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"Aleksandr."
"Fuck off."
"Aleks," James drawled at length.
Aleks jumped away from James's prying hands and screeched, "Get off!"
"Come on, Aleks, hug me," James demanded, a couple syllables slurred together.
"Get the fuck away from me."
"Ally, Aleks."
Aleks couldn't help letting out a few stunted laughs. "Did you just fucking call me Ally? What the fuck?"
"T'was an accident," James said through mounds of giggles.
Aleks shoved James away and began frantically digging in his pocket for his phone. He quickly navigated to Dexter's number, knowing the guy would be his best bet. He wouldn't miss out on action like this.
"Hey," Dex responded after only a couple rings — thank God.
"Who the fuck? Which fucking one was it?"
"Huh?"
"Whose fucking idea was it to get, get James drunk and send him into my house? My house and home?"
Dex sniggered.
"The fuck, man? I still gotta record tonight! I need to get this game out before it gets like, so that the comment section is just full of people going: 'Everybody else played this a week ago!'"
"What game you playin'?"
"Don't change the subject! Whose idea?"
"Nobody sent him to your damn house, the man wanted to go."
Aleks glared at James, receiving innocent eyes in response. Someone might've called them puppy dog eyes, but Aleks wasn't a goddamn pussy like that.
"And you couldn't tell him not to damn come? Who drove him here?"
"Jordan."
"Fuck Jordan."
"Fuck Jordan," James added into the conversation, still giggling, then mumbled, "Smells like garlic over here."
Aleks sighed and rubbed his hand against his scalp. "How's he gonna get home now, did Jordan think of that?"
"You know what Jordan thought," Dex drawled suggestively.
Aleks hung up on him. "Fucking dicks," he muttered to himself.
James had moved into the kitchen and was neck-deep in the fridge when Aleks turned to look at him. "Eww," he commented on the contents.
"If you're not satisfied, go to your own damn fridge," Aleks told him.
James looked hungrily at a box of Chinese food. "How old's this Chinese?"
"Like two weeks probably."
James shoved the container back. "Ew!"
Aleks sighed. "Please, just, can you go pass out on the couch or something so I can go record?"
James opened his mouth wide in offense. "But I came here to buy...brighten your night, man!"
"Fuck off," Aleks stated, then walked out.
***
At 4 AM, once he'd gotten a couple of hours of gameplay down, Aleks got up from his desk, went to brush his teeth, inspected his sparse moustache in the mirror, trudged into his bedroom, dropped his pants, fell into his bed, rolled a bit, and hit a lump.
"The fuck, James," Aleks griped fairly quietly, too tired to make a big scene.
A groan from the lump.
"This is my bed. My fucking bed. I have a goddamn couch for this shit. Use it or get out of my house."
"You gonna throw me out in the middle of the night?" James whined.
"Oh my God. Just. I want to sleep."
James's dark eyes glinted so that Aleks knew he was looking at him. "I'm comfortable, right. Just sleep next to me. No biggy."
"If you fucking touch me..."
"I'm drunk, it's not my fault." James's arm flopped heavily onto Aleks's side and rested there.
"Dude."
"Yeah?"
James's eyes looked sharp in the dark, and even though all Aleks could really see were his eyes and nose, his face was way too close. Aleks lost the energy to fight about it. James would just start wrestling him or something, and then he'd end up in a worse place.
"I have one pillow," Aleks mumbled, and even he recognized that it sounded a lot like defeat.
"I'll give it to you."
"It's not yours in the first...fucking...place. Dick."
"I'm on it right now, though. And now I don't wanna give it to you anymore."
"I'm still prepared to throw you the fuck out."
"You won't." James's hand found a place to nestle into on Aleks's back, and it felt heated.
Aleks lowered his head so he didn't have to see the other man's eyes. "I'm not cool with this, James."
"Move away then."
"Are you even drunk anymore?"
"I am."
"Like hell you are."
"We don't gotta talk about it if you don't want to." James's breath felt heavy now.
"I don't wanna just, like...I don't wanna do that. It'd be awkward and I'd... I mean, if that's even...fuck."
"It's okay. We're talking about the same thing," James assured him.
Aleks took a deep breath and it shook just slightly. "Well, I don't wanna not talk about it."
"Just say you like me then."
"Like fuck."
"I'm the one that's drunk, so I gotta say it?"
"I don't know."
"Say it then. Do you like-like me, Aleks?"
"Oh my God, you fucking dick," Aleks laughed, breaking the quietness of their whispers.
A nose bumped against his, and soft lips brushed against his smile-stretched ones.
"You're gonna be fucking dick," James told him.
Aleks slapped him in the face, but half-missed in the pitch black.
"Ow!"
***
"I wanna fuck you but I can't get it up 'cause I'm still drunk. I totally could otherwise though."
"Yeah, yeah."
"You're hot."
"That's really cool to know."
"We can do it in the mornin'," James murmured, grabbing tightly onto Aleks's waist and resting his head against the boy's neck. Aleks got a waft of his scent from the head of hair rubbing against his cheek — alcohol mixed with James's ever-present musk.
"You stink."
"You've said before that I smell good," James sang happily.
"Not when you're drunk off your ass."
"I'll shower in the morning. ...Wait, we can do it in the shower!"
"Who the fuck do you think I am?"
"A classy boy," James admitted apologetically.
"Damn right. Man, though."
"But the shower's kinda classy, isn't it?"
"You...you are literally the least classy person I've ever met."
After a quiet pause, Aleks turned to look James in the eye and exclaimed, "Wait, who the fuck even said we were gonna do it?!"