Work Text:
As soon as the beer hit his throat Shawn knew he’d fucked up.
He was numb, too numb. He’d left Kevin at home under the pretense of ‘shopping’, but he went straight to the liquor aisle, picking up whatever had the highest alcohol content. He didn’t care; he just needed to feel something other than the sinking emptiness in his stomach.
He pushed past Kevin and locked himself in a bathroom as he opened the bottle with shaky hands. He brought it to his mouth, willing himself to take a drink, but his hands wouldn’t move.
You already have it, you might as well drink it. One beer won’t hurt.
Kevin’s in the next room. Just call for him and put the bottle down.
He’s gonna be pissed. He’s always pissed off at you.
Shawn put the bottle to his lips and poured it in, drinking it as fast as he could. The faster it goes in the faster it’ll work, Shawn thought, setting the empty bottle down and grabbing another before a soft knock interrupted him.
“Shawn? You seemed upset, are you alright baby?”
Shawn almost dropped the beer in his hand at the sound of Kevin’s voice. “Fuck,” he muttered. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
“Shawn?” Kevin’s voice was laced with suspicion. “What are you doing?”
“Uh,” Shawn looked around frantically, wide-eyed as he tried to come up with an acceptable excuse. He heard the doorknob turn, and realized with a jolt of horror that he’d forgotten to lock the door.
“Are you alr-” Kevin stopped dead in his tracks as he took in the sight of his boyfriend. His eyes softened. “Oh Shawn,” Kevin cooed gently as Shawn set the beer down, “why didn’t you come get me?”
“I’m fine,” Shawn hissed. “I can do this myself.”
“Clearly not,” Kevin shot back. “Come here.”
“No.”
Kevin’s eyebrows raised as Shawn stood up. “No? You’re drinking on the toilet at 5 at night and you don’t think you need my help?” Shawn rolled his shoulders back, assessing his boyfriend. Kevin sighed. “I don’t want to fight with you. Not again.”
Shawn deflated. “I know. I don’t like fighting with you either, but I have to do this myself. What kind of man am I if I can’t even stop fucking drinking!” Shawn was pissed at himself. He hated being so weak that he couldn’t resist the urge. “Fuck, Kev, I hate myself! I can’t do anything right!”
“No, no, hey,” Kevin moved closer to his frantic boyfriend, putting his hands up as if he were dealing with a wild animal. “You can do a lot of things. This is just a hurdle you have to get through, and it’s not something you can do alone.”
“But-”
“Why do you think there are AA meetings?” Kevin interrupted. “Therapy? Meds you can take? Everyone needs help. It doesn’t make you less of a person to ask for it.”
“Yes it does,” Shawn retorted. “Getting help means nothing if I can’t go the rest of the way!”
“How do you know if you haven’t even tried?” Kevin asked, exasperated. “Doesn’t Vince offer rehab? You need a professional, Shawn. I’ll always support you, and I know you can get sober, but not like this.”
Shawn sucked in a breath, ready to argue that he was the only person he needed, then paused, taking in Kevin’s appearance. He looked tired, absolutely exhausted to his bones. It was a feeling Shawn knew well, and he knew that he was the reason behind it. He wanted Kevin to be happy, and he wasn’t, and it was his fault. If the rehab didn’t work, and he was sure it wouldn’t, he was beyond hope, and there would be no reason for him to stay with Kevin and drag him down as well.
He slowly nodded, exhaling the tension in his shoulders. “Yeah.”
“Yeah?” Kevin repeated, tilting his head with a hopeful look in his eyes.
“Yeah. I’ll call him.”