The bed creaked as Misha buried his face in his pillows, pulling the pile of blankets over his shoulders. His head felt light, or maybe heavy, he wasn't sure which. Either way, he needed to lie down now, or he feared he might throw up. Even while being muddle-headed, he knew better than to empty his stomach on the floor—otherwise, he'd need to clean up the mess the next day, whether a hangover was out to kill him or not.
No way in hell would he leave vomit rot on his floor.
He did it once, and it had been a pain to scrape the dry thing off the wooden planks. Admittedly, he noticed the stain days later, too, but still. On the bright side, he hadn't puked on the carpeted floor of the living room, or his cheapskate of a landlord would have wrung his neck.
It was always painful to hear the old man scold him when he was hungover. The throbbing headache it gave him each time…! It was enough to make him want to overdose on hangover medicine and glasses of water before going to bed, even while dead drunk.
The reasoning was: maybe his head wouldn't try to murder him if he gobbled up enough tablets. Ah shit, it's been so long. I forgot to take some hangover med for tomorrow. Oh, well, fuck it. Too late.
"Gosh, my brain seems about to spill out of my skull," Misha giggled as he rolled on his back to watch his partner lift the blanket and remove his socks. "What the fuck did Stephan put in that eggnog? I don't remember being this, erm, what's the word again…?" A frown creased his brow as Misha tried to remember, but couldn't. "Well, whatever. It's not important."
Misha narrowed his eyes at Gabriel and asked with a suspicious tone and a hiccup, "And why do you look so…? Y'know? Sober? Oh, and handsome. Did I tell you I love your face? Can't believe I demolished it twice in the past…"
Not really caring whether Gabriel answered him or not, Misha sat up and stretched an arm to grab his collar, just to then yank him into bed. Their teeth knocked as he stole a kiss. Tastes like eggnog. And the kiss also had an iron taste to it, as Misha busted his lips against his partner's front teeth, but his mouth felt too numb for him to realize he had hurt himself.
"Blood?" He frowned. "Why does it taste like blood? I broke your nose in the past, not busted your lips—oh, right. I did that too, sorry."
"Don't worry about it," Gabriel gently coaxed. "It's all in the past, and I don't have any memories of your wrongdoings."
"But I remember them…!" Misha scowled. "And you do, too, in that lifetime. You're still alive in that lifetime. It wasn't rewritten… It's so unfair!"
"Is it, now?"
Gabriel tried to put some space between them, but Misha didn't allow it, wrapping his arms around his neck and clinging to him like a koala. He didn't care about why his partner was trying to distance himself; he refused to be apart from his warmth, even for a second.
"My self from that life was so frigging dumb," Misha growled, biting on Gabriel's ear. "He couldn't see things past his nose! No, of course he couldn't. I had to die and almost lose everything again to realize the truth! How stupid."
"Thank God we went upstairs…"
His partner's voice was a whisper, but since Misha was hellbent on invading Gabriel's personal space, he heard him crystal clear.
"Whyyyy…?"
"Because you're saying things you shouldn't say in front of your parents," Gabriel patiently explained, propping himself atop Misha on his elbows.
The thing was, Misha didn't like the space between their lower bodies, and he pulled the man down, regardless of the weight that would press on his stomach. He wanted his partner to hug him close, and he made sure to convey his feelings, wrapping his legs around Gabriel's waist despite the blankets.
"Oh, right, my parents!" Misha chuckled after a moment, as if his brain needed a few seconds to process Gabriel's words. "D'you know how great a father Alexis is this time around? He's not a frigging drunkard who beats his son every hour of the day! And mom's alive, she's not dead! Alive and kicking. Masha, too, is alive. Everyone is safe and sound. They shouldn't be, but they are!"
"Shh, Misha, be less loud."
"I'm not loud," Misha grunted, "you're loud!"
"Fine, fine, I'm the loud one." Gabriel conceded, his tone helpless. "How about sleeping now?"
"No! Not yet!"
Struggling to switch position and drag Gabriel under him, Misha huffed and puffed, his weak limbs barely responding to his commands. In his drunken state, it was pretty much impossible to force a relatively sober Gabriel to move an inch, that was, unless his partner played along.
Eventually, Gabriel gave in, like he always did.
It didn't take long for Misha to clumsily but happily straddle Gabriel's thighs once he was under him. His partner gently grabbed his waist, holding him in place—right now, Misha didn't have the best sense of balance, and he was swaying left to right. One wrong move, and he would fall out of bed, tumbling down headfirst.
"But y'know, sometimes I feel guilty."
"Guilty?" Gabriel repeated, gently stroking his hips with his thumbs. "Why?"
"'Cause of Jake's wife." Misha pursed his lips. "She's dead 'cause of my choice, 'cause I saved my mom from being run over. He won't get to marry the woman he loves this time, or have children with her. He says it's fine, but…" Misha pressed his forehead against Gabriel's, his eyes watering. "I'm not the brightest, I know, but I'm not dumb either. Even today, it's obvious he thought of, erm, I forgot his wife's name… But anyway, of her and his kids. Stephan can't ever replace them."
"Stephan doesn't aim to replace them," Gabriel rubbed his nose against Misha's, the gesture intimate and comforting. "He simply wants to be there for Jake and supports him. The point is, it's possible to love many people throughout a life, and in different ways. Don't worry too much about my brother."
"Shut up." Misha chomped on Gabriel's nose. "I'm gonna worry if I want to. I'll worry for Jake, I'll worry for Tristan, I'll worry for my sister, and I'll worry for you, too."
"If you worry for everyone all the time, you'll get a stomach ulcer in the long run. Do you want to spend time in the hospital yet again?"
The threat did wonders, and Misha yelped. He had spent more than enough time in the hospital in this timeline, and he refused to step into one again unless absolutely necessary. His childhood and a part of his teenage years consisted of him being in and out of the hospital and meeting perplexed doctors who couldn't figure out why fevers kept plaguing his body. His immune system had also gone down the drain during that period of his life, and it had been hell to handle the constant colds, flus, and whatnot.
"I don't wanna! Hospitals are boring!"
A snort, and Misha let himself collapse on top of Gabriel's chest. His arms were jelly, and propping himself up was a no-go. Too much effort.
"I don't regret it, though," Misha yawned, his eyelids starting to grow heavy. "A child's body is not adapted for an adult's mind, and I know it now. I know it very well. It was hell for a few years, but that's a price I'd be willing to pay a second time if, huh, I had to. Gosh, why is thinking so difficult? Think for me, Gaby."
"That's sadly one of the rare things I can't do for you," Gabriel chuckled, one of his arms moving up to stroke his back. "Maybe you should sleep."
"No!" Misha vehemently refused. "It's so rare for us to have some alone time. Let me enjoy it. I wanna do smexy stuff. We couldn't do shit at your birthday 'cause things were too chaotic, and I'm getting frustrated here. Why can't I touch you whenever I want to, even now that I'm an adult? That's criminal. Fuck, I had to wait for years not to make you a criminal. Even though I'm older than you."
"Being mentally older doesn't make you physically older," Gabriel countered. "I still find your current appearance a little too young to my taste, adult or not."
"You just wait!" Misha sneered, sluggishly poking his partner's chest. "I'm gonna get gray hair way before you! And wrinkles, too! Wait, no, maybe not. You age frigging fast, but I don't. You already had white hair when I went back in time, and you were just in your early thirties."
Misha let out a whiny sigh, then mumbled, "Tsk, you gotta start dying your hair earlier in this life. I don't wanna date an old man."
"This old man is mentally younger than you, though," Gabriel gently teased, his laughter making his chest reverberate under Misha's cheek.
Hm, it feels warm. I like it. The thought crossed his muddled mind. Misha wanted to say something, but the drowsiness was slowly getting the better of him, and saliva pooled in his mouth. For an instant, he forgot how to speak.
"Gaby," he heard himself mutter after a while, "I'm still glad I turned the clock back. I'm glad to be with you in this life." Slowly, he closed his eyes and said the words he had yet to say aloud. "I love you."
"I love you, too."
Gabriel's voice was muffled in his sleepiness, and the kiss planted on his temple felt feather-light. Still, it drew a contented smile out of Misha.
So happy, was his last thought before falling asleep.