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CHARACTERS: cillian quinn, noah hill.
LOCATION: 15th floor kitchen.
WARNINGS: tl;dr introspective bs, potentially a tw for discussion of parental alcoholism.
SUMMARY: noah was drinking, cillian goes to collect him. idk. i really hate writing log headers, sorry.
NOTES: backdated. set after this ic inbox thread.

[ it's not that he's against liquor. doesn't drink it himself, of course, but cillian's always been perfectly all right with people having a drink or two around him. spent months working on a still for the tranquility, in fact, in the hope that he could capitalize off one of his random skills. he'd given it up as a bust when the pirates had stolen it, dismantled most of it for parts. there's plenty of booze on the ship already, if you ask nice. better to keep his hands busy with keeping the ship squared. ]

[ so it's not that he's against liquor. but he still feels a little uncomfortable, uneasy, coming to collect noah from the kitchen on the 15th floor, hands deep in the pockets of his hoodie. ]

All right then?

[ he greets his boyfriend idly, though he's more concerned than the casual tone lets on. tries to keep the passive aggressive snippiness out of his tone. cillian doesn't like to be passive aggressive. he prefers aggressive aggressive. ]

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[He'd thought about not contacting him, because there was an itch at the back of his skull that told him he might be in trouble. But Noah's inhibitions were lowered enough that what he probably shouldn't do became the one thing that he wanted to do. Plus there was just enough sobriety left in him to worry that he might take a wrong turn somewhere between here and his room. He needed a designated...escort.

The path to hell is paved with good intentions. Noah's sitting at a table and thinking about that when Cillian comes in.]

Yes, I think so.

[Noah's not used to having someone else take care of him; he doesn't much like it. He likes the way his mouth tastes even less.]

Are we going straight back?

I've not got particular use for anything here right now.

[ meaning, the kitchen. or... mostly meaning the kitchen. he comes over, pauses a moment before he decides it's probably for the best if he takes noah's hand, and draws out his own to do so. ]

We're going straight back. C'mon.

[Noah grimaces. Yep, trouble. He takes Cillian's hand and draws himself together enough to stand up straight and to not stumble with his first step.]

I hope you weren't busy. I didn't take you away from anything...

[He purses his lips. What's the word that he's looking for?]

I didn't take you away from anything, did I?

[ "important", maybe. ]

Nah.

[ cillian shakes his head. that at least is the god's honest. he wasn't doing much, reading and dozing, so it hadn't been a hardship to come drag noah's sorry arse home. ]

So how's Andy getting on, then.

[That's the one!!]

How do you think?

[Although, maybe now isn't the best time to be asking that question, when Cillian might be idly fantasizing about making his own boyfriend disappear.]

We should have him over, make sure he doesn't get lonely.

[There's a long silence between them after that, and Noah hates it. Even the alternative seems better.]

Go on then, yell if you feel like it.

[ cillian lifts a shoulder as if to say he isn't fussed. ]

Not in the corridors.

[ which isn't exactly a promise of no yelling. though he doesn't feel like getting worked up about it, either, even if it's cruel to be so obviously angry without doing anything about it. ]

Besides, what's there to yell about? It's your choice to drink with whoever. Not my problem.

I see. No witnesses.

[Is that funny? Noah wants to laugh, something that he normally does with his entire body and not an ounce of restraint. But for now? Maybe restraint is the right call.]

It was more a...condition than a choice.

[Oh hey, he got the right word this time. It's a shame he had to stumble after saying it. His hand grips Cillian's a little tighter.]

Sorry.

[ cillian turns that over in his mind for a moment, examining the facts and the apology, both of which seem sincere. ]

Don't worry about it, man.

[ he mumbles, though even he doesn't know whether he means it or whether he's just trying to avoid any alcohol-fuelled conflict. ]

Come on, this way.

[ he tugs noah's hand like he's a little kid. ]

But you're worried about it.

[Even in an inebriated state, he can tell that Cillian's not himself. Though to be honest, sometimes Noah's not even sure that he knows what that is.]

Or you're worried about something.

[Noah lets Cillian guide him as he looks his way.]

Am I wrong?

[ cillian's lower lip curls. he wants to say i dunno what you're talking about but lying to noah seems unproductive, even just a white lie. so instead he just shrugs. ]

You're drunk. We'll talk about this later.

I'm sober enough to listen.

[Noah nudges him. And then again. And then really risks getting Cillian's Irish up with a third time.]

Jesus, Noah.

[ cillian snaps, and then scowls at him, elbows back a little too hard. ]

I don't want to talk about it, yeah? Fuck off.

[Noah stumbles again, lets go of Cillian's hand.]

Thought you didn't want me to fuck off. Changed your mind, did you?

[Noah rakes a hand back through his hair. He hates conflict so much, but his inhibitions are so much lower right now.]

Or is it my fault for forgetting that you only talk about things as long as they don't give too much of you away?

[ cillian's shoulders hunch for a moment in a cringe. the edge of cruelty in his boyfriend's voice knifes him. ]

No, no no no, come on.

[ he still sounds angry, but it's bitten back, something in his eyes wounded-animal hurt. he can't do this while noah's drunk, he can't. ]

Let's not. Let's please not. Let's just get the fuck home, then we can talk about whatever you want.

[ that's a lie, he fully intends to flee. ]

[He presses his hand against his eyes and pushes until he sees little bursts of light. Even drunk, that look is enough to make him agree to anything. But it brings them to the same end, Noah worrying about what Cillian's holding back while hypocritically doing the same. They have to find a way off this ride before one of them ends up too sick.

Or maybe that's just the alcohol talking.]

Swear it.

[Noah drops his hand to stare at him.]

Swear that we'll talk. Before one of us is gone and it's too late.

[ cillian's jaw shifts uncomfortably, caught. it's obvious now that he hadn't intended to follow through. ]

That's a little melodramatic, isn't it?

[ maybe elsewhere, but probably not on the tranquility. cillian's lips thin. if his choice is between a conversation in their rooms or elsewhere, he'll pick their rooms. ]

Yeah, all right. I'll swear it for you. Cross my heart.

[ he draws a cross over his chest. ]

Ask Andy.

[Because it's only melodramatic until they're in the gravity couches and closing their eyes. Noah watches him cross his heart before pushing away from the wall.]

Thank you. This way, right?

[Or was it the other? Noah purses his lips before sheepishly reaching for Cillian's hand again.]

This'll do.

[ cillian lets him take it, and then grips it back, a bit tighter than he really means to. leads the way onwards, not long now. though he may be dragging his heels a bit, knowing he only has until the bedroom, that the reprieve of silence won't last. ]

[ they pass by their closest bathroom. cillian leaves a cup in there, sometimes, and he leaves noah waiting for a moment while he ducks in and gets some water. then it's only a few steps to their room. ]

And here we are.

[ he offers the cup to noah. ]

[Noah sits down on the edge of their bed with a soft groan.]

I feel poisoned.

[He takes the cup, downs the water in a single gulp. But there's still an unpleasant burn in his stomach.]

S'what I get, right?

Right, yeah.

[ the response is absent, contains no gloating. cillian lingers in the doorway, though he does let it close behind him. he looks uncertain about what he's going to do next. ]

I'll let you have the room to yourself, then.

Or you could stay.

[He tries to keep it from sounding too much like he's giving Cillian permission when he doesn't need permission.]

I won't force you to. But I want you to.

[ cillian jiggles a knee, visibly torn. but even like this, he can't run away from noah. that's always been the point: no matter how fucking terrified he gets, whatever they have is worth it. ]

I'll stay.

[ he takes a step forward, runs a hand through noah's hair with the kind of hesitancy he should be reserving for a feral cat. ]

Thanks, beautiful.

[Noah reaches to pull him closer. He wants to ruck up the front of his shirt and press his flushed face against Cillian's cool skin, but he contents himself with just breathing him in instead.]

And that isn't the beer goggles or what have you talking.

I wouldn't believe you were it not for the fact that you call me beautiful ten times daily.

[ and he can't possibly be drunk all the time. cillian rests a hand lightly at the back of noah's skull, which feels strangely delicate under his palm. ]

Were you drinking beer?

I think that's how it started.

[At some point it must've gotten stronger.]

I've never given in to peer pressure, even at the clubs in the states. I just didn't want him to feel any more alone than he already did.

[Noah shakes his head and pulls back.]

Excuses. I'm making excuses. I could've thought of another way, waited for him to pass out and talked to him then.

[ cillian swallows, long fingers crooking absently. ]

I still eat bacon, you're allowed drink. You don't need to make excuses.

[ he's not angry, just — scared. but it's hard to be scared of noah like this, cradling him against his stomach. ]

But I don't want to.

[Drink, that is. And that's his greatest disappointment, that he allowed himself to be someone that he's not. That for days and weeks to come, Cillian will wonder if he's going to have to do this all over again.]

...There's so much fat and sodium in bacon.

[ despite himself, cillian cracks a smile. ]

Which is why it tastes so great.

[ he pushes at noah's shoulders, but only getting him to back off so he can come down to his level, dropping to a knee to help him start getting undressed for bed. ]

Shoes first. How's your stomach feeling.

[Noah falls back onto his elbows, and if it feels strange to let Cillian take care of him...well, he's getting over the guilt of it.]

It's in a terrible state. It keeps knotting up and doing flips. But it always does that when I look at you.

Ohhhh, come off it.

[ cillian laughs, embarrassed and delighted, and knocks at his shin with a fist. ]

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