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[just_another]

There's half a bottle of whiskey sitting on the counter in Crossroads and Joel is sitting just behind it, staring at it thoughtfully, wondering if he'll ever be able to drink it again or even just the smell of whiskey will remind him of Spencer for the rest of his life. He doesn't need to drink it, there had been enough beer in his fridge to get him sufficiently drunk, especially when combined with the painkillers the doctor had given him for his wrist, but he wants to drink it.

He wants to share it with Spencer. That was the plan. He likes whiskey, but he'd only bought it because Spencer likes it, too, and while they'd had some of it together already, the plan was to finish it with him. Because Joel had plans. He'd been stupid enough to make plans all the while knowing it could never last because he's done bad things and he's hurt people and there are reasons he's tried so hard to keep his distance. Good reasons. But he'd been stupid and he'd listened to the part of him that thought it was okay to move on. The part of him that felt weightless every time Spencer smiled in his direction. The part that thought asking him out on a date was going to end well.

And it hadn't. It hadn't ended well at all. Joel isn't prone to exaggeration, but he thinks calling last night a complete disaster isn't far off. Mark had come and he'd taken Spencer and he'd hurt him. Joel knows it could have been worse; he knows they both could have died in that lighthouse, but that doesn't make the things that had been done to Spencer any easier to stomach. Especially not when he knows it's his fault. If they hadn't gotten close, if he hadn't let himself get so... so carried away, then Spencer never would have become a target.

Now he doesn't even think it matters. He can't imagine that Spencer will want anything to do with him anymore and that's why he's sitting in his closed, dark store instead of somewhere with Spencer. He should have stayed at the hospital, he shouldn't have been such a coward, but he doesn't think he can face hearing Spencer tell him he doesn't want him around anymore. So he's here. And he's drunk. And he's swaying back and forth on his stool behind the counter, wondering if there's enough whiskey left in the bottle to get him so drunk that he blacks out for a week or two.

He doesn't want to be here. He wants to go back and erase Friday night and do it all over again. He wants to be wherever Spencer is. That's the only thing he wants and he wants it so badly that his chest aches with it, but he can't have it.

"Fuck it," he mutters, his words already slurred, then uncaps the bottle of whiskey and takes a long swallow. Black out drunk sounds better than any of his other options right about now.

[Timed to Saturday late afternoon/evening. While the store is technically closed, he'll open the door for anyone who knocks or rings the bell. Given the violence of the attack on Spencer, the news has probably gotten around, so feel free to come bang on his door and assume your pup has heard. Joel himself has a black eye, a bruised jaw and a sprained wrist.]

Comments

[just_another]

"Do you ever think," Joel says slowly, getting himself into a sitting position, "That it seems like everyone is Lara's biggest fan because you say crude things about her like that?" It's not an accusation, really, just a genuine question, but there is a part of him that's prepared to defend her if it turns into more. Lara's one of the few people who has been good to him for a long time and he knows that's true of a lot of people. She's done a lot of good.

"What club?" he asks, then makes a face. "My beer is fine."

[bachjones]

"Crude? Like rude because I only like her when I have sex with her? I thought that was honest. Another people here seem to love. 'Share your feelings, be comfortable with your feelings, lemme touch you until you're so tight that you'll explode'. Honesty."

He puts the beer away, gets up. "Don't do this to me, Joel. Give me some room to breathe."

[just_another]

"Crude because there's clearly a lack of respect for her as a person," Joel answers and although he thinks he's too drunk for this, he can't not say something. Even if Lara wasn't his friend, he takes issue with such comments and while he hasn't often been social enough to hear such things, he has no intention of letting it simply go. "I like you, I meant what I said, but I also won't listen to dismissive comments treating women as nothing more than sex objects regardless of who they are without speaking up. You can be honest about your lack of respect for her, that's fine, but I'm going to be honest in my distaste for it."

[bachjones]

"I mean - no, whatever. This isn't Siren Cove, this is Quinn Cove. Women have been nothing more than that, Joel. Just like I'm no more than that but nooo let's all act like we're more than animals."

He meets his eyes. "I was looking for a chance to feel better, not get 'Bach is shit' from another corner. Don't hurt yourself getting into bed. It's not nice for the one that will find you in the morning."

[just_another]

"We are more than animals," Joel answers, holding Bach's gaze steadily. "And we're all deserving of respect." Then he laughs, a dry, harsh sound, not a laugh of amusement at all. "That you're taking my refusal to accept your disrespect as a personal insult says a lot. It's possible to enjoy someone's company without agreeing with every word that comes out of their mouth. It's possible to have conflict without interpreting it as someone telling another that they're shit."

But he's tired and he's drunk and his mind keeps wandering back to Spencer. "My door is always open. And for the record, were someone to say such things about you, I wouldn't stand for it either."

[bachjones]

"Respect is to be earned, not to be the default. Thank my mother for that. And company is more nice when you're not fighting, Joel. Especially not when it comes from a sweet corner."

His face softens. "Seriously, maybe don't even try the stairs. Sleep on the couch."

[just_another]

"If you consider this a fight, I'd hate for you to hear the way my sister and I speak to each other," he says with a snort before he rubs his hand over his face. The stairs are steep and they're far away and although he's managed to sit up, Bach is right. The couch will be fine.

"Make sure to come back for your computer lesson," he says. "When I'm sober."

[bachjones]

"Will I ever, or did you leave her behind in another life? Joel, man, I never had the chance for this. Ordinary stuff. Family. Something that looks like friendship. All of that outside singing and performing like a bearded monkey. So no, I don't know and I'm sorry. But I do know what I like and don't like, and I'm not going to apologize for that."

He pulls his hair back. "Sorry for your night."

[just_another]

"No, they come here every July to visit," Joel answers before he slumps back down against the couch cushions, looking at Bach, studying him. "You can come out for dinner when they're here," he decides on impulse, not entirely sure why, but for all he disagrees with what Bach has said about Lara, he does like him and the thought that he hasn't had any real friendships puts a weight on Joel's chest.

[bachjones]

"So I can be a bad influence on your sister?" It surprises him, it's a sweet offer. "I don't know, man, you'd be the first to invite me near a sister."

[just_another]

"My sister is a bad enough influence on herself," Joel answers with a snort of laughter, slumping further down into the cushions on the couch. It's a good couch and it certainly won't be the first time he's slept on it. "Besides, she can take care of herself. She's smart. Smarter than I am."

And Joel knows he's fairly smart. Maybe not educated, but he could have done a lot with his life had he wanted to bother.

[bachjones]

"Smart women hate me. It's a primal versus emotion thing, one of them told me once. But hell, everyone hates me." He's sure to not lace it with self-pity, because there's barely any around. Bach knows he's unlikeable, it's what his mother has been telling him from day one. It's the music and the stories that kept people around.
"And don't choke on your vomit either."

[just_another]

"Not everyone hates you, Bach," Joel says, tucking one arm under a cushion on the couch, propping his head up on top of it. It's not something he wants to get into now, but Bach's opinion on women is something he's glad he knows. It makes it easier for him to watch for it. "Not everyone."

[bachjones]

"Yes, you like me as long as I keep my opinions close. Same with Corry. Corrine. And Riley. And Grant, although he would at least .." He rubs his temples. "This isn't about me."

[just_another]

"If that's what you want to hear when someone challenges you, that's what you'll hear," Joel says, unwilling and too drunk to argue with it right now. He's far from the type of man who goes looking for a conflict, but Joel knows disagreements happen and they don't always need to mean a real conflict. His eyes close and he shakes his head. "People can like you without agreeing with everything you say. That's how friendships work."

[bachjones]

"What do you want from me, man? Come on, what do I do?"

[just_another]

Joel cracks one eye open, awfully close to sleep, and he thinks he should thank Bach. He's taken his mind off Spencer long enough for him to get to this state and all he can really do now is hope for a dreamless sleep before he wakes to the mother of all hangovers and has to begin mending his broken bridges. "Just your friendship," he says sleepily. "You don't have to do anything. Just... be a friend."

[bachjones]

Bach walks over to him, pats his head. "Where's your kitchen?"

[just_another]

Joel gives a snort at the pat on his head, then lifts the hand wearing the brace and points toward the stairs. "Up there. Why?" Normally he'd have insisted Bach not go up there, but he's coming to realize that keeping people out of his apartment doesn't amount to much of anything.

[bachjones]

"I'm going to drown you in water to cushion the hungover troll that will find you tomorrow." He stretches. "Don't go anywhere, curly."

[just_another]

Joel gives a grunt that's supposed to an answer, but no actual words come out. He doesn't think he's capable of moving again, not right now, although he knows he'll have to at least lift his head to drink the water Bach is bringing him. "Glasses are above the sink," he finally manages to say, though he doesn't know if Bach can hear him.

[bachjones]

"Who thinks I'm going to need glasses", he hollers, because this entire thing is one big weird joke anyway.

He returns with five glasses of water, sets them down and pulls Joel half into his lap. "Open your mouth and swallow from time to time, okay?"

[just_another]

Joel's not expecting that at all and he grunts in surprise, nearly flails, then opens his eyes blearily. "Yes, doctor," he answers, but he reaches for one of the glasses filled with water, knowing it's better he drink some now instead of waking up with the biggest headache in the world. "Thank you."

[bachjones]

"You're fast on the road to dreamy ville, aren't you." He bends over for the other two glasses. "Doesn't matter, as long as you can continue to swallow." Bach chuckles. "I promise that was not a come-on."

[just_another]

Joel makes a noise of distaste, but finishes the water and sets the empty glass down. "I'll drink more later," he promises. "If you give me anymore right now I think my bladder might burst." There's a bathroom on the first floor of the store, but it's behind the door of the locked room near the back and he doesn't even want to try to open it in this state.