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A loud knock came from the front of his apartment, Gram already knew who it was. He was surprised the man even bothered to know.
Upon opening the door, he realized Black was very much drunk. He glanced at Gram before stumbling past him and flopped on the couch.
”Black,” He sighed “Please tell me you didn’t drive here.”
“‘Course I fuckin did, how else do you think I got here?” He slurred back. Black’s alcohol tolerance was quite high, so Gram didn’t even want to think about how much he’d drank. Something was obviously wrong with him, but he knew better than to ask about it. Black tended to get extra defensive when he was drunk.
He sighed again, looking over Blacks splayed out form. He headed to the kitchen, grabbing the trash can and some water bottles, placing it next the couch. “Don’t you dare puke on my shit.” He mumbled, grinning when Black made a sour face at him. “I’ll puke on you, bastard.”
He then headed to the bedroom to grab some old blankets for Black, as well as a change of clothes just in case. He draped the blanket over the short man, then moved to take his shoes off, ignoring the protest that came out of him.
Just as he was walking away, Black called out to him. “Get your ass back here.” he turned around to see him attempting to stand back up. “Black, lay down, seriously I don’t want you puking on my stuff again.”
As he tried to lead him back over to the couch, Blacks body went completely limp, only staying upright because of Grams tight grip on his shoulders. He quickly sat him down on the couch as lightly as he could without throwing him, even though he sort of wanted too. He did this so often, showed up during the night hours drunk off his ass (and occasionally, in the clouds). Not that Gram would ever refuse him or turn him away, he cared too much to do that.
”Gram,” Suddenly his strength returned, yanking Gram down on the couch next to him “‘’Fuckin hate you, you know that?” He didn’t take it personally, both of them knew it was a lie.
“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” He asked flatly. Black mumbled a bit before going silent & staring at Gram with an odd expression. He gave a slight smile in return, not really knowing what to do. He almost moved to get up before Black kissed him.
He doesn’t even think it can be considered a kiss, more like smashed the lower part of their faces together. Once he realized what had just happen, he put his hands on Blacks chest and firmly pushed. “What the hell are you doing?” he said in a stuttered out. “Kissing you,” Black replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
He attempted to lean back in, but Gram stiffly got up. “You’re drunk off your ass, Black. Get some sleep.”
He ignored the boys calls after him while he quickly walked to his room. He was beyond upset. For years all he wanted was a kiss from him, thinking about it an almost unhealthy amount, but he didn’t want it to be like this. Black was drunk, Black didn’t mean it. Black didn’t kiss him because he loved him, not even because he liked him, he kissed him because he was fucking drunk.
He flopped down on his bed, much like Black had done on his couch earlier, letting out a breathy laugh. What the fuck was he thinking? Of course Black only kissed him because he was drunk, Black didn’t fucking like him. What was he expecting, some fairytale love confession and a kiss that set of fireworks and froze the world around him or whatever? He was pathetic, he knew it.
Black would never mean anything, sober or not.