Work Text:
The house was humid. Not to the point where anyone would complain but it was definitely noticed. Zach hadn’t been feeling great as of recent— he felt pretty shitty. Sure, living in a shared home with all his buddies was great but it did come with a price.
Arguments would spiral over something as petty as someone taking the last beer, the house would be trashed every other night due to parties or whatever, just everything dumb that teenagers going onto adults would do.. and Zach just felt so separated from all that.
He was always one of the more— grounded and serious people in the group. Along with Jeff and Mick. The other guys were just wild and crazy or whatever you want to call their personalities. So, it was clear that not all of them would always be on the same page.
Right now, Cory and Stamper were having an argument over something, Zach wasn’t paying attention to what was happening anymore. Jeff had already walked out, grumbling that this house was going to make him lose his shit. Mick was out working, so, that left Chris.
The Irishman was laughing at them while simultaneously leaning on Zach and shaking him. “Dude, Zach! This is comedy gold!”
Zach forced a small smile and chuckle as he watched the two argue. He needed a break from this.. “I gotta take a piss, I’ll be back.”
“Daww, c’mon!” Chris whined “Hurry up though, you’re gonna miss the good parts.”
And with that, Zach left to go “pee”. He trudged over to the bathroom and locked the door before clutching the sink. He stared at himself in the mirror, his head pounding relentlessly and his eyes twitching under the harsh, sterile bathroom light. Ever since this morning he’d been feeling lightheaded and weak, he didn’t know why. Throughout the week he’d been having these feelings of sickness but he wasn’t sick in any way.
Monday he felt like he had a stomach bug.
Tuesday he physically couldn’t get out of bed.
Just the bullshit Zach was completely sick of at this point.
He took his glasses off, putting his head in his hands as he slumped down by the cabinets. “I can’t fucking live in this shithole anymore.”
Zach groaned as he looked up, opening a cabinet and scavenging for ibuprofen or some fucking headache pill. He grabbed the first one he saw, stood up, and took it— dry-throated and everything. Zach coughed into his fist, blinking hard as the pounding behind his eyes only seemed to worsen. The pill caught in his throat for a second before finally sliding down, leaving a bitter taste that made him grimace.
"...Jesus."
He splashed cold water over his face, hoping it'd wake him up. It didn't. If anything, the room swayed a little harder. He grabbed the edge of the sink until the dizziness passed.
Outside, Cory and Stamper were still yelling.
"You don't know what you're talking about, you fucking spaz!"
"I literally watched you do it! Why the hell are you trying to fucking lie about it?!"
Their voices echoed through the hallway.
Zach let out a tired sigh. Can't even be sick in peace.
A knock came at the bathroom door.
"Zach?" Chris's voice was muffled through the wood. "...You actually taking a piss in there or are ya jerkin’ off?"
Zach rubbed his eyes and forced his voice to sound normal.
"I wouldn’t jerk off in the bathroom, Chris. I’m fine."
There was a pause.
"...You don't sound fine."
"Just give me a minute, goddamnit.."
Another pause.
Chris didn't answer immediately, which was unusual. Normally he'd crack some dumb joke about Zach dying on the toilet or something equally stupid.
Instead, Zach heard footsteps pacing outside the door.
“Well could ya let me in? I have to piss so let’s put your emotional crisis aside for now.”
Zach huffed quietly, unlocking the door and swinging it open for Chris to come in. The Irishman walked in and Zach left— not before Chris called out to him.
“I never told you to leave, Hadel.”
“I’m not gonna sit there and watch you whip your dick out and piss.”
Chris groaned and walked out the bathroom, grabbing Zach by the wrist and yanking him into the bathroom before blocking the door. Zach lost his balance and fell onto Chris, their bodies flush on each others.
Fuck. There goes that feeling again. That dumb lovesick feeling that Zach always had around Chris. It was something Zach hated, he never liked being emotional in any way, shape, or form— it wasn’t his strong suit. He quickly got his shit together and shoved himself off of Chris, sending himself flying and falling into the bathtub.
The curtains tangled around him, causing his fall to be even more embarrassing as now he was covered in shower curtains and he looked less than put together in that tub. His face flushed in embarrassment as he just sat there. Why did he even do that..?
“Goddamnit Zach..! What the fuck is your deal?”
“Nothing, I pushed too hard on accident— didn’t mean it.”
“You clearly meant—“
“Shut up. I didn’t mean anything by that.”
Zach scrambled up and tried to leave. Chris, being tall and agile, grabbed Zach and placed him on the lid of the toilet. The American struggled against the Irishman’s grip. He was partially aroused by the man handling but not enough to register it. His pain was still hitting him like a truck.
“Can we just talk about this? Stop running from your problems like that’s gonna fix anything.“
“Let me go! I’m not running from—“
Chris suddenly slapped him across the face and immediately kissed him after. Zach’s eyes widened, his pulse skyrocketed as he leaned into it. Their lips clashed together, teeth knocking into others as their lips and breaths tangled together in the hot, humid tension. Chris pulled apart and stared at Zach, punching him square in the nose and jaw before walking out.
“Talk to me when you’re not being a pussy.”
“…what the fuck?”
Zach held his jaw, his tongue starting to bleed from the hit as he stumbled up. His nose bled, a sleek trail of blood slipping down to his upper lip. He spat up blood into the sink, his headache feeling worse as the seconds ticked that felt like agonizing hours.