Birthday

Blink: Remember in the Morning

Hoooooboy. Hooooooooooooboy. I think I'm gonna fall down now. And I'm right. Mush grabs my arm to keep me from actually toppling, but I was standing on a table and it was kind of a long way down from there and I somehow end up mostly in his arms. And I'm pretty sure I'm laughing like a compete loony now, but hey, Mush hasn't let go of me yet, so that's probably okay.

He manages to edge me out of the crowd, to the side of the room, and sneaks out from my arm and lets me collapse into a chair. Which is kind of a shame, but that's the kind of thing I'm glad I don't say aloud. At least, I think I didn't. It's hard to say. I feel kinda floaty and kinda swimmy, like I was swimming through the air or something, and I'm really not sure what's going on. I'm, uh, pretty sure I've been singing, though, my throat is kinda dry.

Which means I probly oughtta have something to drink.

"Mush," I groan. "Izzere–Iz–thuuuursty."

"Blink, for the love a'…" he mutters. "Wait here." And he walks off and I'm giggling again, because his hips look kinda like they're wiggling or maybe that's my imagination, but I like watching him walk off. I just hope he comes back soon.

I do stay where I am, sitting backwards in a chair because that's how I landed, but it's less because Mush said to and more because I don't think I could get up without falling down and even though I don't feel anything right now, it ain't like this hasn't happened before and I know that if I trip it'll hurt something awful later, and Mush yells at me when I do that.

But I guess it is a little because Mush told me to because really, I'd do whatever he tells me to, which is kinda sad, but not so sad, because I love him. Which is another of those things I'm glad I didn't say out loud, as far as I know. I rest my forehead against the back of the chair and kinda doze off or something, because the next thing I know, Mush is shaking me really hard.

"Whaaaaa?" I demand. He rolls his eyes and flops down in a chair next to mine, then shoves a cup of water into my hand. "No, wanted–"

"Oh, shut up, you drunk idiot."

Oops. He sounds mad. I hate it when Mush is mad at me, because I love him. And I think I should tell him so. Yep. I should definitely… I should definitely finish my water and thank him for it and keep my mouth shut about other things, yep. Though I kind of hate that my better senses kick in no matter how stinking drunk I am. Half the time I think I do this just so I will say something stupid, 'cause I don't know how to say it otherwise. And 'cause maybe if I'm this drunk and I say it, Mush would forgive me because he'd probably be pretty mad at me otherwise. 'Cause, you know, boys aren't supposed to like other boys.

But how could anyone not like Mush?

I take a long drink and lean back and forget that the back of the chair is in front of me and almost fall backwards, before Mush grabs my shirt and hauls me upright. "Anx," I manage to say, though I was trying to say thank you. He rolls his eyes and I wonder if that means he understood me or not.

I lean against the seat's back again, because it's the easiest way to not fall down, but I hear some sorta ruckus behind me and look over my shoulder. Mush springs to his feet and dashes over to the crowd near the middle of the room, but I don't think he can see quite what's going on, and after a minute he comes back and looks even more annoyed.

"Wha?" I ask.

"Dutchy passed out." He nudges my shoulder. "Like you keep almost doing."

"I don'…"

"You do. You always do. You get drunk, you act like an idiot, you babble like a moron, and–ught. You always fucking do that to me and I can't stand it."

"Wha?"

"Never mind."

"But…" I wish I didn't have to try and think while I was this drunk, because I get all muddled, but he said something about babbling and I tend to do that anyway, but when I'm drunk I don't really remember what I say. And I hope I didn't say something really stupid, because Mush… Because I love Mush. I do. Which I should tell him, because maybe if I tell him, he'll stop being mad at me. "But Mush–"

"Just stop."

"But…"

"I said stop, god damn it!"

I figure I'd better stop because, you know, he's really pissed. And I hate it when he's pissed. "'M sorry."

"Yeah, whatever." He looks around and I follow his gaze; Specs is helping Dutchy out of the warehouse.

"Damn drunk idiot," Mush mutters.

"Him 'r me?" I say, or at least that's why I tried to say.

"Both of you. Both drunk idiots."

"You–" I try to say. "You do it too–you do."

"Not like you do. I don't drink every weekend. I don't do it until I pass out. I don't–I don't fucking talk about–about stupid–I don't babble and then forget what the hell I said after I pass out! Okay, so don't fucking tell me I drink because you–" He stops.

"Whaaat?" I ask again.

"Nothing. Nevermind."

"Telllll meeeee." I really wish I wasn't so drunk because this sound important.

"If you don't remember it doesn't even matter." He crosses his arms and leans back in the chair and glares at me. I hate it when he's mad at me, I hate it.

"Muuuush."

"I'm getting outta here. Make sure Jack or someone walks you home." He stands, and I reach out to grab his arm and keep him from leaving, but he gets out of my grip and I fall, and he lets me this time. I land hard on my elbow knee and damn, that's going to hurt when I sober up. I think I'm bleeding. I glance down and can see some blood and that probably means I am.

Mush is walking off.

"Mush, wait–" I yell and scramble to my feet and try and go after him, but he can move a lot faster than I can because I keep very nearly falling down and I think I musta knocked into a bunch of people but I don't really have time to care right now. I see Mush stomp outside and slam the door and I manage to follow.

Specs and Dutchy are sitting outside and they don't look happy to be interrupted and I kind of trip over Specs and fall down the last step and land on my elbows and knees again and they're still bleeding and Mush is out of sight and I swear I'm gonna cry or scream or something. "Where?" I ask desperately, looking behind me. Specs is rubbing his shoulder where I kicked him when I tripped and he looks really annoyed.

"What?" he snaps.

"Mush–I gotta–gotta find–"

Dutchy points down the road and I scramble to my feet. I'll thank him later if I remember, but I've got a habit of not remembering things when I'm drunk. Which Mush was yelling about so I guess I musta said something when I was drunk that I shoulda remembered.

And I think I know what it was because I'm drunk but not stupid.

"Mush!" I yell as I run as best as I can in the direction Specs pointed. I'm glad the sidewalk is pretty clear and even, because otherwise I'd keep falling down and I'd probably break my neck. Instead I just keep stumbling and yelling out his name.

I keep going and going and I bet he turned somewhere but I can't be sure, so I just keep going. It feels like I've been running forever, if this even counts as running, and I'm out of breath and dizzy and alone and I suddenly realize I have no clue where I am and I'm in Brooklyn in the middle of the night. And all of those things are bad enough on their own, but put them together and I'm pretty much screwed.

I slow and stop and sit down in the middle of the sidewalk because if I don't sit down, I'll fall down. "Mush," I groan aloud. I'm pretty much waiting to be mugged now. I can hear someone behind me and tense up but don't move incase whoever it is is just walking by.

"You damn drunk idiot."

I look up and behind me and he's there, looking kind of pissed off but kind of amused. "Mush?" I ask, in case I'm hearing things or something.

"Yeah, yeah," he sighs. "The turn to go home is a few blocks back that way." He points the way I came from. "I heard you–turned around and saw you run right past me. Idiot." He crouches down next to me, shakes his head. "You shoulda waited and had someone walk you home."

"No," I say insistently. "No, because I–you were mad. At me. And I hate it when you're mad at me."

"Don't worry about it." He looks me over. "You're bleeding."

"Still?" I ask.

He frowns and rubs his hand over my elbow and it comes away bloody. "Yeah. Not much now, though. What happened?"

"Tripped. Almost kicked Specs 'n the head."

He laughs. "Why didn't you just stay there?"

"'Cause you was mad."

"I wasn't. Not really."

"You sounded mad." I think the air is helping or something, because even though I'm still feeling all floaty, like I'm watching someone talk to Mush who isn't me, at least I can talk now, more or less. He sits down next to me, and that makes me pretty excited.

"I was just kinda… annoyed."

"At me?"

"Yeah."

"For drinking?"

"Yeah."

I frown a little. "I won't," I tell him. "If, if you don't–I don't like it when you're mad at me. So I won't do it anymore. I won't."

He gives me a look I don't understand. "That's what you said last week."

I did? "I did?" I ask aloud.

"Yeah."

Oh. "Oh."

Hmmm. I guess I kinda tend to say what I'm thinking when I'm drunk. "You shoulda reminded me," I tell him.

"You wouldn't a' listened," he points out, which is probably true. At least he doesn't sound so mad anymore, more just calm. "The only time you do something is when you really want to, an' telling you can't make you want to." He suddenly looks kinda sad, and I really really want to stop drinking, just so he won't look so sad anymore.

"I'm sorry," I say, and I mean it.

"Yeah?" he asks, and he sounds like he thinks I don't mean it.

"I am. For, for… saying things and forgetting them. 'Cause I don't wanna hurt you, Mush. I never wanna hurt you."

He smiles a little sadly and nods. "I know that, Kid."

"Did I…" I ask, and trail off. "Did I tell you anything, uh, else? And then forget?"

"Yeah." He looks up at the smoggy sky. "Don't worry about it. I'm used to it."

"You are?" That's news to me.

"You been doing this to me for a long time, Kid."

"Oh." I didn't realize that, either. "'M sorry," I say again.

"Don't be. Just… Nah, never mind."

"What?"

"Nothin'," he insists.

"No, what?" I ask again.

"You… You always say the same stuff, every time, and… You never remember. I just wonder if it's true, is all."

"If what's true?" I ask, my heart beating really fast.

He sighed and shrugged. "If it was true, you'd know. I don' wanna tell you an' get you thinkin' things that ain't true."

I pause, and nod a little, then look over at him. He looks all serious and kinda sad, and I'm sure of what he's talking about, and I break into a grin. "But it is true, Mush. I do love you."

And then he stares at me, and he sorta smiles too. "Let's see if you remember that in the mornin', Kid," he says. "C'mon, let's get home." He stands and offers me a hand up, which I'd definitely need, except I don't wanna get up. He doesn't believe me. I told him I love him and he doesn't believe me! That ain't right.

I take his hand, but instead of getting up I pull him back down. It only works 'cause he wasn't expecting it; Mush is stronger than me (he's got the muscle and it shows, you can see whenever he takes off his shirt, and sometimes I can't help but stare) and I'm drunk, but he stumbles forward a step and falls back into a sitting position. "Kid?" he asks.

I shake my head. "I'll 'member," I promise him.

"Yeah, right."

"No, I will."

He shrugs, like he just doesn't feel like arguing about it. So I guess I'm gonna have to show him I mean it, and do something I won't be able to forget. And it's a good thing I'm still pretty drunk, 'cause otherwise I wouldn't have the guts to do it… Even if I did already tell him every time I get drunk, like he said I do.

And now that I'm thinking of it… He doesn't seem to mind so much that I tell him, just that I forget. Maybe it's a good idea. But I'm bad at guessing what's a good idea and what's a bad idea when I'm drunk. But, what the hell?

So I do it. "I'll remember," I promise him, surprised at how clear my voice is, and then I lean over towards him and kiss him. I know my breath must be awful bad, but his ain't that much better, and anyway, he doesn't seem to mind. I mean, it was just a quick kiss, but he looks kinda stunned.

"You never done that before," he finally says.

"Nope," I agree. "But I'd kinda like to do it again."

So I do. And this time, he kisses me back.

I'm kissing Mush Meyers and he's kissing me back. You know, sometimes being drunk enough to be brave can be worth it all. Happy birthday, Spot, but I'm the one who's getting the real present.

And there's no way I'll forget this by morning, because sitting here on the sidewalk in Brooklyn, I ain't even worried about getting mugged no more. Because I think the only people in the world are me and Mush, and I hope it stays like this. I hope I never sober up and have to think about what it means, I hope it's never morning and this night, this minute, can last forever.

Because I love him, and he knows. I love knowing that he knows and he doesn't seem to mind. And I just… Love him. And we must look silly, sitting here on the sidewalk kissing, but I'm still way too drunk to care. Because this, it's just right, like it was meant to happen. It's me and it's Mush and I don't think I could forget it if I tried.

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