Wine Pt. 2

“Wine Pt. 2”
Starring Thomas Bangalter, Guy-Manuel de Homem-Christo, and OCs

Current Era (RAM)


Guy’s POV

I woke up the next day still face down on my pillow, still angry with myself. I felt my cell phone vibrating under my pillow, probably what woke me up. I sighed and reached under to grab it. It was Thomas. Missed him several times, in fact. Not even bothering to read the messages, I texted him back groggily.

What?

I fell back asleep and jolted awake five minutes later when my phone vibrated again.

You didn’t even read my messages, did you? Typical…

I groaned.

Non, I texted back. Ça va?

I’m trying to forgive you for what you did you moron, and say I’m sorry for yelling at you and throwing you out.

I sat up and dialed Thomas instead. Fuck this texting bullshit.

“Bonjour, Guy-Man,” Thomas greeted me calmly.

“Bonjour,” I greeted back. “I, uh… I can’t believe you’re not really angry with me.”

Thomas scoffed. “Why should I be? I give Noah wine all the time.”

“So he said,” I replied.

“I-I…” Thomas stuttered. “I had to kick you out for her sake. She’d kill me if she knew I was actually o-okay with what you did…”

“So, why do you give Noah wine?”

“H-he… tends to be hyperactive… a-and a bit bratty. The wine makes him more pliable…”

I laughed. “I just thought I could get the kid to lay out and give me an easy babysitting job. I didn’t know it would take that much wine to do it!”

Thomas chuckled. “Naughty babysitter.”

“Not naughty,” I countered. “Just lazy. But,” I contemplated. “I could play a naughty babysitter for you, if you’d like.” Mon Dieu, I’m still half-shot. Why did I just say that? I facepalmed.

“A-are you still drunk?” Thomas questioned. I could practically hear him blushing.

“A bit,” I admitted, laying on my side and drawing imaginary flowers on my bedspread. I hated that I was only allowed to express any kind of feelings for Thomas under the influence of alcohol. If only I could just admit my true feelings and get it all out in the open.

Thomas cleared his throat. He was blushing furiously, alright. I could totally tell. “D-do you like to play th-those kind of games?”

I sat up straight again. “Wh-what?” Was he seriously asking me that?

“N-never mind,” Thomas nervously stammered. “Forget I said anything.”

I sighed. “Thomah…” Another sigh. “We need to talk.”

“O-okay…” Thomas muttered. “Let’s talk.”

“Not on here,” I clarified. “In person. Someplace private.”

“The studio…?” Thomas suggested.

“Perfect. Give me time to shower, and let’s meet there in, say, an hour. Oh, and match me a bottle of wine.”

“You and your wine, Guy-Man,” Thomas laughed. “But okay. Meet you there in an hour.”

---

My stomach was twisted in knots by the time I reached our studio. It didn’t help that I’d already downed an entire bottle of wine before leaving the house. I mean, this was it. I was finally going to have ‘the talk’ with Thomas. Merde.

“H-hey,” Thomas greeted me. Of course he was there before me. Heaven forbid he ever be late for anything.

“Hey,” I greeted in return. Forget knots, my stomach was doing flip-flops now. And jumping jacks. Ugh. “How’s it going?”

“Good,” Thomas replied.

Great. Awkward politeness. We’d been best friends for how many years now?

“And Noah?” I pointedly did not ask about Inès…

“Uh, hungover.”

I chuckled. “To be expected.” Shit. Enough with the small talk! I opened my bottle of wine, took a huge gulp and passed the bottle to Thomas.

“So…” Thomas began, taking a drink of the wine. Here we go… “What was it you wanted to talk about?”

Merde.

“I uh, have a… confession…”

“Shoot,” Thomas encouraged, though a slight blush crept across his cheeks. I think he knew what was coming.

“Thomah…” I swallowed hard. “I… I like you. I mean, I like you.” Merde, this was not coming out the way I wanted it to.

“Uh…” Thomas seemed confused. “I like you too, Guy…”

“Non!” I actually facepalmed. “I mean, as more than a friend!”

“Oh,” Thomas stated, still not quite getting it. Then: “Oh! Guy! Wait, what? Really?”

I sat there with my head in my hands, not wanting to make eye contact with the taller man. I felt a pair of large hands gently place themselves on my shoulders. As I slowly removed my hands from my face, Thomas’ hands crept from my shoulders to rest on my horribly hot cheeks.

“Why are you embarrassed?” Thomas questioned. “I-it’s okay to like someone!”

“Even your best friend?” I asked, feeling disgusted with myself.

“Even me,” Thomas assured, looking me dead in the eye. “Your best friend.”

A half-hearted smile crept across my lips. “What if that ‘like’ is more… ‘love’?” Ugh. Now I really hated myself.

Thomas, hands still on my face, smiled. “A-are we not allowed to love each other?”

Wait… fucking what?

Imagine my further confusion when Thomas leaned down and kissed me. Actually, forget confusion. More like shock. So shocked, in fact, that I pulled away and slapped Thomas. Great. Drunk me decided to fuck this up. Thomas instinctively swung back with a huge fist, but even drunk, I used my shorter stature to my advantage and ducked.

“Stop!” I screamed. “I didn’t mean it! You-you surprised me, that’s all!”

“Damn it, Guy!” Thomas hissed, clutching at his stinging face.

“I’m sorry!” I apologized. I removed Thomas’ hand from his face, placing my own hand there and rubbing the slight injury gently. Thomas leaned into my hand and closed his eyes. With that, my other hand reached up and pulled at the back of his head, bringing him down for another kiss. A proper one this time. A bit rougher. A lot more needy. Eventually we pulled away from each other, panting hard and wiping the spit away.

“How long have you wanted to do that?” Thomas teased with a smirk.

“Since forever,” I admitted. “Y-you?”

“Same,” he confessed.

“Really?”

“Well… since the first time I saw you in the halls of our school, which is practically forever anyway…”

“Why…?” I whined. “Why did we both wait so long…?”

Thomas shrugged. “I-I guess we both thought it was wrong…”

I shook my head and threw my arms around the goofy man I’d loved for so long. We both stood there for the longest time, just holding each other. I buried my face in Thomas’ neck, inhaling his scent and sniffling.

Damn you, wine, making me cry and shit.

But then I heard the still sober Thomas sniffling as well, and I knew he was crying too.

END