Status: ♂♂
Handgun
so it's suicide
The long-suffering look Ben gives him before he walks out the door makes Gabriel taste bile in his throat.
He comes back smelling like piss, something alcoholic that burns Gabriel nose, makes him gag. Ben falls into him and he can practically taste it on his breath, his clothes sweat-stained, bloodstained. He doesn't look hurt, but Gabriel checks anyway.
“Fuck, Ben. Fuck.”
He can barely stand by the time Gabriel pushes him into the bathroom. He's desperate, desperate when he thanks god his roommate is asleep in the other room, thanks god that Ben remembered his way back to his place.
He's desperate when he thanks god that Ben made it any place at all.
Ben shivers and sobs when Gabriel turns the water on, cold against his burning skin. He scratches down Gabriel's arms when Gabriel climbs into the tub next to him, scared he’ll drown if he doesn't, scared of a lot of things.
Ben convulses against him. Gabriel presses his nose to his hair and holds on, just holds.
He cries into Gabriel's neck as the water rushes down onto them, soaking through their jeans, their hair, cooling the pink of Ben's cheeks. His eyes, red-rimmed and bleary, fill and spill over again and again.
"Gabe..."
“Shh,” Gabriel whispers, and Ben wracks harder against him, buries his face in Gabriel's neck, doesn’t try to hide it the way he does when he’s sober.
“Shh,” Gabriel says again, and he doesn’t cry with him. He doesn’t.
He comes back smelling like piss, something alcoholic that burns Gabriel nose, makes him gag. Ben falls into him and he can practically taste it on his breath, his clothes sweat-stained, bloodstained. He doesn't look hurt, but Gabriel checks anyway.
“Fuck, Ben. Fuck.”
He can barely stand by the time Gabriel pushes him into the bathroom. He's desperate, desperate when he thanks god his roommate is asleep in the other room, thanks god that Ben remembered his way back to his place.
He's desperate when he thanks god that Ben made it any place at all.
Ben shivers and sobs when Gabriel turns the water on, cold against his burning skin. He scratches down Gabriel's arms when Gabriel climbs into the tub next to him, scared he’ll drown if he doesn't, scared of a lot of things.
Ben convulses against him. Gabriel presses his nose to his hair and holds on, just holds.
He cries into Gabriel's neck as the water rushes down onto them, soaking through their jeans, their hair, cooling the pink of Ben's cheeks. His eyes, red-rimmed and bleary, fill and spill over again and again.
"Gabe..."
“Shh,” Gabriel whispers, and Ben wracks harder against him, buries his face in Gabriel's neck, doesn’t try to hide it the way he does when he’s sober.
“Shh,” Gabriel says again, and he doesn’t cry with him. He doesn’t.