Dead Plate Oneshots My Drunk Roommate

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Rody had been lounging on the couch, half-watching the late-night TV shows he’d mindlessly scrolled through. He figured his roommate, Vincent, wouldn’t be back until much later. Vincent had gone out to a work event, and though he rarely got drunk, tonight might have been different. Rody expected him to come home looking slightly tired, maybe with a little less of his usual edge, but not much more than that.

The sound of keys jingling at the door caught his attention. Rody turned his head just as the front door creaked open, and in stumbled Vincent—but not the Vincent he knew. His normally sharp, composed friend looked like a completely different person.

Vincent’s hair, usually neatly styled, was messy, and his cheeks were flushed a bright pink. He had a half-smile on his face, his eyes half-lidded as he fumbled through the doorway.

“Vin?” Rody sat up, blinking in disbelief. “Are you… drunk?”

Vincent paused mid-step and stared at Rody, his expression going from blank to a bright, wide grin in a matter of seconds. “Roooody,” he sang, voice soft and way too sweet. He swayed a little before stumbling toward the couch, his arms outstretched.

“Whoa, hey, careful,” Rody said, getting up quickly to steady him. As he reached Vincent, the smaller man immediately wrapped his arms around Rody’s waist, leaning heavily into him.

“Vincent!” Rody yelped, face heating up as Vincent pressed his cheek against his chest, nuzzling into the fabric of Rody’s shirt. “What the hell? You’re—clingy!”

Vincent hummed, squeezing him tighter as he buried his face further into Rody’s chest. “You smell nice,” he mumbled, his voice muffled but somehow still affectionate. “So warm…”

Rody stood there awkwardly, his arms raised, unsure what to do. “Vin, you’re drunk. You need to go to bed.” He tried to pull back, but Vincent only clung tighter, his grip surprisingly strong for someone who looked like they could barely stand.

“I don’t wanna,” Vincent whined softly. His voice took on a pleading tone that Rody had never heard from him before. “Wanna stay with you…”

Rody sighed, running a hand through his disheveled auburn hair. “Alright, alright, but at least sit down. You’re gonna fall over.”

He gently guided Vincent back to the couch, trying to coax him to sit. But instead of sitting beside him, Vincent tugged on Rody’s hand, pulling him down onto the couch first.

Before Rody could even react, Vincent quickly crawled onto his lap, settling himself comfortably like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Vincent!” Rody’s voice cracked, and his face turned bright red as Vincent curled up against him, resting his head on Rody’s shoulder. “What are you doing?”

“Mm… comfy,” Vincent murmured sleepily, his eyes fluttering shut. He nuzzled into Rody’s neck, his breath warm against Rody’s skin. “You’re comfy.”

Rody stiffened, his hands hovering awkwardly in the air. **What was he supposed to do with his hands?** He didn’t dare move, too flustered by the fact that his usually aloof roommate was now snuggled into his lap like a sleepy kitten.

“You—you’re really affectionate when you’re drunk, huh?” Rody muttered, his heart pounding in his chest.

“Only with you,” Vincent mumbled against his neck, his voice soft and full of affection.

Rody’s breath caught in his throat. “What? What does that even—”

Vincent lifted his head slightly, his half-lidded eyes locking onto Rody’s, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Because I like you,” he whispered, his gaze warm and sleepy. “You make me feel all warm and fuzzy…”

Rody’s heart skipped a beat, and his face turned an even deeper shade of red. **Did Vincent just say he liked him?** No way. That had to be the alcohol talking. Vincent couldn’t possibly mean that.

“Y-you’re drunk,” Rody stammered, trying to find some way to regain control of the situation. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

But Vincent only hummed contentedly, closing his eyes again as he settled back against Rody’s chest. “You’re cute when you’re flustered,” he mumbled sleepily, his voice barely audible.

Rody froze, his mind racing. He didn’t know what to do with any of this. The Vincent he knew—the sharp, reserved, and sometimes intimidating Vincent—was completely gone, replaced by this soft, clingy version who seemed perfectly happy to cuddle up in his lap. And the worst part was… Rody didn’t exactly hate it.

Against his better judgment, he found himself relaxing slightly, one hand coming to rest gently on Vincent’s back. He let out a long breath, his heart still racing, but maybe… maybe this wasn’t so bad.

Vincent sighed in his sleep, his breathing slowing, and Rody could feel the warmth of him seeping through his clothes. He stared down at his roommate, utterly bewildered by the entire situation.

“…What the hell just happened?” he muttered to himself, his face still bright red.

Rody sat there, completely frozen, as Vincent cuddled deeper into him. The weight of Vincent’s head on his shoulder and the soft rise and fall of his breath against Rody’s neck were doing nothing to calm his racing heart. He could hardly believe this was happening. Vincent—his cold, intimidating, and composed roommate—was now passed out in his lap, holding onto him like he was some kind of giant pillow.

**How did things end up like this?** Rody couldn’t wrap his mind around it. Just earlier today, Vincent had been his usual self: distant, quiet, and way too cool to even acknowledge anything outside of their usual casual banter. And now…

Vincent looked so different when he was relaxed, so soft and… peaceful. The sharp, steely gaze that usually cut through anyone who dared get too close was completely absent, replaced by an expression of calm that Rody had never seen before. His dark lashes rested against his cheeks, his lips slightly parted, and his features—normally tense and serious—seemed almost delicate in the soft glow of the living room light.

Rody swallowed hard. He could feel the warmth of Vincent’s body through his clothes, and every slow, steady breath the man took only made Rody more aware of just how close they were.

**This is fine, right?** Rody tried to reassure himself. **He’s just drunk. He probably won’t even remember this tomorrow.**

Still, that thought didn’t make his situation any easier. His face was still burning, and he had no idea where to put his hands. One was resting awkwardly on the couch, and the other hovered over Vincent’s back like it was afraid to land.

After a moment of hesitation, Rody carefully lowered his hand onto Vincent’s back, patting it awkwardly. “Uh… you okay there, Vin?” he asked softly, though he knew Vincent was too far gone to answer.

Vincent shifted slightly in response, snuggling even closer to Rody. His grip around Rody’s waist tightened, and a soft, contented sigh escaped his lips. “Warm…” Vincent murmured, his voice barely audible but still full of affection.

Rody’s heart skipped a beat. **Warm?** The word echoed in his mind, and for a second, he wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol making Vincent speak so freely, or if this was how he really felt when the walls came down. Either way, it was making Rody’s head spin.

“You’re… a lot more cuddly when you’re drunk, you know that?” Rody muttered, his voice strained as he tried to process the situation.

“Mmm… only ’cause it’s you,” Vincent whispered, still half-asleep, but his words were clear enough to make Rody’s face heat up all over again.

“Why do you keep saying that?” Rody asked, though he wasn’t sure he wanted an answer.

Vincent didn’t respond this time. His breathing had evened out, and his body was completely relaxed against Rody’s. It didn’t take long for Rody to realize that Vincent had fully drifted off, his head resting comfortably in the crook of Rody’s neck.

Rody sighed, leaning back into the couch with a resigned smile. **This guy…** He ran a hand through his messy auburn hair, unsure of how to handle the situation but too tired to figure it out.

Despite the awkwardness of it all, there was something oddly comforting about having Vincent so close. Rody had never seen this side of him before—the vulnerable, clingy side that clung to him for warmth and comfort. And, for some reason, he didn’t mind it. Maybe it was because Vincent, for all his sharp edges, was just as human as the rest of them. Or maybe, deep down, Rody liked the idea of being the one Vincent felt safe with.

The thought made Rody’s heart race again, and he shook his head quickly, trying to clear it. **No, no, no, stop thinking like that!** This was just a one-time thing. Vincent would wake up tomorrow, probably hungover and embarrassed, and everything would go back to normal.

At least… that’s what Rody told himself.

But as he sat there, with Vincent sound asleep in his lap, his head resting against Rody’s chest, he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe—just maybe—things wouldn’t go back to normal at all.

Time passed slowly as Rody sat on the couch, his body stiff but his mind running a mile a minute. He glanced down at Vincent again, who was still fast asleep, his grip on Rody’s waist never loosening.

Rody sighed, glancing at the clock on the wall. **It’s late.** He knew he should probably wake Vincent up and get him to bed, but part of him hesitated. Vincent looked so peaceful like this, and Rody didn’t want to disturb him.

**But what else can I do?** He couldn’t just sit here all night with his roommate asleep on his lap… right?

“Vin,” Rody called softly, giving Vincent a gentle shake. “Hey, you should probably get up.”

Vincent stirred slightly but didn’t wake up. Instead, he mumbled something unintelligible and snuggled even closer, his face pressing against the crook of Rody’s neck.

Rody stiffened, his face turning bright red as Vincent’s breath tickled his skin. “Vincent!” he called a little louder, this time more flustered than before. “You can’t just—”

“Five more minutes,” Vincent mumbled, sounding like a child who didn’t want to get out of bed.

Rody groaned. **This is ridiculous.**

But as he looked down at Vincent—his clingy, sleepy, and surprisingly adorable roommate—Rody’s resolve softened. He let out a long sigh, leaning back into the couch with a defeated smile.

“Fine,” he muttered under his breath, his hand gently rubbing Vincent’s back. “Five more minutes.”

And for now, that was enough.

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Chapter 135