Desolation Row [MxM]

Chapter 09

When Joel mentioned a little get-together, that was exactly what I anticipated—a little get-together. A couple people. Maybe some food. This was not what I expected.

There were a bunch of people roaming around a house, most of them our age, some of them considerably older, and almost everyone was drunk or something that wasn't exactly drunk, but not exactly sober either.

None of the drinks were safe. I knew because I'd just gotten a soda, and that was all I'd had but I could tell there was something wrong. I felt odd. But when I'd asked Joel about it, he just laughed and told me not to worry about it. So, I tried not to pay too much attention to it, and limited my drink intake, while a bunch of other people were sitting in a circle with a beer bottle in the middle. I'd heard of the whole 'spin the bottle' game, but I'd never actually seen it played in person. I wasn't sure if it was typically how the game was played, but apparently, whoever spun the bottle got to kiss whoever the bottle landed on.

Which explained why Brielle and Joel were in the middle of a pretty intense lip-lock, other people around them cheering it on. “Yeah, get it! Give her some fuckin' tongue, kiss like a man!” some said loudly, making me glance over. It was a white guy with shaggy hair, swaying precariously as he held another bottle in his hand and started chugging it. From what I'd been told he was Brielle's boyfriend. His name started with an 'A', but I couldn't quite remember it.

And that was the basis of my first party. A lot of kissing, and a lot of drinking. I didn't mean to, but given the fact that apparently everything had alcohol in it, I wound up getting drunk. At least, I assumed I was. It felt like it. It was hard to stand, and talk, and really do anything other than just sit on the couch and try to avoid touching the couple next to me with their tongues down each other's throats.

I'd never been drunk before. I'd never even touched anything with alcohol. But I felt pretty good.

At some point Joel came over and sat with me, putting his arm around my shoulders again. “How you feeling?” he asked, talking loudly to be heard over the music and the voices. It took me a second, but I managed a laugh as I nodded, the movement feeling more overly done than necessary, but I was too far gone to care.

“I—I feel great. Really, really good.” I answered. “Better than I have in...a while.”

Joel seemed to find my response amusing, and he just nodded as he patted my shoulder, then moved on to do his own thing. I could barely even get off the couch, but every now and then someone came by to give me a new drink, so I wasn't complaining. Everything felt like it was moving in slow-motion, and it was just this sensation that I didn't know what to do with, but I enjoyed it. I didn't have to think, or do anything. Just sit back and drink.

A few hours later, or maybe not quite so long, you lose focus of time in these situations—some time later, Joel came back to me, seeming a lot less sober than when he left. He helped me stand up from the couch, which was a feat in itself as he was stumbling as bad as I was, and we spilled something in the process, but neither of us paid any attention. With some effort, we both made it up the stairs and into a bedroom, laughing and stumbling over each other until we fell onto the bed.

I didn't even stop to think why we were in a bedroom. It wasn't like I could really question it anyway.

I laid there next to Joel for a few minutes, both of us still chuckling quietly before I turned and moved to sit up a little. Leaning down over him, I didn't even think twice before pressing my mouth to his, exhaling softly at the feeling of it. When I pulled back, we stared at each other for a second before he spoke. “You know I'm straight, right?” he asked, starting to smile.

All I could do was sigh heavily in disappointment before I started laughing again, Joel joining in as I moved to lay back down. I don't know how long I laid there next to him, just staring up at the ceiling above us, but eventually I heard soft snores and glanced over, seeing Joel knocked out. Sometime after that, I passed out as well.

I didn't wake up again until there was sunlight streaming right into my eyes, making me squeeze them shut and roll over, away from the offending object. My head was pounding, and the brightness of the sun just made it worse. No part of my body wanted to cooperate and move for a while, until I managed to get my eyes open, blinking a few times to get the bleariness to go away.

I wasn't in my bed. I wasn't even in my room. I had no idea where I was, or why I was there. And oddly enough, I didn't panic like I thought I would. I stayed pretty calm, ignoring the nauseous feeling in favor of trying to remember what happened.

The most I was able to pick up was Joel and Brielle kissing, and sitting on a couch before it all got fuzzy. So I gave up trying, rolling back over and blinking against the sunlight to see Joel laying beside me. His shirt had ridden up at some point, revealing what I suspected to be the beginning of a tattoo on his side. I couldn't make myself move closer to see it though. He almost always had on long sleeves, so I had no clue if there were more on his arms. I was aware of the cross he had on the side of one of his middle fingers though.

Looking up, I noticed his mouth was partially open, quiet breathing sounds coming out of it every time he exhaled. If I wasn't hungover, and if this whole thing wasn't his fault, I might find him fairly attractive like that.

Rolling my eyes at myself, I focused more on trying to get into a sitting position, reaching over to roughly shove Joel's shoulder once I managed it. He made a considerably less attractive snorting noise before he shifted, groaning quietly. “Joel, get up. I want to go home.” I told him.

“You weren't sayin' that last night,” he muttered with a quiet snort. I settled for glaring at him instead of responding, and after a minute he finally opened his eyes, blinking a few times up at the ceiling. Eventually he sat up, slowly making his way up from the bed and toward the door as I followed him. We had to walk carefully through the house, avoiding the almost lifeless bodies of teenagers and adults with questionable morals that were spread out on the floor and furniture.

The drive to the apartment complex was silent, neither Joel or myself having the ability to talk past the raging headaches. We entered the building together, but walked to our respective apartments, where I unlocked the door as quietly as I could. That apparently wasn't necessary, because when I walked in, the first thing I noticed was Charlie, sitting at the table. He looked up when he heard me, and I paused in the middle of the living room. “Where were you?” he asked.

“I—I just went out, with a couple friends. It was really late when we got back though, so we just crashed at one of their houses.” I explained. It was a little surprising, how easily it was getting to lie.

Charlie seemed to think that over for a second before raising his eyebrows. “I didn't know you had friends,” he said, making me glare slightly. “I just mean you don't mention anybody, other than your friends from Lakeview. It's good though, that you've got friends here. I'm glad. Just uh, try to be home next time, okay?”

I nodded a little in response, moving to walk by Charlie and go into my room. I was exhausted still, and more than anything I wanted to sleep the headache away. And that was precisely what I did. I fell right onto my bed and passed out again, not waking up until a few hours later, when Charlie was at work.

The first thing I did after checking that Charlie was gone was to go right to my bottom drawer.