— — ONE SHOT — —
Alcohol poisoning is a serious result of drinking large amounts of alcohol in a short period of time.
Drinking too much affects breathing, heart rate, and body temperature.
In some cases it can lead to comas.
In his case it was almost death.
He wished it had been.
Not because Schlatt had a death wish. At least, not usually. He quite enjoyed the feeling of being drunk, thank you very much. No, it meant that he had missed meeting whoever his new tenant was. That he was coming back from being hospitalized for almost a week and a half to meet a roommate who’d been living in the apartment while he was gone.
Not a fun thought. If he screwed up the kitchen, I don’t care if I’m sent back to prison, he’s dealing with it, even if I have to kill him.
To say Schlatt was in a bad mood, though he would admit he was grateful for the clear head since he was currently sober, would be the understatement of the century. The kitchen was his one pride and joy with how quickly and creatively he could whip up any sort of drink and would be the death warrant for his new roommate if it was damaged in any way.
He let out an annoyed grunt as he started the climb to the third floor of the building, forgoing the elevator. What happened in the elevator stayed in the elevator, a rule all those living here agreed on without having to explicitly share it. Only the poor fools who were too exhausted to realize their mistake or had yet to discover how risky it was willingly stepped through those doors.
Whether he was drunk or sober, Schlatt knew better than to do that. Eventually he reached room 3104 and shifted his duffle bag across to one shoulder so he could dig his keys out from the front pocket.
On the first try he managed to insert it into the keyhole and step into his apartment. From the entryway nothing looked any different except for the pair of black high tops, unlaced and kicked to the side, near the front door.
“Hello?” He called, trying hard to avoid gritting his teeth. Just because their shoes are here doesn’t mean they’re a slob.
“Come on in!” A brighter reply came from further down the hall, in the same area as the living room and kitchen. Something in his gut twisted anxiously as he turned down the other hall, which would lead to the bathroom and bedrooms. While he was currently on strict order to avoid alcohol for the upcoming months at risk of heart failure and permanent side effects, the idea of anybody messing in his kitchen made him uneasy.
He threw his packed bag onto his bed and quickly moved to unlace his sneakers before kicking them into the corner near his closet. Calm down, he doesn’t know the rules yet.
“Shoes stay inside the room.” He warned as he headed back toward the main area, taking a deep breath through his nose. “I don’t want people tripping over them if they’re coming in.”
The sound of fingers flying across a keyboard caught his attention right before he entered the room. “Sure, sorry about that.”
A head of fluffy blonde hair was ducked in a position over the counter that couldn’t have been good for his back in the long run as he navigated or typed up whatever he was doing on the laptop screen before him. He was half perched on the barstool, half falling off it. “Any other rules I should know about?”
Schlatt ignored the lack of reaction to immediately study his kitchen. It was spotless, there were no dishes in the sink, and there was a faint candle scent filling the air to overcome any possible bad residues, though the trash was currently empty so the brunette wasn’t too worried about it. In fact the pinacolada smell was kind of nice. Has he actually lived here?
“Don’t blast music. Don’t enter my room or touch my stuff without my permission. Ask before inviting anybody over. Pay your half of the rent every month. Don’t ask questions.”
“Gotcha.” The blonde replied without missing a beat, causing the brunette to frown and glance at him from over his shoulder. It wasn’t very often people agreed to his requirements that quickly, a lot of them claimed that it was unfair or too much. “That it?”
“Report anything suspicious or damaged to me.” Schlatt replied, faintly amused now. He was absolutely going to make this guy regret not listening to him later. “And don’t ruin my kitchen.”
“Would playing rock music break the first rule?” He hummed in curiosity, finally stopping in whatever he was working on to look up at Schlatt with a faint smile, green eyes glimmering with similar amusement. “Or would that count as ruining the kitchen?”
So he had been paying attention. Schlatt felt his corners of his mouth twitch toward a smirk as he raised an eyebrow. “Depends on the band.”
The blonde’s grin widened. “Welcome back. I hope restocking the fridge doesn’t count as ruining your kitchen.”
“It doesn’t as long as you didn’t touch my alcohol.”
His nose wrinkled. “That’s all yours.”
Schlatt finally allowed a satisfied smile to touch his lips. Maybe this one won’t be so bad. “Then I don’t think we’ll have a problem. I’m Schlatt.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Dream.”
“Schlatt~” An annoyingly familiar voice sang out as the door opened.
“No.” He replied without hesitating from his spot on the ratty dark blue couch that had moved in with him from his last apartment as he continued flipping through the magazine said roommate had been reading over the past week about gaming tips. He can’t possibly know.
“C’mon Schlatt.” Dream pouted as he appeared, making his way into the kitchen. Despite himself the brunette bristled. While his roommate had entered the kitchen several times he hadn’t cooked in it yet and it always spiked his anxiety. “One time? You just passed that cyber security exam you’ve been studying for all week and got the highest grade. That deserves to be celebrated.”
“Highest grade?” Schlatt hummed mockingly. “Bold assumption there Dream.”
“Not an assumption.” The blonde shot back with a smirk. “Puffy mentioned it during my tutoring session.”
Schlatt groaned at the reminder. He and Dream were both majors in computer science, and therefore shared a class with Mrs. Cara, an adaptable teacher who preferred to go by Puffy. She was probably Schlatt’s favorite teacher. “She’s not supposed to share information like that with other students.”
“I’m her favorite and your roommate. I don’t think she thought it was a big deal.” He replied with a shrug, opening the cupboard drawer where the spices and sauces were normally stored before a long exasperated sigh escaped him. “Seriously? I thought you said you were running to the store this morning.”
“Must’ve forgot.” He shrugged, allowing some snark to leak into his tone. He was slightly curious as to how the blonde cooked but he wasn’t willing to risk anything quite yet. That and he didn’t want evidence of his existence tonight.
“Guess I’ll go then.” Dream grumbled. He paused before completely stepping out of view though and pointed accusingly toward Schlatt, who set the magazine down with a raised eyebrow, hoping to appease the fiery college student if it meant him leaving. I don’t want him here when Wilbur and Quackity arrive.
“No drinking.”
He blinked before processing what the younger had said and sputtered out a protest. “What!? You said I could celebrate!”
The door closed with Dream’s laughter echoing in his ears.
“How is it that you’re known to be a raging drunk and don’t have any tylenol anywhere in this house?”
“Stop implying that I’m drunk.”
“I used past tense. But you absolutely are drunk Schlatt, I know a hangover when I see one.”
“How?”
“Are you seriously asking me that?” His voice pitched up a little in annoyed disbelief. “I live with you. You think I haven’t noticed the alcohol bottles dwindling when I’m the only one who goes shopping?”
The brunette shrugged before green eyes narrowed on him. “Or that you tried to take the elevator getting back from class today?”
Schlatt grumbled out something incoherent as he felt Dream’s gaze turn away from him from rummaging through drawers in the kitchen and returned to smashing his face into the couch cushions.
“Please tell me you at least took some water.”
“I’m not that stupid.” He sat up with a frustrated sigh, shooting a glare over his shoulder at the blonde. Even the carefully deliberate movement sent his head pounding like a drum circle was in there and he winced, the light from the living room suddenly way too bright, before squeezing his eyes shut as he massaged his temples. I hate headaches.
“I’ll pay for the groceries but if you think I’m paying for your hospital bills then you’re wrong.”
“It was one night.” Schlatt groaned, peeking one glazed over brown eye out at his roommate, trying to repress a pout.
Dream raised what looked to be his eyebrow through his fuzzy vision in his direction as he grabbed his keys off one of the hooks by the door, sliding on his combat boots that had been left by the door despite Schlatt’s multiple warnings. “I’m going to go get you some medicine. Don’t go anywhere.”
He opened the door before Schlatt could get a word in but froze abruptly inside the apartment, shoulders tense before slowly closing the door with a faint click. The brunette frowned at the reaction as he forced himself to sit up and stumble to his feet, peering up and around the counter as Dream’s phone started ringing immediately after. The blonde glared at the screen before reluctantly accepting the user.
“What the heck are you doing here?” A familiar, slightly slurred voice echoed through the apartment. Oh crap, is that Wilbur?
“I live here.” Dream replied with a huff. “And I thought Quackity was the only one over here last night.”
Silence followed after the state that felt suspiciously like a threat before Wilbur’s nervous laughter echoed both through the speaker and the apartment door. “Dang, I didn’t know you were his new roommate.”
They know each other!?
“Schlatt’s not supposed to be drinking and you know that.” The blonde’s voice remained eerily calm. “Unless you want him hospitalized again and this is some elaborate plot to give you time to look for a specific stolen item while he’s out.”
“Th-that’s not-” Quackity’s voice stuttered faintly.
“Everybody on campus knows you two are either his drinking buddies, his partners in crime, or his current fling.” He interrupted the ravenette bluntly, looking up from the phone to send an unreadable stare that bordered on a glower in Schlatt’s direction. “And I’ve made it incredibly clear that I don’t want you two around when I’m home.”
His eyes widened before he sheepishly waved a hand, knowing he’d been caught overhearing the conversation. So Dream knows them, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. I wonder when they made that deal… Wait. How does he know about my job!?
“I’m going to give you guys four minutes to get out of here because Punz is my ride to the store.” The blonde hummed, hanging up. Immediately there was a frantic flurry of visible movement under the door and soft curses before he heard the two hurry away.
“How-”
“You were talking about it when I got back last night.” Dream frowned before another knock on the door, this one firm and slightly patterned, caught his attention. The tension in his shoulders released before he eyed Schlatt. “Stay here.”
“I don’t have anything better to do.”
He was in a good mood. Puffy had applied his name for an internship at a nearby business that she’d worked with before becoming a teacher where he could focus on the cyber security part of his computer science major. He’d gotten with Wilbur and Quackity and had managed to hang out with the two without everything immediately blowing up in his face. And the pantry had been restocked with the right ingredients for one of his favorite meals.
So he didn’t blink twice when Dream sent him a text warning him that Punz would be stopping by to drop him off. He’d been curious about the blonde’s boyfriend for a while now.
GOATMan: Sure. I’m making alfredo pasta and peppermint brownies if he’s staying for dinner.
Smiley: heck no that foods mine
GOATMan: Don’t want to share with your boyfriend? I get it, no judgement.
Smiley: ?????
Smiley: hes not my boyfriend
Smiley: weve been friends since elementary
Schlatt shrugged before clicking the power button on his phone and sliding it face down on the counter so he could continue working on the alfredo sauce, tying an apron up behind him. For some reason his chest felt lighter than it had in ages, only boosting his good mood.
“Alexa, start cooking playlist.”
“Starting cooking playlist.”
Led Zeppelin immediately began blasting in his ears and he chuckled to himself. Of course he did that.
The door clicked open not minutes after and Dream popped his head in two cups of coffee in his hands as he moved his foot and allowed the door to swing shut behind him. One likely held Dream’s caffe mocha, due to the blonde’s love for chocolate, and the other was likely Schlatt’s peppermint latte, because peppermint was superior.
“Does this band break the rules?” His green eyes sparkled with mirth.
“Nah.” He smirked in the blonde’s direction. “This one’s fine.”
He glared at the small stack of papers which consisted of two assignments, a study sheet, and an excused attendance slip in his hands as he made his way up the stairs but he couldn’t bring himself to actually be mad at his roommate.
It wasn’t Dream’s fault he’d woken up sick this morning.
“Dream?” He called as he struggled to slip the apartment key out of his jacket pocket before inserting it and shoving open the door with one shoulder. “I got your homework, Puffy said-”
He fell quiet at the sight of the blonde sprawled across the couch, curled around one of their ugly looking white, orange, and brown spotted throw pillows. His blonde hair was matted against his forehead as the fever continued raging through his body. Beside him was an empty glass of water, one half melted ice cube at the bottom, and a half empty bowl of soup.
The entire apartment actually smelled like soup, the smell of butter and cheese nearly intoxicating. His brow furrowed as he glanced at the kitchen. There were no new dirty dishes, no new ingredients or remnants of it scattered across the counter or stove top. The only evidence that anything had been cooked was the bowl on the coffee table and the small soup pot on the stove, the burner turned off but still slightly glowing red, suggesting it was still cooling down.
Dream didn’t invite people over without permission. Which meant he’d made this.
Schlatt approached the pot and peered into it, easily recognizing the look of broccoli cheddar soup. It had a faint undertone that he didn’t recognize to be associated with this kind of soup. Did Dream add nutmeg? Why not just make chicken noodle soup?
The brunette hesitated another beat before snagging a spoon from their silverware and kitchen utensil drawer, eyeing the obviously clean ladle still inside. He dipped his spoon into the pot and blew on it softly until it wasn’t steaming before his eyes. Flavor exploded in his mouth the moment it touched his tongue and despite it being slightly too hot it was the best broccoli cheddar soup he’d ever tasted.
Schlatt stared, eyes wide, at the soup pot, already feeling saliva gather in his mouth as his tastebuds begged for another sip. He did another slow circle, observing everything he could around the kitchen but there was nothing that hinted at it ever having been dirty. His eyes flicked toward the soup once more as he moved to grab a bowl of his own.
“Mmmm…” Dream whined, shifting on the couch. “’latt?”
“I’m here.” He paused in his movements. “Your homework is on the counter.”
“Mk.”
“Did you make this?”
“Make wha’?”
“The soup.”
“Mmm yeah.” The blonde curled further around the title, flipping over so his face was smashed into the back of the couch cushions. “Was hungry. Sorry.”
“No, it’s okay.” Schlatt offered him a softer smile than what was normally sharp and sly on his face, hoping it would bring the younger some comfort. “It tastes amazing.”
“Heading out?” Schlatt called, using his damp head towel to try and get one of his ears free of the water that had somehow slipped into it during his shower, the rest of it draped across his shoulders to prevent his t-shirt from growing wet.
“Yep.” Dream answered from his seat on the floor as he redid one of the laces for his black high tops, tongue poking out faintly. He smiled at the sight that had become safe and familiar to him. Cute.
“Is Punz still after my blood?”
“For claiming me as your boyfriend before we’d even decided anything?” The blonde snickered, looking up at him. “Or for him to walk in without permission to see you snuggling with me when I was sick a couple weeks ago?”
“Is he still mad about that one?” Schlatt groaned, brown eyes gleaming playfully.
“No.” Dream teased as he finished tying the knot and stood up. “But I’m holding that over you for as long as I can.”
“You’re the one who asked for it!”
“I have no recollection of this.” His grin widened as Schlatt rolled his eyes. “You want apple or cranberry champagne for Thanksgiving?”
“Is this real champagne or fake?”
“What do you think?”
“Uggghhh.” He sighed lightly as his roommate shook his keys a little. “Grocery shopping is the worst…”
“What would you know?” The blonde laughed. “You never go with me!”
“Is that a challenge?”
“If it means getting you to Walmart for the first time in who knows how long then yes.”
“Bet.”
“No alcohol.”
“But Dream…” Schlatt whined, unable to keep the frown on his face when his boyfriend cackled at the reaction.
“Nope.” Dream booped his nose before leaning in to quickly peck his cheek. “You’ll just have to settle with this instead.”
He fell silent, as if genuinely debating his options though his mind was already made up. At the blonde’s overly offended gasp he allowed the grin to slip onto his face. “Let me grab my jacket.”
