Sunnydale AU: don't go into the - never mind.

[americas_son]

Some students, when they hear the final bell ring, head to class right away.

Sometimes Cal is one of them, but not today. He was outside having a cigarette when the bell sounded, and he was too deep in thought to pay it much attention.

So he's slipping inside now, a few minutes late. The halls are already quiet, and he's keeping an eye out for any faculty members authorized to give detention as he makes his way toward his English class.

Comments

[toblameforit]

Tony is a little relieved, too, although the lingering smell of cologne means something different to him. A succession of birthdays—presents like the computer whose component parts have slowly, over the years, been phased out of Jarvis's brain—more hugs than his parents ever gave him.

That last is what comes to mind most strongly, and what he is trying hardest not to think about.

Opening his bedroom door right at the top of the stairs, he finally succeeds.

[americas-son.livejournal.com]

Cal follows him in.

[toblameforit]

"Okay," he says, crossing to the liquor cabinet, "I lied. It's not just Scotch."

[americas-son.livejournal.com]

Cal laughs a little.

"Yeah, I had a feeling," he says.

[toblameforit]

He opens the cabinet's double doors to reveal a stunning array of alcoholic beverages. "Pick your poison," he says, grabbing a glass. "Scotch for me."

[americas-son.livejournal.com]

"Thanks."

He can't help but think of the supply of tiny bottles in New York, and his brilliant idea to make the hangover extra bad by mixing his liquors as much as he could as a sort of masochistic distraction technique.

It had been pretty effective. And he never wants to do it again. So he'll just stick with whiskey, thanks.

He pours his drink, takes a sip, and sighs. It's not a joint, but it'll do.

[toblameforit]

There's nowhere to sit but the bed, so Tony does. It's a big bed, and—wonder of wonders—neatly made, which minimizes any potential for awkward.

[americas-son.livejournal.com]

Cal takes a seat at the end, on a corner, leaning against the bedpost with one leg tucked up. It's not exactly as far from Tony as he can get, but it's not too close, either. It also isn't entirely on purpose - there are other things to think about. (But it isn't entirely an accident, either.)

[toblameforit]

For being who he is, Tony is giving very little thought to the implications here. Cal is probably better off not knowing that he's the first person who's had a drink with Tony in his room and not slept with him, but Tony meant it when he said he doesn't go for straight guys.

[americas-son.livejournal.com]

Under the circumstances, who could blame him for not thinking through every nuance?

"Good stuff," Cal murmurs, inanely polite. It could be the cheapest of the cheap and he wouldn't really know the difference, but he thinks it might be best to keep the silence from settling for too long.

[toblameforit]

"Oh, it totally is."

Obie always used to tease him for that. He smiles sadly.

[americas-son.livejournal.com]

Cal glances up from his glass.

"No point in getting the shitty stuff if you don't have to."

That much, at least, he knows to be true. He doesn't know the difference between one bottle of whiskey or another in the cabinet back home, but he knows they're all high quality.

[toblameforit]

"Seriously," Tony agrees. "Works for everything. Booze, cars..."

[americas-son.livejournal.com]

"Pot," Cal adds. He does know for a clear, solid fact that price and quality make all the difference there.

And wouldn't he like to be getting high right about now? He takes a swallow from his glass instead.

[toblameforit]

"Yeah, that figures."

[americas-son.livejournal.com]

Cal gives a slight, wry laugh.

"Never go for the skunk weed," he advises. "Always hold out for something decent."

Pause.

"Unless you're really desperate."

[toblameforit]

"I'm happy to say I've never been desperate for weed." He nods at the liquor cabinet on the wall they're both facing. "And I've never been desperate for booze, either."

[americas-son.livejournal.com]

"It helps if you never run out," Cal agrees.

He pauses for a moment. Sips his drink, then says over the rim of his glass,

"But I would've smoked anything I could stick in my pipe after - Dad came home."

[toblameforit]

He takes a long, slow breath.

Softly: "Yeah."

[americas-son.livejournal.com]

"That was like, all I did for days," he says. "Just . . . trying to pretend that everything was fine."

Which was impossible to do sober.

And, in the end, hadn't worked out very well while he was stoned, either. He still blames Sherlock, though without the anger he'd felt at the time.

[toblameforit]

His lips twist into something that's not quite a smile.

"Like that ever works," he says, with all the wry certainty of a guy who's lived with Sherry Holmes for years.

[americas-son.livejournal.com]

"It would have a few months ago." Back when it was easier to shut himself down and retreat from reality.

"Well, I mean. Right up until he turned me, anyway," he adds, elaborately casual. (It doesn't quite work as a joke now; it will later, when more time has passed and the experience isn't so raw.)

He never said anything about it ending well.

[toblameforit]

Tony takes a few seconds to disentangle that, and then snorts. "Nice sense of humour on you," he observes.

[americas-son.livejournal.com]

Cal shrugs.

"Sometimes it's either that or throw up," he says, thinking of cool fingers touching his pulse.

[toblameforit]

"Don't I know it," he agrees, thinking of driving lessons.