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Alyosha struggled to grip the cabin’s doorknob, the sharp air dulling all his senses and making it impossible to feel his fingers.

He eventually managed to swing the door open, watching coyly as Tugarin ran in and bounced around the room, indifferent to the temperature— Alyosha smiled to himself and quickly started a fire, tempted to stick his hands in the flame and let it consume him.

The blizzard had hit sooner than expected, and he’d had to return empty-handed; but at least he’d gotten back without any new medical bills to pay.

He shrugged the damp jackets off, indulging his desire to feel the fire’s warmth directly on his skin. Tugarin sat by his side, seemingly enjoying the closeness, and Alyosha found it in him to chuckle and scratch him behind the ear.

“Sorry buddy, not every hunt can be a successful one,” he spoke quietly. It’d been an especially tough day; he’d been woken up at the crack of dawn by a group of highwaymen trying to steal his rifle and the minuscule game he’d managed to catch. One of them snuck away with what was supposed to be his dinner. 

He knew the risks of camping outside, but damn was the environment adamant about reminding him.

Alyosha sighed; he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a proper meal, yet he wasn’t particularly hungry. Regardless, he scrounged around his pantry, digging through non-perishable jars of things he didn’t feel like preparing.

He bit the inside of his cheek in resignation and nearly went back to the fire before something caught his eye; a bottle of firewater he forgot he had. Vodyanitsa had given it to him as a gift when she found out about sharing membership in the Rokot, which is also how she found out he didn’t really enjoy drinking.

He grabbed the bottle and a small shot glass, pouring it straight and swirling it around. He’d seen how this stuff made people act; the looseness of their tongues and incoherent speech had made him hesitant. But he was curious about the feeling– he’d never let himself get more than just tipsy before.

“What is wrong with me…” he pinched the bridge of his nose, admittedly disappointed with himself, but gulped down the shot anyway. Just three wouldn’t hurt; that’s what it took to get drunk, right? It didn’t even feel like much; there was no flavor, just a very strong burning sensation that made him scramble to find water.

Tugarin watched him, eyes focused on him as he stumbled to pour himself a glass. Alyosha narrowed teary eyes at him and pouted, wiping his lips with his forearm.

“You’re judging me, aren’t you?” his voice was uncomfortably hoarse.

His friend barked, as if agreeing. Alyosha groaned and poured himself another shot, taking a deep breath before downing it just to cringe at the feeling once more. A couple minutes later, he found it in him to take a third one and then put the bottle back where it was. If he couldn’t get a win today, he could at least get drunk enough to forget how frustrated he was.

He sat back down in front of the fire and swaddled himself in a blanket, tempted to just fall asleep and use Tugarin as a pillow, but figured he’d at least let the alcohol hit him first. Maybe it would make him hungry enough to cook something edible.

Only at around the 20 minute mark did he start feeling… funny. His chest felt heavy and his hands were clammy, like he needed something, or someone, to hold onto. The lack of contact with anything was almost physically painful– and was it normal to feel so cold?

He glanced at Tugarin, his thick coat of fur and big blue eyes. Alyosha tugged the blanket tighter around himself. People always seemed so carefree when they drank firewater– but he just felt like crawling out of his skin. A small wave of nausea built steadily within him, but it was easy enough to ignore. Mostly he just felt alone, which was weird, because Tugarin was right there next to him.

The husky seemed to sense his distress, because he stood up and sat on his lap, licking his face. He chucked and buried himself in the fur, gripping his partner tightly.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, knowing that Tugarin wasn’t exactly the cuddly type. “Is this how you feel when Vodya squeezes you?” he scratched the other’s fur, smiling to himself when Tugarin huffed. He chose to take it as equal parts love and exasperation with the singer.

He really wished they were here right now.

Tugarin jumped off him and headed for the door, probably signaling he wanted to be let out. Alyosha pouted to himself and shakily sat up, shocked at how dizzy he felt, before opening the door to let the husky play out in the blizzard. What was a freezing storm to him seemed like the ideal temperature for the pup.

He shut the door and returned to the fire, the movements making him dizzy enough for the headache to worsen, which only made him more nauseous. The worst part was just how desperately he wanted to cling to someone– it wasn’t a feeling he was used to, but it was in no way enjoyable.

Alyosha felt like he was going to faint. An hour had passed since he’d downed the three small drinks; his head was spinning like hell and he could barely stand without falling over– breathing in felt impossible, like that uncomfortable feeling when you just can’t get enough air in your lungs. Like you’re suffocating. He’d switched from being cold to feeling burning hot– the blood rushing to his face feeling inescapable.

He’d always had a strong stomach, it was just what his environment demanded— he couldn’t even remember the last time he’d thrown up, and that was usually an advantage, but right now was just adding to the helplessness he felt as he stared at an old bucket he’d dug up from the corner a messy closet.

He wanted nothing more than to pass out cold, but was familiar enough with alcohol poisoning to know that if he choked and didn’t wake up, it was over. Granted, that was the only thing he knew.

The hunter took a deep breath and sipped on water again. He really didn’t know the procedure for this, which in hindsight, makes him an idiot, but all he could do now was ride it out until he was sober.

The world spun and his lungs burned, eyes teary from the amount of times he’d dry heaved into a bucket just to cough up saliva.

When he heard a knock on his door, he just assumed he’d started hallucinating. Then he heard it again, louder, and glanced at the sound through blurry eyes. Whoever it was, their timing couldn’t possibly be worse.

He walked slowly towards the door, his voice practically useless from how much his throat burned. Could it be someone seeking refuge from the snow? 

He opened his door but was too dizzy to look up, so he just stayed hunched over with his eyes shut tight.

“I’m sorry,” he struggled to get himself to sound coherent, “now’s really not a good time–”

“Alyosha?!” the person grabbed him by the shoulders, noticing how frail he looked. He didn’t even try to keep standing, just let them hold him up. The mystery person gently took him by the chin and forced him to look up, sending yet another wave of nausea up his throat. He shut his eyes weakly pushed them away before covering his mouth and forcing himself to swallow.

“Archons,” they said under their breath, pulling him inside and closing the door behind them. He was too far gone to even notice the temperature change. He distantly wondered if that was a bad sign.

“Were you… drinking?” the voice asked, obviously shocked, but set him down on the bed with his back to the headrest anyway. Alyosha groaned and hunched over; just the presence of someone else made him calm enough to nearly fall asleep.

He distantly heard shuffling around the kitchen, his tap running before they forced a glass of water to his lips and tilted it upwards. The faint smell of fabric softener hit him, and he opened his eyes enough to see Mitya. He was staring at his chest as it rose and fell, though he had no clue why.

“Your breathing is stable and your cheeks are flushed,” he said quietly, as if to himself, before looking up at him, “I don’t think it’s alcohol poisoning, but just in case, where’s the nearest doctor?” 

Alyosha almost laughed at the concept, only to groan when his head pounded again from the budding migraine. “Schnenograd,” he slurred. “An hour away.”

Mitya bit his lip and tsked. “Have you thrown up?”

“...Can’t,” he leaned forward and held on to the other’s shoulder, silently asking Mitya for support. The other man understood, scooting closer and rubbing his back as slowly as he could. 

“How much did you have?"

“Three shots of firewater,” he managed to remember, muffled by Mitya’s shoulder. 

“Did you eat anything before or during?”

Alyosha groaned at the amount of questions, his headache getting stronger each time he had to use his brain.

“No,” he said, feeling short of breath. He inhaled as deeply as he could before sitting up, looking at Mitya through blurry eyes. “Am I supposed to?”

Mitya cupped his cheek and rubbed gently. “Yes, baby. The alcohol makes it way into your bloodstream much quicker when there’s nothing to slow it down. Did you at least spread them out?”

Alyosha blinked slowly before he hiccuped and slapped a hand over his mouth, the distinct taste of acid surging up his throat again. Panic flooded his brain and he rushed to get off the bed, Mitya helping keep him steady before he retched into the bucket for the umpteenth time. Tears pricked in his eyes at just how much it burned, but he didn’t have time to breathe before his stomach painfully contracted and forcefully emptied. 

“There you go,” Mitya kept a steady hand on the other’s back, rubbing up and down his spine. 

Alyosha barely heard him over the pounding in his head. He would’ve been more embarrassed if he could focus on anything other than how every part of his body was actively trying to make him pass out.

Alyosha had no clue for how long he was hunched over that bucket, but once he sat up, the nausea had significantly dulled. It was all basically liquid, and didn’t do much for the headache or uncomfortable heat under his skin.

He went to stand and clean the bucket only for the dizziness to keep his legs useless. He could still barely balance himself, so he just watched in horror as Mitya set him against the bed and took the vessel to the sink and washed it.

He returned with a clean bucket and a glass of water, which he happily chugged down.

“I’m so sorry about this,” he sighed, his head falling back against the bed as he stayed on the floor. “It’s disgusting.”

“This could happen to anybody,” Mitya said sweetly, taking a seat next to him and placing the bucket between his legs. “What matters is that your vitals stay in order until your kidneys process the alcohol.”

His eyes narrowed and he looked at Mitya with a blank expression.

“You’re gonna have to stay up a bit longer. Do you remember how long ago you had the shots?”

Alyosha pursed his lips. It felt like every thought he strung together got spun to cotton, his ears staying uncomfortably warm throughout. 

“An hour and a half? M’not super sure.”

Mitya nodded. “Let’s give it two more hours then. If your condition’s still stable, I’ll let you sleep.”

“You’re gonna stay up?”

“Of course,” he ran his hand through the other’s hair. Alyosha melted at the touch, humming and shifting closer to Mitya. He set the bucket aside and let the hunter climb between his legs– Mitya melted as he wrapped his legs around his torso and rested his head against Mitya’s shoulder.

“Why were you drinking? I didn’t take you for the type to get blackout drunk on a Tuesday," Mitya teased, though the concern in his tone was apparent.

“Wasn’t my intention— I didn’t think the time between drinks mattered? Or that food would somehow… prevent this,” he slurred. Just that sentence took a scary amount out of him.

“Three shots is usually just to get regular drunk,” Mitya agreed. “But from what I can tell, you’re both a lightweight and an idiot.”

Alyosha groaned, hugging Mitya tighter and wishing the other would hug him back. 

“Head hurts,” he complained instead of asking, hoping Mitya would take the hint.

Mitya giggled, bringing the other closer and rubbing his back up and down. Alyosha hummed and visibly relaxed at the pressure.

“I missed you,” he sighed. The light in the room burned his eyes so he kept them closed; he could not be bothered to go turn off the lights.

“I missed you too. I came over with hot food, you know?”

“Ugh, food’s the last thing I want right now. M’still nauseous.”

“That’s because you haven’t eaten,” Mitya separated them gently. “It’s just meat and mashed potatoes. At least have the latter?”

Alyosha groaned and shut his eyes tightly, the light of the room amplifying the hammering against his temples. He fought the urge to tug at his hair for relief. 

“Kay.”

“Perfect!” Mitya kissed his cheek, standing up and leaving Alyosha alone by the fire. “Stay there, don’t move.”

“Mmm,” he hummed, only to yawn as the warmth enveloped him. He could still feel where Mitya had been touching him; the sensation lingered on his skin, and he craved the contact again. He wasn’t a huge fan of physicality, but it felt so much nicer than usual right now. Maybe because it was the only source of comfort he had.

“Let’s start small, okay? Here’s some water, drink it slowly,” a lovely voice called from in front of him. He sleepily opened his eyes and narrowed them at Mitya. Alyosha nodded, working his way through the glass over the course of 20 minutes. Mitya kept his hands on his back or hair throughout, waiting patiently.

Eventually, he felt movement next to him and glanced over at the researcher. He was met with Mitya facing him while holding a fork, which only held the slightest bit of food. He was about to say he could feed himself before his lover held the bite to his mouth, and he quickly realized he had no fight left in him.

“Potatoes are rich in starch, which is easy to digest,” Mitya chirped. It was crazy how the churning of his stomach immediately settled down as he made his way through a small part of the portion. 

He eventually had enough energy to pick up the plate and finish it off, his headache going away as he did so. 

“Slow down there,” Mitya chuckled, grabbing his wrist gently and forcing the fork away from his mouth. “No need to upset your stomach again.”

Alyosha blushed slightly and looked away. He hadn’t even realized he’d been eating quickly.

“My bad,” he said simply, setting down the nearly empty plate. He held the glass of water to his lips, covering his face with it as he sipped while avoiding eye contact.

Mitya chuckled warmly. “Not at all. It just worried me seeing someone like you so delirious. Are you feeling better?” 

“Significantly,” he rested his head against the other. “I’m sorry about this,” he sighed, drowsiness overcoming him.

“Thank you for letting me help,” he rested his head on the other’s, grabbing Alyosha’s hand and intertwining their fingers.

“Thank you for saving my behind,” he groaned, shifting closer to Mitya. The scientist was so warm, so gentle, he just wanted to be engulfed in his scent and held for hours.

“Stay over?” he asked, opening his eyes and sitting slightly forward to make proper eye contact. “I don’t wanna be alone.”

“Alyosha,” Mitya sighed, taking his opposite hand and tucking a stray hair out of his partner’s face. “I’ve been waiting for you to ask~”

“You can thank the firewater,” he leaned forward, about to kiss the other, before he stopped himself. He probably tasted like acid and bile, plus this guy had just seen him throw up; there was no way he wanted that.

He just stared at Mitya sleepily, who just stared back at him with flushed cheeks.

“Hah,” Mitya laughed, analyzing his face. “There’s no way you’re in the mood right now, but you look so cute–” he covered his face with his hand, glancing away. “Sorry– that was inappropriate, I– I don’t know why I said that.”

Alyosha stared dumbly, as if processing his words one at a time. His heart sped up slightly when he realized, and with the limited dexterity he’d gotten back, he tilted Mitya’s face to his and leaned forward. Mitya visibly relaxed as the other kissed him, wrapping his hands around the other and pulling him close.

Maybe it was dumb– they’d been dating for months now, after all– but his heart still skipped a beat when Alyosha showed how much he wanted him. He was warm to the touch and soft against his lips, and Mitya’s head got fuzzy enough to crave more. He noticed Alyosha keeping his mouth shut and tilted his head, pushing into him and whining quietly as a request. 

“I don’t think you wanna do that right now…” he gently separated himself from Mitya.

“Starch masks acidity,” he threw out, titling forward and chasing the other’s lips. “Plus you rinsed your mouth. Please?”

He chuckled sleepily and pushed Mitya’s back into the bed, enjoying the way the scientist gently ran his hands up and down his torso. Mitya pulled him in slowly by the waist and kissed him, tilting his head eagerly when Alyosha parted his lips and let him in.

“Is it bad,” Alyosha whispered against his lips, “that I want you all to myself sometimes?”

Mitya swore all the blood in him rushed to his face, because he suddenly felt unbearably hot.

“Really?” he squeaked out, making Alyosha giggle drunkenly. The hunter leaned forward and hooked a finger around the neckline of Mitya’s shirt. He pulled it to the side, kissing the exposed skin and working his way to his earlobe, nibbling gently. Mitya didn’t expect the action to make his breath hitch.

“Yeah, really,” said the boy above, rolling his hips against the other. “I could show you.”

And as much as Mitya loved the boldness, that’s what made him snap out of it.

“You’re still drunk,” he said, holding Alyosha by the hips and forcing him still. “You’d never say those things sober, would you?” he smiled.

Alyosha whined and ignored him, going to palm Mitya through his pants since his hips were out of commission. Mitya grabbed his wrist and trailed his hand up, linking their fingers.

“It’s been two hours,” Alyosha groaned, “I'm sober.” His headache had significantly faded, and his primary need right now was getting as close to Mitya as he could. With each passing second, that desire got harder to ignore.

“Right,” Mitya chuckled. “Multiply 30 and 17 in your head.”

“Not math–” Alyosha whined, not even wanting to try. “700” he threw out, hoping it was close enough to win over Mitya. Judging by the way Mitya started laughing at him, he guessed he was pretty far off.

“Yeah, let’s get you to bed,” he smiled at Alyosha. “In the morning, you can ask for whatever you want.”

“In the morning I’ll want to die from shame,” Alyosha pointed out, pinning him harshly against the side of the bed and lowering the zipper on his pants. “I’ve had the worst day and you made it a good one, let me make it up to you–”

“Archons, you’re never allowed to drink again,” Mitya huffed, gently pushing the other off and standing, helping Alyosha on to the bed.

“Why?” the hunter asked. “We’ve done these things before, what does it matter how much I’ve had–” he blinked, connecting the dots groggily. “I disgust you, don’t I,” he slid a hand up through his bangs. “I’m probably the last person you want to see naked– shit, I’m sorry for keeping you here– and letting you feed me– oh my god,” with each word he spoke the more mortified he felt. “This was repulsive, I’m so sorry–”

“Hey hey hey, hey,” Mitya sat on the bed in front of him and took both of Alyosha’s hands in his. “Please don’t think like that. It’s partly because you’re too drunk to understand what you’re asking for, but you could still throw up again, or it might worsen your headache– none of those risks are worth taking.”

“Mitya, you’re too–” he racked his brain for the right term, landing on “media-trained.”

“Pft– what?” Mitya smiled, turning to fully face Alyosha, who was sitting criss-cross and leaning on the wooden headboard. “I’m guessing from you, that’s an insult.”

“Maybe,” he drawled, letting his head fall back. “I don’t– can you just be straight with me?”

“What do you want to know?” Mitya asked, shuffling to sit fully on the bed and beside his lover.

Alyosha turned his head to face the other, sitting up slightly to make proper eye contact. The room had stopped spinning, but he still struggled to focus.

“Do you even wanna be here? You don’t have to feel bad about–”

“Yes,” the reply cut him off, accompanied by a gentle squeeze on his thigh. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be. I’d hate it so much if you went through all of this alone,” he yammered, but Alyosha sighed and leaned close to him.

“See? Too media-trained. No one’s that selfless.” Alyosha leaned forward, getting close enough to Mitya for him to feel the other’s body heat. 

“I’ll choose to take that as a compliment,” Mitya replied, pecking the other’s lips before smiling at him. “Doubt me if you want, but I have no reason to lie.”

“Okay then,” Alyosha let his head fall against Mitya’s shoulder. “So you won’t mind another?”

“Question?"

“Mhm,” he hummed, clearly on the verge of consciousness. Mitya giggled and let his scarf push the other closer into him. “Ask away.”

“...Do you love me?”

Mitya stopped breathing for a second.

“Alyosha,” his voice dropped. “Of course.”

“Say it, then.”

Mitya pursed his lips and sighed. “No. Not– not like this. Not when you might not even remember.”

Alyosha pulled back away from him. “You won’t touch me, you won’t tell me you love me– just admit it, this changed how you see me. Now you know I’m an idiot compared to you–“ he looked away, rubbing the corners of his eyes. “I can’t tell you what gunpowder combustion efficiency is, I don’t know how safe alcohol consumption works, couldn't even shoot the bastard that robbed me this morning,” a broken sob tore through, much to his own frustration. What was he saying?

He wiped his eyes and groaned, headache coming back at full force. “Just, leave. Stop pitying me.” 

“I… I didn’t know you felt that way,” Mitya said, voice quiet.

“Yeah, well, surprise,” he laughed humorlessly. 

Mitya reached out to him but drew his hand back, biting his cheek. The best course of action was probably to let Alyosha fall asleep so they could talk about this in the morning. But he couldn't stand the thought of him going to bed upset. He looked back up at his partner, who had his knees to his chest and was staring blankly forward.

“You think I look down on you,” he said. Alyosha stayed quiet and looked off to the side.

“After today, I wouldn’t blame you.”

“Seriously, why are you pushing me away?” the slightest bit of anger showed through his voice. “I came here because I care about you.”

“You came here with food because you don’t think I take proper care of myself.”

“Those are not mutually exclusive, Alyosha,” his voice was stern. 

“I didn’t need your help today. I would’ve been fine.”

“Seriously? Is all of this because I didn’t say that I love you?”

“I don’t know!” he yelled into his hands. “I just— I don’t get it. Why me? Because of my character?” He recalled the words Mitya had said to him when they began dating. “That’s barely a reason! You could’ve just had anyone in the Rokot if that’s what you’re after, hell, go after Valeriy! He doesn’t spend his days pointing a loaded gun at people.”

“Fucking hell,” Mitya spat, “There’s nothing to ‘get,’ man. I’m dating you because I fell for you and you liked me enough to see where it went. I like you because you’re principled and you put your money where your mouth is. I’d tell all of Teyvat that I’m dating you if I could, you know that!”

“Do I?!” The hunter turned around to face him, gripping tightly at the sheets.

Mitya had to take a deep breath. Fighting with someone while they’re drunk is pointless, it’ll just escalate endlessly. He’d have to try a different angle.

“Are you mad at me?” he lowered his voice, trying to seem as small as possible. The switch up confused Alyosha so much that he nearly sobered up.

“Well– I, I don’t– what?”

“Can we still cuddle tonight?” He wrapped his scarf around his partner, forcing him closer. “I missed you so much these past few days. I get to see you so much less than Odie and Vodya,” he made the tips of their noses touch, before planting a kiss against his cheekbone.

Alyosha stared at him dumbly, brow furrowed as if trying to understand the punchline.

"Weren't you just… mad at me?” 

“Who cares about that,” Mitya drawled, getting under the covers and spreading his arms, beckoning the other closer. “My gorgeous lover drank himself stupid and now I have a rare chance to baby him.” 

“I’m not sure if that’s what you wanna take from this,” Alyosha deadpanned, but still joined Mitya under the covers, albeit facing away from him. He was too tired to keep fighting anyway. Mitya groaned and sat up, making Alyosha glance at him before he felt Mitya’s lips on his.

As soon as Alyosha sighed and kissed him back, Mitya kissed him deeper, forcing him harder into the bed and running a hand from his shoulder to the tips of his fingers, intertwining them with his own.

“Mitya–?”

“I don’t know how to make you feel better right now,” he confessed. “But we’ll talk it out tomorrow. We’ll figure it out.”

Alyosha’s heart felt like it was being squeezed dry– like it was actively bleeding for the boy above him. He felt tears prick in his eyes and cupped Mitya’s face. “I’m so sorry. I– I don’t know why I yelled.”

“Months of repressed feelings plus alcohol, that’s why,” he pointed out, lying back down and making Alyosha turn around to look at him. “I promise that tomorrow, I won’t shut up about how in love with you I am.”

Alyosha chuckled and scooted forward, close enough for their noses to brush. “No, I shouldn’t have brought it up. I’m the one that said we should wait.”

“No point in waiting to say what I already feel,” he let his hand rest on the crook of the hunter’s waist. “Part of me just didn’t wanna scare you away too soon.”

“I think I almost scared you away,” he muffled into the pillow. Mitya giggled and shook his head.

“It’ll take more than a drunken ramble to make me leave. But I hope you learned something from this.”

“Yes, sir,” Alyosha groaned, holding Mitya tightly and sliding his hand under his shirt, seeking out the warmth. Mitya cringed at the other’s cold fingertips but dared not remove them.

“I’m taking that bottle of firewater with me, by the way,” the researcher said.

“All yours,” he mumbled back. “I’m never drinking that stuff again.”

Mitya hummed and brought their lips together again. Alyosha had already been drifting off, but he hummed happily into the kiss anyway, sliding his hand up Mitya’s back and pulling him closer. Their movements were slow and unhurried, the bond between them tense, but not broken. 

At some point, Alyosha planted a kiss on the tip of his nose and tucked himself completely in Mitya’s hold, finally losing consciousness.

The first things he felt when he woke up were a killer headache and extreme thirst. Alyosha didn’t even open his eyes, just put a blanket over his head and groaned. 

Then he heard someone chuckle from next to him, which he immediately recognized as Mitya. Last night came rushing back to him in bits and pieces– how sick he felt, Mitya coming over, him being a complete child about how he felt, all before finally falling asleep. Painfully, he lifted the covers and opened his eyes. Mitya was sitting up next to him, and when he saw him emerge, simply ran his fingers through Alyosha’s hair and smiled.

“Morning, sunshine~” he teased. “How are you feeling?”

He sat up to answer before a wave of nausea hit him. His eyes flew open and he ran to the bathroom.

“That checks out,” Mitya whispered to himself, clicking his tongue. He prepared a glass of water and found Alyosha rinsing his mouth, spitting out the water and cringing at the taste. His chest rose and fell rapidly, and he leaned over the sink and let his head rest on it. 

“Here,” Mitya handed him the cup. “You’re dehydrated and hungover. Drink fluids and take it easy today.”

“Thanks,” he managed to say, his voice painfully hoarse. He finished the water and sighed, looking at Mitya hesitantly. The scientist pulled him out of the small bathroom and sat on the bed, patting the space next to him.

“We need to talk.”

Alyosha didn’t dare disagree. He sat next to the other man, staring at his hands and picking off the dead skin next to his nails.

It wasn’t a fun conversation, but it was a necessary one. The things Alyosha had said didn’t fully reflect how he felt, but they were a real part of him, and he had made the (intoxicated) decision to use them against Mitya.

There was a lot of apologizing and explaining that he was grateful, that he did care about the other, but still had small insecurities that he’d let build. It ended with him promising that if they were to start getting to him, he’d quickly share with all of them so they could talk through it. 

“If Odette were here, do you think she’d say ‘I told you so’?” Mitya asked. Alyosha chuckled and let himself fall backwards into the bed, facing the ceiling. 

“I don’t think she'd be the type to say it out loud. But she would be glaring at me right now.”

Mitya turned around and got on his stomach next to Alyosha, playing with his hair. The hunter looked at him and smiled slightly.

“I’m really glad it was you who came over last night. I really did miss you.”

“You could’ve shown it a bit better,” he leaned closer, eyes crinkling as he smiled wide. “But I can forgive you. This time.”

Alyosha chuckled and let his eyes fall closed, letting Mitya twirl the short strands of hair that framed his face.

“You said something else last night,” Mitya said quietly. Alyosha opened his eyes, looking at Mitya through his lashes.

“I said a lot of things last night. I’ll need some specificity here,” he teased.

“That sometimes you want me all to yourself,” his voice quieted down. “It really surprised me.”

“Really?” He sounded a bit shocked. “Who wouldn’t want you to themself?” He lifted a hand, cupping Mitya’s face and watching him relax into the touch. “Just look at you.”

Mitya’s heart stuttered in his chest. The last few hours had felt like a rollercoaster, and it finally felt like they could move on to a different ride.

“What’s that mean?” he leaned forward.

“Pretty, stupidly smart, charismatic, funny, creative, so much kinder than you could be–” 

Mitya slapped a hand over Alyosha’s mouth, visibly blushing. “I get it,” he groaned. Alyosha stared at him through lidded eyes and kissed his palm, shifting to be on his side and pecking at his knuckles. Mitya watched him quietly, not wanting to interrupt whatever trance the other boy was in.

“I don’t think you do,” he bemoaned. “That might be partly my fault. I don’t do the best job of showing it, but I really do lo–”

Mitya’s hand flew to Alyosha’s mouth, and this time his face was bright red. Alyosha shot him a questioning look.

“Sorry, I panicked,” he looked off to the side, tucking both arms under himself and using them to stay upright. Alyosha smiled and leaned his head against him.

“Didn’t think you could still get shy,” he joked, making Mitya look away.

“Mitya,” Alyosha chuckled and sat back up, getting next to him and folding his legs. Mitya spared him a glance and sat up as well, crossing his legs and facing him.

“You’re always complementing us. Stop getting nervous when we do it back.”

He wanted to laugh and scratch his neck, redirecting the compliments like he was used to. But instead he felt his ears get hot as Alyosha cupped his face and examined it.

“Your eyes are beautiful, I swear they’re so bright they glow,” the hunter sighed. “Your hair’s always so soft too,” he played with the messy strands, ignoring the way Mitya straightened slightly and avoided eye contact. 

“When did you become such a sweet-talker,” Mitya tried teasing, but if he’d been standing, his knees would’ve buckled at the way Alyosha was looking at him. Lips slightly parted, eyes focused on him alone; he swallowed dryly.

“You’re something else,” Alyosha said softly, ignoring the quip. “You could seriously break my heart if you wanted; I’m not sure how to handle the fact I’m basically dating an angel.”

He had to look away and catch his breath, pushing the other away. “What’s gotten into you? I already forgave you for last night, you don’t have to sing my praises.”

Alyosha grabbed his arm and connected their hands, leaning closer to the scientist.

“Mitya?” he said against his ear, and Mitya was about ready to evaporate. 

“Yeah?” Mitya mumbled, nearly inaudibly. He was never getting used to his partners going quiet like this, touching him gently and talking to him like he was the center of their world.

“Can I say it?”

Mitya forced himself to look at his partner. Both their pupils were blown, but Alyosha looked so relaxed– he wished he could just calm down like that.

“I won’t stop you.”

Alyosha smiled and kissed him on the cheek, chaste and simple. “I love you,” he smiled against the other.

“Thank you– I mean, I–” he stumbled over his words. They all had their ways of driving him to the brink of insanity, and he was currently discovering how Alyosha went about it. The hunter chuckled and waited patiently.

“I love you too,” he had to look away. He’d only said it to Vodyanitsa, and talking was always easiest with her. Being open with Odette and Alyosha, however… both were monumentally more difficult for him.

Exhibit A.

Alyosha tilted his chin towards him, forcing eye contact. “Look at me when you say it,” he said simply, his voice giving nothing away.

“You’re killing me here,” he whined, but Alyosha just hummed and pecked his lips.

“I believe in you.”

“You were a lot nicer to me when we didn’t know each other,” Mitya pouted, making the hunter giggle. 

“I can be nice. Just say it to my face.”

He sighed and forced himself to not squirm. “Alyosha?”

“Mm?” he tilted his head, eyes locked on his.

“I love you.”

"And yeah, that's all that happened," Mitya finished recounting, playing with Vodyanitsa's hair. The two girls looked at each other, heavily unimpressed.

"Remind me to give you an instruction manual if I ever gift you shampoo," Odette nudged Alyosha, who was currently leaning against her and staring at the pages of the book she was reading. Alyosha got off her specifically to lick her cheek, with the explicit purpose of grossing her out.

"For the love of-" she pushed him off with enough force to knock him off the couch; he could've caught himself, but was too busy laughing at the disgusted face she made, so he opted to lay on Mitya's living room floor and smile up at her.

"Don't dish it if you can't take it," he fought back, still grinning.

"How about ‘don't drink unsupervised?’ What if Mitya hadn't been there?" Vodyanitsa got down to his level, tugging his ear. "You idiot!"

"Ow-" he pulled away, sitting up to face her. "Trust me, I know it was dumb. Mitya wasn't exactly subtle."

"One look at his face and you could tell he learned his lesson," he snickered, reaching out a hand to them each. Vodyanitsa leaned back against the couch's armrest, draping her legs over Odette's lap. It left Alyosha the middle of the couch; he opted to lean against Mitya and face the two performers, folding his legs so he was sitting criss-cross.

"I'm just glad it's over. It was miserable," he sighed, earning a sympathetic kiss on the back of his shoulder. Mitya's scarf wrapped around his waist and pulled him into its owner, which Alyosha easily allowed.

"It was horrible seeing you like that," Mitya said quietly. Alyosha smiled and melted against him.

"Hehe, it's nice that you two got so close," the siren said, "but it seems like we're gonna have to win Alyosha back," she teased, tapping Alyosha’s knee with the tip of her foot.

"Good luck. Now I know how Mitya looks when he's pissed. Wish I could remember more of it," he joked, leaning back against Mitya.

"Don't give them ideas, please," he begged. "I'd rather not find any of my partners on the verge of alcohol poisoning."

"There's plenty of other ways to make you angry," Odette commented, flipping another page. "What if you came home one night and found your silverware missing?"

"Trained by a harbinger and that's what you come up with?" Vodyanitsa crossed her arms.

"How the hell do you know about my antique silverware collection?!" Mitya raised his voice.

"Oh. Nevermind then," Vodyanitsa sat back.

"Odette, stop breaking into my room," Mitya warned her.

"I've only done it once, when I found you dead."

"How long were you in there for?! That collection is in a locked box! Inside a locked closet-"

"Yeah, you seriously need better locks," she said casually, as if it was obvious. 

He narrowed his eyes, using his scarf to grab the book out of her hands and hold it high above her. Alyosha had enough experience with their bickering to immediately move out of their way, standing helplessly next to Vodyanitsa.

They watched as Odette made valiant attempts to pin down Mitya, but got either held back or blocked at each turn. Eventually, the signature glow of stellar-conduct lit up the room as they took turns going at the other.

"I'm convinced this is foreplay for them," Vodyanitsa sighed, sitting properly on the couch and crossing her legs. "Must be a side effect of fatui employment."

Alyosha chuckled and sat by her. "It's admirable that Mitya keeps trying. Maybe he'll win one of these days-"

They suddenly heard Mitya yelp as blast of cryo hit him, blinding him long enough for Odette to get the upper hand. He met their eyes and mouthed a desperate 'help,' before his girlfriend grabbed him by the scarf and threw him on the floor, slamming her heel between his legs and nearly making him infertile.

"Yeah, Alyosha. Any day now."

"You're horrible," he smiled.