I woke up to a clash to my front door. I sat up in fight-or-flight mode, looking around in panic. Then the clamoring turned to a light knock. Then the light knock turned to a booming, thunderous bang.

I stood to quickly, concluding in me falling on my ass after wiping out on my carpet. Muttering curses under my breath, I walked to the front door. On the other side of it, through the window, I could see a familiar shock of blonde hair leaning against my door. I sighed, walking closer.

As I opened the door, the elfish blonde boy fell into my arms, head snapping up. He was holding a bottle of Jack Daniel's in his left hand, a beer in his other. When he saw me, he grinned. "Hi, Adam." He said obnoxiously, long and drawn out.

"Tommy? What are you doing here?" I asked.

He pouted. "Do you not want me here our something?"

God, that pout. Those lips, so plump, so soft. He had them coated in red, glossy, sparkly lipstick, that was slightly smeared up onto his cheek. He looked so adorable.

"How did you even get here?" I questioned, closing the door. I began walking to my kitchen and he stumbled along in tow.

"I walked."

"You walked?" He nodded, his blonde hair falling into his gorgeous brown eyes. He blew it out of his face, failing. I turned on the kitchen light and he groaned as my eyes protested. "Did you fall?" He frowned. "Did you?"

He nodded slowly. "But only once." I looked at him, not believing him for a second. "Maybe twice." I sighed, grabbing him by his hips and lifting him. He giggled loudly and I shook my head.

I set him on my counter next to the steel sink. "How drunk are you?" I asked him. He held his fingers together, leaving a small space in between. My lips curved, forming a small smile. I went to move his hair out of his face when he grabbed my wrist.

"You're gonna hurt me." I shook my head.

"Never." I murmured. He looked at me, unsure. His hair was still in his face slightly, his lipstick had smeared more, and I noticed he had eyeliner that had wiped onto his cheek. "Do you trust me, Tommy?" He nodded.

"Yeah, of course." He voice sounded small and girly. I grinned. He let go of my wrist and I lifted his hair out of his eyes, looking at his forehead.

It was scratched, scuffed up in a few different areas. I shook my head. "How many times did you actually fall, gorgeous?" He giggled.

"A lot. Too many. Not enough. I don't know." I kissed his torn up skin, making him laugh again.

"Why are you drinking on a Tuesday night, anyway? Taking the rock star lifestyle to another level?" He shook his head as I let go of his soft, almost white hair. It fell in those deep, dark eyes of his.

"Fight. Kicked out." He stated, a slur in his tone. He lifted the Jack bottle to his lips, chugging. I grabbed it, stopping him.

"Kicked out of what?"

"My apartment." He mumbled, then he stood, almost falling again. I caught him by his shoulders, correcting his stance. "It's my fault."

"How did it happen?"

"I don't wanna talk 'bout it." I sighed. "Do you love me, Adam?"

He asked this, facing the microwave in the kitchen, staring blankly at the bright numbers. I stared at his back, his plain t-shirt. "Tommy. Of course I do. Why would you even ask?"

"That's...not what I meant." I gawked at him.

"W-What would a cute little straight boy like you want to know for, anyway?" He shook his head. "What's this all about?"

"Just answer my question."

"Just answer mine." He was shaking. I knew where this was headed, so I stopped him before he could say another thing. "You're drunk."

"That's irrelevant." Tommy snapped.

"I'm taking you home."

"I don't have a home! Did you not hear me? I don't have a home because my roommates don't want to live with a fag, okay?" He turned on his heel, looking at me.

His eyes, I noticed for the first time, were bloodshot. He was crying, his fringe of hair tucked behind that many-times-pierced ear. "I-"

"God, I knew it was a fucking mistake to come here." He muttered, stumbling past me and toward the door. I grabbed his arm, but he elbowed me away. "Don't touch me. I hate you. I hate everything about you."

"Why are you doing this right now?" I asked quietly.

"Because, Adam, you fucking...you're fucking up my life."

"I'm fucking up your life?" I screamed. "You've ruined everything!"

"I didn't ask you to do any of the shit you did. You did it anyway."

"You offered."

"Because you asked. I felt bad for you. So pathetic for attention." He was staring at me, and before I could take in the cocky look in his eyes, my hand swung and hit his cheek.

He stumbled into the wall, then stood upright. "You're a bitch."

"At least I fucking know what I want, you pathetic excuse for a human."

"Get the fuck of out of my house. Now!" I yelled.

"Yeah, see you at fucking practice tomorrow, asshole." He told me, then slammed the door and stomped down my driveway. I shook my head, seeing the Jack Daniel's bottle in his fist.