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Hatori has gotten himself in the middle of Ayame and Sigure’s mess once again.
He really should expect this by now.
“ Hi ,” It’s Shigure’s voice even though the call had come from Ayame’s phone, but it is quickly explained. “ my phone’s dead... ” He mutters something else, but it’s drowned out by the steady thump of music and distant chatter in the background of the call. Hatori is already grabbing his keys, tucking his phone under his ear to sit down and slip on his shoes.
“How drunk are you?” He asks, checking his pocket to make sure he has his wallet on him.
“ Right to it! ” Shigure laughs, somewhat uncomfortably, and Hatori quickly stomps out the worry on his mind. What did they do ?
Hatori sighs. “How drunk is Ayame?” He locks his apartment door behind him, the early summer warmth making goosebumps rise on his arms at the change in temperature.
“ Uh, one second, ” Hatori hears Shigure yell something unidentifiable across the line after three rapt knocks on a door. There’s more shifting on the phone, and the background noise muffles. “ He’s laying on the bathroom floor right now. He won’t stop crying for you. ”
Hatori rolls his eyes, there it is, and nods to one of his neighbors entering the stairwell as he exits. “Where are you?”
Shigure laughs again. “ I’m not sure. ”
“Send me your location,” Hatori tells Shigure, his annoyance slowly dissipating into concern. Ayame, surprisingly, can handle his alcohol. He’s not sure how much he went overboard to be in that state. Sliding into the driver's seat, he puts his phone on speaker and sets it on the dock.
“ Uh, you see ,” Shigure starts to explain, but the line falls muffled again. “ Ayame, stop, ” Hatori hears. “ his phone is locked and he won’t tell me the password-- ”
“Six-nine-six-nine,” Hatori cringes as he says it out loud, but he’s not surprised when Shigure giggles over the line.
“ Of course ,” He tries to say something else before Hatori cuts him off.
“Send me your location. I will be there.”
--
Hatori feels out of place shuffling through a strangers house, even though no one seems to notice him. The pulse of the music is strong, the smell of weed and alcohol is stronger. It’s a setting that Hatori doesn’t find himself in often, or even really like, but of course, term just ended and Shigure and Ayame had to blow off steam in their own destructive manor.
The line outside of the second story bathroom lets him know he’s in the right place. He gets a couple of dirty looks as he excuses himself to the front, and lets himself in.
Ayame is slumped against the wall, head lolling to one side, Shigure facing him on his knees. They both perk at Hatori’s entrance, Shigure turning around to meet him.
“Oh thank God,” Shigure slurs, standing up, and immediately losing his balance. Hatori steadies him, hands on his shoulders, Shigure reaching to grasp his wrists. “thank you, thank you, thank you,” He mumbles, dropping his grip to pull Hatori into a hug. “life saver,” he sighs, gripping Hatori tighter. Hatori reciprocates, because really, there’s no way he could pull away from it. He looks over Shigure’s shoulder down at Ayame.
“Hatori,” Ayame moans from the floor, looking up at him like he’s strung all the stars in the sky. His face is streaked with tears, eyes glassy and red. “I’m s’sorry, I’m sorry,” he blubbers, head falling to the other side as he begins to cry again. It’s so genuine, it almost makes Hatori feel like there’s something that Ayame needs to be apologizing for.
Hatori sighs. He kneels down onto the floor, tucks Ayame’s messy white hair behind his ear, and wipes at Ayame’s tears. “It’s okay.” He tells him, but Ayame lamely slaps away his hand.
“It’s not!” He cries, head falling the other way. “I m-made you come all the way here! I’m so sorry, ” He hiccups, and covers his mouth with his hand. “and the whole worlds s- spinning ,”
“Has he puked?” Hatori turns to Shigure, who shakes his head. He turns back to crying Ayame, and lays his hand across his head to feel for a fever. “Ayame,” he says, and Ayame sniffs, choking on a sob. “It’s okay. Do you wanna go home?”
He nods, dissolving into tears once again. “the light is too bright , oh m’ God , everythin’s moving Hatori ,”
“I know,” he says, “I know. Shigure, make sure I don't drop him,”
“Yessir!” Shigure mock salutes, and Hatori rolls his eyes. He watches as Hatori scoops Ayame into his arms. Ayame groans into his ear, and Hatori feels his tear wet cheeks slick his own as Ayame tucks his face into his neck. He grips under Ayame’s thighs, and Shigure thankfully helps by making sure Ayame has wrapped his arms around the back of Hatori’s neck.
“I’m sorry,” Ayame says, again, and Hatori feels his splayed fingers flex on the nape of his neck. “I love you so sososo so much,” Hatori fights off the blush that threatens to break out across his cheeks at Ayame’s words, and remembers that he’s just extremely drunk and extremely emotional.
As they step out of the bathroom, Shigure apologizes to everyone waiting, and stumbles over himself to keep up with Hatori. They make it down the stairs, and out the door relatively easy. Shigure slides into the back seat, and Hatori helps lay Ayame down on his lap. “Please don’t vomit on the leather.” Hatori says, and Ayame just groans in response, eyes closed shut, gripping onto Shigure’s thigh.
As he ducks out of the car, Shigure catches his arm. “I’m sorry,” he says, genuine and guilty. “I should have watched him better.”
Hatori blinks at him. “I’m just glad you’re both safe.” He tells Shigure, honestly, and shuts the car door.
--
Ayame is dead asleep by the time they make it back to Hatori’s apartment.
It’s a team effort to wake him up enough to get him out of the back seat, Shigure going as far as giving him a wet-willy, something he can’t stand even in his most inebriated state. “Fuck you,” He grumbles, no bite in his voice, all despair.
“You’re going to make him start crying again,” Hatori says, but he’s thankful that he’s able to pull Ayame into his arms once again.
Shigure laughs, and shuts the car door behind him.
When they get upstairs, he lays Ayame down on his bed, and unlaces his shoes and pulls them off, Shigure already slipping into the shower to wash the smell of beer and weed off of himself. Unfortunately, Ayame is in no state to do the same. “Can I undress you?” Hatori asks, and Ayame grins.
“Sexy,” He mutters, eyes barely slitting open to look up at Hatori.
Hatori sighs, and asks again. “Can I undress you?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Ayame says. “I trust you,”
Hatori flushes as he helps Ayame out of his shirt, and pulls his jeans down his legs. There’s nothing sexy about it, but the intimacy is there. He grabs one of his undershirts for Ayame to wear, and fetches a cup of water.
“Sit up?” Hatori tries, settling next to him on the bed, and Ayame listens. He holds the glass to Ayame’s lips, and Ayame drinks in a small sip, reaching up for the glass himself.
“I love you,” Ayame says, in the silence of Hatori’s bedroom, holding the cup against his chest like it’s something to be treasured. For a moment Hatori listens to the faint sound of the shower shutting off, and the rush of blood in his ears, before Ayame apologizes again. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s really okay,” Hatori says, and swallows hard, the tips of his ears hot. Thankfully, Ayame’s eyes are closed, and he doesn’t notice. However, Shigure standing in the doorway, does. His hair is damp and his skin is pink with heat, wearing only his boxers. He comes up behind Hatori, and kisses the shell of his ear. Hatori shivers, and Shigure snickers.
“Very sweet,” Shigure says, and Hatori kills his bashfulness; buries it deep.
“Shut up,” Hatori mutters, before Shigure catches his fingers on Hatori’s jaw, and tilts his head into a chaste kiss. The blush is back.
Hatori’s throat is tight when he swallows and pulls back, Shigure’s satisfied smirk threatening to break into something more tender. He brushes his thumb over Hatori’s cheek, which is warm to the touch. “Very cute,” he murmurs, and Hatori forces himself to stand, Shigure choosing to crawl onto his bed.
They both notice that Ayame is fast asleep once again.
Shigure takes the glass from his grasp and reaches over him to set it on the nightstand. “He is going to be so hungover tomorrow,” He says, fondly, stroking Ayame’s bangs back from his face. He looks back at Hatori, as he shuffles to get under the sheets. “Get changed. I wanna cuddle.”
Hatori rolls his eyes, but is unable to keep the fond smile from his lips.