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drunk words, sober thoughts - t. bordeleau

summary: reader is friends with bords & the hockey boys and ends up alone at a party. cue thomas bordeleau to the rescue:)

tw: slight innuendo of potenial sa, grimy frat boy included but only for a short bit, slight mentions of him afterwards as well ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

y/n:) : i don’t wana be here anmyore birds

y/n:) : matty saidhe was gnna be here but i cantfind him and hes not answring

y/n:) : bird

y/n:) : fucl bords

bords: y/n, what’s wrong? what’s going on

y/n:) : dpmtwanna behere

bords: where are you?

y/n:) : pike?tke?idunno

y/n:) : gonnawalk bak

bords: no the fuck you aren’t. stay put, share your location with me, and i’ll be there in five minutes.

somehow, in the span of the world spinning and your eyes fluttering closed, you manage to click the “share location” button on your conversation thread with thomas. your stumbling figure makes its way out of the bathroom where you had hidden yourself for the past ten minutes after nearly everything had gone to shit.

your friends and you had always established a “never leave anyone alone” pact early on in your friendships when you started to go out. but, taylor had finally caught the eye of the boy she had been pinning after for weeks, hannah had been dragged by her boyfriend to play a game of pong two hours ago and you had yet to see her since, and maggie had been pulled away by another group of people, leaving you to fend all by yourself.

normally, you’d find someone you knew - being friends with a decent portion of the hockey team had given you a sense of popularity you didn’t think was possible. you had met dozens of people from your nights out and even around campus in general. you normally would also find some of the hockey boys and attach to their group for the time being - more specifically thomas - but, having played a game only a couple hours prior, most of the boys had opted to tune in for the night instead of going out.

matty might be lingering around somewhere in the frat house, but he was nowhere to be seen.

and besides, he wasn’t thomas.

to say the relationship between you and thomas wasn’t complicated would be a lie. it was the most complicated situation one could find themselves in - you felt like it was clear how you felt about him, but he had never acted on any potential feelings that might be there. granted, you also didn’t act on any feelings, but you didn’t want to get turned down and embarrassed from a boy that could get any girl that he wanted.

you stumble down the hallway, passing by dozens of people that you may or may not know, that may or may not be trying to talk to you. the tears start to blur your eyes, and before you know it you’re sitting on the steps of the front porch of the house waiting for thomas to arrive. your head subconsciously leans against the pillar to your left, and you find yourself checking your phone every two seconds to see if thomas had texted you back.

“what’s a pretty girl like you doing out here alone?” you hear a voice, and before you can turn your head to look at who the voice belonged to, your own voice acts before your mind.

“matty?” you ask, turning to look at the stranger, who in fact, was not matthew. “you’re not matty.”

the blonde boy chuckles, “matty? who are you looking for, gorgeous? i’ll help you find them. i know people.”

“matty beniers, hockey team matty. he-he’s supposed to be here, and, and i can’t find him.” you gaze up at the boy, a pathetic look on your face, almost accepting defeat. “but, thomas will be here soon and thomas is gonna take me home.”

the boy purses his lips, a glint in his eye. “matty beniers? matty b? pretty sure i saw him upstairs in the house, here, cmon.” he reaches his free hand that wasn’t holding a beer out for you to take.

you’re hesitant. you pause for a second, before you reach your hand out and place it in his. the boy smirks, closing his hand around yours and pulling you up from your spot on the step. you stumble into him as he leads you towards the front of the house, your entire body feeling heavy and defeated.

“y/n. y/n!”

your heart flutters at the familiar voice, and you halt your steps to turn around. sure enough, in all his glory thomas is making his way up the stone path to the house. “thomas.” your strained voice manages to cause a tear in his heart.

“where do you think you’re going? let’s go, y/n. ‘m taking you back home.” he comes up the few steps until he’s standing right next to you, and he reaches his hand out for you. but not before shooting daggers at the boy on the other side of you. “sorry, and you are?”

“tyler, a friend of y/n’s, gonna take her to see another one of her friends. come on.” tyler pulls on your hand to try and lure you back into the house.

you send thomas a pleading look, your heart starting to pound in your chest, now realizing the situation you had gotten yourself into.

“that’s funny, i know all of y/n’s friends and there’s not a single tyler in there. nice try, buddy. she’s coming with me whether you like it or not. next time, don’t take advantage of a drunk girl.” thomas manages to pull your other hand away from the boy, and instantly, he’s pulling you in the direction of his parked car. “god, what were you thinking, y/n? going off with a guy you don’t even know? do you know how bad that could’ve ended if i didn’t show up just now?”

despite his ranting, he still opens up the passenger seat of his car for you to slip in. you sit there quietly until he walks to his side of the car. he’s flustered and frustrated, and when he’s sitting, his tattooed arm reaches into the backseat. “here, this is for you, to cover up.” he mumbles, handing you the cloth.

“thank you,” you mutter, slipping your arms into the fabric and pulling it over your head, no longer caring about how it’ll mess up your hair if you arent careful enough. thomas is silent, not even putting the radio on for the short ride back. it isn’t until you finally start paying attention to where he’s driving that you realize he isn’t driving in the direction of your house. “bords, my house is that way.” you point, hand flailing to the right. “wrong way.”

he shakes his head. “no, you’re coming to our place tonight. i don’t want you alone when you’re like this.”

“alright.” your voice is small, and you sink back into your seat, silent for the remainder of the drive. your arms are crossed over your chest in an attempt to make yourself as small as you possibly can.

when you finally arrive to the unofficial hockey house the boys were renting, thomas walks around to the passenger’s side. he holds his arm out for you to take, and you gladly do, wrapping both of your arms around his one and holding it to your chest.

“are you alright?” thomas mumbles, and you just nod your head against his arm to confirm. “i’ve got you. you’re alright.”

he helps you up the few steps and he pushes open the front door. “back so soon, bords?” you let out a gasp, letting go of thomas’ arm and letting out a happy giggle.

“matty!” you exclaim, grinning at the brunette boy whos sat on the couch alongside owen, kj, and brendan. “hi guys. matty, i was looking for you!”

matt forces a frown, “sorry, y/n/n, i ended up not going out and my phone’s upstairs charging. i would’ve told you, but we’re engrossed in stepbrothers.”

your eyebrows furrow, and your arms cross over your chest. “no, you were at pike - tke, i dunno where i was, but a boy was gonna bring me to you. you were there.”

brendan looks between you, thomas, and matthew. “oh, she is fucked.” he says, eyes on thomas, who’s visibly stressed with his hand running down his face.

“yeah, i’m aware.” thomas mumbles. “y/n, come on. i’m taking you upstairs, you gotta get some rest. you gotta sleep this off, or you’re gonna hate yourself in the morning.”

“goodnight, boys. sorry bordy is being a party pooper.” you pout, starting the trek up the stairs towards thomas’ bedroom. thom places his hand firmly on your waist to keep you upright, helping you up the entirety of the stairs. “‘m sorry, thomas. i didn’t realize you guys were watching a movie. i didn’t know it was boys night, ‘m sorry.”

thomas lets out a breath, opening the door to his room and letting you walk through the entrance. he follows shortly behind you, “y/n, don’t worry about it. again, i’m glad i was there.” he turns to his closet. “sit on my bed, i’ll grab you sweatpants to change into, so you can get out of those.” he gestures towards your faux-leather clad legs that you cross under your body when you sit down on his made bed.

you’re silent for a few beats, and thomas tosses a pair of sweatpants in your direction. “you change. i’m gonna go grab you gatorade, water and advil. i’ll be right back up.”

he doesn’t wait for your response before he heads out of the room and back down the steps, just to be greeted with the boys you had just been speaking to.

“what the hell happened to her tonight?” owen asks, reaching for the remote and pausing the movie. “like, seriously, bords. she’s not alright. y/n doesn’t just leave with random guys she doesn’t know.”

thomas drags his hand down his face, walking into the kitchen and grabbing a few waters. “i’ve got zero clue. she thought matty was at the party, some guy must’ve found her outside and she told him she was looking for him. needless to say, if i hadn’t gotten there at this time, it probably wasn’t gonna end well.”

“we can take shifts, if you want. i know she can get to be a lot to handle when she’s drunk,” matty speaks up, and quickly thomas shakes his head.

“nah, i got this. i’ve got her in my bed, she’ll pass out in no time if she won’t be asleep by the time i get back up there. she’s just rambly right now.” he shoves the bottle of advil into his joggers pocket, three waters in one hand and two gatorades in another. “wish me luck, boys.”

thomas disappears back up the steps and into his room again, where now you’re full changed into thomas’ clothes and half under his comforter, waiting for his arrival. you’re scrolling mindlessly on your phone after texting your friends where you had ended up, and when thomas walks in your head snaps up. “hi.”

“hey,” thomas responds, setting the gatorades down on his nightstand and two of the waters. he cracks open the third and hands it to you, then opens the bottle of pain killers and hands two to you as well. “take that. chug that.”

“thank you.” you say quietly, taking the medicine and starting to drink the water. his gaze is on you, on your suddenly innocent frame sitting up in his bed. you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear before looking up and meeting his gaze. “bords? will you help me put my hair up, please?”

he clears his throat. “yeah, yeah of course. do you have a hair tie?”

you hold out your arm to allow thomas to pull off your hair tie, which he does. you hunch over, leaning your head over to allow the boy to gather your hair. he gently does, fingers raking through your hair a few times, more in an attempt to soothe you rather than to help put your hair up, but eventually he does gather all of your hair and puts it into a loose messy bun.

“thank you, thomas. i really appreciate you.” you whisper, lifting your head to look at the boy. he moves to sit on the edge of the bed right by your legs. “like, a lot. i dunno what i would do without you.”

thomas lets a small smile grace his face. “i care about you, y/n. i don’t want anything bad to happen to you. you’re like, my best friend.”

“that’s why i like you.”

the words fly out of your mouth before your intoxicated mind can try and reel you back in, and your confession has thomas’ eyes widening. “what did you just say?”

“that i, that i," your words suddenly get caught in your throat, and the tears that had subsided earlier are finding their way back into your eyes. "you don't like me back."

"y/n, i, i never said that. fuck, you need to go to sleep, please. the sooner you go to sleep the sooner you'll wake up feeling better, alright?" his concerned gaze meets yours and you find yourself nodding.

you situate yourself under the comforter, thomas' scent surrounding you, and thomas helps to tuck you in. "goodnight, thomas," you murmur, turning so you're facing the wall instead of in his direction. thomas frowns.

"goodnight, y/n. i'll be downstairs for a little, text or call me if you need me and i'll be right up."

when you don't answer, thomas peeks around, and sure enough you're already fast asleep. he leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead, and he's dipping out of his room and back down into the living room where all of his friends were waiting for him.

"you haven't had to clean up puke, right? cause, you look like you're gonna throw up." kj asks, moving over on the couch so thomas can sit down with the group.

"you look like you just saw a ghost."

"y/n just told me she likes me." thomas confesses, leaning his elbow on the arm of the couch, gaze locked on the once again paused tv screen.

brendan chuckles from the loveseat, setting his phone down beside him. "damn, it's about time. we've been talking about this forever. she's been hooked on you since the moment you two met, it's painfully obvious."

"and painfully obvious that you're into her too." matty interjects. the statement makes thomas purse his lips. "are you gonna argue with me, bords?"

thomas sighs. there was no getting out of this situation, and if he were to go upstairs he would just be on the floor. so, this was the better option. "nah. i do like her, a lot. she's just one of my best friends, i don't wanna ruin that. what if things aren't the same if we start dating? what if we break up? then what? it's not worth it to lose her entirely."

"you're already thinking about the potential of a breakup? bords, come on. not once have you been this into a girl before. something tells me it wouldn't be a short lived thing." brendan tries to reason with his best friend. "the second she was texting you, you were already grabbing your keys. you both take care of each other, she takes care of you, whether that's drinking, or after a game, a bad day, she takes care of you. you make sure she's okay, all the time. you make sure she's eating, you see her every day, she sleeps over. you care about her more than you mean to let on, thomas. you're head over heels for this girl, just admit it."

the next morning, you awake with a small groan escaping your lips. you roll over, pulling the comforter away from your head. you squint your eyes, the sun coming in through the curtains a bit too bright for your hungover state.

there's a folded blanket sitting on thomas' desk chair and a pillow, and you make a mental note to scold him for sleeping on the floor. he didn't have to let you sleep in his bed, yet he did. you swing your legs over the side of the bed, prepping yourself to stand up.

and that's when the wave of nausea hits.

"fuck." you mumble, stumbling to your feet and making your way towards the bathroom in the hallway. luckily, you go unseen by any of the hockey boys. as soon as you can, your shutting the door and sitting in front of the toilet.

"bordy," brendan sings from the living room to thomas, who was busy making breakfast for the bunch. "your sleeping beauty is awake. might wanna go check on her, sounded like she went into the bathroom."

thomas' attention is completely diverted from his original task. "yeah, will you take this over for me then?"

brendan immediately gets up and grabs the spatula from thomas' hand, while thomas starts up the stairs towards the bathroom. he knocks lightly before stepping in, and immediately he internally cringes at the sight of your head hanging over the toilet bowl, emptying any contents in your stomach from the night before.

"it's just me," thomas mumbles, settling down behind you and gathering the hair that had fallen out of your bun from sleeping. he mimics his motions from last night, fingers running through your hair while simultaneously keeping it out of your face. when you stop throwing up, you lean your arm across the bowl and rest your head on it.

"you don't have to stay in here, thomas," you mumble. "i'm fine."

he doesn't stop running his fingers through your hair. "i'm staying right here, y/n/n. how many times did you puke?"

"just twice."

there's a silence between the two of you for a brief moment, and thomas argues with himself in his head. until finally, he bites the bullet. "you told me you liked me last night." his voice is quiet.

not that your body was moving anyway, but your body freezes at his words. you swallow hard. "i'm gonna be sick again." and again, you find yourself throwing up to the point you're just dry heaving.

"y/n," thomas soothes, "you're okay, i promise you. here. cmere." he gently pulls you back, so your back is pressed to his chest. "you're okay."

"but i-" you cut yourself off, letting your head fall back against his shoulders, and you let your eyes shut. "can we just forget last night happened, please?"

"what if i don't want to?" he asks, causing you to pick your head up and look at him. "what if i wanna make this work?"

#am drunk an emo #omfg

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