I was drunk.

I sat alone in the corner of the living room with an entire bottle of gin to myself, staring blankly out at the party that was now in full swing.

The music was blaring while people danced and stumbled around. A guy and a girl were making out right in front of me, but I tried to pay them no mind. I didn't want to see that.

Not being able to ignore the gross couple, I stood up from the couch, stumbling a bit as I did, and started toward the kitchen. I swayed as I walked and my surroundings were blurry.

Someone stopped me when I got into the kitchen.

"Did you drink that whole bottle?" the voice asked me.

"No," I slurred, squinting my eyes at the person in front of me. It took me a few seconds to realize it was Ian.

"Kinda looks like you did," Ian accused, pointing toward the bottle.

I lifted the bottle and got a good look at it to see that it was empty.

"Oh."

I slid the empty bottle on a clear part of the counter and started walking further into the kitchen, Ian following me.

"Need more," I muttered, surveying the other alcohol lined up on the counter.

"I don't think you do," Ian interjected, grabbing onto my shoulder.

I shrugged him off, reaching out to grab a new bottle. Ian pulled on my shoulder roughly and forced me to put the bottle down and dragged me away from the kitchen. I tripped over my own feet, falling into him. Even in my hazy state, I could feel the annoyance radiating off of him.

He was dragging me along quickly, causing my stomach to stir. I didn't know how much longer I could last without puking. I closed my eyes as he pulled me, already feeling sick.

After a few moments we stopped and Ian pushed me toward someone, causing me to bump into them.

"Someone needs to take care of his drunk ass and it's not going to be me," Ian said to the person I was now leaning against.

"How much has he had?" It was Fox who said that. I would recognize that voice anywhere.

"At least a whole bottle," Ian replied.

I groaned and opened my eyes to see both of them looking down at me. Fox was holding a cup in one hand while his other was holding me steady. Without thinking about it, I swiped the cup from his hand and downed its contents. I let out a whine when I realized it was only water.

"I thought you were drinking tonight," I slurred, poking his chest with my finger.

"I did earlier," Fox told me with a scoff. "I need to sober up to drive, dumbass."

I let out a huff and stepped away from him, looking around the room. I was about to head back toward the kitchen when someone grabbed onto my wrist and caused me to stop.

"Hey, seriously, you've had enough," Fox chastised me, sending me a stern look.

"I need more before I start to 'member," I complained with a hiccup, rubbing my eye with the back of my hand.

"Remember what?" Fox asked. Ian was looking at me like I was crazy.

"I don't know," I said. "And I want to keep it that way."

I tried walking away again, but Ian stood in front of me and shook his head. Before I could argue with him, a wave of nausea blew through me and I doubled over in pain.

"Hey, is he alright?" I heard Josh say from behind me. His voice was lighter than usual and his words were strung together more than normal, telling me he wasn't sober.

"I think I'm going to get him out of here," Fox told him.

"Have you been drinking?" Josh asked in slurred speech.

"Not since a couple hours ago," Fox told him. "I'm fine."

They exchanged a few more words but I didn't hear them. Fox grabbed onto my arm and tossed it over his shoulder while wrapping his arm around my waist. Then, he dragged me out of the house and eventually out to his car, lightly placing me in the front seat.

He didn't speak to me for the entire ride. Or, if he did, I didn't hear him. I had my head resting against the cool glass window, keeping my eyes closed and willing myself not to throw up.

When Fox got to what I assumed was his house, he dragged me out of the car and into the house, tip toeing so we wouldn't be heard. His plan failed because I dragged my feet, stumbling a bit even though he was holding onto me.

"Fox?" a voice called out.

I heard Fox let it a frustrated groan and he stopped walking, pulling me to stand still.

"Are you drunk?" the voice asked in an accusatory tone.

"Fuck off, Wren," Fox snapped. I groaned at his loud voice.

"Do you understand how irresponsible this is?" Wren shot back.

"Just back off, alright? I don't need you to lecture me."

Fox's voice was cold and irritated, a tone I was all too familiar with.

"Did you seriously drive like this?" Wren accused.

"I'm not drunk!"

"Fox," I groaned, tapping my hand lightly on his stomach to get his attention.

"Are you gonna puke?" he asked me.

I just shrugged, eliciting a sigh from Fox. Without saying anything to his brother, Fox started walking again, presumably toward his room. He practically had to drag me up the stairs as I couldn't see the steps, cursing under his breath every time I tripped. Eventually, he just lifted me to get up the last few stairs before setting me back on the ground when we were at the top.

Fox set me down on his bed and left the room. I opened my eyes, but the light in his room was too bright for me, so I shut them again. Within a few minutes, Fox was back in his room carrying a few bottles of water. He set them down on his night stand and handed one to me.

"Drink this," he commanded lightly.

I groaned, covering my face with my hands.

"Elijah," he said, pulling my hands from my face. "Drink this," he demanded more forcefully this time.

"So demanding..." I mumbled.

He forced me to sit up and then opened the water for me, handing me the bottle. I downed the whole bottle within a few seconds. He handed me another water bottle and I shook my head.

Fox gave me an irritated look. "If you don't hydrate, your hangover is going to be worse."

As I sat up more, a wave of nausea came through and I looked to Fox with a panicked expression. I didn't have to say anything for him to know what I meant and he instantly got me up from the bed and rushed me into the bathroom just in time for me to throw up in the toilet.

The sight and smell of my own vomit made me feel like I had to puke more. Fox flushed the toilet while I still sat in front of it dry heaving.

"Are you good?" he asked me, leaning down to get me to look at him.

"I don't know," I replied, my breaths heavy.

He looked at me with an unreadable expression before turning around to grab a face cloth. He wet the cloth and wrung it out before sitting down on the floor next to me and wiping my face with it. I was so out of it, I couldn't even let myself feel embarrassed that he had to be taking care of me.

"Do you think you'll throw up again?" he questioned softly.

"I don't know."

I didn't feel good at all. It felt like I could throw up at any minute.

"Okay, how about I get you a bucket and you use that if you need it so we can go to sleep?"

I felt myself nodding slightly and that was enough for Fox to stand up, grabbing onto my arms to pull me up with him. He led me back to his room, sitting me down on the bed before grabbing me some clothes to change into.

I was having trouble with getting the sweatshirt off, so I looked to Fox for help. He rolled his eyes at me, but helped me anyway, pulling the sweatshirt and the shirt I had on underneath off at the same time. Then he helped me put on the new shirt.

"You're on your own with the pants," Fox told me, stepping away.

I tried unbuttoning the jeans, but my hands weren't cooperating. I couldn't tell if it was my hands that couldn't do it, or if my vision was so messed up that I couldn't see straight.

"For fucks sake," Fox muttered, walking back over to me.

He slapped my hands away from the button on my pants and undid it himself, pulling the zipper down as well. He pulled me up from the bed so I could stand. I got the pants down to my knees before he had me sit back down so he could yank them off of my legs. He helped me put the sweatpants on and then backed away from the bed.

I giggled, letting out a hiccup. "It's not the first time you've undressed me."

Fox shook his head. "You're like a toddler."

I was too drunk to defend myself or think of a witty response. He left the room briefly and came back with a bucket, placing it down beside me and telling me to use it if I needed to throw up. Then he shut the light off and climbed over me to get to the other side of the bed.

"Thanks Foxy," I said, leaning over to place a kiss on his cheek.

"I swear to God if you throw up on me, it'll be the last thing you do," Fox threatened, grabbing me by the shoulder. "Lie on your side."

Fox moves me to position me on my side so that I was facing away from him. And soon after, I was asleep.

***

My head was pounding.

When I opened my eyes, the sun shining through the blinds caused them to burn and the sensation when straight to my head.

I groaned and turned over so that my face was buried in the pillow just as the bedroom door opened and someone walked in.

"Wake up," Fox commanded, setting a glass down on the nightstand.

"I can't," I mumbled into the pillow.

"I can't understand you," Fox told me, grabbing my shoulder so that I would turn over.

"I said I can't," I croaked in a raspy voice, squinting my eyes to look at him.

"Too bad."

Fox handed me some Advil and gestures toward the glass of water he brought in. I quickly took the pills along with some water, sitting up in the bed. I grabbed my head in my hands, willing it to stop throbbing.

"So, I thought you didn't drink," Fox said in a questioning tone, raising his eyebrow.

"I don't usually," I mumbled.

Fox scoffed, sitting down next to me on the bed. "I could figure that much out. Why did you last night?"

I didn't want to answer him, but knowing Fox he would pester me until I did.

"And don't act like there wasn't a reason, you told me last night that you didn't want to remember something," Fox added in a warning tone.

I groaned. Now, I had to tell him.

"My mom called me yesterday," I admitted with a sigh. "Said she wants me to go over there, that she wants to fix us. Whatever that means."

Fox looked at me with a thoughtful expression, his eyes boring into mine. He looked as if he had been up for a while, no trace of tiredness on his face.

"Okay? Is that a bad thing?"

"I don't know," I murmured. "Probably."

"Why?"

"Because she probably just wants to see if I changed my mind about being gay," I told him with a scowl.

"You're just assuming that," Fox argued. "I bet she misses you."

Yeah, she missed who I was before I came out. She didn't miss the real me. She didn't even know that real me.

"So, why did that make you drink an entire bottle of gin?" Fox pressed further.

"God, Fox. Just leave it alone," I groaned, rubbing my temples with my hands to try to ease the ache.

"I think I deserve some type of explanation since I took care of you last night," Fox shot back.

I let out a frustrated sigh. "I'm sorry you had to do that. It won't happen again."

Fox rolled his eyes. "I don't care about having to take care of you. I care that you decided to drink to deal with whatever emotions you were feeling. That's dangerous."

I was taken aback by what Fox had said. Even when I had friends before I came out, none of them actually cared for me in this way. They would get drunk and do drugs like they were invincible and nobody tried to stop them. Many of them even tried encouraging me to do those things with them.

"It's okay to drink a little to have some fun, but to use it as a way to cope is gonna get you in trouble," Fox added in a stern tone.

"Did I do anything embarrassing?" I worriedly asked, glancing at him through my squinting eyes.

Fox shook his head. "You were just out of it. Like a zombie."

I nodded. At least I didn't go crazy and start stripping on a table or something. The few times I had been drunk, I was unpredictable.

"You should probably call Josh," Fox told me. "He was pretty worried about you last night."

"I will when my head stops pounding," I replied, continuing to rub my temples.

We were silent for a few moments before Fox decided to speak up.

"So, are you going to go?" he asked me, tilting his head to the side.

There was no judgement in his tone, just wonder and curiosity.

"To my mom's?"

He nodded.

"I don't know," I answered with a shrug. "Should I?"

"Would it make you feel any better? If she accepted you?" Fox questioned softly.

I thought about it for a moment. Deep in my mind, I knew there was no way she had changed her opinion about my sexuality. She had always been a devout Christian and even told me that there was no way she could have

given birth to a homosexual. But more on the surface, I wanted to believe she could accept me. I wanted her to love me.

"I guess," I finally responded. "But I doubt she will. Like I said, she's probably just checking in to see if I changed."

"Then what's the worst that could happen?" Fox replied. "She makes you leave her house when she finds out you're still gay?"

"So you think I should go?" I asked for clarification.

"If you want a relationship with your mom, I think it's worth a shot," Fox confessed with a shrug.

I slowly nodded, pondering on whether an agreed with him.

I looked up at Fox and saw the way the sun shined in the room from the window behind him, making him glow. His care for me was something I had never received, but it was something I was glad I had. He was no longer like a flame trying to keep me away, it was more like he was a light it my life.

"Hey Fox," I said, grabbing his attention. "Thanks."

He rolled his eyes and shoved my shoulder lightly. "You don't have to thank me."

I did and I would always thank him.

**