sad boy phd

“you’re drunk.”

archer’s remark isn’t particularly negative, though shinji’s inebriation is probably due in part to a lack of proper eating. it’s a busy time for a professor and he can’t very well leave all of his grading to his assistants. days of pouring over essays and sustaining on burned coffee have left him particularly vulnerable on this saturday evening. ice rocks crack in his glass and archer notices that the three fingers of scotch has now become one.

shinji’s gaze is only a little distant when he shrugs, trying not to look ruffled by the accusation. it’s been a long day; it’s cold; he aches... these are all excuses he could make, though he knows he doesn’t need to. archer knows. rather, shinji finishes his drink and hands the glass off to archer before removing his glasses and rubbing at his eyes. archer smirks, watching shinji yawn and stretch in his rumpled suit jacket that hangs off his shoulders. how can someone manage to look and act both young and old at the same time? it’s a little distressing how endearing he finds it. “Can I make you something to eat?”

shinji opens one eye before the other and breathes out of his nose in a huff.  “Not yet. S’till early.”

“It’s 8:30.” archer says, eyebrows pinched.
“Like I said,” shinji waves a hand dismissively.

he would never admit that he enjoys being annoyed like this, but he has suspicions that shinji may feel the same way about him.

for all of archer’s efforts to rehabilitate shinji’s poor lifestyle choices, the dark circles and creases beneath his eyes were here to stay. they were a great indication of his character, certainly, but sometimes archer tries to look beyond them for a glimpse of the vibrant young man he was before, in another lifetime.

the sound of shinji clearing his throat quickly brought archer back to the present. face bright red, he was almost scowling. the final drink liquor had hit his head, and truly, was archer’s favorite part of this cycle to watch.

“You’re staring.”

it was an accusation that had no sticking point; they caught one another staring on a regular basis. it seemed par for the course in a relationship full of open ends and unfinished business. the only change in flavor is that shinji is drunk, therefore delightfully embarrassed.

“And what of it?”

the urge to tease him when he’s like this can’t be resisted. there is too much entertainment value in watching his nose wrinkle and lips flatten. still, shinji is too stubborn to break eye contact.

“Stop.” his voice cracks a little and he immediately looks angry, as if he’s betrayed himself. archer makes a note to cook one of his comfort foods later to soften the blow to his ego. for now, though, he would revel in it.

his palm resting heavily on shinji’s head, archer’s fingers lightly brushed through his hair in a comforting motion. he can feel his body tense beneath his touch, but it’s not necessarily discouraging. he’s been skittish since they’ve reconnected and it’s been something of a secret, or rather, personal goal of his to coax him out of the incredibly hard shell shinji has constructed around himself. archer knows that he’s the reason it exists in the first place, after all. he owed that much to him.

there’s a low grumble behind shinji’s closed mouth, but no barking or expletives. this was progress. even for a wiry man with a tired body that didn’t know peace, shinji was still a brat. somehow that was his biggest charm point.

archer kept petting him and shinji continued to allow it, so it was only after a moment that he attempted to add another layer of comfort. “Let me cook for you. I can start you a bath, if you want.”

“No.” shinji responded too quickly.

suddenly concerned he had pushed things too far, archer’s fingers stopped moving. it wasn’t more than a second later that shinji moved just a little — enough to encourage him to continue.

he worked through the disbelief as fast as possible so he could keep at it. shinji’s eyes closed as archer resumed petting him and his chest heaved a small sigh. he was leaning into him more as time progressed and eventually archer was so consumed by their rhythm that it took him a minute to feel the staccato shaking of the other’s shoulders.

shinji’s head was down, which archer had thought was a unconscious effort to give him more hair ruffling access — though coupled with the silent hiccup he can feel beneath him, he’s realized he was wrong. concern takes the wheel as he takes shinji’s face into his hand to gently tilt it upward. there’s little resistance and his shoulders are slack.

his cheeks are wet; tacky with tear tracks and his eyes still pouring. the haze in shinji’s expression holds a lot more than just intoxication. instinctively, archer strokes his thumb across and the sound that’s wrenched from the bottom of his chest might be the most desperate thing he’s ever heard.

shinji’s trying to clench his jaw; trying to act like he isn’t crying and archer is trying to gather his wits enough to grant him that illusion. still, he feels clumsy when he places his other hand on shinji’s shoulder, because he knows he has to find some way to comfort him more. there are enough sad whines that escape him to make archer pull him closer, his arm snaking around him. it still doesn’t feel like enough, but it’s an improvement.

when he resumes petting once again, shinji sobs. with his other hand splayed over his back, archer can feel everything. he feels a little nauseous, like he isn’t sure if this is progress. shinji’s hands gripping the fabric of archer’s shirt say otherwise, though, and archer mutters a quiet “Okay.” over the top of his head.

there was a time when archer might have said that shinji cried too often, but maybe that had been a good thing. right now, wrapped around him protectively and stroking his head, he’s grateful to hear it.