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“I cannot believe,” Susie grumbled, “the things I do for you, sometimes.”
Kris giggled brightly and nuzzled their head against hers. “‘Cos you love me,” they said. Their words slurred at the edges, making their already low, mumbly voice even harder to decipher.
Susie rolled her eyes, doing her best to ignore her own reflexive blush. “Whatever you say.”
It didn’t mean anything. Sober Kris would rather slit their throat with their own knife before saying the L word to anyone who wasn’t their own mother. Drunk Kris, on the other hand, was a different story. Whatever speech problem they normally had was thrown out the window, and somehow, they became even less filtered than before.
At least, Kris was a lightweight—literally and figuratively—so Susie had no trouble carrying them back home. There were few other people around to witness them at this time of evening, too. Though, Susie doubted they’d take much notice; her lugging Kris around wasn’t exactly an unusual sight, these days. Either way, it helped to ease her humiliation.
“Good thing Toriel’s out tonight,” Susie muttered. Another date with that stupid skeleton guy. Well, if it meant Susie and Kris didn’t walk in on another drunken dance session, then she wasn’t going to complain.
“S’why I picked today,” Kris mumbled. “She’s always out on Friday nights, now.”
Susie grimaced. She didn’t like being reminded that Kris had snuck around Toriel to get drunk before. Drinking in front of Susie wasn’t much better, but she could keep an eye on them this way. Make sure they weren’t doing anything to hurt themself, and that nobody else would take advantage. It helped, too, that Kris was the giggly, clingy kind of drunk. They didn’t get aggressive like her dad did.
At the Dreemurrs’ door, Susie briefly sat Kris down on the front step so she could fish around in their hoodie and pant pockets for their house key. These days, Susie was in and out of the house so much that Toriel had offered to cut her a spare of her own; though Susie had turned her down, she was starting to reconsider her decision.
“You’re putting your hand in the wrong holes,” Kris joked. It was slightly undercut by the red flush of their cheeks.
Susie flicked their forehead, just lightly, and felt vindicated when they squeaked with indignation. “Shut the hell up, dude,” she hissed. She was so glad there was nobody else around.
Inside, Susie dragged Kris up to their room. They were even less resistant to being pushed around when they were drunk, even if that came at the cost of them attaching to her like a burr and refusing to let go. Bundling Kris into their bed meant it would be easier for Susie to pacify Toriel with the excuse she’d been quietly formulating, that Kris had fallen sick and needed rest, too.
She shoved Kris face-down onto their bed, but they only giggled again, to her annoyance. While they struggled to push their shoes off their feet, Susie went downstairs to fetch a large glass of water, and some pills for the inevitable hangover. She was so used to looking after her dad that the motions came to her automatically.
Susie made Kris sit up against the headboard, and then she foisted the water on them. “Drink up, unless you wanna deal with a killer dehydration headache tomorrow.”
Kris took the water without protest, frowning at the reminder. Unfortunately, their coordination was shot; either that, or they’d picked now to mess with Susie, because they spilled a decent amount of the water down their front, soaking their hoodie and pants, in their attempt to drink.
“Whoops,” they said, smiling. “My bad.”
Susie groaned. At least, it was water, and not vomit. Still, she was tempted to storm out of the house and go visit Castle Town, but she knew in good conscience that she couldn’t leave Kris unattended. Especially when she didn’t know what time Toriel would be back.
“I didn’t realize I’d have to be on babysitting duty tonight,” Susie grumbled, snatching the near-empty glass from Kris to set it aside with the pills. “I should’ve dragged you to Castle Town. Then Ralsei would be fussing over you, instead.” Well, it was too late, now.
Kris pouted. “But I wanna stay with you.”
Susie hesitated, caught between snapping at them angrily and evaporating on the spot. All the monsters in Hometown—and now, the darkners in Castle Town, too—and yet she was the one Kris gravitated to, time and time again.
“Ugh, fine. If you insist,” she said, trying her best to sound put off. “Well, c’mon. You’re getting undressed.”
She began to wrestle Kris out of their wet clothes. Easy to do, when all Kris did was lie there and squirm like a worm. “At least kiss me before you start taking off my clothes,” they complained.
“How many times do I have to tell you to shut up?” Susie demanded. “Be a good dog and sit. Stay.”
Her own face burned in humiliation, but despite Kris’ pout, they obeyed her commands. Kris needed to change clothes, anyway; they’d been wearing this set for almost a week, now, and they had the luxury of spare clothes, unlike Susie. She tried not to ogle their naked body as she stripped them down—even if she had already seen it, like, a million times by now—and then she threw the blankets over top to cover them up.
Kris whined, puppyish, and pulled the blankets tight around themself as they shivered. “Susie, it’s cold. Come back. Warm me up.”
“Hell no.” Susie knew exactly what Kris was going to do if she did, and she wasn’t about to let that happen. If they were sober, she would’ve agreed. When they were drunk? No. She had standards, dammit. Even if Kris wouldn’t care either way, or they were as enthusiastic now as they were when sober…
Instead, Susie gathered their clothes into a ball and took it down to the washroom. She dunked it into the basket of clothes to be laundered, and then spent a minute squinting at the washer before giving up. The control configuration was too different from the washers at the local laundromat that she was used to. She’d let Toriel take care of it when she got back.
Susie returned upstairs, where she ignored Kris’ continued pleading and beelined for their brother’s side of the room. She had to get them clothes from Asriel’s drawer, because Kris’ drawer was full of old girls’ clothes that no longer fit them. Susie didn’t know why Toriel hadn’t donated them to charity, already. It took some scouring through Asriel’s unkempt collection to find suitable clothes: briefs and a tank top, a shirt and sweatpants, with a green-and-yellow handknit jersey to complete the set. Susie kept digging up girls’ clothes in here, too, but these weren’t Kris’ old ones; checking the labels revealed the name “DESS” written in bold, black permanent marker. She made sure to carefully fold and put those clothes back where she’d found them.
Susie dumped her selection on Kris’ drawer and then tossed the underwear at their face. “Put these on and get in bed, already.”
Kris whined again, but they relented, kicking the blankets down to fumble on the fresh underwear. Susie turned away, giving them some privacy, and she tried not to listen too closely to the rustling of bedsheets behind her.
“I’m done, Susie,” Kris announced, after several moments.
Susie was relieved to look back and see that Kris had indeed put on the underwear; though, she was pretty sure the tank top was inside-out. It was already starting to slide off one bony, freckled shoulder, too, teasing at Kris’ non-existent cleavage. The top was simply too big to sit comfortably on their bony frame without other clothes to keep it in place. Still, Susie felt more comfortable now that Kris was relatively clothed, lower half covered by the blankets, again.
She sat down on the bed beside them. “Well? How’re you feeling?”
“M’fine,” Kris mumbled. The slurring of their syllables told her otherwise.
Susie favored them with a dubious look. “Really. You don’t wanna throw up or anything?”
“I’m not that drunk,” Kris insisted with a huff. “Just buzzed.”
Susie fought down the urge to snap that her dad said the same things. “You’re still not sober,” she growled, instead. “Look, just let me know if you’re gonna hurl so I can bolt downstairs and grab a bucket. Unless you want your mom to clean your sick outta the carpet.”
Kris scowled and blew air, fluttering their frontmost bangs slightly. “Fine,” they muttered, at last.
“So, you do need me to go get a bucket?”
“No. I’m not gonna throw up.”
Susie decided not to push it. Let Kris deal with their own mess, then. “Alright,” she said, shrugging. “Suit yourself.”
She stood from the bed to head for Asriel’s, but a hand grabbed her wrist before she could get any further. “Don’t leave, Susie,” Kris pleaded—genuinely, this time. “Stay. Please.”
Susie hesitated. She didn’t exactly want to share the bed when Kris was like this, but…she had to admit, it’d probably be harder for her to sleep without them. She’d gotten too used to being lulled to rest by their weight on her, the rhythm of their slow and gentle breathing, the reassuring beat of their heart…
“Fine,” she conceded, “but if you try anything, I’ll skin you.”
This only elicited another giggle from Kris, and—ugh. Susie hated it when they smiled at her like that, all soft and sweet, because then she couldn’t resist them. They scooted across the mattress to give her room, and she quickly removed her coat, shoes, and jeans before climbing in to take it.
Susie had barely laid herself down before Kris curled their arms around her shoulders, tucking themself into her front. Susie sighed, again, and held them in place at the waist. She didn’t dislike this, admittedly. It was nice to just hold them. Kris didn’t run as hot as she did, but they were still warm and solid against her. Besides, she knew Kris was going through a lot. The scars on their exposed arms and thighs alone told her that, never mind the drinking. If Susie could do something to help out, then she wanted to do it, because Kris deserved better. Better than how she’d treated them, back before they’d become friends.
“I think I’m starting to realize how Ralsei must feel,” she muttered, half to Kris, half to herself. “You’re a terrible influence, y’know.”
Kris giggled, a warm tickle of air against the scales of Susie’s neck. “I love you, too, Susie.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Susie said, trying to pretend it was only Kris being drunk silly. “You just love cuddling up to me, ‘cos I’m a great heater.”
“I mean it, Susie,” Kris mumbled sleepily. “I love you.”
“Go the fuck to sleep, dumbass,” Susie murmured, running her fingers through Kris’ mop of hair.
They went silent, at last, so Susie could relax and ignore the excess, fuzzy warmth of her face, the fluttering in her chest, and the urge to get out of the bed and pace up and down the stairs until her legs were sore. It didn’t mean anything. Kris was drunk. They’d never say that to her when they were sober.
There was one upside to all this, at least: Kris wouldn’t remember half of it by the time they woke up, next morning, and Susie would be able to take sweet, sweet revenge in their mortification when she recounted everything.
Still, Susie thought she might keep the drunken love confession to herself. It’d be stepping over the line to tease Kris about that, after all.