Things You Said When You Were Drunk
In hindsight, he should have known better than to drink at the party. A piece of him was utterly baffled as to how he was practically nonfunctional when Marie was still absolutely upright. How someone so small could hold their liquor so well eluded him. When they were younger, partners for the first time in the DWMA and sneaking swigs of cheap, dishwater beer Stein despised, she joked that it was her Viking blood: she still had that ancestry, just condensed into a 4 foot 8 woman who weighed less than what he lifted with one arm for training.
She could be on to something. He knew it wasn't weapon blood that altered alcohol's effects on the body, considering Spirit couldn't even handle three mojitos before he was sprawled out on the nearest table, shooting bedroom eyes to the nearest creature with a pulse.
And, sometimes, without one.
Not that Stein was too much better in his current state, swaying and grinning with Marie shaking her head, slowly herding him in the general direction of a bed. They'd been lucky enough to get dropped off at the lab via Naigus's superior driving skills, as well as her aversion to anything alcoholic, and so they didn't have too far to go from his (their?) porch.
And– oh.
Oh, no, the world was spinning.
He groaned, almost pitching forward as his body refused to cooperate. He likely would have eaten the filthy floors of his own lab if it weren't for Marie's soft hands coming to his shoulders.
Even with the support, he slumped over. One of his palms, likely from habit, tried to come to his bolt.
And missed.
By a good few inches.
Instead, his fingers hit his hair and for a single second, he found himself confused.
It took his brain an embarrassingly long time to come to life, and after a moment, he finally located his bolt and managed to click it back.
No good, the world was still swimmy. With a noise of annoyance from the back of his throat, he immediately allowed his arm to fall back down and atop one of Marie's shoulders as she adjusted her hold on him.
He should have known better.
But with the Kishin defeated and the madness wavelength contained, as well as Medusa's influence entirely eradicated from his life, he finally felt like he could…relax.
Besides which, the party sending off Azusa and Justin so they could go back to their stations in East Asia and Europe was so full of relief, so safe, he wanted to unwind for once. And, also, maybe to forget that Marie would be getting the same kind of party.
The Kishin was defeated. He was stable. The kids were healed and Death City reconstructed. Crona's trial came and went, leaving the child with Maka.
Marie had no reason to stay.
Death, it was so stupid of him. After Spirit threw his guts up in a grand total of six potted plants, Azusa ending up sprawled on the floor, and Sid slung over Naigus's shoulder, Marie had finally noticed that her own Meister had ended up having a conversation with a wall after somehow losing his glasses.
That was when she decided that he was too drunk to function, requesting a ride so that they could come back home.
To the house.
Back to the lab.
Back home.
Marie sighed as she helped him up his stairs, and his feet felt clumsy. What was he expecting, drinking Spirit under the table while Marie sipped from the only cup she'd had all evening? Of course he'd end up plastered and she'd have to make sure he wouldn't accidentally maim himself via lack of hand-eye coordination. Good going, on his part. That was the way to…
To what? Forget? Convince her to stay?
Stupid.
His head settled atop Marie's and he burrowed his nose in her hair.
Marie. She smelled like sunshine and wine-cooler.
It wasn't as gross as he would have previously assumed. Wine-cooler, that was. Not Marie. Never Marie. Marie was great. Marie was good. His Marie was too good.
Eventually, they managed to make their way to the room he rarely used, where he actually had a bed that he suspected contained more dust than stuffing. Marie deposited him down atop his mattress, and he flopped to his side, rolling to his back and closing his eyes to the sudden rush in his head that the action caused. She must have been shaking her head, because her voice, softened so as to prevent any headaches on his part, rang out.
"Honestly, Stein," she started, likely rolling her eye and folding her arms. "Whiskey?"
He only hummed, cracking an eye open. From what he could make out of her blurry shape, she was doing exactly as he predicted. He tipped his lips up at how well he knew her. She threw her arms out in exasperation.
"Just get some sleep, okay?" she asked, and he nodded, just once, in agreement.
But he panicked when she turned around. Leaving.
She was leaving.
His Marie was leaving and, irrational as it was, the very thought made his entire body clench.
With a speed that made him feel dizzy, his hand whipped out to grasp her wrist and she jolted, immediately whipping her head to the side so she could look at him.
"Stein-" she started, her brows coming together in confusion, but he didn't let her finish.
"Don't go," he said, and she blinked at him, her lower lip dropping down, her eye going wide.
She looked like she was going to say something, but then she looked at where he was holding her arm, fingers gentle on her skin, even when he was just one shot away from being drunk enough to start dancing disco.
Her smile started to form again, this time more slowly. When she looked at him, he felt warm at how tender her gaze was.
"Okay," she answered, and he could make out the faintest tinge of gold on her skin, her smile making his entire body relax. She slowly stepped forward, sitting down on his bed with him, and he couldn't let go of her arm.
Or, rather, he could, but he didn't want to. Her wavelength was putting him at ease.
She was putting him at ease.
"Okay?" he questioned, memorizing her pleased, gentle expression.
She hummed for a moment, her spare hand coming atop where he was still grasping her so she could rub her thumb over his knuckles.
"Yes," she assured, still stroking over the back of his hand, and he melted to her entirely, something that seemed to make her smile intensify, her gaze almost. . .loving.
Something in him stuttered.
"Okay," he said. And as she scooted closer to him on the bed, he wondered if she understood that he wanted her to stay for more than just the night.