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“I… I don’t know what to say,” Matthias started, his lone brown eye already twitching with irritation as he shook his head in absolute disbelief.
Then, he raised his head, usually dull gaze piercing through the blonde who stood before him. Florian grinned sheepishly, fiddling with his fingers—as if it would help sell the “remorseful” act they both knew to be a complete joke.
The other looked up, his electric green eye peeking between his curly blonde locks—and smiled. “Maybe you could start with ’I forgive you, and I love you—and I’ll stay by your side forever and ever, till death do us part?’” he suggested imploringly, lips curling into an impish smirk.
“Well, now I know what not to say,” Matthias deadpanned, fingers moving to pinch at the bridge of his nose as he listened to the distant sound of an exaggerated gasp.
His boyfriend looked offended—deservedly so. Serves him right, so could he stop it with the kicked puppy eyes!? “But I didn’t do anything thaaat bad, right?” he whined, falling forward and winding his arms around Matthias’ waist.
“Be so for real right now, love,” Matthias sighed out, gesturing outside the open window beside them—which pointed directly at the charred remains of what used to be their shared dorm room across the street.
His boyfriend’s gaze flickered to it briefly, before returning to his face. “Okay, so, it happens—trust! I’m here for fire science c’mon now—it’s like in the name.” he said, all-too cheerful at the sight of their burned down home.
The brunette could only roll his eyes, “Oh, I’m sorry, I must’ve missed the part where all fire science majors start fires in their homes. Not once, not twice, but multiple times!” he exclaimed halfheartedly, exasperated.
Florian huffed offendedly, “Oh, come on! The one time my fires have escalated to–“ he waved his hand at the burnt building across from them, “…That extent—and suddenly I’m crazy!” he proclaimed jovially.
The room went silent with Matthias staring at him—smiling a hard-edged smile. “There’s a term for people like you, did you know? It starts with a ‘py-’ and ends with a ‘-romaniac’.” he said, crossing his arms.
Florian only pouted, mumbled a childish “boo”. “Uh, fine, sorry ‘bout all that, then…” the blonde muttered, adding, “I can cover the repairs, if it helps?” he trailed off at the last part.
To which, Matthias shook his head, “No, no, let my parents handle it. It’s the least they can do—really,” he waved dismissively.
Well, truthfully, the least they could do with all their money would be good, loving—caring parents to both him and Louis but that seemed to be a tall order for them.
So, he’ll take what he can get—which was practically unlimited access to the family’s shared bank. So it wasn’t all-too bad, he guessed.
Though admittedly, imagining their horrified faces at the sizable dent the repairs would undoubtedly leave in their finances—did put a smile on his face that no amount of faux affection and distant politeness could.
And perhaps that would be reason he had never even attempted to curb his lover’s more… thrill-seeking tendencies. But if so, that would only be his to know.
Hm… their friends were right, he supposed. They really were perfect for each other—whatever that meant for the world.
Knock. Knock.
Ah, speaking of which.
Florian stood up to open the door, “Oh, Hernando! Richard! Guys! What’s up?” he greeted cheerfully, moving aside to let them in.
And just like that, their little cramped (hopefully temporary) apartment was suddenly packed with what was—in Matthias’ opinion—way too many people.
“Hey,” Hernando greeted back, setting down what looked to be at least three cases of beer onto the bare kitchen countertop. “Just wanted to swing by, check up on y’all after all of… that,” Ah, right. “That” was right across the street, yes.
Their junior—Lily, piped in, “Mhm! I’m so sorry you guys had to go through something like that! It must be so hard,” she spoke empathetically, heaving in a huge box of… party decorations? Um, what exactly were they even… No matter, best not to question it.
But God, Lily, you have no idea… Matthias thought to himself with a flickering grin.
And in just under a few minutes, there was somebody sat on every relatively clean surface, drinking and chatting as the sun set behind them.
Matthias glanced across the room to see his blonde boyfriend, seemingly more than tipsy. No doubt, he was already spilling whatever came to mind, tongue looser than the screws keeping his head in place.
Oh well, all they could do was hope whatever his mouth spoke was nothing too damning.
Surely I can trust him to take care of himself just for a bit, no? Matthias pondered shortly, before turning back to listen to more of Hernando’s latest skydiving escapades. Yes, yes he could.
On the other hand, Florian was busying himself gushing about his boyfriend—his dog back home…? Whatever he was talking about it was too jumbled to make any sense of, in Richard’s opinion.
He sounded like he was enjoying himself though, so one point for Richard? Then suddenly, Florian chugged a big gulp of alcohol, sighing loudly in satisfaction.
“Did y’know, a while ago Matthias–“ he hiccuped, “He called me a pyromaniac!” Florian let out a bellowing laugh. “Which like am I weird for thinking ’Hell yeah I am’ or sumthin’ like that,” he slurred the last bit, head toppling onto the table.
Richard chuckled, taking a sip of his drink, “Not at all, though I do find it funny Matthias had called you that. A little ironic, I guess?” he leaned back in his seat, resting his arms underneath his head.
“Hah…?” the blonde replied in confusion, sitting up slowly. Richard smiled mischievously, “Oh, yeah—we used to joke with him about that all the time. Still do,” he paused, popping a chip into his mouth.
“One time–“ Richard said in-between munches, “He set the stage on fire—literally. Something about his puppets lookin’ too much like his little brother. Or something, I forgot,” he explained way too casually.
“No one was hurt so I don’t think anybody cared too much but still—quite the intriguing guy ain’t he?” he nudged his head in the brunette’s general direction, smile widening at the fond(?) memory.
Florian spat out his drink, ”He what!?”.