Idiots Ch. 03

Absentmindedly, I got up to sit on the couch. The TV seemed interesting. Then again, everything was getting a bit blurry at this point. Adrian came over to plop down in my lap. Robbie sat in a recliner to our right.

"I'm really drunk..." I mumbled.

Adrian looked down at me, staring with his face expressionless. Without warning, he broke out into peals of laughter.

"Looks like you're not the only one." Said Robbie. His voice sounded distant, though he was clearly sitting in the same chair. God I was smashed.

"Soooo..." Adrian slurred. "Cal says you two are hot together."

Robbie busted out laughing. I stuck my face into Adrian's shoulder while laughing. I was trying my damndest not to pass out from oxygen deprivation. My arms stayed wrapped around Adrian.

"Sounds like he finds this quite amusing. You gonna live Chico?"

I peered around Adrian to find Robbie smiling at me. Laughter overtook me once more. Adrian's hands curled into my hair as he slowly starting scratching his fingers over my scalp. I was like a kitten getting its neck scratched.

"He'll be fine. He just needs to sleep it off."

"I ain't sleeping shit!"

"Quiet idiot." Said Adrian.

I slid him over to a couch cushion so I could walk to the kitchen.

"Where's he going?" I heard Adrian ask.

"Vodka is in the kitchen."

I shuffled back over to the couch, bottle of vodka in one hand, our pre-blended mixer in the other.

"Something you're about to learn about Alex here. He doesn't stop drinking until he's completely gone. At least that's the way he is with liquor. I've never seen him drink more than two beers at a time."

"He doesn't like them."

They continued to talk about me like I wasn't there. I kept drinking while watching their faces move. Is it wrong to say I like being drunk? It's why I don't drink that much. The feeling could easily be addicting to me.

"You two talked about that?"

"About what?" I asked.

Both their heads looked at me again. They seemed almost sober.

"Don't worry about it babe."

"Yeah, keep playing with the nice table."

"Hey fuck you. It's cool." He had a weird coffee table. One of those ones from the 70's with the cooler inside. I was opening and closing the lid, enjoying the cold air on my hands.

"He is truly a man-child." Adrian said.

Everything beyond that is a blur.

"Babe?"

Dear god in heaven, make it stop. His voice wasn't like nails on a chalkboard. It was like someone had crashed a wrecking ball through the wall opposite the chalkboard.

"Babe, it's time to wake up."

"I'll kill you if you keep talking."

"Tell his bitch ass to come on!" Robbie shouted from somewhere else in the house.

"Robbie has to go to work and although I'm sure he trusts us, it's probably best if we went home."

I had a brief, BRIEF, moment where an internal smile went across my brain that he'd called my place home. Robbie popping in the door quickly blew that moment away.

"LET'S GO!"

I started to say fuck off. Before I could, two-hundred and fifteen pounds of well-muscled Mexican jackass crashed down on my back and ruffled my hair. Every hair on my head may as well have been acupuncture needles, twisting and grinding with his hand.

A short, pitiful scuffle ensued. Robbie's stronger than me to begin with. Add in my mummified state, and I may as well have just laid there and took it. He rolled me over into a sitting position where the first sight I clearly had was of Adrian giggling like a little kid in the corner.

"I hate all of you."

They laughed. Fuckers.

"Get up, brush your teeth, and take your boyfriend home. We've been waiting all morning for you to get up."

"What time is it?"

"11:00. I've got to be at the station by twelve."

"Roger that. I still hate you. At least Adrian was nice about it."

"And I still got threatened with death." He said.

"You were always safe. I need someone to fix me breakfast... well, lunch if we're honest."

"Today, that distinguished job will go to whoever's cooking at the drive through."

"Doesn't matter. I won't taste it anyway."

I shuffled into the bathroom. My toothbrush was still here from the last time I'd been too drunk to find the door. That'd probably been over three months ago. Robbie doesn't come into this side of the house much. I think it may have been his grandmother's old bedroom. To my knowledge, Robbie's current room was the same one he had as a kid.

Their voices came muffled through the door. Adrian said something about how I could sleep through a hurricane provided the room didn't collapse on me. Robbie said I'd just use the debris as a pillow. Assholes, all of them.

"We had breakfast together, while someone slept, so I'm going to skip the apologies for not feeding you." Said Robbie as we all walked to the front door.

"It's fine. I've got my eyes on some cheap coffee with a greasy sausage dog anyway."

"We're not going to Bill's Grease Hut." Adrian said simply. Like BAM! No room for argument. Just simply, you're not going.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you're not eating a heart attack on a bun after seeing how many times you could tell your liver to go fuck itself last night."

"But, I like Bill's." I felt like a child.

"And I like you. Get in the car." He held the back door to Robbie's truck open for me.

"What are we eating then?" I said as the door shut.

He didn't answer for another five seconds or so after he got in the front seat with Robbie cranking up the engine and turning the radio down from its previously concert level volume.

"Shit, Robbie. I see someone needing hearing aids by the time he's fifty." Said Adrian.

"Food..." I sulked.

"Later. If we hadn't left when we did, you fuckers would be taking the bus." Said Robbie. We headed down the highway back into the city. The precinct wasn't but a few blocks over from my apartment. It was the primary reason I lived where I did. That, and there was a kick ass coffee shop on my block who gave the boys in blue a nice discount. If there is one thing this cop loves more than coffee, it's cheap coffee.

"Drop us at the Del Café at least. It's on the same street."

"I know where it is. So does every cop at the station. If someone ever robs that place, they're going to piss off everyone in the 29th Precinct."

"Not to mention half the hospital staff." Added Adrian.

Del Café was on the way to work for many of the hospital staff who lived in the suburbs south of town, or in the lower rent areas of the city to the south as well. With the 29th Precinct being right around the block, they were going to be in business for a long time to come. The Cuban couple who ran it were extremely nice. They loved us too. An officer had stopped their dog from running into traffic one day ten years ago and we've all been heroes ever since. Now, a different dog wanders around the shop; a son of the original who brought the city's cops into the Dominguez's good graces. Most customers eye the big Rottweiler skeptically at first. After five minutes of Rommel begging for food, most people learn that he's a big sissy.

"Cuban coffee seems as good a way as any to blast a hangover."

"A fruit salad will balance out your food karma." Said Adrian.

"A fruit salad? Who eats a fruit salad for breakfast?"

"As you said, it's lunch time."

"Which means I'm getting a sandwich and a churro."

"The hell you are. Sandwich. No churro. That's final."

A litany of Spanish rolled off Robbie's tongue before he said, in English, "You two argue like a married couple. If this is love, then I'm glad to wait."

Neither Adrian nor myself said anything else. I don't know about Adrian, but my heart was in my throat. Thanks for nothing Ramirez, you Mexican prick. I swear, the thought hadn't crossed my mind before. Yes I like Adrian. A lot. But love is a big word to throw around after, what a month? It takes longer to get over a bad cold. Adrian stared straight out the windshield, his face didn't give anything away when I looked at him through the side mirror. The atmosphere was thicker than Cuban coffee when Robbie pulled up to the curb outside Del Café.

Mutely, we both stood in the line. He hadn't looked at me when I held the door open to the place, and it seemed he was intent to keep it up as he stood beside me now. Fucking Robbie had to go and throw that stupid word out there.

There was only one person ahead of us at the counter. I eyed the churros in their display. Here we go baby, just spit it out quick and we're home free.

"Hola Officer Macintyre, what can we do for you today? Is this a friend of yours?"

Mrs. Dominguez's daughter was on the register today. She knew me almost as well as her parents. If she was here, I'm sure her brother was scrubbing toilets somewhere in back.

"This is my boyfriend Adrian. Adrian, this is Amelia."

"Nice to meet you, Amelia." Were the first words he'd said in the past fifteen minutes.

"Oh, you two are so cute together. What can I get you?"

"I'll take a turkey sandwich with mayo, all the different types of cheddar you can find, and whatever peppers you deem appropriate, and-"

"Two Cuban coffees with a fruit salad." Adrian chimed.

I stared down at him, in shock I say, as he handed over his credit card.

"I got it babe." He smiled up at me sweetly. The devil behind a mask if I ever saw it.

"Sure thing guys. I'll bring it out to you when it's ready."

"Thank you Amelia." Smiled Adrian.

"What he said." I waved as I followed Adrian to a corner booth by the window.

He smiled the entire time, like a Cheshire fucking cat.

"I hate you, you sneaky man you."

"I told you there would be no churros today."

Amelia brought over our coffees and my sandwich, plus Adrian's salad. The thing I love about this place is the portions. The sandwich was huge, with fresh cut meat and homemade bread they get from the farmer's market. Adrian reached over and cut the thing in half while a watched. I didn't know if I loved his presumption that I'd share my lunch with him or if I should smack his hand while pointing to his little fruit salad.

"You have fruit."

"That you're eating half of."

"But I have my sandwich."

"Half of a sandwich."

"Which is still a complete sandwich if taken anywhere else."

"Not here."

"You're infuriating."

"You're in love."

I stared across the table, my eyes locked on his while he took a bite out of his half of my sandwich, or at least what was supposed to be mine.

"Says who?" I swallowed deeply even as I asked.

"Says me."

"And what about you? Surely my charm has had some effect on you. It's been nearly two months after all. Most people either love me or hate me by now."

"I don't hate you... much." His eyes sparkled in the noon day sun coming through the window. Shadows covered the lower half of his face from the neon 'Open' sign that hung on the glass.

"Am I going to be the first to say it?"

"Why should either of us say it?"

"We both know it."

"Exactly. Just let it be."

I sat staring at him some more. The fucker was laughing at me in his head. It was plain as day. He kept chewing away.

"Fuck you."

"Maybe later. Eat."

No man in the history of the world has ever managed to eat diced pineapple, apple slices, and grapes as angrily as I did that day. I was one bite into my sandwich when I had enough.

"Fuck it." I reached across the table to grab his hand, holding it firmly with my own. "I love you, okay? It's not been long, but I think about you all the time for no reason at all. When I buy a shirt I ask myself if you'll like it. When I get off work, I come looking for you. When you're busy, I'm sad. It's god damn frustrating!"

"Same, on all accounts." His smile had gotten bigger, his fingers sliding gently over my palm.

"You're going to say the words if I have to come across this table and beat them out of you with this coffee cup." I held up the proof of my threat in my left hand.

"I love you Alex." He said on a long sigh. "Though sometimes I question my judgment." He smirked.

"You sir, are an asshole. How dare you ruin this moment." I laughed.

"Here I thought you loved my asshole."

"That... may be the creepiest thing I've ever heard anyone say."

"Tough. Stay here." He stood up, squeezing my hand as he let it go. "I'm hitting the head."

He walked past me towards the counter and the restrooms. I watched traffic go by, pondering our new found understanding. It's like someone placed a bomb in the middle of a room. As long as no one mentions it, there's no danger to be had, or at least acknowledged. But some bastard always comes along and says, 'Is that a bomb?' and suddenly we have to deal with it. At least this one seemed to be incapable of blowing us up this time.

A plate plopped down in front of me. Adrian resumed his seat across from me, arms crossed with a broad grin smirking at me.

"He does love me." I said.

A single churro sat before me.

"I claim half of that."

"Deal."