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It’s the blaring ring of his phone that jerks Oliver from his slumber.
He rolls over and stares at the clock on his bedside table, squinting to read the blurry green lines. It’s after two in the morning, too late, or too early, for anyone to be calling him, but he still sleepily swipes his thumb across his phone to answer.
"Come get your wife!" a voice screams the second they’re connected. "He’s two seconds away from blowing chunks!"
Oliver sits and presses the heel of his palm to his eyes. He doesn’t have a wife, but he recognizes the voice on the other end of the line, so he says, "Where are you?" and tosses his blankets aside. He’s waking quickly, five years worth of practice worrying over a lightweight kicking in.
"I’ll send you the address!"
–
Oliver arrives at his old hangout in record time. He hasn’t been to the bar in months, having lost it in the splitting of a shared life, but it looks the same as it always has–a nondescript brick building with a flickering light outside of it, and a gaggle of drunkards smoking at the steps.
"Thanks for coming." Kunigami leans in through the open passenger window and bumps his fist against Oliver’s shoulder. "Hyoma’s bringing him out now."
"Yeah." Oliver doesn’t know what else to say. Kunigami is, or was, his friend, once upon a time, but lines were drawn in the sand and Kunigami’s loyalty was one more thing Oliver had to lose.
Kunigami, though also drunk judging by the red in his eyes and way he sways when he pulls away from the car, seems to feel the awkwardness of the situation. They can’t joke like they used to. They can’t reminisce on when they would be out together, playing bodyguards and watching their boyfriends dance and laugh. Things are different now, and it feels as if that entire past has been erased.
"Thank fuck!"
Chigiri stumbles from the bar, waving to the patrons puffing on their cigarettes, and slams himself into Aiku’s car. "Aiku, we need your muscles."
"Use your boyfriend’s."
"Aiku." Chigiri tries to open the car door, and whines when he finds it locked. "Ugh, please! He’s not coming out of the bathroom because he’s mad at you for calling me." Chigiri stops and presses his hands to his head. "That’s not right." His eyes dart around while he thinks, and Oliver sighs and shuts his car off.
"I’ll go get him. You two do whatever."
He enters the bar and dodges easily recognizable faces, not wanting to answer questions of where he’s been. The restrooms are in the very back, and he makes a beeline for them, stopping outside the men’s room and taking a deep breath.
He raps his knuckles against the door. "Sendou, c’mon and get out here."
"No!" Oliver hears Sendou sniffling. "You’re mad at me because Chigiri called you!"
"I’m not mad," Oliver tells him. He’s annoyed, absolutely, but it isn’t really Sendou’s fault. Part of Oliver is relieved that he was the one Chigiri called.
"You are!"
They go back and forth for too long. Everyone is vacating the bar, and Oliver doesn’t want to deal with the bartender kicking them out.
"Just say you’re mad and leave!" Sendou shouts. He’s so terribly stubborn and it used to be something Oliver loved, the bickering and making up, but now, it only clenches his jaw.
"I’m mad because you won’t get out here!" Oliver knows he’s made a mistake as soon as his voice is raised. Sendou’s always been the more sensitive of the two, and it’s made even worse with the flow of alcohol. He’s certain of what’s coming, but still knocks his head on the door when he hears Sendou start to whimper. He can picture him, lips red and quivering, fat drops of tears falling from his eyes, and thinks of the way he used to scoop Sendou up in his arms and soothe him, no matter how stupid the reason for his crying.
Now, he wiggles the handle and huffs. "Sendou, let’s go, okay? The bar is closing, and Kunigami and Chigiri already left, so you either leave with me, or you leave with some weirdo." Oliver would never let this happen, but Sendou doesn’t know that, not anymore.
The door pulls open and Oliver is met with the sight of a tear-stained Sendou. He’s in sinfully tight pants, and a mostly unbuttoned shirt. There’s gold necklaces dangling along his chest, and Oliver does his best to ignore the fact that one of the necklaces holds the rings he’d told Sendou to keep after their breakup. It’d been a nasty fight, with Sendou saying he’d sell them because he didn’t need a piece of Oliver anymore. He’d deserved that, but it still hurt.
He’s glad to know Sendou lied.
"Let’s go, my car’s outside." Oliver can’t look at Sendou for long. It’s an unfortunate truth of the universe that Sendou’s the prettiest crier Oliver’s ever seen. His cheeks and nose are painted the rosiest of reds and his lips end up swollen and spit-slicked. His mind will end up in the gutter at a record pace, so he walks ahead of Sendou and gets back to the cool night breeze, sliding into his car before Sendou’s even made it down the steps.
"Your legs are too long." Sendou pouts as Oliver reaches over and buckles him in. It’s too intimate, but Oliver knows Sendou would take ages to do it himself, and he needs to be away from him as soon as he can. The proximity isn’t good for his heart.
"You need to tell me how to get to your place."
Sendou guides him through the streets (only getting lost twice), and when they park outside Sendou’s apartment complex, Oliver unbuckles Sendou without looking at him.
"Have a good night."
There was a time, back in their beginning, when Oliver would walk Sendou to his door and kiss him breathless. He can’t do that anymore, so he just watches as Sendou steps out of the car.
Oliver tells himself that he’ll only wait for Sendou to enter the building. Sendou’s staring straight ahead and not moving, but then he turns back to Oliver. "I can’t make it up these." He motions towards the stairs and then falls to the ground, laughing. "I’m gonna sleep here!"
The universe has to be testing him. He gets out and goes to Sendou, crouching down and holding out his hand. He knows this level of drunk Sendou all too well. They’ve left weepy drunk and entered into bratty drunk territory, and Oliver needs to get Sendou safely locked away before they get to the next level.
"Get up and I’ll carry you."
"No!" Sendou turns away and crosses his arms.
Oliver grips Sendou’s chin and forces him to meet his eyes. "You’re drunk off your ass and lying on the sidewalk. Now let me pick you up, you fucking brat."
It’s enough to shut Sendou up. He moves his head in Oliver’s hand in a nod. Oliver helps him stand and then lets Sendou hop on his back. Sendou’s breath is hot against Oliver’s neck and he practically runs up the stairs. He never should’ve left his bed, but in an utterly devastating realization, he’s still too concerned about Sendou’s wellbeing.
"Which floor?" They’re in the elevator and Sendou really should be standing on his own, but Oliver’s so close to the end that he can’t risk Sendou doing something stupid like trying to run away.
"Fourth."
Sendou hums while the elevator moves, and Oliver is taken back to so many nights like this–taking care of Sendou, so in love that his chest aches with it. The ding signaling their arrival to the fourth floor saves him from his thoughts, and he steps into the hall.
"Alright, which apartment is yours?"
Sendou wiggles on Oliver’s back, taking his shoe off and throwing it down the hall, giggling.
"What the fuck?" Oliver curses and goes to grab the shoe, but as soon as he does, Sendou tosses the other the opposite way.
"Okay, you can get that one." Oliver tries to set Sendou down, but he’s wrapped around Oliver and refuses to let go. "Sendou, let go of me."
"If I do, you’ll leave."
This is what he wanted to avoid.
Sendou’s not crying, or being bratty. He’s hit clingy levels of drunk, and it’s always been Oliver’s weakness when Sendou gets like this, desperate to hold Oliver and keep him close.
Oliver looks to the ceiling and decides to do something he’d sworn once he wouldn’t do. He lies.
"I’ll stay, let’s go to bed."
Sendou finally drops from Oliver’s back and grabs his hand, pulling him to his door. He shakily enters his passcode and then brings Oliver inside. The apartment is small, but it smells like Sendou’s favorite lavender candle and as they make their way into Sendou’s room, Oliver can see all the knick-knacks Sendou’s collected over the years, and the photos of him with friends and family.
There are none of Oliver, but he could never hold that against Sendou.
Sendou doesn’t even bother undressing, bouncing onto his bed and rolling over to make room for Oliver before he crawls beneath the covers. He’s watching Oliver, waiting for him to cuddle up close, and the sight is too familiar.
"I’m going to use the bathroom and then I’ll be in, alright?"
"Hurry."
Oliver’s smile is almost genuine when he nods. The bathroom is full of Sendou’s favorite products, the ones that make him smell like heaven, and Oliver stares at them while he counts to two hundred before he steps back into Sendou’s room.
Sendou’s sleeping, like Oliver knew he would be, and drooling onto his pillow. Oliver remembers a time when it’d be his pillow, and another wave of affection threatens to capsize the fragile boat he’s placed his self-control in.
He really shouldn’t stay. It would be easy, but he shouldn’t. Sendou’s bed looks warm and the idea of waking up with Sendou beside him is tempting, but he shouldn’t.
Every part of him knows it’s a bad idea. Oliver is at the front door, hand on the door knob and ready to leave because as much as he wants to fall right back in love with Sendou, he shouldn’t.
Oliver glances back.