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Fisher Majors ([info]hearitbleed) wrote in [info]halcyon_halls,
@ 2008-11-18 21:42:00

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Entry tags:fisher, james

Week 22- Thursday
Who: James and Fisher
What: Drinking until we can't feel feelings anymore
Where: The Local Dive
When: Night


It was Thirsty Thursday, and Fisher felt he deserved a little numbness. He had agreed not to imbibe alcohol as part of his condition for being at Halcyon, all expenses paid, but... fuck that. The old man (who Fisher did not even know) had no clue what life was like in Fisher's shoes. He didn't deal with random dead people asking favors of him, or with the strange looks received when Fisher told said needy spirits to shut up. There were students here who had it worse, that was true. But it didn't make Fisher's situation suck any less. Besides, he wasn't drinking to get totally smashed. He just needed to relax. That and find something to do. He'd come in too late in the semester, so he didn't have classes yet to occupy his time.

The bartender set down a shotglass in front of Fisher, tossed in three ice cubes and poured in two ounces of straight scotch from one of those tiny portion-nozzled bottles. Fisher nodded a thanks, then sipped. He could've gulped it down, but rehab had benefitted him enough for him to know that yes, he had had a drinking problem and it hadn't solved anything. So it was best not to try and drown yourself.

Fisher's garb was subdued tonight, decked out in his Gears of War hoodie and downplayed zipper pants. Fisher liked emo clothing- the style was far too ridiculous to resist, and before living like a hobo he had access to a lot of money. Coming from a wealthy family had its advantages. Luckily he'd managed to keep most of his clothing, despite having nowhere to live for months at a time. He'd decided not to get all decked out tonight, just in case the locals at the bar did not approve of rich boys who dressed like they knew a damn thing about hardship. (It didn't matter that this former rich boy actually did know hardship- when you wear clothing that costs more than some people make in a week, you lose the right to complain about anything.) So tonight there were no hanging chains on his pants, not eyeliner around his eyes and his long, unruly hair was at the very least pushed behind his ears.

As he took another sip of his poison, he sighed contentedly and readied himself for a peaceful night alone.

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[info]jamesownsit
2008-11-19 06:07 pm UTC (link)
Maybe James would have had some smart ass remark to say in response to the whole "pickling himself" suggestion, but he honestly didn't hear it, regardless of his heightened senses. The Patron had done a number on his head and though his senses were normally amplified, they were no better than a normal, average, run of the mill human right about now. Perhaps that was a good thing.

"Really? Wasn't my mum this time?" He asked, and then laughed sharply and abruptly before the sound died away and he focused his intense gaze upon the glass as he opened up the bottle and filled it up to the brim, trying not to spill a single drop. "What does it look like I'm doing? Same thing you are, I'd wager." Though that last part wasn't even right.

"First of all, Fisher, I stidinctly remember that it was you who darkened my doorstep to begin with." Yes, he had certainly fucked up that one word, but he kept on talking like he didn't even notice, and he didn't. "And second of all, I don't recall saying I don't like you. I don't even know you. I just don't like what you were trying to sell." He nodded his head. "There's a difference."

"Now come on, mate..." He said, holding up his now full glass of Scotch. "How about a toast?" Of course what they were toasting, he wasn't really sure. "We can toast to... to... Well hell, let's toast to not giving a fuck. Sound good?" He didn't wait before he moved his glass forward, clinking an imaginary glass that Fisher could have been holding, and then downed the amber liquid with a shudder.

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[info]hearitbleed
2008-11-19 08:39 pm UTC (link)
Fisher sneered at James. "No, it was not your mom, actually," he informed him. "Although she's still tailing you, if you must know." And she was- Sloane was drifting about in the corner looking weepy and lost. She knew trying to talk to her son was useless, so now she sort of followed him about when she could and stared at him longingly.

As he watched James make a drunken ass of himself, Fisher couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of pity. He had been in James' position before many, many times. It was sad on that side and it was sad on this one too. "I'm not trying to get hammered," he told James, "and I'm not toasting anything with you. Because even if you're ambivilant towards me, I have a definite opinion of you." He decided not to voice this opinion, not yet at least. James was probably still sober enough to take a swing.

Taking the bottle of scotch, Fisher got to his feet and placed it onto the shelf behind the bar, safely out of the drunken demon's reach. "You're cut off," he told James, while taking a sip of his own beverage. "In fact, we both are." He drained the rest of his glass, grimmaced, then slid it down the bar aways. "I'm not supposed to be drinking at all," he confessed. "Rehab and whatnot." He eyed his glassy-eyes companion up and down, trying to decide what you did with a short-tempered drunkard you didn't like in the least. "What the hell are you drinking about, anyway?" he wondered aloud. "You didn't seem real choked upi about your mom's death, so that can't be it. Can't be lack of sex, you had some girl more than willing just a minute ago. Can't be loneliness. Guy like you probably has friends dripping off him, both real ones and bought." Fisher tapped a finger against his soft lips. "So... what could it be, then?"

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[info]jamesownsit
2008-11-19 09:34 pm UTC (link)
James had to roll his eyes to that suggestion. He didn't believe she was tailing him, for one, and for two, he didn't care. He was glad to be rid of her, or so he told himself. She'd been dead to him for a very long time and it was about time that the flesh caught up. Really all of his anger and animosity was a defense mechanism that he would eventually let go of, but for now, he was content, and more emotionally sound, in just letting that wall remain up as it was right now.

"You're now the only one. But you know what they say." He shrugged his shoulders slightly. "Opinions are like assholes."

He didn't appreciate one bit that the bottle was taken away, and he quickly let that be known. "I paid for that bottle and I expect to drink the entire thing. So one of you," Meaning either Fisher or the barkeep, "better bring it back here." Which the bartender would, even if Fisher didn't approve, for fear of upsetting the drunken demon, for one, and for two, losing his patronage. The tip he'd given him over the price of the bottle was quite a nice one, after all.

"You don't know shit about me, little boy." James stated dryly, his drunken jovialness seemingly sapped from him at the mere suggestion that he possibly could. And at that, he gave up on the glass and simply took the bottle in hand to drink straight from it. When he realized this, he sort of laughed, but in all honesty, it pissed him off. He shouldn't go down this road again. He said he wasn't going to and he had meant it. So then why was he here acting exactly the same as he had been back then? Why couldn't he stop it when it wasn't at all what he wanted?

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[info]hearitbleed
2008-11-20 11:19 am UTC (link)
"You're not the only one. But you know what they say... Opinions are like assholes." Fisher simply could not resist. "Oh, so you're king of opinions, too?" he jibed. Well, maybe he would get a black eye tonight. Certainly wouldn't be the worst date he'd ever been on. (Hold on there, little boy! Who said anything about a date? Just because he paid for the alcohol doesn't mean he's trying to seduce you.) Fisher laughed at his own thoughts. Of course it wasn't a date, and of course he wasn't being seduced. And dear God what a horrid thought that was to begin with.

"That's true," Fisher admitted to James' stereotypical drunken tirade. "I sure as hell don't know shit about you. I simply can't figure you out. Gimme that," he added, taking the bottle from James' weak grasp and drinking three large gulps. God, it was awful. It burned and stung the entire way down, as though it was fighting every inch. He shuddere, then handed the scotch back. "I suppose if you're gonna drink until you die, I can't stop you." But he couldn't leave him there to rot, could he? Could he? Why the hell not? Because he, Fisher, had been there before. Maybe if someone had cared enough to take care of him, or at least try, things might have been different. Or at the very least, he'd have less liver damage.

"I can't stop you," he repeated, "but I guess I can make sure you get home safely." He slid his shotglass in front of James, indicating that he should pour him another.

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[info]jamesownsit
2008-11-20 06:23 pm UTC (link)
"Funny. Really." James snarled in response to him being king of opinions. But he couldn't deny the truth. He was in fact an asshole. There really wasn't anything he could do to change that. He had tried and failed. He would always fail. It seemed that that was the only thing he was good at. There he went with the self hate again. He really needed to work on that, but it was difficult not to hate yourself when everyone around you did.

He filled up the shot glass when it was slid towards him and then raised the bottle to his lips. He nearly choked on it, eyes watering as the amber liquid burned its way down. "Ha!" He said, and then scoffed. "Home." That word was just.. well it was like salt to an open wound. "Why bother?" No one else would. Everyone that had given the least little bit of a shit about him had either turned their back on him or died.

"Life is shit, ya know?" He said it rather suddenly and rather matter of fact. "And it's like... you know it's shit and you try to fix it and it just gets even worse. The more ya try, the worse it is. Makes it hard not to wish..." He let his words trail off then and shook his head. "Never mind." The bottle was brought to his lips once more, another eye burning swig compounding his issues.

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[info]hearitbleed
2008-11-20 07:08 pm UTC (link)
"Life is shit," Fisher agreed, tossing back his drink with another grimmace. "No," he corrected, "life is like stepping in shit. You try to get it off, you enlist friends to help, but really? All you're doing is getting shit all over everything you like and everyone who cares about you." He polished off his shot, then slid the glass over for a refill. "And everyone does it to you too. I pulled a lot of people through a lot of shit. But I think about it, and my parents pulled me through all their shit too. The only decent one is my little brother. And he's gotta be twenty or so by now, so he's probably an asshole too."

He sipped his brew, contemplating. "What brought you here?" he asked, hoping that if he started a conversation them James might drink less, or maybe just drink less often. Give him more time to sober up between shots. "Your mom said you came after a fire, so I'm guessing that's why. If, in fact, you work with fire. You might be a vampire, I dunno." He took another sip. "But your face isn't all burned up, so I'm guessing no near death experience. You're pretty handsome, actually." This last part was said into his tumbler and he drank.

"So," he said casually, "what's the story behind James? You seem like the type who likes to talk about himself. So indulge me."

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[info]jamesownsit
2008-11-20 07:41 pm UTC (link)
That was probably one of the best ways he had ever heard it put in his life. His parents dragged him through shit and, in turn, he dragged everyone else he knew and cared about through shit as well. "I have a little sister. She's around that age too, I guess." He wasn't entirely sure how old she was. Hell, half the time he could barely remember how old he was. "She took off after mom died. Dunno where she is right now." And that was only one of the issues that plagued his mind.

A smirk graced his lips at the last remark, another swig taken from the bottle since the guy obviously didn't mind drinking after him. "On the outside, not so much on the inside." Handsome, that is. His face was the ultimate lie, a farce.

"Eh, you know, the typical story of dysfunction, I suppose." He shrugged his shoulders and took another drink. "Father was half fire demon. Mother had a serious cause of.. fuck. I forgot the term for it. Basically dad beat the shit out of her and me and my little sister and she thought she could change him no matter how many times it happened." He frowned a little. "I hated him. I was so glad when he died. And yet.." He scoffed and shook his head. "I turned out just like him." With that, he took a huge swig of Scotch, enough to nearly make him choke and certainly sway a little on the barstool.

"I killed somebody." He announced, loud enough that it made a few people in the bar stop what they were doing and look in his direction. "The girl I loved got tired of me beating the shit out of her and left so.. I tried to drink and fuck the pain away and... poof!" He waved his hand. "The whole place went up in flames and... someone died." He was silent for a moment before he laughed and turned on his stool to face Fisher.

"So then, get this, I come here because I obviously have control issues and I kept setting things on fire by accident and who's here? Huh? She is! The girl that left me. And not just her, but the guy she left me with is here too. And he's in love with her and she told me that she would keep an open mind but she's off, probably right now, fuckin' someone else!" He paused to take a breath. "Because I was trying, I was really trying, and my fucking mother had to go off and fucking die and I wasn't here to stop her from fallin' in love with someone else."

He pushed himself up to his feet after all of that, swaying a little before he grabbed his jacket and of course the bottle of scotch which was mostly empty by now but still had a few good shots left. He had to get out, had to get some air. It was getting too hot inside. So he started for the door without saying a word.

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[info]hearitbleed
2008-11-20 07:57 pm UTC (link)
When James announced that he had killed somebody, Fisher's first reaction was to laugh. He manage to stifle it quite well, but after last Friday he didn't know if he could handle being around another murderer. Of course James hadn't intended to kill the person (girl he assumed). It was all very confusing.

Once James got up and began stumbling outside, Fisher was right behind him. He swayed a little on his feet, the scotch having hit him just then, but he was steady enough to be there if they needed to smooth talk their way out of anything. He thanked the bartender before they left, mainly because he hadn't called the cops on James even though he could have.

The air outside was delightfully cool. The alcohol had painted rose colored circles on Fisher's cheeks, and he felt overheated. James didn't seem to have a direction in mind other than 'out of that fucking bar', so Fisher tried guiding him gently (and subtly) back toward Halcyon. "That sucks, man," he commiserated. "It's hard losing someone, then having it rubbed in your face how happy they are and how happy you're not." He took the bottle from James, drank a little, and let it hang by his side so every few steps a little bit would slosh out. "And I can't tell you anything a million other people haven't told you before. You can't make people love you, you can't control them, you have to love yourself before anyone else can, blah blah blah." He drank again, this time savoring the burn. It was awful strange to be on this end of the drunken stupidity. "Rehab did wonders," he confessed, "but the most important thing they said suprised the shit outta me. My counselor told me that nothing he said would ever convince me to stop hurting myself. One day, he said, I'd have an epiphony and it would just make sense. Some people get it before they need rehab. Some never get it. But it's the only thing that'll make you give a shit about changing." Fisher shrugged. "And it did. Four months and two suicide attempts later, but it did." He smiled at drunken James. "And it will for you, too. Hopefully before you're dead."

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[info]jamesownsit
2008-11-20 08:11 pm UTC (link)
It took James a few minutes to even realize that Fisher was following him, much less that he was leading him back towards the school. And when he did, he wasn't exactly okay with either of those things, so he changed their direction rather quickly, taking them towards the beach instead, and groaned a little as Fisher started to ramble on and on and on.

"I don't need to hear any of that self help psycho babble bullshit, alright? And.. why are you still here?" He asked, stopping in his tracks and turning to face him. "What was it you said? Something about a very strong opinion of me? King of the assholes? You don't give a shit so why the..." He shook his head and turned to keep walking.

"Just fuck off." He mumbled once his back was turned. "Only thing worse than nobody giving a shit is having some asshole pretending to give a shit." In all honesty, he didn't mind having him around, he just didn't want him around out of pity. He wasn't so bad off that he needed that just yet. Or not so bad off that he would accept it, that is.

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[info]hearitbleed
2008-11-20 08:22 pm UTC (link)
"Sorry," Fisher said, a little hurt. "I was just talking." He wanted to tell James that he was only trying to make sure the kid didn't stumble off into a ditch somewhere and die. He wanted to tell him that everyone needed someone to look after them, and that James should be grateful that Fisher was wasting his time on him. He wanted to say all that, but he couldn't. Because James was selfish and needy and didn't care about anyone but himself. And that alone raised a very good point as to why the hell Fisher was bothering. Because he wished someone had bothered to try and save him, and no one had. But you could only be pushed so far.

"Okay," Fisher said quietly, his voice small. "You're right. I don't like you. At all. I just thought... I wish someone had tried this hard for me when I was... there." He knew that James knew what he meant by "there"- the bottom of the barrell, the only place where there really was nowhere to go. When you felt like you just died inside.

"Here's your scotch," he said, tossing the bottle on the ground in front of him. It was pretty much empty now. "Thanks for the shots, James." He turned and started walking, which wasn't as successful as he'd liked, since the world was shifting out from underneath him. Goddamn James. Why had he tried so hard (and drank so much) for that guy? Now he had a queasy feeling in his gut and unsteady feet. And then, unexpectedly, he threw up.

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[info]jamesownsit
2008-11-20 08:34 pm UTC (link)
"Fucker.." James muttered under his breath when Fisher threw the rest of the bottle of scotch on the ground. The problem with being part demon was this, his metabolism was super accelerated. And if he wanted to stay drunk, which he did at this point in time, he needed to continue to drink, and now there was nothing left. But he could always get more. There was bound to be some place where he could get more.

He started to walk again when he heard that awful sound from not too far off behind him. He recognized the sound. He had never really been on that end of things, but he had been around it enough times. And he could have kept walking. He was selfish and didn't care about anything but himself, after all, but he didn't.

Against his better judgment, or maybe due to his better judgment, he turned around with a groan and walked of to where Fisher stood retching, reaching a hand down to pull the guy's hair back out of his face while his other arm slipped around the man's slender waist to keep him from falling face first in it. "Humans.." He muttered. They could never hold their liquor.

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[info]hearitbleed
2008-11-20 08:47 pm UTC (link)
"Assholes," Fisher shot back weakly, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. "Thank you," he said, turning his face away so James didn't have to smell his breath. "I shouldn't have started with the hard stuff. It's been too long." He got unsteadily to his feet, actually grateful that James had been there. At the moment he was lightheaded, so there was a distinct possibility he would've pitched face first into his own puke and drowned. What a way to be found the next morning.

"You're lucky," he said, after having spat onto the ground to clear the taste out of his mouth. "I'm guessing fire demons aren't as suseptible to alcohol?" That much was obvious, since now James barely had a swagger to his walk when before he'd been all over the place. Fisher took a few steps away from James to get a feel for his legs. "God, I'm so retarded," he said aloud, though he was only talking to himself. "Why did I drink so much? Oh yeah, because of Sasha. That girl has destroyed me forever." He looked at James, realised he'd been talking aloud, then giggled. "You can go," he assured him. "I'll make it back alive." But no, it was a 99% chance that Fisher would not make it back okay in his current state.

But suddenly he stopped, and turned back to the fire demon. "I'm sorry, James," he said sincerely. "All you wasnted to do was kill your brain and make it easier to deal with whatever you're dealing with, and I've done nothing but try and stop you." He gestured toward himself, his movements exaggerated and, well, drunk. "Who the hell am I to stop you? Fuck, I've drank enough to forget months at a time. Fucking hypocrite, that's what I am. You'll sort your shit out eventually." He waved James over. "C'mon, I owe you some booze." He started walking (well staggering) toward town again. "And I need a pack of gum."

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[info]jamesownsit
2008-11-20 09:08 pm UTC (link)
"I shouldn't have gave it to you." Of course it wasn't like he knew the kid had a problem with alcohol until after he gave it to him. He was drinking when he got there, after all. But that was beside the point. He probably should have cut them both off when he mentioned it. He hadn't been thinking all that clearly at that point but now that he was sobering up, that would have been the selfless thing to do. But since when was he ever selfless?

"Unfortunately not." He let Fisher go, but kept near enough to him that he could grab him if he started to fall again. He wasn't looking so hot right now. And here he had planned on being the one that was so drunk that he needed taking care of, not the other way around. Maybe this was better. He doubted Fisher could handle him if he really let himself get out there. He didn't know a Sasha though the mention made him curious, it just didn't seem like the right time to ask.

"I wish I could drink enough to forget, they just don't manufacture that much." He laughed, but then he shook his head and walked up to grab Fisher by the arm though not forcefully. "I've got some gum in my coat pocket you can have. As for the booze, I'm good. I'd rather not be responsible for your relapse." He already felt partially to blame that he was in the state he was in right now.

He shifted his jacket so he could grab the gum from the pocket, cinnamon, and not some fancy brand either, just regular Big Red. Of course now that he had his jacket up where he could reach them, he pulled out his cigarettes which weren't cheap or common at all. "You smoke?" He asked as he placed one between his lips and flicked his lighter to light up the end. He inhaled a deep drag and exhaled slowly, a smirk gracing his lips. "One of these days, I'll be one of those cool fire demons that can light the end of their cigarette without accidentally setting something else on fire."

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[info]hearitbleed
2008-11-20 09:20 pm UTC (link)
Fisher laughed at James, really laughed at him. "You wouldn't be responsible for my relapse," he assured him. "If anything, Sasha would be. She reminded me about all the reasons why I started doing drugs and drinking in the first place." He shuddered. That was a nightmare best left unmentioned. "Besides, I'm a grown-up. No one should have to take care of me like that by now. If I'm dumb enough to relapse, it's really my own stupidity." But James was sweet (sweet, Fisher? You really wanna go there?) for being concerned.

"You ever think of shooting up?" Fisher asked James seriously and he stuck some gum in his mouth. The cinnamon burned, but in a nicer way than the scotch had. "Not that I'm promoting it in any way, but I guess I'm just... surprised. If you haven't, I mean." He chewed thoughtfully, glad for a nicer taste in his mouth. He started walking the way James had come, toward the beach. Why the fuck not?

"I thought maybe heroin would make the ghosts go away," he said conversationally, though his vision was still a little blurred and he made a few missteps as he walked. Okay, more than a few. Thank God James was there. "It kinda did. I just couldn't tell who was alive and who was dead anymore." He looked over at James. "Tell me, why the sudden change of heart?" He quirked an eyebrow. "Is it because of Tolerate Humans Week?"

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[info]jamesownsit
2008-11-20 09:34 pm UTC (link)
The question made James arch a brow slightly and then he smirked a little as he answered. "No. But only because I'm too vain to do it." He shrugged his shoulders a bit. "Track marks. Not appealing." He laughed then. If it weren't for that, yeah, he probably would shoot up. "I've snorted my fair share of coke, but even that's too risky. Wouldn't want to fuck up my nose." It was only funny because he was serious. He really was that vain.

They changed direction again, back towards the beach which was nice. The beach always had a sort of calming effect on James. That was why he and Nell frequented it so often. He missed Nell, freakish little tart that she was. He had promised to look her up next time he was in New York though. It was kind of funny that Fisher slightly reminded him of Nell. They were both so... beneath his class but... Well fuck, he wasn't really sure and wasn't really trying to think too hard on it right now.

The few times that he stumbled or misstepped, James grabbed him and kept him from losing his footing and planting his face on the pavement. "Tolerate humans week?" He asked, a brow quirking. "I don't know about all that. And who says I've had a change of heart? I'm not the one that said I already had a rather strong opinion of you." He shrugged his shoulders slightly. "Besides, beggars can't be choosers and it's not like I've got people lined up to tolerate my ass right now." At least none that weren't there just because of what he could give them. He had no interest in people like that, contrary to what most might think.

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[info]hearitbleed
2008-11-20 09:46 pm UTC (link)
"Ugh, track marks," Fisher groaned. He pulled up the sleeve on his left arm, revealing an ugly, gnarled mess of tracks. "Six years," he said wistfully. "And that is why you will never see me in short sleeves, despite the awful heat."

As they neared the ocean, Fisher looked out over the water and felt a little less fuzzy. The ocean was beautiful, and this was his first time seeing it since he was a kid. When the hit the sand Fisher stumbled, falling onto James and laughing. "Sand is tough," he explained.

As James commiserated about beggars being choosers, Fisher smiled and leaned back a little, getting a nice view of James from behind. "Your ass is fine," he grinned. "I think it's tolerating your attitude that people can't handle." He looked at James head-on and cracked up. "I'm sorry I'm hitting on you," he said honestly. "I'm drunk."

When his chuckles subsided, he looked at James thoughtfully. "So... what is your opinion of me, if I may be so bold to ask?"

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[info]jamesownsit
2008-11-20 10:06 pm UTC (link)
"See? I could never do that." James shook his head. "I mean, when you have a personality like mine, your looks are really all you got so I can't ruin my one, single asset." It was a horrible admission, but he wasn't really afraid to make it. He would tell anyone that wanted to know that he was vain. Of course one didn't really have to ask to tell. The fact that he never left home in nothing less than the most expensive and well tailored clothes and he was always immaculately groomed spoke volumes as far as that was concerned.

Fortunately for Fisher, the booze had worn off enough that James had retained most of his reflexes and he managed to keep the kid on his feet as they found their footing in the sand. "No worries." He said, and then kept an extra close eye out as they traversed forward.

Speaking of assets, did the guy just look at his ass? He arched a brow slightly and then even more so when he admitted to it. "Uh.. I appreciate the compliment but really, in spite of what some people might think, I'm not gay." He was accused of it just because he knew how to dress. But he had never been attracted to another man and had no intentions of ever being attracted to another man. He liked women. Beautiful women. Though lately had had found himself at least attempting to branch out, but not that much.

"I don't think I really have one yet. Though you kind of remind me of someone." He gave a small shrug of his shoulders as he decided that this was about the right spot, crossing his legs as he planted himself onto the ground where they would have a good view of the ocean but be far enough back not to get wet. It was one thing to wash sand off his jeans but quite another to deal with wet sand. "We used to come out here all the time, drink a little. Talk." He furrowed his brow slightly. "She was a weird girl."

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[info]hearitbleed
2008-11-20 10:20 pm UTC (link)
"I know you're not," he assured James. "I never even questioned it. I could see why someone might, but honestly? No." Fisher didn't think he had "gaydar", but sometimes it was obvious when someone was and when someone wasn't. James was totally not.

When James plopped down in the sand, Fisher plopped down beside him. It was more a safety precaution, as his head hadn't cleared yet. "I'm surprised," he admitted. "I didn't peg you for a beach person. Too dirty." Fisher layed back in the sand and looked up at the stars, or what he could see of them. There were still a few clouds overhead. "Might rain," he said idly."

"Weird might be good for you," he told his comrade. "I don't wanna say you're uptight, but you're certainly not loose. I mean," he continued, propping himself up on his elbows, "would you ever run into the ocean fully clothed? You would not. And maybe you need someone who'll drag you along." Fisher laid back and thought about his first love, his first run into water with all his clothes on. His very expensive clothes. It had been one of the best days of his life.

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[info]jamesownsit
2008-11-25 12:27 pm UTC (link)
"You must be the only one." James said and then laughed a little. "Must be one of those takes one to know one sort of things." He gave a small shrug of his shoulders. No, he wasn't gay. He had never found himself attracted to another man. Of course, that didn't mean that he would necessarily limit himself to the possibility. Though he wasn't entirely sure what that meant.

"It's a little dirty." James said with a small shrug of his shoulders. He glanced over at Fisher with a bit of a frown tugging at his lips and then looked up at the sky. "Yep." It did look daunting, though he wasn't really interested in talking about the weather.

"I am not uptight. But you're right, I wouldn't run into the ocean with all of my clothes on." He smirked a little as he added, "But I would run into the ocean with all of them off." He looked back at the waves crashing against the shore. "It could be a good night for a swim."

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[info]hearitbleed
2008-11-25 02:01 pm UTC (link)
Talking with James now, when he wasn't drunk and he wasn't acting like a prick, he was a fairly decent guy. He had a sense of humor (not much of one, but at least he had one). He had a nice smile, though sometimes if taken in the wrong way it looked creepy. James reminded Fisher of the boys he went to high school with that everyone longed to be, Fisher included. He'd watch the popular guys get all the girls and just coast through life on their charm. And then college would hit and you'd see beneath the veneer that they were just shallow and mean for no good reason.

"You're a little uptight," Fisher teased. "Anyone who wears clothes that neatly pressed just to go out drinking is a little uptight." He grinned, so James would know he was teasing him and not let him tamper flare up. And possibly blacken one of Fisher's eyes.

"Why not?' Fisher agreed, in regards to swimming. "It's hotter than hell out here. 'Sides, cool water might sober me up some." Pulling himself upright, Fisher tugged off his sweatshirt and tossed it over his head. Even in the low light, James would be able to see the gnarled track marks that were stamped all over Fisher's arm, particularly the left. Most days Fisher never let anyone see his bare arms, but he was drunk, so wooo!

It took a few tries to get his jeans off, since they were tight fitting and dexterity is something you need to maneuver buttons and zippers well, and also the first thing you lose while drinking. But off they came, and clad in a brand spakin' new pair of maroon boxer briefs, Fisher headed out to see at a pace close enough to a run.

"Fuck!" he yelled when he was up to his knees in the water. He turned back to James and cupped his hands around his mouth like a megaphone. "It is not warm!!"

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[info]jamesownsit
2008-11-25 02:33 pm UTC (link)
This was not a side of himself that he showed often. It was not a part of him that very many people knew. And it was one that he liked to keep under wraps. He didn't want people to know that he had vulnerabilities. That just wasn't good. It wasn't good for people to think of him as weak.

As for the rest of it, that's who he had always been. He was popular and handsome and everyone either wanted him or envied him and that hadn't changed when he had gone to college. It was only here, at Halcyon, where he found things to be different. It was strange enough dealing with that without all the other shit compounded on top of it, but he was maintaining, or so he would like to think.

He wasn't going to punch him. He was perfectly capable of taking a joke from time to time just as long as Fisher didn't make a habit out of it.

"Help yourself." He wasn't sure that he was feeling so brave tonight. The air might have been warm, but the water looked cold. And his suspicions about that were confirmed once Fisher yelled at him from in the water. "Well what did you expect?" He yelled back at him, then he laughed. "You're going to catch one hell of a cold, man!"

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[info]hearitbleed
2008-11-25 02:43 pm UTC (link)
Fisher took a few tentative steps deeper into the ocean, cringing at the notion that any second now, his junk would be submerged in the chilly Atlantic/Pacific/wherever the hell they were now. "I will not" he shouted back to James. "It's August, you can't catch a cold in August! Besides, I have enough alcohol in me to kill the AIDS virus if it comes 'round." Ugh, that was not even a funny notion. Between the homosexuality (gay men are #1 victims!), the needles and the crappy lifestyle, AIDS had almost been a real possibility a few times. And his immune system was shot, so maybe James had a good point about the cold...

But no. He was going to swim in this ocean, damnit! He was already wet and starting to get used to the water by now. "You sure you don't wanna come?" he called back. "I mean, if I start drowning, how will you heroically save me?"

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[info]jamesownsit
2008-11-25 06:40 pm UTC (link)
Yeah, that really wasn't funny, but then again, James did not have a typical sense of humor so the darkness of it appealed to him a little and at the very least it brought a smirk to his lips. One could either laugh or cry about their former lives before coming here and he was never one to cry about anything. Then again, he was never one to really laugh about anything either.

"I won't!" James yelled back at him, a smirk gracing his handsome features as he sat there for a moment longer debating it. He wasn't all that fond of water, wasn't a terribly good swimmer either, but there was something to be said for a dip in the icy cold Atlantic every now and then. Or was it the Pacific? Maybe even the Indian. No matter.

He pushed himself up to his feet after a moment longer and started to strip. Shoes first, jacket second, and then everything else. And by everything, I mean everything. He wasn't about to walk back to school with wet boxers.

Breaking into a sprint, he submerged himself completely in the water, going all the way right from the start to avoid the initial shock and adjustment period. When he came up, head thrown back and water slicking back his hair, he let out a rather loud yell. "Holy fucking shit, that's cold." Cold enough that if Fisher happened to be paying attention or could see from his vantage point, James had shriveled up and was nearly sporting an innie.

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[info]hearitbleed
2008-11-25 10:43 pm UTC (link)
From the moment James stripped himself of all his world possessions Fisher had been noticing him. Well, noticing in that subtle, hope-I-don't-get-caught kind of way. Hey, it was James' fault for being so handsome in the first place!

"Aw, you did come to rescue me," Fisher crooned. He crossed his hands over his chest and battered his eyelashes. "My hero." James was all dripping and soaked and looking a mite chilly. Fisher grabbed a few fingerfuls of water and rubbed them against his arms. He wasn't usually one to just jump in to anything, let alone sixty degree water. "I told you it was cold," he reminded James. He couldn't help but smile. Here was this guy who, if you'd asked Fisher this morning, was completely nuts. He was hot-tempered and rough and angry, and not the kind of person Fisher ever wanted to be around. Yet here they were now, swimming in the ocean pretty much naked. Well, James was completely naked.

"I'm a little surprised you swim," he said to James, wading his way closer so they wouldn't have to shout at one another. James had gone deeper than Fisher had, but he was braving it anyway. Poor frozen testicles. "I mean, you deal with fire. I figured you wouldn't like water. Polar opposite, you know?" He rubbed a little more water onto his arms, starting to get used to the chill and actually starting to enjoy it. "Thanks for coming out here," he said sincerely. "I'm having a surprisingly good time with you." He added with a wink, "So far."

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