a starving man. Neil’s arm raised to touch his hair and Dave could see the lines of muscle definition that cut through his bicep and shoulder, moving down the line of his side- taking in the just visible ribs- and the way his waist tapered, cut off by the blankets that pooled around the faint hint of Neil’s belly button and Jesus Christ, Harris - pull your head out of your ass- this is Neil. Suddenly, anything and everything was more important- more interesting for sure- than the sleepy figure of Neil sitting there on the bed.
Dave smirked, “Mornin’ sunshine.” He turned towards the coffee pot, digging in the cabinets on a desperate search, “Dammit Neil, where are your coffee cups?” Anything to distract from sleepy Neil who from the sound of protest from the mattress, had decided to get a few more minutes of shut-eye. Dave’s hand swept across his eyes, trying to banish the sight from his mind. This was Neil. And Dave had the very strictest policy: Thou Shall Not Fuck Thy Neighbor. Meaning very simply that one did not engage in sexual intercourse with people one was constantly engaged with. No literal neighbors, no cast members, no co-workers. No Neil. No matter how tempting his stupid body was at that point in time. Besides, it couldn’t hurt to just look, right?
As he turned away from the horrible noisy kitchen, the blankets pulled up and exposed his backside. Neil groaned, hand lazily moving to cover himself, make himself decent, “Just… A few more minutes,” he mumbled again. ‘Mornin’ sunshine,’ the words received a grunt from the sleepy Neil, who then rolled over and eyed David through heavily lidded, very tired, blue-green eyes.
‘Dammit Neil,’ Neil looked up at him, blinking several times to get everything into focus. Fuck. He scoot up his bed, neglecting to pull the blanket, leaving move of him exposed as he grabbed for the glasses on his stand. He put them on and looked over at David, “What.” His voice came, hoarse, weak, and monotonously. ‘Where are your coffee cups?’A long sigh pushed itself from Neil’s throat, and he raised a heavy hand, pointing to the cabinet beside the sink. “In there,” he mumbled, letting his arm drop and staring blankly at David in silence for just a few moments.
“You’re in my apartment,” which was, to say the least, embarrassing. His eyes glanced around and, though he made no move to get out of bed, he grimaced. Everything was a mess— and not in the normal, organised mess he usually had. Tech Week brought out the worst in Neil.
Neil sat up slowly, first propping himself up on his elbows, then finally sitting up, even though slightly hunched over. He rubbed at his eyes with his hands, “Just- Nnnnn.” He let out, leaning to the side and using the wall to keep him sitting up. “Coffee,” he groaned, much like a zombie wanting brains.
Just like a zombie wanting brains, really. Neil looked to David again, utterly confused. He knew he hadn’t been drunk the night before— he knew that for a fact. So. Why the ever-loving fuck was David doing there? What- maybe- Oh. Was David drunk the night before? Neil would not have brought anyone to his apartment, only if it were a sort of emergency. “David,” he groaned tiredly, “Coffee,” he demanded, having caught the smell, even in his sleep. “Gimme coffee,” he said tiredly, shaking his head in an attempt to wake up, sending his glasses across the bed. Neil reached for them, giving up and folding over, body hunched forward, same direction as legs, “I give up,” he moaned, “Give up,” Neil repeated, sighing and rolling over, the blankets once again neglecting to cover his backside, Neil having to tug and pull at the covers for them to do their jobs.
“Why’re you here,” he asked in the direction of the wall but was speaking to David, slowly piecing everything together in his mind. David was. Drunk. David was drunk. And- something bad. He did something bad. Something worse than just fucking a cast member. Fuck. It was- the accident. David. The car accident. No. Just-
Neil, once more, rolled over to face David, arms held out to take a mug of coffee, leg exposed because of poor blanket managing skills. One hand moved down to tug the blankets every which way. “Nnn. Fuck. Hate everything.” He said, yawning.
He was digging in one of the cabinets— finding and eclectic group of plastic plates and bowls of every color from the look of it- when he heard the mattress dip and groan with Neil’s movement. His head turned in time to see Neil reach over and- dammitdammitdammit- the blanket slipped from his waist and Dave could see the slightest dip in his hip- skin stretched taut against bone and it was an act of God for him to tear his eyes away. Neil had grabbed his glasses and Dave turned back, slightly horrified at the heat he could feel travelling across his face. What was wrong with him? It was not the first time he had ever been around a mostly- or completely- naked man. He couldn’t remember the last time he had actually… blushed flushed. Over something like this.
Neil’s arm waved to a cabinet and the mumbled, ‘In there’ had him turning away from the sight of Neil and practically crawling into the cabinet, searching for mugs. Mugs for coffee that would wake Neil up enough for him to cover himself and then temptation would’ve been averted. ‘You’re in my apartment.’ A short laugh left Dave as he pulled two of the larger mugs, happy to feel that they had a good weight to them. Means the coffee won’t freeze as soon as it’s poured. He nodded, not sure if Neil could even see yet, moving back to the coffee pot, his back to Neil, “Uh, yeah. Seems that way, don’t it?” You’re the one that brought me here, dipshit. Not that he wasn’t grateful. God knows he could’ve woken up in an alley if Neil hadn’t brought him back to his place. It was just. Unnerving. To say the least.
“What the fuck do you think I’m doing, Your Highness?’ he spat, digging in the cabinets for sugar and creamer. Sugar but no creamer. Milk would do. He turned to the mini fridge, pulling the small half gallon, frowning a bit at the not-entirely-chilled feeling. He twisted the cap and sniffed- still good. Just not completely cold. His eyes flickered to the bed, watching Neil roll around and blankets slip and- fuck, coffee. The sooner there was caffeine running through Neil, the sooner Dave would be able to actually look at him in a quasi- normal way.
A short laugh escaped Dave as he stirred the sugar and milk, mixing it with the black coffee, “Well, I’m assuming because you had a brief moment of compassion and decided not to let me sleep in a cardboard box.” The spoon clinked on the edge of the mug and the sound left Dave wincing but he grabbed a mug in each hand, turning to Neil who had apparently ‘given up’. He was twisted on the bed, blankets seeming to cover everything but where Neil wanted it to be. Blue eyes ran across the exposed leg- from the ankle up to the barely exposed hip joint- and it was somewhat begrudgingly that Dave decided that Neil had nice legs. For a guy. He reached the bed, setting one of the mugs on the stand, and handing Neil the second, “Here,” before reaching over and pulling the blankets to cover Neil’s bottom half somewhat forcefully. There. Crisis averted. Now he wouldn’t be sitting there letting his mind wander to what was just hidden under the blanket while he drank his coffee.
This was, although Neil wasn’t really aware of it at that moment, the first time that Neil had had anyone over to his apartment in such a manner. He wasn’t exactly kind and he wasn’t exactly the sort to be friendly and invite people over for drinks, or- well- studying even. His friends were all in the theatre, at least, most of them were— if they were even friends to begin with. There was Mark, of course, but- well. He wasn’t all too much of a friend. Same with David. He was just. There.
He asked David why he was there. Wasn’t David the one to leave before sunrise? Before the other party woke up, or even stirred? Why the hell had he stayed? Just to thank him? Neil didn’t do thank yous.
Alright. They were nice from time to time.
‘Well, I’m assuming because you had a brief moment of compassion,’ Neil sighed and sat himself up, shifting around in the bed and leaning his back against the cool wall, pulling the blankets to cover his bottom half. Compassion. Never again, Neil thought, ‘and decided not to let me sleep in a cardboard box.’
“I am such a fuckin’ generous Stage Manager, holy shit,” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes again before reaching for his glasses— those damn things that he absolutely hated and only wore around his home. “Fuck,” he muttered, pinching himself to wake up completely, even though he knew that the only way for him to be completely coherent was to down coffee.
Neil let out a sigh and slumped, sliding down the wall and laying down again, that time on his stomach. A leg peeked out of the blankets and Neil groaned about it being too cold and too hot and all the complaints that one could make about the temperature were mumbled out of his mouth and into the pillow. ‘Here,’
He smelled the distinct, very strong smell of coffee and turned his head towards David, rolling onto his back, the covers sliding about and hands reaching towards the mug eagerly. David’s hands pulled up Neil’s blankets and he made a sound of protest— too hot— he complained, huffing and sitting and staring down into the cup of coffee.
Neil Carter had high expectations when it came to coffee. It was where all his extra money went. Starbucks, local cafes, the grocery store with the coffee machine— all places that held his wallet in a tight grip that he wasn’t all too eager to break. “You made coffee,” his voice was deadpanned and he sneered at the cup, taking a sniff and looking up at David, “You made coffee.” He repeated, scrutinizing him with narrowed eyes and lifting the mug to his lips, “Is it poisoned?” He asked, glaring at the blond.
Dave snorted and nodded, reaching for the coffee cup on the bedside table. His hand wrapped around the handle, bringing the mug close to his face. Coffee was honest to God one of the best smells in the entire world. His eyes flickered over to Neil, who was staring down at the coffee with obvious mistrust. Neil smelled like coffee. Yes, Harris, as does every other person involved in any theatre on the face of the planet. His brow furrowed and he stared down at his own coffee while Neil repeated himself, ‘You made coffee.’
“Yes, Neil. I made coffee,” the edge of the mug touched his lips as Neil opened his mouth. ‘Is it poisoned?’ Dave’s brow furrowed, returning the glare from the other man. Because I would’ve had time to poison it. Or the means to poison it. But his mouth quirked up the slightest bit and an eyebrow cocked up, “Yup.” He looked down at his mug and gently swirled the liquid, pursing his lips slightly, “You’ll never guess what I used for cream.” An impish grin crossed his face and he lifted the mug, “Cheers.”
The first swallow of coffee first thing in the morning is always the best. It didn’t matter if Dave was hungover, completely sober, had a full night’s rest or had pulled an all-nighter- the first swallow was always the best. That strong taste hit his tongue, waking up his taste buds and clearing his mind of the fog that sleep had left over. He swallowed- the warm liquid sliding smoothly down his throat and hitting his stomach, spreading warmth through his limbs. Of course, considering the amount of alcohol he had consumed the night before, the first swallow sent a burn through his stomach and he grimaced- but the pain was short lived and all thatwas left was the warm feeling that spread all the way down to his toes. “See? Not poisoned.”
Another swallow ran down his throat- not quite burning like the first- and Dave frowned at the mug before looking up at Neil. Dark hair was tousled, eyes hidden behind thick, dark-rimmed glasses, sleep etched in every minuscule line. Dave’s mouth quirked up the slightest bit at the sort of… vulnerability that Neil had first thing in the morning. He cleared his throat, looking down at the coffee in his mug, “It’s not like, Starbucks, or anything. But it’s not that shit Mark tries to pass off as coffee.”
It wasn’t a literal question, asking if the coffee was poisoned or not. But, still, maybe it was a precaution he thought that he should take when receiving things from David Harris. ‘Yup,’ David answered, resulting in an eye roll from Neil, scoffing at him. He glanced into the mug and gulping, putting it to his lips and taking a long swallow— ‘You’ll never guess what I used for cream.’
Neil sputtered and choked coffee dribbling down his chin, “Fuck,” he coughed, pounding his chest with his fist in order to restart his drowning-in-coffee lungs. ‘Cheers,’ David said, childish and stupid grin on his face as he lifted the mug up. Neil glared, grimaced, and did the same, trying to keep the coughing and not spread himself over everything.
Alright. Let’s try again.
Neil took a breath and raised the warm mug to his lips again, tilting the cup and drinking its contents. The heat spread throughout his body, from his lips, to his fingers, to his toes, and the tips of his hair and— god, this wasn’t fair why was the coffee so perfect? Strong without being overwhelmingly so, smooth and rich and dark and otherwise heated and filling— ‘See? Not poisoned.’ Neil merely nodded and let out a grunt, drinking more of the coffee.
He should’ve expected that, of course with his luck, Dave would make the best coffee.
Neil took several more gulps, sighing when the mug’s contents reached the halfway point. The caffeine was waking up his system, yanking everything from the lethargic, yet strong, bonds of sleep. ‘It’s not like, Starbucks, or anything.’ Neil looked up at David for the first time that morning with actual recognition in his eyes. Fuck, he thought, David was in his house, David had spent the night, and— David had made coffee. Neil took another gulp of the coffee, treating it like a shot, “Fuck,” he muttered, rubbing his face with his hand and hearing Dave go on, ‘But it’s not that shit Mark tries to pass off as coffee.’
He snorted, shaking his head and cupping the mug with both hands, “S’decent,” he said, “Yours. Mark’s is— ” he paused, well… “Shit. Utter shit.” Neil drank another bit, grumbling, “Yours is… alright. I guess.” Fuck you, David Harris, fuck you so hard. I hate you for making fucking phenomenal coffee.
Neil cracked his neck and put the warm mug aside, sliding his glasses off (great, that was the first time David had seen him in them, wasn’t it?) and pinching the bridge of his nose. Most, if not all, traces of tired and sleep and let me get back into my cocoon of warmth had left him and all that was there was actuality. “You were piss fucking drunk last night,” he muttered, hands moving and rising up to his temples to rub at them. He wasn’t the one drinking, but god was he going to get a headache later on. “Piss fucking drunk and- “Next time you’re drunk, I hope you have a nice fucking time on the streets, fucking asshole,” he muttered, the only words in his brain being himself, yelling at David on how he would never in a million years get into his bed.
So, maybe the ‘cream’ joke was a bit juvenile and somewhat in bad taste. Neil had after all brought him into his house and let him drink his coffee and sleep in his bed— but really with the poisoning comment, how could he resist? He couldn’t and that was the simple fact. And the sputtering and coughing coming from Neil was priceless. His eyes watched as Neil’s fist slammed against his chest and he couldn’t resist a slight snort in his own coffee. Sometimes he was really proud of the reaction he could get from people— whether it was a positive reaction or not didn’t really matter.
However unpopular as he might be at that point, his coffee seemed to be having a much more positive review. Or it could possibly be that at that early in the morning, Neil would drink motor oil as long as it woke him up. Which is fair, considering that’s what Mark’s ‘coffee’ tastes like,he thought, his eyebrows raising the slightest bit with the thought. It really was god-awful. Whoever had tried to teach that boy to brew had fucked up badly somewhere in his instruction. And yet, Neil somehow managed to swallow it and not vomit- which was of course, Dave’s first reaction to the bitter sludge.
’S’decent. Yours. Mark’s is…Shit. Utter shit.’
Dave would be lying if his chest didn’t puff out the tiniest bit with pride. He had beat Mark and although making better coffee seemed like a stupid thing to be proud over, Dave made a point to never over-look the little things in life. ‘Yours is…alright. I guess.’ His shoulders shrugged and he took a moment to swallow some of the coffee, “Thanks.” It was a rare occasion that Neil actually praised someone to their faces in a direct way. And this was more direct than he could ever remember Neil being. He was too busy enjoying coffee and the praise that Neil’s words didn’t register in his mind at first.
‘You were piss fucking drunk last night.’
He paused, slowly lowering the mug from his lips. ‘Piss fucking drunk and- “Next time you’re drunk, I hope you have a nice fucking time on the streets, fucking asshole.’ His thumb ran along the edge of the mug and he stared down at it, feeling something hot creep across the back of his neck and spread to his cheeks, tinging them pink accompanied by a heaviness that sat on his chest like an elephant, making him feel like crawling into a hole and never leaving. He wasn’t sure what the fuck was going on with him and why he felt the need to apologize profusely to Neil and why he wanted to— shame. It hit him like a ton of bricks to the face and he sat there for a moment, stunned as the enormity of the feeling swept over him. He was ashamed. How long had it been since he had truly felt ashamed? Too long apparently. His brow furrowed; why was he feeling it now? This was nothing new— well, waking up in Neil’s apartment and having coffee was. But. Getting piss drunk and making stupid choices? That was the norm. He honesty couldn’t remember the last time he felt ashamed for his actions.
“I’m sorry, Neil,” he muttered, staring down at the mug, ignoring the heat that continued to march across his face, “It was. Stupid and— thanks for making sure I didn’t end face down in a ditch.”
For several long, strenuous moments, there was silence between the two of them. He felt as if all that could be heard was the echo of his words, damning him to spend drunk nights in the streets of New York City, where a variety of possibilities could occur— getting mugged, getting kidnapped— hell, anything, anywhere, could happen. And, alright, if the events of the prior night were to repeat themselves, he didn’t think he had the heart to turn him away.
And after what Neil then knew? No. Not at all.
‘I’m sorry, Neil,’ came David’s small voice, pulling Neil’s gaze from the coffee cup to look at him. He looked— almost defeated, and Neil frowned at the sight, muttering god damn it under his breath. ‘It was. Stupid and— thanks for making sure I didn’t end face down in a ditch,’
Neil’s lips pulled up in a half-smirk and he shrugged, taking another slow sip of the coffee, fucking hell what a perfect brew—Jesus. “It’s- fine. I. Don’t know. I didn’t… I didn’t want to lose a decent light tech,” he shrugged, looking to David and frowning slightly, his eyebrows furrowing together. Neil’s gaze dropped to the cup again, “Besides, you sort of- needed someone. It seemed.” He shrugged again.
‘It’s- fine. I. Don’t know. I didn’t… I didn’t want to lose a decent light tech.’
Dave’s head lifted and he met Neil’s gaze for a moment, taking in the way the other’s lips turned down the slightest bit and how the dark brows knit together. Yes, a decent light tech. Parts of the night were starting to piece themselves together— a bit disjointed at some parts but for the most part, it was starting to come together. He would honestly be surprised if Neil let him within fifty feet of the theatre after how he acted last night. That feeling of wanting to become very small was back when he thought about it. He had been drunk in the theatre. He could’ve groaned right then and there. He could only imagine the sort of asshole he had been. Obviously enough of one for Neil to throw him in a cab— literally throw him from what he could recollect— and send him to. To Amanda’s.
That was a whole other can of worms. He didn’t want to think about it. He shoved the thoughts and memories from that portion of the night away. Deal with it later. Much later. Or not at all. Yeah. Not at all is good.
‘Besides, you sort of- needed someone. It seemed.’
He swallowed hard. It felt like he always needed someone or something. Distractions. Distractions that were easily drained of whatever use they had and then tossed away. He looked over at Neil. That was going to pose a problem. His options were limited when it came to Neil. He had to see him everyday, had to work in close quarters with him. But— it wasn’t like they had fucked. At least, he didn’t recall having sex with him. And in what universe would he have put his clothes back on and passed out in the same bed with him if they had? He didn’t— Dave didn’t do this sort of thing. His eyes ran over Neil’s expression and a sinking feeling in his stomach made him lower the mug from his lips. He had cried, he remembered that with a slight frown. Of course he had cried in front of Neil. Because fate hated him. His thumb ran along the rim of the mug, “I. Uh-” he nodded and a hand ran through his hair, scratching at the back of his head, “I’m sorry. About. All of that.”
‘I. Uh-‘ Neil’s head snapped up to look at David, tearing his eyes away from the dark coffee in the mug. Although he was the one naked, it was David who had been stripped last night, broken apart and showing all that he was, letting out the things that he’d held in for so long. It wasn’t the first time that Neil had come across a drunken David Harris, and he was sure that it wasn’t going to be the last. Neil was very partial to parties, but, there were some that he attended (well, Annalie had made him do so, it wasn’t of his own accord,) and it had been too many times that he’d seen David completely and utterly drunk, a girl on his arm.
Frequently, he saw the two disappear together. Such was the way of the world and its assholery.
‘I’m sorry. About. All of that.’ Neil shrugged and drank the last of his coffee. Damn, “It’s- fine.” he said, letting out the last syllable with a terse sigh and an ever more terse tone. Alright. That was rude, he thought, sighing again and keeping his eyes on the David before him, ashamed enough to feel as if he had to apologise to him.
There was a first time for everything. “Shit happens,” he mumbled, looking down into the empty mug of coffee, mulling over the consequences of reminding David what exactly it was that he knew now. He swallowed and held out the mug, a silent request for another mugful- as he was not going to voice the fact that he thought it completely perfect and- well fuck, it certainly surpassed his penchant for Starbucks.
“What-” he paused and stopped himself, nodding, right. Simple. Ask. “What is it that you remember. From last night- I mean.” His voice didn’t really make the words sound like a question, more like a random thought, but it was an inquiry either way. “After Amanda’s place,” even saying the woman’s name left a bad taste in his mouth— or perhaps that was just morning breath?
Of course it wasn’t fine and the tension in Neil’s voice spoke volumes as to how it was most certainly not okay. He felt the threat of bile rise up in his throat and he wondered if the intense amount of shame he felt were to blame of if it were the excruciating hangover he was battling. His jaw clenched and he fought it down and grimaced at his coffee. Maybe dousing his stomach that early was a bad idea. The hand gripping the mug lowered just as Neil’s arm shot out. A smirk quirked up the side of his mouth and he reached out, grabbing the mug from his hand, turning to head back to the small kitchenette.
His own mug was emptied of the rest of it’s contents— the liquid swirled down the sink, disappearing down the drain- when Neil spoke again. ‘What is it that you remember. From last night- I mean.’ He paused slightly before setting the mug down in the sink with a slight clink. Turning towards the coffee pot, he let the cogs and wheels in his mind chug and turn. He remembered plenty. However, the memories were fragmented— nothing but bits and pieces that didn’t flow. Quite frustrating, really— the one time he should remember the night before and he can’t manage to muster up more than fragments.
One tablespoon of sugar. Three fourths of the cup filled with coffee- one fourth milk. Stir. What happened after Amanda’s? Walking. He remembered that. More falling than walking. He turned to face Neil, his brow furrowed, deep in thought. He ended up in the theatre. How was a complete mystery— there was no way in hell that Neil had let him back in with how smashed he had been. But he had been in there and— then he had cried. It was somewhat mortifying that he had fallen to pieces in front of Neil. But, at the same time, it was strangely comforting that out of all the people to fall apart in front of, it was Neil. Neil had seen him, Neil knew him.
It was with that thought that a jolt ran through Dave. Neil- Neil knew. He knew about Jason. His mind scrambled— how did he know? Had Dave flat out told him in his drunken stupidity that he had killed one of his best friends? No. No, not even as far gone as he had been would he have done something as stupid as that. But as he handed Neil the refilled cup of coffee, raising his gaze to meet the others, he was positive that Neil knew. He swallowed, taking a few steps back and setting on the floor, “I remember. Most. I think.” He looked around the small apartment, “I don’t remember coming here. But-” he paused, biting on the inside of his cheek, “I remember. Before. I think.”
Neil gingerly took the refilled mug of coffee and inhaled its strong scent. His body let out a shuddering, soft, very content sigh and he sipped at it slowly, unlike how he had quickly swallowed the first cup. He kept his eyes on David, watching him step back and sit himself on the floor. ‘I remember. Most. I think’ David nervously glanced around the apartment, and Neil’s eye twitched a little. Who was he to judge his living space. He did the best with what he could- and living space in New York City was expensive as all hell.
‘I don’t remember coming here. But-‘ he stopped, and Neil tilted his head off to the side, ‘I remember. Before. I think.’ Is this how things were frequently being David? The constant uncertainty of nights prior, unsure if one had genuinely fucked the girl well or not at all, or if one became a blubbering fool? How was that desirable?
“Right. Before.” He nodded slowly and took a long sip, keeping back the satisfied noise that wanted to come out of his throat. “You- since you-” Neil sighed and placed the mug between his legs on the bed, tugging up the blankets a little more, just in case. “Told me. About. Well, not in so many words. But.” Words were failing him at that moment, and how else was Neil supposed to communicate? He wasn’t one to touch, wasn’t one for emotions, wasn’t one for anything except cutting words and off-putting phrases.
He ran a lazy finger around the edge of the mug, letting it go round and round and round before he cleared his throat and sat up, taking the mug in his left hand and taking a long swig out of it, “The whole. The accident. You, in- you spoke about it. A bit. Yeah.” He raised his eyebrows, staring down at his drink and breathing slowly.
‘The whole. The accident. You, in- you spoke about it. A bit. Yeah.’
He spoke about it. His face paled slightly and his jaw clenched. Damn him. Damn him and his drunken ass. Damn him and his drunken mouth that apparently ran a hundred miles per hour, spilling out everything under the sun. The thought of his drinking to be the thing to blame- and maybe I should get that looked at or at least an experts opinion on what I should- ran across his mind; but the thought was fleeting, quickly squashed by the over powering sound of denial. I don’t have a problem. If I did I can still handle it on my own. It’s not a big deal. I can handle it.
But there was still the problem with Neil knowing. Or was it really a problem? Neil wasn’t a part of his immediate group of friends. He hadn’t known Jason. He was just a stranger that had died to Neil— there was no emotional attachment and that was the reason he didn’t look at Dave like he was the scum of the Earth. Had he known Jason, things would be different. But since he didn’t, it was like Dave had someone who wasreally in his corner. Sure, Tommy was— but Tommy had known Jason. Neil just knew Dave and apparently knew him well enough to give some sort of shit. Even with Neil telling him at least once a day what a complete fuckass he was, he was still the one who had picked his drunken ass off the floor and carried him to his home and— and he was the one who knew what Dave had done and nothing had changed.
That didn’t stop him from shaking though. It started out as a small tremble when Neil first spoke. But as he continued to let his thoughts run wild, the more he shook— something like fear and self-loathing causing his body to shake. “I- It was an accident-” No matter how many times he told himself or heard it said that accidents happen it did nothing to help ease the guilt on his conscience. But, saying it to Neil felt more like a justification, “I mean- I- Neil, you’re left handed?” He focused on the first thing that was not about him, eyes focusing on the coffee mug in Neil’s hand, “I n-never knew you were left handed.” Fuck this shaking.
It was the silence before David’s words that spoke volumes. Everything that had happened the night before was completely and utterly true. The accident while he was on the roadtrip had happened, and that’s why David had been so short with him over the phone that one night. That was why rehearsal had been missed and that was why David was right there before him, standing in his apartment, completely stripped of the armor that was the steady flow of alcohol entering his body and muddling his perception of the world.
He felt his heart lurch a little, knowing how it felt to feel guilty for the deaths of others. Too many times had he tossed and turned in his own bed, thinking himself the cause of his father’s death, and knowing that he was the cause of his sister’s way back when, when he was a child. An accident— just like David’s case.
‘I- it was an accident.’ Neil nodded slowly and drank up the coffee quickly, as if it were a shot of alcohol. He looked to David, eyes wide and without judgement of any sort. ‘I mean- I- Neil, you’re left handed?’ Neil let out a breathy, low laugh at the vain attempt to change the subject and merely, nodded, ‘I n-never knew you were left handed,’ Neil could see David shaking, and he frowned, feeling his heart lurch in a very bizarre manner—
Emotions were never Neil’s forte.
He secured the blanket around his waist and stood up across from David, saying his name slowly and softly, the way his mother had to him after his father passed away. “David,” he said, licking his lips and closing his eyes for just a moment, walking over to him and putting his coffee aside on the small table that was missing a leg, “Look,” he breathed in slowly, nearing David, “Shit- shit happens.” Neil locked eyes with David and smiled slightly, then huffed, “This shit- it happens. It does, and it fucking sucks, believe me,” he chewed on the inside of his cheek and took another step towards the blonde, “We’ve got to- gotta get over all this bullshit.” God, what was he even fucking saying? “I can- I can promise you that that friend of yours? Jason? Yeah- it doesn’t matter where he is, but I know that he isn’t holding this against you.”
Neil’s arms enclosed around David firmly, and Neil knows it’s awkward. He’s never been one for such comforting physical contact, but he knew all too well that David was. “You’ve got to stop- destroying yourself over this.” Neil tucks his face into David’s neck, arms tightening around his favourite light tech. His friend.
He wouldn’t say it out loud, oh no. But- David was his friend. He was his friend and he cared. Maybe. Just a little.
The bed creaked and there was a small shuffle and Dave looked up, biting hard on the inside of his cheek to see Neil stand, the blanket slung low across the thin hips but held tightly in a fist. His cheeks burned softly and he looked back down, pulling himself to standing, a hand running through his hair. He should leave. He should leave— go back to Will’s or-or Tommy’s or anywhere he could go to escape that lookNeil was giving him. His eyes were glued on the floor, refusing to lift because the second he did, Neil and his damnable big, blue eyes would find him and he would see pity and understanding and concern and it didn’t seem right that Neil should feel all of that for him.
God, it wasn’t fair how soft and gentle Neil’s voice had dropped when he said his name. It wasn’t fair— he was so used to hearing his name spoken only in irritation or exasperation and sometimes- those times that were few and far between- with pleasant surprise. But it was never soft and gentle and soothing and— honestly, Dave hadn’t thought Neil capable of saying his name or anything like that. He lifted his head to say so in a feeble attempt to lighten the already so heavy mood when his eyes locked with Neil’s- clear blue orbs staring back into his own- taking note of the small, reassuring smile that lifted up the corners of Neil’s mouth. And that’s just what it was— reassuring.
‘This shit- it happens. It does, and it fucking sucks, believe me.’
A short laugh left Dave at the words. It did suck— it fucking sucked not seeing Jason every day anymore. It fucking sucked always having a reminder that Jason was gone in William. And it fucking sucked knowing that it was his fault. ‘We’ve got to- gotta get over all this bullshit.’ He didn’t know if Neil had meant to say ‘we’. But hearing it was more of an affirmation that he was not alone and a surge of gratitude welled up in his chest for Neil.
‘I can- I can promise you that that friend of yours? Jason? Yeah- it doesn’t matter where he is, but I know that he isn’t holding this against you.’
Wherever he was. Whether it was the big Something that William believed in or Heaven or Paradise or whatever. He wasn’t so sure about that though. If someone had hit me with a van, I’d be pretty pissed for a long time, he thought to himself, answering Neil with the slightest shrug of his shoulders. He looked back up, mouth opening to speak— to thank him for understanding or at least trying to and when did Neil get so close to him? He didn’t have time to so much as squeak before Neil’s arms were around him. He tensed slightly from the initial contact before letting his limbs relax from being stiff at his sides. Neil’s breath was warm against his neck and Dave was more then surprised at how he buried his face in the crook of his shoulder.
‘You’ve got to stop- destroying yourself over this.’
He swallowed hard, his arms moving on their own accord to wrap themselves around Neil’s frame. His own face found it’s way into the crook of Neil’s shoulder and a shuddery sigh left him, the comforting feeling of another person’s touch easing the trembling. Neil was right- he was. But, Dave couldn’t stop but feel like he deserved to be destroyed by his own hand— after all, Jason had been. And Dave was not half as good as Jason. Neil’s skin was warm against the skin of his face and when he breathed, Neil’s scent filled his nose. It was the first time he had been close enough to smell him like this- it wasn’t an entirely unpleasant smell. In the three years he had known Neil, this was probably the most physical contact they had engaged in— apart from a few limit testing acting classes. He liked it.
He nodded and sighed, “I know.” Because the truth of the matter was that he did. But he just wasn’t sure he could stop. Silence fell between them as they stood there, arms around each other— one comforting and the other all but clinging to him. Dave realized with a small jolt that- that he liked this Neil. This one that wasn’t loud voices and insults and tyranny- this one that was soft and comforting and reassuring. But then again, this wouldn’t be Neil without the other half. Alright. So maybe he liked both Neil’s- maybe he liked Neil being there. It wasn’t that bad when it was like this- quiet with warm arms around him and the gentle, steady breathing. Maybe—
His thoughts were cut short by the feeling of the fabric of the blanket lightly sliding down his legs.
Neil’s arms were looped around David’s body and he relaxed against the warmth coming from it. With his face tucked into his neck and the heat radiating from David’s body, David’s quivering seeming as if it were slowing down and- coming to a stop. Neil was helping- however out there that was, Neil was helping and maybe David was feeling… feeling better.
And that was good. It was more than just good. Although the old David drove him batshit crazy insane, he missed him. David just… Wasn’t the same. And, for Neil to actually notice that? That was a big thing. Neil hardly noticed anything about anyone, perhaps a haircut or two would maybe cause a tiny buzzer to go off in his head, but otherwise? No. There were few people that Neil concerned himself with in his life: Derek, Annalie, his mother— and now David.
That list seemed to be getting a little too long.
He closed his arms a little tighter around David, wanting to show him that he was thereand that he still wanted him despite the horrible accident that had occurred. David hadn’t done it on purpose, no, not at all- but even so. Neil didn’t want David utterly breaking down his whole life, tearing all the connections down because of an accident. He had done the same in high school, doing all that he could to feel completely and utterly numbafter his father’s death— doing anything that he could to stop the raw emotions and the patronising words and the promise of a tomorrow—
‘I know.’ And that felt like enough to Neil. David was admitting it. He was. There was a problem and he sure as hell needed help. There was a big problem. David was wrecking his life in a way that, Neil knew, if not stopped— could… Kill him. “Please,” he said softly, words slowly drifting out of his lips and breath leaving him in languid puffs along his neck. “Just. Please.” You’re my friend, his mind said, you’re my friend and I don’twant to lose you. “David, you’re—”
Suddenly things felt very cold around his body and he the feeling of fabric running down his legs was the only thing he could focus on. Neil tensed up and hissed out a string of profanities, not moving to do anything, much too in complete and utter shock. “Fuck. Fucking hell. Fucking shit on a fucking stick that’s on fucking fire in Hell inside of some nasty old cunt.” His breathing was heavy and- this was all his fault really, god damnsince when were blankets reliable.
“Don’t fucking- look.” He said, crouching downwards and glaring up at David, grabbing the blanket and tugging it around his waist once more. Neil grumbled and refused to come up, staring at the floor and psychoanalysing everything that had just occurred. Fuck. Fucking fuck. “Shit,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose and looking up at David, “Could you fucking not?”
At first he thought maybe he had imagined it. A trick of the blanket moving against him as Neil held him closer. Surely it didn’t actually fall. But, both of Neil’s arms were firmly around his neck— the thought pulled color to his cheeks- so what could possibly be holding up the thin sheet around the slender hips? Why am I thinking about Neil’s hips? Stop that.Although, this really was the most difficult of positions not to think about someone’s hips when that someone was pressed against you and the only covering they had is now ‘round their ankles.
The string of curses that flew so effortlessly from Neil’s mouth could’ve made a sailor blush and Dave couldn’t help but smirk appreciatively, his eyes staring up at the ceiling. But Neil made no motion to move and Dave- Dave wasn’t sure what that exactly meant. If it meant anything. What am I supposed to do with my hands? His arms had wrapped around Neil’s waist earlier and now- well, now what was he supposed to do with them? He couldn’t rightly just leave them there when Neil was just standing there bare-ass, could he? His arms lifted slightly above him and his eyes were focused on one spot on the ceiling while Neil grumbled, the warmth of his body leaving Dave’s.
Well, of course his first reaction is going to be to look. His eyes flickered down, catching the briefest glimpse of exposed legs and the curve of Neil’s spine before the sheet was tugged back around his middle. The dark head tilted back, blue eyes glaring up at him- well, really Neil, how am I supposed to not look- and Dave couldn’t stop the thought that ran through his mind, causing heat to rise on his cheeks. Damn. You look good down there. No. No, he was not supposed to think of that- of those fucking blue eyes staring up at him while those lips that were pulled down in a frown wrapped around his—
He jumped from the tone and the words, “What- not what? I wasn’t doing anything.” Not unless Neil could read minds. In that case, no of coursehe wasn’t wondering what was under that sheet or thinking about how Neil might taste. Certainly not. He rocked slightly on his heels before taking a step back away Neil, a hand flying to run through his hair, “So- uh. Yeah. Good talk.” Good talk? Really? Well, what else was there really to say now that the moment was broken— and by thoughts of Neil sucking him off to make things worse. Man. He needed to think.
‘What- not what? I wasn’t doing anything.’ Neil’s cheeks burned and he looked down at the floor, cheeks tinted utterly red. That was not how he had wanted things to go. That was what he got for trying to be kind in any sort of way. That was why he was rude—
Because otherwise he would end up naked with whoever he was nice to. Fucking hell.
He licked his lips, thinking of something to say while staring at the somewhat dirty carpet beneath them. Alright. So. He’d been kind. He’d been the shoulder to cry on and the strong, supportive… friend… sort of thing. And- he’d ended up naked right before David. “Fuck. This is why. This is exactly why I’m not nice. This is why. This is why,” he muttered under his breath, closing his eyes tightly and feeling his head throb.
‘So- uh. Yeah. Good talk.’
Neil rolled his eyes and looked back up at David, expression utterly annoyed. He stood, body much too close for Neil’s comfort, and took a step back, running a hand through his hair and trying to play off the redness of his cheeks rather coolly, “Yeah. Good. Good talk.” He cleared his throat and swallowed, “You’re- you’re fucking welcome for that shit.” Neil secured the blanket around his waist, gulping again and trying to calm himself down.Things were fine. Not awkward at all.
“You need to- shower. You smell like shit,” he looked to David with pursed lips, “Fuckin’ disgusting,” Neil’s nose scrunched up and he leant forward to sniff at David, “Ugh. Shower. Now.”
‘Fuck. This is why. This is exactly why I’m not nice. This is why. This is why.’
Before Dave could even think about the words that were about to come from his mouth, they tumbled forth, “Do you usually end up naked with people you’re nice to?” The words seem to hang in the air for a moment before Dave cleared his throat and, “So- uh. Yeah. Good talk.” He was really going to have to invest in a filter for the space between his brain and his mouth because the one he had was obviously out of order.
You’re- you’re fucking welcome for that shit.’
Leave it to Neil. His mouth pulled up in a slight smirk, watching Neil’s nose crinkle and his lips purse. ‘You need to- shower. You smell like shit.’ Oh, that’s exactly what one wanted to hear after waking up in an unfamiliar apartment with someone who could barely stand them. He looked over at the dark haired boy, the skin around his eyes softening slightly; or someone who could maybe stand all of him, if only a little bit.
A laugh escaped him and he ran a hand through his hair, “Alright, alright- Jesus, don’t get your panties- well, I don’t s’pose you could get those in a bunch, now could you, Neil?” He moved quickly away in case Neil decided to shoot a leg out to kick him and shook his head, “Alright- I’m kidding, Jesus. Bathroom? I’ll wash the stink off of me.” Although to be perfectly honest, he didn’t think he smelled that badly. Just. A bit like the inside of a bar.
‘Alright, alright- Jesus, don’t get your panties- well, I don’t s’pose you could get those in a bunch, now could you, Neil?’ All consuming rage coursed through Neil and he shot an intense glare towards David. “Excuse me?” He said, voice almost comically shrill and right eye twitching slightly. “Go. Out. Shower. Now.” The urge to punch David in the gut grew and he turned away, raising his free hand to his forehead and massaging at it as it throbbed with the beginnings of a headache.
‘Alright- I’m kidding, Jesus. Bathroom? I’ll wash the stick off of me.’
Neil sighed, turning to him again and smirking, “Please. Do.” He shook his head and walked over to the bathroom, stepping over the organised mess of things cluttering the floor. He opened the door to the tiny bathroom, “Just-” he gave David a queasy and uncertain look, not wanting to be judged for his lack of organisation everywhere that wasn’t the theatre.
“Towels under the sink. Soap in the- bottle. Thing. And—” he shrugged, “That’s. About it. Yeah.” Neil smacked his lips and ran a hand through his hair, letting out a sigh and stepping out of the way. “We can- go for. Breakfast or something. Afterwards.” He shrugged, going back to his bed and pulling his laptop from under the bed, “Your treat, though, so.” He shot David a smile, “I did more or less take you in for the night,”
