“Ugh, sorry I’m late,” I told Peaches as he opened the door for me. “Traffic on the 405 is—”
“Awful, yeah. Who could have guessed?”
I turned to him and smiled. “Josh tells me that in other cities, they complain about the weather. Here we complain about the traffic.”
“Where’s Josh from?”
“Pittsburgh.”
“Pennsylvania?”
“Yup.” I crossed the room to the futon and straddled the back of it. “You should meet Josh. He’s a cool guy.”
“Does he know about me?”
“I tell him everything.”
Peaches gave me a skeptical look. “And you’re just friends?”
“We tried dating a few years ago, but…” I shrugged. “Some people just don’t work out romantically. But I did take his virginity, so at least he got that out of our relationship. Now he has high standards for the other guys that blow him.” I lifted an eyebrow and touched my tongue to my upper lip playfully.
“It’s good you two can be friends after a breakup. You wouldn’t be jealous if he dated someone else?”
“Are you kidding me? I’d be stoked. He’s got a thing for bear-types, even if he doesn’t know it. He’s such a great guy, and as long as his future boyfriend is also great, I’d be happy for him. Of course, if he dated an asshole, then I’d be pissed. I’d have to kick the guy’s ass.”
“You can do that?”
I laughed. “No, not really.”
Peaches sighed and leaned against the back of the futon, crossing his arms over his chest. He looked a little tense, so I reached over and put a hand on his bicep.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, fine.”
“Fine my ass.”
“Seriously, I’m fine.”
I unstraddled the futon and scooted down until our sides were pressed together. When he didn’t react, I reached up and played with his hair, which was pulled back into a sloppy ponytail. I wanted to kiss him and make it better, but by now I knew that Peaches wasn’t always down for cuddling. Sometimes he only grew more distant when I touched him, and it ran contrary to my itching need to soothe through contact. It was another reason Josh and I hadn’t worked out, because Josh liked to work through problems by talking about them and I preferred to fuck, kiss, and hang on until the anger faded. Josh’s methods were probably healthier. But I couldn’t help my instincts.
“Ugh,” Peaches groaned, pulling away and striding back to the front door, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Sorry,” I muttered, dropping my hand into my lap.
“It’s not you.”
“I know.”
“Then don’t apologize.”
“I didn’t have to come,” I told him in irritation.
Peaches winced and shook his head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get snappy. I’m just… dealing with some things, and I thought it’d be good to have you here. But I’m kind of miserable company, and that’s why Oliver and Griffin left. Well, that and to smoke pot with one of their friends.”
“What are you dealing with? Can I help?”
“No.”
“You sure? I do offer services beyond blow jobs, you know. I’ve won accolades for my microwaving of Hot Pockets. Five stars across the board.”
Bless him, Peaches tried to smile. “Impressive.”
“I also make a good drinking buddy, and I’m sure Oliver keeps the place well stocked.”
“That he does.”
I headed into the kitchen and started picking through the bottles that were littered through nearly every cabinet. Maybe my culinary skills weren’t up to par, but mixing drinks was my specialty. I’d once thought of becoming a bartender, but I’d drink more alcohol than I served. Some temptations were best avoided.
The liquor was easy to come by; anything else, not so much. I’d hoped to make a cosmopolitan or a margarita, but the only juice in the fridge was Peaches’s mostly-empty container of orange juice. How did Oliver pick up chicks with this kind of sad collection?
“Find anything drinkable?” Peaches asked as he stepped into the kitchen to watch me bang around the cupboards.
“Anything is drinkable if you’re miserable enough,” I said, holding up a bottle of vodka and whiskey. “Shots?”
“Sounds good to me.”
There were some dirty shot glasses sitting out on the counter, so I grabbed them and cleaned them with soap in the sink. They seemed to be from a variety of sources—Gino’s Pizza, Las Vegas, McDowell’s Pub and Bar, and someone’s 21st birthday.
“Vodka? Whiskey? Gin?”
“Whiskey’s fine.”
“A real man’s man, eh?” I poured him a few fingers of whiskey and he threw it back immediately. “Man, you must feel like shit.”
Peaches offered the shot glass to me again, and I filled it.
“Why didn’t you start drinking before I got here?” I asked.
“That’s kinda sad, drinking shots by yourself at home.”
Peaches sounded like his bartender friend, so I replied in kind, “Don’t knock it until you try it.”
“Here.” Peaches grabbed the vodka bottle and poured some into another shot glass that he offered to me. “You told me vodka was your favorite, right?”
“Vodka is no one’s favorite. But it fucks me up faster than anything else.” I took the shot and swallowed it down. “Ugh God, that is fucking awful.”
Peaches chuckled, holding out his glass for me to knock mine against in a pathetic toast. I probably should have been telling Peaches that drinking away misery was not the answer. If it had been, I’d be full of wisdom by now. But I didn’t feel like the right person to lecture him about drinking, considering my own extensive history with it. I also understood the desire to forget your bullshit for a night. And… well. I wanted to be the cool fuck buddy who went along with him and didn’t fight. Peaches had some mental shit going on, and it wasn’t my business. I was the opposite of a therapist—conversations with me only seemed to enrage or depress people, so it was best I keep my mouth shut. Drinking with him was a better of way expressing my commitment than asking him about Eddie.
Because I knew that this was all about Eddie. I knew Peaches would rather be miserable and drunk than be fucking me sober. I knew it had been a month and Peaches was no closer to getting over his ex. I knew Peaches was also no closer to being my boyfriend, despite how much I cared about him and despite how much he knew I cared about him. I knew this was a stupid and fruitless journey that would result in regret.
I knew. I knew.
But I still drank with him.
I really fucking hated Eddie.
***
Someone shook me awake, but what really knocked me back into reality was my hangover. I groaned and sat up, rubbing my head with both hands. When I cracked my eyes open, I saw Oliver standing beside the futon, drinking straight from Peaches’s carton of orange juice.
“Morning, sunshine,” he said. In the background, I heard someone retching in the bathroom.
“Peaches?” I muttered.
“Yup.”
I let out a slow breath and gingerly lowered myself back to the futon. “Rough night.”
“You want me to make you something? I’m good for hangover cocktails.”
“I’ll just take a few Tylenol.”
“All right.” Oliver walked away, and the sunlight he’d been blocking sent a bolt of pain through my skull. So I clenched my eyes shut and shoved a pillow over my face.
Peaches wobbled over eventually and curled up on the other end of the couch, looking more miserable than I’d ever seen. I really hoped we hadn’t fucked, but I couldn’t remember what we’d done past the first few shots. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d sucked a guy’s dick without recalling it eight hours later. I was wearing all my clothing, so that was a good sign.
“I remember why I don’t drink,” Peaches grumbled.
I would have responded, but talking hurt. So I stayed silent until Oliver returned with pills. I could have dry swallowed them, but I took the water offered because my throat felt like sandpaper. I felt around for my phone and found it resting on the coffee table. Josh had texted me around midnight last night u hanging with your new bf?, and I had texted back piches isfu cibh drruck n srm I.
Ok, lol was Josh’s reply. It wouldn’t be the drunkest text I’d sent him, but at least I hadn’t insulted or solicited sex from anyone.
“It’s like we’ve switched roles here,” Oliver told Peaches with a smug grin. “How ya doin’, bud?”
“Mmm.”
“Yeah, okay. I’m going to the gym. Call me if you need me to pick anything up. Clean up the kitchen before I get back, because I think Natalie is coming over.”
“Who the fuck is Natalie?” Peaches mumbled.
“We had dinner with her and her friend Helen two nights ago.”
“Oh, her.”
“Man.” Oliver pulled out his phone and checked the screen. “You are so fucking gay. Can’t even remember a hot girl like Natalie.”
“No offense Oliver, but it’d be nice if you stopped talking and left.”
“Alright, alright.” Oliver rolled his eyes. “See you again sometime, Justin.”
“See ya.”
A minute later, Oliver had grabbed his gym bag and headed out the door, leaving Peaches and me alone. Peaches seemed to be worse off than me, so I slowly stood and began collecting the glasses and bottles we’d discarded last night, trying to avoid clacking any of them together. I didn’t bother cleaning the glasses; I didn’t think I could manage that level of labor yet. But I swept up the worst of the mess and returned to the couch, where Peaches was still sitting with his eyes closed and his brow clenched. Without thinking, I reached out and began to card my fingers through his hair, knowing that always helped my headaches. He didn’t protest, so with one hand I massaged his scalp. He leaned into the contact and sighed.
“Sorry ‘bout last night,” he said so quietly that I barely heard him.
“It’s fine,” I replied, as if I didn’t have nights similar to it all the time. At least he’d stayed home and exposed his drunkest self to only one person. I went to public bars, drank myself stupid, made an idiot of myself, and passed out in my car until I was sober enough to drive the next morning.
I gave Peaches a head massage until he was slightly more vocal. He offered to return the favor, but I waved him off.
“I have to go to work,” I said.
“On a Saturday?”
“If I want to be able to afford groceries this week, then yeah, Saturday.”
“Okay.” Peaches looked disappointed, and I hated myself for wasting last night on drinking instead of something more productive. Peaches had been vulnerable and depressed, and what had I done? Poured him shots.
“You free tomorrow night?” I asked.
“Yeah, sure.”
“Maybe we can hang out then? You can stop by my place if you want.”
“I’ve never been to your place.”
“I’ll text you the address. My sister’ll probably be home, but we can ignore her. She’s used to that.”
“How does six sound?”
“Great.” I leaned my elbows on the back of the couch and tilted his head back so I could kiss him upside down. Thankfully he’d thoroughly brushed his teeth after throwing up earlier. I’d intended on the kiss being brief, but when I began to pull back, Peaches reached up to grasp my head and keep my lips against his for another few seconds. My chest tightened, and I couldn’t help but run my hands down his shoulders before I pulled away.
“Thanks, Justin,” Peaches said with raw sincerity.
“Any time,” I replied, and I felt in my heart how much I meant it.
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