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The party was loud— the bass of the music reverberating in Till’s ears. It was way too hot on set, he felt like he was sweating his ass off. Till shrugged his jacket off his shoulders, tossing it over the back of the couch in Mizi’s living room.
Alien Stage had just wrapped up production, the last episode airing that night. Mizi thought it would be a great idea to invite the whole crew to her house for a watch party—which quickly devolved into chaos. Red solo cups were scattered across Mizi’s floor, but she didn’t seem to care as she downed another cup.
Till didn’t like these kinds of parties. The scent of cheap beer made him gag, and the taste of it made him want to throw up. He was under the impression that this was going to be a chill watch party, and they could all celebrate together. Without having half of the crew passed out on the floor.
He hung out in the corner of the kitchen, only occasionally bothered by Hyuna stumbling her way to the fridge for more beer, which he would quickly snatch out of her hands. She was wasted enough. He leaned against the counter, staring down into his half empty cup, staring back at his reflection in the beer.
A loud thud caused Till to flinch, immediately making his presence known in the living room. When he saw the cause of the noise, he almost dropped his cup.
You had fallen over, having tripped over something—whether it was the corner of the coffee table or someone’s foot. You cradled your head as your face twisted in pain, and Till took a step forward, extending his hands towards yours—
Only to be beat to it by Ivan. Ivan knelt down beside you, cradling your head checking for any open wounds or bumps. Till’s jaw clenched.
You and Ivan had become pretty close during the production of Alien Stage, become good friends and hanging out together regularly on set. Almost as much as you hung out with Till.
Till didn’t want to call it jealousy. Ivan had every right to be there for you. He was your friend too. But Till wanted it to be him. He wanted to be the one to pick you up, to sit you down the couch and have you rest against him—just like Ivan was doing.
He didn’t know how long he stared at you two on the couch. The music seemed to dull as he zoned out, thinking about how it go if it was him taking care of you right now. He didn’t even have a reason to take Ivan’s place. Besides himself, Ivan was the only one here almost completely sober.
A voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
“Till, can you stay with (Y/N) for a second? I gotta run to the bathroom. Don’t want them running away.” He joked.
Till’s head immediately perked up. In just a couple long strides he closed up the distance between him and the couch, immediately sitting beside you and wrapping his arm around your shoulder as nonchalantly as he could, the smug grin on his face betraying him and revealing his excitement.
“Yeah, I got ‘em.” He glanced at you.
Ivan stood up from the couch and headed towards the bathroom, leaving the two of you on the couch. Till leaned back on the couch, getting comfy as you leaned against him. He tilted his head.
“You doing okay? You took quite the tumble.”
Your head slowly moved against his shoulder, managing to look up at him with droopy eyes. The fall had knocked the wind out of you, causing your tipsy self to knocked even more off kilter.
“‘M okay. Head hurts.” You mumbled into his shoulder.
“I’m sure it does.” He chuckled, his shoulders jerking from the movement. Your head jostled as his shoulders moved, causing you to elicit a couple whimpers and whines in discomfort. Your head hurt like hell.
“Oh, sorry.” Till’s free arm crossed over his body, his hand quickly cradling your head, stilling your head and trying to keep you as still as possible. He looked down at you, eyebrows furrowed. He was worried. You’d be fine, yeah, but right now you looked so…out of it. The fall had obviously messed with your drunken brain a little, and he wanted to make sure you were okay.
“Is your head okay? I didn’t mean to shake you like that.” He asked softly, eyes trained intently on you and your reaction.
“Yeah. No. Hurts still.” You slurred out. Your eyes slowly closed, squeezing together as the bass rattled throughout your bones.
“C’mon. It’s late. I’m driving you home.” Till suddenly decided as he stood up from the couch, taking you with him. He waved down Sua.
“Let Ivan know I’m taking care of (Y/N) when he comes back, yeah?” He called out, a swift nod coming from Sua.
“Will do,” She gave a thumbs up. “Drive safe!”
“I will.” Till called back, half-carrying you out the front door. The cold air hit him like a ton of bricks, especially after being stuck in that stuffy house for the past 2 hours.
He led you to his motorcycle, guiding you to sit down on the back. He took his helmet and placed it on top of your head, flipping down the visor. He only had one helmet, but it was a short drive, and he was experienced with his motorcycle.
“Hold on tight.” He lifted a leg and straddled the seat, reaching backwards to grab your hands and wrap them around his waist. He turned on the motorcycle, gently rolling down the street before gaining speed as he merged onto the highway.
Lights whizzed past as Till drove, occasionally being passed by reckless drivers going 20 miles over the speed limit. It was peaceful—calmer than the party, anyway. He was acutely aware of your grip around his waist, a hand occasionally covering yours to make sure your grip stayed tight.
“Don’t fall asleep on me,” He called out over his shoulder, quickly facing back towards the road. “We’re almost there.”
He turned into the next exit, taking a couple more turns before he turned into his driveway. Opening his driveway, he parked his motorcycle. He stepped off the motorcycle, hands gentle as he lifted the helmet off of your head.
“C’mon, let’s get you to bed.”
His arm is a reassuring weight around your waist as he leads you into his house. It’s a nice 2 story house, a large staircase leading upstairs in the entry way.
He leads you to the staircase, going upwards at a snails pace to make sure you don’t trip or fall. As you make it to the top, he carefully opens the door to his room.
It’s messy, not dirty—okay, maybe there are a couple old takeout boxes here and there but that’s about it. He tip toes around the mess of clothes strewn about the floor, while you couldn’t care less. A couple of his old tee-shirts caught around your ankles, leading you to stumble slightly with a drunken yelp.
“Woah there! Watch where you’re stepping,” he teased with a grin. “Sit down.”
You complied, limbs flailing as you collapsed onto his large bed. Till reached inside the mini cooler placed haphazardly next to his bed, cracking open a fresh water bottle. His hand slipped under your back as he said beside you, guiding you to sit up.
“Cmon, you need to drink,” he held the water bottle to your lips. “It’ll help with your head. Promise.”
Your lips parted around the rim of the bottle, and he tilted the bottle upwards slowly as you took slow sips. He watched your face carefully as your throated bobbed each time you swallowed, wiping up a small trickle of water than ran down your chin.
Screwing the cap of the bottle, he placed it back into the mini fridge, kicking it closed. Gentle hands found your shoulders, easing you back onto the soft mattress. He sunk to his knees, propping up a foot on one of his thighs. His hands fumbled with the laces of your shoes, struggling to loosen the tight knot.
“Jesus, why the hell are your shoes tied so tight?”
“So they don’t come off, duh.” You babbled back.
Till sighed, a small smile creeping up on his lips. He yanked off your shoe, moving onto your other foot.
Once both of your shoes were off, he stood up to his full height and grabbed your legs. He rotated you so were now properly lying on his bed, and he carefully took your head into his hands and guided your head to rest on the pillow.
Your cheeks were so soft, and he couldn’t help but just hold your face for a moment too long. Even in your drunken stupor, you noticed.
“Somethin’ on my face?” You asked, eyes fluttering as you fought to keep them open.
Till suddenly yanks his hands away from your face. He busies his hands by pulling the duvet over your body.
“No, you’re, you’re fine.” He stuttered. He carefully tucked you in, before turning his back as a faint blush crept up his cheeks.
“Get some sleep. You need it.” He looked deep into your sleepy eyes, before rising to his full height. “Desperately.”
He pivoted on his heel, making his way to the door of his room. He would leave you to the bed—because 1.) he wouldn’t invade your privacy like that and 2.) he doesn’t want to end up with a leg in his side from you squirming in your drunken sleep.
He jumped as he felt a pair of fingers loosely grasp his wrist, and he swiftly turns around to look at you. You were halfway off the bed, outstretched as far as you could to grab his wrist.
“No, don’t go…” You mumbled, looking up at him so sweetly, even as your eyes drooped. His heart jumped in his chest, and he swore that if you weren’t drunk you would notice his heartbeat in his wrist speed up almost immediately.
“I…I can’t, (Y/N). I’m gonna—“
“Please? Pleasepleaseplease?”
He stood still for a moment, before slowly walking back over to the bed. He carefully moved you back into a comfortable lying position, before sitting down on the bed next to you.
“I can stay for just a little bit.” His hand found your head, gently combing through your hair. “That okay?”
“Yeah.”
Till stayed there until you feel asleep, gently stroking your hair as he watched you quickly drift into a deep sleep.