Who: Anton and Louis What: Drinking! Where: Anton's apartment When: Shortly after Christmas Warnings/Rating: None.
Truth be told Anton Sparke was glad to have company, he hadn’t had company (actual good company) in ages. He’d had his house cleaned earlier in the day and everything. He’d been working exceptionally long hours - as he usually did when there was no one to tell him to stop, and he had been doing anything he could to pay attention to things other than the disarray his own life had fallen into.
It wasn’t as bad as it had been in the past, he hadn’t made it onto the news, and he hadn’t crashed an expensive sports car into a building. He considered these all small victories. Nell was out of the county - and he was glad of it. She was doing fabulously. And James. Well that was complicated and well beyond anything he wanted to think about right then. He was just taking his suit jacket off when he heard the knock on the door, he laid it over the back of the couch and walked to the door humming to himself. Company would do him some good, he knew it would. He opened the door and grinned, “I see no bells,” he said stepping aside so Louis could come in.
“I forgot them,” Louis said, with a small smile, moving past Anton into the apartment.
It was good to see Anton, considering the mess the past few weeks had been. With Sam in and then out of rehab and now this catastrophe with Neil and Sam and Neil’s ex-girlfriend, things on the relative front were difficult to say the least. No one ought to be in the position he was in, filially obligated to both sides of a relationship spat. Harder still, he knew who he actually found himself siding with in this particular debate, and that just complicated things further. Neil was being a complete and utter ass. And his behavior went beyond just causing a breakup of their pseudo, untalked about relationship - Sam seemed tenuously on the wagon at best, and something like this could shove her off. And then there was the fact that he was much more involved in all of this than he had any desire to be whatsoever. And there was his own relationship debacle - and everything Loki had been up to through the door, and that he didn’t want to think about at all, if he could help it. It would only be a matter of time until someone decided to hold him responsible for that.
He was just so tired. It had been so long since he’d had good news of any kind that he was starting to get used to his family and his relationships being a kind of rolling nightmare, new wounds accumulating before the old ones had a chance to heal. A break from all of it to get drunk sounded like precisely what the doctor ordered. He was carrying a small bag with the very expensive alcohol Anton had bought him for Christmas inside. “I hope your week has been better than mine,” he said, wry, looking around the apartment.
“I’m sure there’s a bell around here somewhere, we should put it around one of our necks so we don’t get lost and lose touch for weeks at a time,” he said chuckling a bit as he closed the door. “There’s a sitting room to the right,” he said pointing that direction. The sitting room was comfortable, it was separate from the room with the TV and ridiculous electronics with ridiculous buttons, but the sitting room was comfortable. Quiet, there was even a fire, and bookshelves along all of the walls. One of Anton’s desks was in the corner, littered with a few papers, but this wasn’t his work room so it didn’t have the “organized chaos” of an actual office. There was a couch and two easy chairs and a mini bar in the corner. The room was warm and Anton spent more time in here than he cared to admit when he wanted to think. He didn’t want to be a “sitting room” guy. He wanted to be a lab guy, but there was noticeable wear on the dark red rug covering the hardwood floor where plenty of pacing had taken place over many a long night.
He entered the room and made his way to the bar and opened the bottle Louis had sent him and grinned, “The bar is open.”
For such a large flat, the place seemed surprisingly comfortable. Louis had been well-off for as long as he could remember - his parents weren't billionaires, but they certainly moved through the circles of the upper class. Still, the expansive homes of the exceedingly rich still caught him a little off guard, especially the minimalist apartments so many rich bachelors apparently favored. Almost predictably, Anton's apartment was comfortable. Even homey. "I like this place," he said, taking in the computers, the bar, the thick chairs. "It is very you."
"Thank God," Louis said, with unfeigned relief, and joined Anton at the bar, opening his own bottle up. "We'll trade. Neat, or on the rocks?"
Anton grinned, “Thank you,” he said about his place. He rather liked it too, for a guy who worked as much as he did he needed to be in spaces that he was comfortable with. And for him that meant comfortable furniture and an ungodly amount of tech lying around.
“Rough day? Week? Decade?” he asked with a slight chuckle because it really could have been any of the above for either one of them at that point. “Neat, you?”
“Neat,” Louis said, without hesitation. He didn’t drink whiskey all that often, but when he did, there seemed no sense in watering it down. If he was drinking it, there was most likely a very good reason. “All of the above,” he said, and handed Anton his glass before moving to sit down in one of those very comfortable looking chairs. “You first, though. How have things been since I saw you last? Any movement on the gentleman in Africa?”
Anton took his drink to the chair opposite Louis and sat down and took an impressive drink from his glass. It was tasty, and it felt warm going down and he sat back comfortably. “Well, my kid left Vegas, she was,” he didn’t want to air Nell’s dirty laundry, but it had affected him as well. “She had some mental health issues I’m afraid. Getting out was the best thing for her. She really needed to sort through some things, I was so worried - and her father was as well. But she’s been sounding better and better, so that’s good news. Shortly after she left James suddenly left to save AIDS orphans in Africa. And what kind of an ass gets mad about something like that?” and he had struggled with it. He’d struggled hard with it, and it was eating at him. Maybe James was off to save the world, maybe it wasn’t personal. But it felt personal. He sighed and took another drink, “Apparently this kind of ass,” he admitted with a shake of his head.
"You're not an ass," Louis said, levelling his gaze at Anton. "Two people you care about left town at the same time, and you were upset. You felt abandoned. I know what that's like." He sank a little deeper into his chair, picking up his own glass and taking a sip. "Whatever reason he was leaving for, if it was spur of the moment, it was selfish, plain and simple. Not to be callous, but the orphans could have waited a little while you got sorted. And you said he had commitment problems, right? I would have suspected he was running too, if that's what you thought. It seems too convenient. You had every right to be upset."
It wasn’t that Anton hadn’t thought all of these things, he certainly had. He’d been back and forth over it in his mind and he was just glad that it didn’t seem as if he was somehow crazy. There was a valid reason to feel the way he did, and that alone meant something to him and some of the tension eased out of his shoulders just a bit as Louis spoke. “I have spent a very long time, longer than this, a good portion of my life either ignoring my feelings or those of others, and likewise being pretty damned certain that they were invalid in any case,” he said almost offhand and surprised that it had come out at all. He wasn’t one to talk about things like this, even when James had told him to he’d struggled with it then as well. “I don’t know if they’re commitment problems as much as they are a complete lack of desire to do it. He said he was willing,” he chuckled. “And then went to Africa.” None of this had ever been a problem before, when Anton wasn’t 40 and didn’t feel like he wanted to settle down. He’d kept up with James right along with him. Healed the epic heartbreak with a life full of fun and non-issues and now he was sick of that. And he was an old man. Lovely. “He’s my heart surgeon,” he said with a bit of a wry smile. “Something to be said about the man who quite literally held my heart in his hands so I wouldn’t die. Twice.” It was whimsical and Anton was slightly amused by the notion but he was also getting up to refill his drink. “I know we didn’t just come here to talk all about me.”
"I find it hard to believe that you ever ignored someone else's feelings," Louis said. It wasn't just an attempt at comforting him. The very thought of Anton turning a blind eye to someone who needed him, or hurting them by ignoring how they felt, was difficult to imagine. "Not when you've been so repeatedly tolerant of me, and everyone in my family."
Louis swirled the whiskey in his glass, taking another sip. The burn, and the settling calm it promised, was immensely satisfying. "Then he has commitment problems," Louis said, watching Anton. "He wouldn't have promised to stay first if he simply wanted to go, unless he is a very devious person. It sounds as if he did have feelings for you. So I would guess fear must be at the heart of it." He shook his head. "Either way, he deserves your pity, but not your longing. You deserve better."
"Heart surgeon? You're young, though. I didn't know you had heart problems." Young to Louis, anyway, whatever Anton thought about himself. He didn't know anyone Anton's age already having heart surgeries. "I assume that must have made him seem very dashing indeed," he said, with a small smile. That faded when Anton pointed out that there were other subjects to discuss. "Oh...sod all that," he said, taking a longer sip of his whiskey. His gaze fell on the fire. Such a soothing thing to watch, almost hypnotizing. "I don't remember what I've told you and what I haven't. Suffice to say, it's been a long year."
Anton sighed, “Not intentionally, but when you’re a self absorbed billionaire genius who is on the front page of every magazine in the world it becomes very easy not to notice other people’s feelings, a hard lesson learned and I think I overcorrected quite a bit when trying to change,” he said with a genuine laugh, mostly because at this point he would drop anything to make someone feel better. To avoid learning hard lessons that he’d had to learn. “I was a late bloomer in the whole growing up and becoming a man thing I’m afraid.” He wasn’t altogether proud of it, but he had been once. Not a care in the world it was easier but lonelier.
“He is not a devious person, I think he did - or does - have feelings. I also think that he and I are both guilty of things like running off. When I started to notice my feelings were going beyond casual fun, and science and sex, I didn’t think he’d appreciate that so I did the most logical thing and moved to Las Vegas. Perhaps he shouldn’t have come out here either.”
Too young for heart problems, Anton wished. “I thought so too, I was involved in a lab accident, electricity was not kind to me. And it apparently did a number on an already weak heart - a mistake in my design,” he said chuckling. “It was a very bad year that year, I lost some people close to me, had a broken heart quite literally and figuratively. Nell’s father took pity on me and brought me to his house in Georgia to get well. I mellowed out, healed - mostly - it’s still ticking anyway, and got back on my feet out of the public eye. And focused on things that mattered instead of superficial things that didn’t. Almost dying tends to make you want to immediately change everything about your life. I was a mess for the better part of a year before snapping out of it.” He was all about the sharing tonight it seemed as he finally poured himself another glass and moved to sit back down, he juggled both bottles with him and sat them on the table between the two chairs.
“I hope you’re meaning the previous year, because we’re at the very beginning of the new one. Hopefully it’s a bit less tumultuous for the both of us. Because you also deserve better,” he said giving him a pointed look.
"I can see how that could happen," Louis said. "Though I still find it hard to imagine that it did." Louis had always had money, but not nearly so much as Anton. Almost no one had as much money as Anton did, to be fair. "I've met a few of those," he said, bemused. "Self-absorbed billionaires. You don't strike me as being one, not anymore, if you ever were."
Louis shrugged. "We're all flawed, and we're all scared," he said, with a faint smile. "I know that better than most." He finished his whiskey at that. It was absolutely excellent, but all he really wanted was to get another glass in him. In a moment - it could wait. Then Anton brought the bottle to him, though, and all bets were off. He opened it again, pouring out another glass. "No wonder you've managed to become such a good man now, after all of that," Louis said, looking up and Anton and smiling, warmly. He didn't smile very much - not lately, not ever. There had never been much in his life worth smiling about. It did quite a bit for the all-too-often worried or somber furrow of his brow.
"The previous one," Louis confirmed, and took a sip of the fresh glass. Deserved better? He laughed a little, not necessarily kindly, this time. "I don't know what I deserve. But I would like a little peace for the everyone in my family. They could all use a share."
Anton was actually glad he wasn’t coming off like a self absorbed billionaire, he knew he was absorbed in his work, but he’d tried quite hard to be a better person once he realized what a shit he’d actually become. “I was,” he said sincerely. “But I am really fucking glad to know that I’m not anymore.”
“I hate to be the guy that you see on television talking about new leases on life - because I don’t think I see it that way. I think I could have easily died and easily been remembered by some and forgotten by others, and I’d have been dead and not known the difference. But I knew,” he furrowed his brow a bit, “When I woke up alive, and I realized that when I’d gone to sleep I really didn’t care whether I woke back up or not, I didn’t want to feel that way again. And it took a long time to figure that out.” He smiled back, the evening was about trying to enjoy their very expensive beverages and a night without whatever was going on outside beating down their doors.
He held up his glass toward Louis, “To a little bit of peace for everyone,” he said agreeing whole heartedly. His family could use a bit as well. Even James. Maybe. “And like you said, we’re all flawed, and we’re all scared - so if you’re going to sit in that chair and accuse me of deserving something, I’m going to do the same to you.” He said smiling back widely.
Louis had no idea before this conversation that Anton's life had involved so much tumult and strife. It was a shame, but heartening to hear, in a way. He'd come out of the other side of it a better man, and pushed on, with no sign that he had been scarred by it or torn apart. Maybe such things were possible for everyone. He had to hope so. Louis lifted his glass, returning the gesture of toast. "I suppose I can only take it, then, if you must reciprocate," he said, with a small, warm smile. "To peace. I can drink to that."
Anton grinned and took a rather impressive swig from his glass and chuckled. “Though a bit of peace for yourself probably wouldn’t be unwelcome either,” he said and drank to that just because. “It’s easy to hope good things for others, but I demand you think good things for yourself as well. Remember I’m a spoiled billionaire so I’m used to getting what I want,” he said only half serious because per their previous conversation he rarely got what he wanted in the end. But he was trying.
"I'll do what I can to appease you," Louis said, still smiling a bit. "I wouldn't want to deflate your expectations." Louis still hadn't quite figured out why Anton was so kind to him. Perhaps he was just lucky, or perhaps Anton was simply kind to everyone after his apparent grand reform. Either way, there was no reason to look a gift horse in the mouth. He downed the rest of his glass. He'd begun to feel comfortably warm and loose, with the world failing to follow quiet as fast as he turned his head, which was an excellent sign.