A little something for Valentine's.
So, I started writing my new story and was thinking of posting a chapter for Valentine's, but I realized it's not at all romantic yet. So instead, I looked through what I'd posted here to see if I'd posted all of the Themes Challenge shorts relating to my previous stories, and I hadn't. So, for Valentine's, just for you, a short set between The Bell Tower of St. Barnabas and "A Room for Two"-Gabriel and Caleb in the "drink"-themed short titled "21." Enjoy!
21
“To twenty-one!” Caleb lifted a beer bottle and clinked it against the one in his friend’s hand.
Gabriel was looking somewhat concerned at the array of various alcohols the two had gathered on the table in front of them. He had turned twenty-one. Caleb wasn’t quite there yet. He felt like this celebration might have been a violation of the “no buying alcohol for minors” rule-not that Caleb was a minor, he just… wasn’t twenty-one.
Caleb, after taking quite a swig, pulled the bottle back in disgust. “The hell, that tastes like piss,” he muttered, before putting it down and opening up a different brand.
“Caleb,” Gabriel began warily.
“What’s the matter with you, man? You’re not drinking anything,” Caleb said, sniffing the next one before he downed it.
“Are you sure this is such a good idea? You’re not-”
Caleb interrupted him before he could make the same objection he’d been making all week. “It doesn’t matter, we’re at home. Besides, I don’t turn until the semester starts, so if we wait…” He lifted the can to his lips and took a gulp. “We might end up waiting until we’re nearly twenty-two. Shit, this one tastes like stale bread soaked in rubbing alcohol. It’s official, beer is nasty.”
Gabriel took a sip at the wine he’d poured into a very un-fancy, cheap glass. It didn’t taste as good in cheap glasses; either that or it was just because it wasn’t particularly high-end wine. It wasn’t that he didn’t see Caleb’s point. He was just hoping for an excuse. Caleb’s birthday was in September; maybe if they had an excuse to get together, they could see each other at Thanksgiving, or over Christmas break, or hell, even spring break, instead of being stuck apart for nearly a whole year again-
“’Cause you know we’re not going to see each other before next summer,” Caleb continued, giving up on the beer and trying some liquors. “Not with the kind of workload you’ve got, trying to get into med school. Holy-burn, burn! This one tastes like burn. Holy crap.”
“There’s always Christmas break,” Gabriel began.
Caleb gave him a harsh look. “You really see that working?”
Gabriel faltered. “Well, m-maybe if you went home this year…”
Caleb slammed his hands on the table and stood up. “I’m going to get some water,” he said, and left the room.
Gabriel sighed. He knew better than to say what he’d said. It was selfish to ask Caleb to endure going back home for the holidays just so they could be next-door neighbors again-not when Caleb’s father didn’t want to see his face, and Gabriel’s parents were bound and determined to keep him separated from Caleb anyway. Home had turned into hell for Caleb. Gabriel knew that. He knew that, and he’d said it anyway. He could kick himself.
When Caleb came back, he’d calmed down on the surface, but he was chugging alcohols with more enthusiasm than before. The worst of it was, he didn’t seem to have much of a tolerance. He got tipsy very quickly, and went from tipsy to full-on plastered in not much longer. As soon as Caleb let his drink slip between his fingers back onto the table and laughed like an idiot at it, and tried to take a sharpie to draw a villain moustache on his own face, Gabriel started stealthily putting all the alcohol out of reach.
Caleb left the table and flopped onto the couch. He didn’t seem to notice that Gabriel was removing the booze. He kicked the couch in a miniature tantrum. “I can’ decide if this stuff’s great or awful,” Caleb slurred. “’Slike, the room’s spinning, but I feel so free-” At this point he started taking his shirt off, and Gabriel immediately jumped at him to pull it back down.
Caleb didn’t fight him, and seemed to accept that he was going to stay dressed. He threw his arms back. “Christmas break sucks,” was the next thing he said.
“Aren’t breaks a good thing?” Gabriel asked mildly.
“Think abowdit. The last three years. I spent one Christmas with Elliott and Jinx, the latter of whom acted like I was interrupting his honeymoon. I spent one with my crazy cousin, who nearly got me arrested. And I spent one sitting on this couch, flipping through reruns of The Santa Clause and It’s a Wonderful Life before giving up and spending Christmas eating hamburger helper and reading Dickens.” He laughed that weird way drunks do. “Dickens was the only part I liked.”
Gabriel’s smile faltered. “I’m sorry, Caleb,” he said quietly.
“What’re you sorry for? It’s my asswipe of a dad’s fault for kickin’ me out.”
“But it’s my fault he kicked you out. And that you’re not allowed in my house anymore.”
“’Snot. You know ’snot. It’s the ’rents-damn ’rents-”
“Caleb.” Gabriel knelt down by the end of the couch where Caleb had dropped his head. “Do you regret it?”
Caleb turned his head over to look at Gabriel. He seemed a little more sober than he just had-or maybe that was Gabriel’s imagination. “Dun regret nothin’,” he declared shortly. “They don’t want us together, fine. They can say whatever the hell they want, they can make whatever rules they want, but they’re not the bossa me. I’ll do what I want.” Caleb stretched his arms out, grabbed Gabriel around the neck, pulled him in, and kissed him.
Gabriel expected Caleb to let go of him pretty quickly and resume drunken blathering, but that wasn’t happening. Caleb wasn’t letting him go. He wasn’t stopping. He was slipping tongue-
Gabriel’s conscious mind shut down. He didn’t even mind that the kisses tasted like assorted alcohols that didn’t mix into anything pleasant. He just kissed back, lost to the world. Here was Caleb, drunk out of his mind and more honest than ever, and he was saying he didn’t regret their relationship-he was happy they were together, even if he and his father hadn’t gotten along a day in four years because of it-he had miserable Christmases and spent the better part of every year alone, but he didn’t regret it-
It took Gabriel a little while to notice Caleb’s fingers slipping under his shirt. By the time he did, his drunk boyfriend was halfway to undressing him. Gabriel jumped backwards. “Okay, now I’m really on the verge of doing something illegal. Come on, we’re getting you into bed. -By yourself,” he added, when Caleb seemed to take that as an invitation.
Ten minutes and some physical dragging got Caleb asleep in bed and Gabriel cleaning up his high school sweetheart’s apartment. Gabriel collapsed on the couch with a glass of whatever the last thing he’d put away was. That was close-if he hadn’t stopped it, Caleb would have been pissed come morning. At least now he could tackle his first murderous hangover without seething regret on top of it. Though part of Gabriel was regretting he hadn’t taken the chance while he’d had it.
He took a swig of his drink. The taste was a little too strong.
Gabriel found he too was ending the eve of his twenty-first birthday unsure if alcohol was great or awful.
Happy Valentine's!
-ALiCe
P.S. I hate this new journal editor. Where did the "switch to old" option go? I can't paste from Word into this stupid thing! I had to paste into another program and copy again... and it magically loses letters in the post, despite all of them being there in the editor. WTF.
21
“To twenty-one!” Caleb lifted a beer bottle and clinked it against the one in his friend’s hand.
Gabriel was looking somewhat concerned at the array of various alcohols the two had gathered on the table in front of them. He had turned twenty-one. Caleb wasn’t quite there yet. He felt like this celebration might have been a violation of the “no buying alcohol for minors” rule-not that Caleb was a minor, he just… wasn’t twenty-one.
Caleb, after taking quite a swig, pulled the bottle back in disgust. “The hell, that tastes like piss,” he muttered, before putting it down and opening up a different brand.
“Caleb,” Gabriel began warily.
“What’s the matter with you, man? You’re not drinking anything,” Caleb said, sniffing the next one before he downed it.
“Are you sure this is such a good idea? You’re not-”
Caleb interrupted him before he could make the same objection he’d been making all week. “It doesn’t matter, we’re at home. Besides, I don’t turn until the semester starts, so if we wait…” He lifted the can to his lips and took a gulp. “We might end up waiting until we’re nearly twenty-two. Shit, this one tastes like stale bread soaked in rubbing alcohol. It’s official, beer is nasty.”
Gabriel took a sip at the wine he’d poured into a very un-fancy, cheap glass. It didn’t taste as good in cheap glasses; either that or it was just because it wasn’t particularly high-end wine. It wasn’t that he didn’t see Caleb’s point. He was just hoping for an excuse. Caleb’s birthday was in September; maybe if they had an excuse to get together, they could see each other at Thanksgiving, or over Christmas break, or hell, even spring break, instead of being stuck apart for nearly a whole year again-
“’Cause you know we’re not going to see each other before next summer,” Caleb continued, giving up on the beer and trying some liquors. “Not with the kind of workload you’ve got, trying to get into med school. Holy-burn, burn! This one tastes like burn. Holy crap.”
“There’s always Christmas break,” Gabriel began.
Caleb gave him a harsh look. “You really see that working?”
Gabriel faltered. “Well, m-maybe if you went home this year…”
Caleb slammed his hands on the table and stood up. “I’m going to get some water,” he said, and left the room.
Gabriel sighed. He knew better than to say what he’d said. It was selfish to ask Caleb to endure going back home for the holidays just so they could be next-door neighbors again-not when Caleb’s father didn’t want to see his face, and Gabriel’s parents were bound and determined to keep him separated from Caleb anyway. Home had turned into hell for Caleb. Gabriel knew that. He knew that, and he’d said it anyway. He could kick himself.
When Caleb came back, he’d calmed down on the surface, but he was chugging alcohols with more enthusiasm than before. The worst of it was, he didn’t seem to have much of a tolerance. He got tipsy very quickly, and went from tipsy to full-on plastered in not much longer. As soon as Caleb let his drink slip between his fingers back onto the table and laughed like an idiot at it, and tried to take a sharpie to draw a villain moustache on his own face, Gabriel started stealthily putting all the alcohol out of reach.
Caleb left the table and flopped onto the couch. He didn’t seem to notice that Gabriel was removing the booze. He kicked the couch in a miniature tantrum. “I can’ decide if this stuff’s great or awful,” Caleb slurred. “’Slike, the room’s spinning, but I feel so free-” At this point he started taking his shirt off, and Gabriel immediately jumped at him to pull it back down.
Caleb didn’t fight him, and seemed to accept that he was going to stay dressed. He threw his arms back. “Christmas break sucks,” was the next thing he said.
“Aren’t breaks a good thing?” Gabriel asked mildly.
“Think abowdit. The last three years. I spent one Christmas with Elliott and Jinx, the latter of whom acted like I was interrupting his honeymoon. I spent one with my crazy cousin, who nearly got me arrested. And I spent one sitting on this couch, flipping through reruns of The Santa Clause and It’s a Wonderful Life before giving up and spending Christmas eating hamburger helper and reading Dickens.” He laughed that weird way drunks do. “Dickens was the only part I liked.”
Gabriel’s smile faltered. “I’m sorry, Caleb,” he said quietly.
“What’re you sorry for? It’s my asswipe of a dad’s fault for kickin’ me out.”
“But it’s my fault he kicked you out. And that you’re not allowed in my house anymore.”
“’Snot. You know ’snot. It’s the ’rents-damn ’rents-”
“Caleb.” Gabriel knelt down by the end of the couch where Caleb had dropped his head. “Do you regret it?”
Caleb turned his head over to look at Gabriel. He seemed a little more sober than he just had-or maybe that was Gabriel’s imagination. “Dun regret nothin’,” he declared shortly. “They don’t want us together, fine. They can say whatever the hell they want, they can make whatever rules they want, but they’re not the bossa me. I’ll do what I want.” Caleb stretched his arms out, grabbed Gabriel around the neck, pulled him in, and kissed him.
Gabriel expected Caleb to let go of him pretty quickly and resume drunken blathering, but that wasn’t happening. Caleb wasn’t letting him go. He wasn’t stopping. He was slipping tongue-
Gabriel’s conscious mind shut down. He didn’t even mind that the kisses tasted like assorted alcohols that didn’t mix into anything pleasant. He just kissed back, lost to the world. Here was Caleb, drunk out of his mind and more honest than ever, and he was saying he didn’t regret their relationship-he was happy they were together, even if he and his father hadn’t gotten along a day in four years because of it-he had miserable Christmases and spent the better part of every year alone, but he didn’t regret it-
It took Gabriel a little while to notice Caleb’s fingers slipping under his shirt. By the time he did, his drunk boyfriend was halfway to undressing him. Gabriel jumped backwards. “Okay, now I’m really on the verge of doing something illegal. Come on, we’re getting you into bed. -By yourself,” he added, when Caleb seemed to take that as an invitation.
Ten minutes and some physical dragging got Caleb asleep in bed and Gabriel cleaning up his high school sweetheart’s apartment. Gabriel collapsed on the couch with a glass of whatever the last thing he’d put away was. That was close-if he hadn’t stopped it, Caleb would have been pissed come morning. At least now he could tackle his first murderous hangover without seething regret on top of it. Though part of Gabriel was regretting he hadn’t taken the chance while he’d had it.
He took a swig of his drink. The taste was a little too strong.
Gabriel found he too was ending the eve of his twenty-first birthday unsure if alcohol was great or awful.
Happy Valentine's!
-ALiCe
P.S. I hate this new journal editor. Where did the "switch to old" option go? I can't paste from Word into this stupid thing! I had to paste into another program and copy again... and it magically loses letters in the post, despite all of them being there in the editor. WTF.