Night, chapter 1
Mike's POV
Billie had been anxious all night, which wouldn't be strange at all, except this was the big Green Day party. A pretty blonde girl even squeezed Billie's ass on her way to the open bar. Normally he would have had her in the coat closet in a second, but instead he jumped away, glared at her, and walked off to the opposite corner of the room.
To the corner where I was sitting with my beer. He stood directly in front of me, fist on hip. "How come you can get away with sitting on your ass in the corner..." "When every time I try to get away from these clowns, it's Billie , come over here, BJ, I want you to meet my best friend Bitch Motherfucker, Billie Joe!! I haven't seen you in ages, blah blah blah, blah, blah, bullshit'?"
Billie whacked me in the nose with the bottle of beer as he snatched it from my hand. "Hey."
"Sorry," Billie said. He gulped a couple of shots and gave it back to me. Billie took a step to the side, pressing his shoulder into my chest.
"Dude, calm down," I said.
"You're drunk," He answered in childish voice.
"No, I'm not," I replied calmy.
Billie curled his lip at me and grabbed my arm. "Yeah, you are. We're getting out of here."
I let him lead me into the bar. I hopped up onto the counter as he opened the small refrigerator that was in the corner, and he stuck his head inside. He emerged a couple seconds later with a tiny carton of what seemed to be food.
"What are you smiling about?" He asks glaring at me.
"You. I was picturing you with a bunny suit and a basket of colorful eggs," I say, and I giggle.
"You're drunk." Billie smile grows, he's trying not to laugh. He turned to face the refrigerator again and opens the door. Now he is holding a wine bottle. "We are going upstairs," he says. I nod as a reply.
We arrived a few minutes later at Billie's bedroom. "Come on," he said, entering quite slowly. He took a deep breath and sighed. Then he sat down on the floor and dug into the food box, he took out two small chocolate bars. "Here." He waved one at me.
I sat down across from him and took the candy bar from his fingers. "Thanks." We chewed in silence for a some minutes. He leaned on the bed's lower side. I wasn't feeling that hungry, so I just put it on my pocket.
"There's food down there. Why are we eating this?" I said slowly, pausing a bit.
"Because that place is full of annoying people. This is peace," Billie said while he waved his arms around, as if he was trying to show me the obvious.
I took another drink. "Why are you so tense?"
He reached for the wine, that was lying on the floor next to him.
"And why am I up here with you instead of that blonde groupie? The one who pinched your ass?"
His eyes narrowed, as in shame.
"Dude, you just need to get laid," I said, lifting the beer to my lips again.
Billie Joe threw back a mouthful of wine and then cast his eyes down at his lap. He repeated the action twice.
Minutes passed as I waited for Billie to answer me. So I reached under the bed for his old Gibson acoustic, took it out of its case, and busied myself with tuning it.
"Play 'Heroin'," He said raising his head to meet my eyes.
My head jerked up. With such a nice guitar in my lap, I had almost forgotten he was in the room. "Damn, I haven't heard that in a long time," I say.
Billie smiles. He leans back on the plush carpeting as I play, and he closes his eyes. I fuck up a chord. And the next chord. After a few more I'm hell sure I'm not playing "Heroin" at all. Billie opens one eye. "Sorry, man. It's been a long time." Lame excuse, but hey it's all I got.
"You're drunk," He says, he is not acusing me, so he takes the guitar out of my hands and lays it back in its case.
"What's the matter with you?" I ask finally.
Billie's eyes search mine. Then he looks away. "I want to be drunk, too." He reaches for his wine, again, and takes some more gulps.
I sigh and decide to change the subject. "You know, that chick must have had fake tits."
BJ snorts. "Fake tits? Fake smile, fake personality...shit. Lately everything is fake." He lifts the wine to his lips. "That's all there is anymore. Before it was fat chicks who wanted to feel special. We're supposed to get all the good girls now, right? Big shot rock stars that we are. Well, fuck 'em all." He slams the bottle to the floor.
"I'm workin' on it," I said joking, I was trying to release the tension.
He snorted again. And he asked "How do you do it? Nothing bothers you, Mikey. Don't you ever feel like...doesn't it drive you fucking crazy..." BJ rolled closer to me until his head bumped my knee. "How do you do it?"
I planted my bottle of beer in the middle of his chest. "Thats the answer," I said. His fingers closed around it. He looked up at me, and I covered his face with my little black hat. I heard his muffled laughter. Then he picked the hat up. "Your hat smells nice. It smells like your hair," He said playfully.
"You've been sniffing my hair?" Okay that's new man.
Billie rests his head on my thigh. "Of course I have, dude. It gets me high. Almost as good as coke." He answers among muffled laughs. His cheeks flush a deeper pink.
I grin down at him. "Now who's drunk?"
BJ reaches up and slides his fingers into my hair. "Mmm," He says it giggling. His hand moves to my neck, then brushes over my chest on its way back down to rest on his stomach. He shuts his eyes. His head suddenly feels heavy.
"Dude, you can't sleep on the floor."
"Yes, I can. I'm a big rock star. I can sleep wherever I want. Except with you, right?" Billie said and laughed again.
"Come on, get up."
"And if I get up, what'll you give me? Besides fucking blue balls."
"Billie."
"Mikey."
I pulled on his arm. He laughed again. "Just leave me alone, Mikey."
"Damn it, you're sleeping in the bed if I have to hold you down on top of the fucker. The fucking floor is bad for your back. I don't want to hear you complaining about it later." Billie didn't struggle this time, when I tried to pull him up. He swayed on his feet, a lot, though, so I slid my arm around his waist and pulled him closer to me.
"Hey Mikey, how drunk do I have to be to get away with this?" He grabbed the back of my head and pulled my face toward his. I felt his warm breath against my lips. Then he kissed me, wet and slow.
I kissed back.
He pulled away. His hands roved over my chest. "You need...you need fucking tits, man."
I shook my head and directed him toward the bed. "Go to sleep." He fell into the bed, and pulled the blanket around him.
"Good night, Billie," I said.
"Yeah."
I opened the door.
"Mikey?" He said, for first time he sounded insecure.
"Yeah? "
"Stay." He sounded more than insecure, he sounded frightened. I don't answer, I just walk over the bed. I sit on the edge.
"Fuck you," I say in soft tune, to him.
"Okay," He answers, a smile spreads across his face.
Billie had been anxious all night, which wouldn't be strange at all, except this was the big Green Day party. A pretty blonde girl even squeezed Billie's ass on her way to the open bar. Normally he would have had her in the coat closet in a second, but instead he jumped away, glared at her, and walked off to the opposite corner of the room.
To the corner where I was sitting with my beer. He stood directly in front of me, fist on hip. "How come you can get away with sitting on your ass in the corner..." "When every time I try to get away from these clowns, it's Billie , come over here, BJ, I want you to meet my best friend Bitch Motherfucker, Billie Joe!! I haven't seen you in ages, blah blah blah, blah, blah, bullshit'?"
Billie whacked me in the nose with the bottle of beer as he snatched it from my hand. "Hey."
"Sorry," Billie said. He gulped a couple of shots and gave it back to me. Billie took a step to the side, pressing his shoulder into my chest.
"Dude, calm down," I said.
"You're drunk," He answered in childish voice.
"No, I'm not," I replied calmy.
Billie curled his lip at me and grabbed my arm. "Yeah, you are. We're getting out of here."
I let him lead me into the bar. I hopped up onto the counter as he opened the small refrigerator that was in the corner, and he stuck his head inside. He emerged a couple seconds later with a tiny carton of what seemed to be food.
"What are you smiling about?" He asks glaring at me.
"You. I was picturing you with a bunny suit and a basket of colorful eggs," I say, and I giggle.
"You're drunk." Billie smile grows, he's trying not to laugh. He turned to face the refrigerator again and opens the door. Now he is holding a wine bottle. "We are going upstairs," he says. I nod as a reply.
We arrived a few minutes later at Billie's bedroom. "Come on," he said, entering quite slowly. He took a deep breath and sighed. Then he sat down on the floor and dug into the food box, he took out two small chocolate bars. "Here." He waved one at me.
I sat down across from him and took the candy bar from his fingers. "Thanks." We chewed in silence for a some minutes. He leaned on the bed's lower side. I wasn't feeling that hungry, so I just put it on my pocket.
"There's food down there. Why are we eating this?" I said slowly, pausing a bit.
"Because that place is full of annoying people. This is peace," Billie said while he waved his arms around, as if he was trying to show me the obvious.
I took another drink. "Why are you so tense?"
He reached for the wine, that was lying on the floor next to him.
"And why am I up here with you instead of that blonde groupie? The one who pinched your ass?"
His eyes narrowed, as in shame.
"Dude, you just need to get laid," I said, lifting the beer to my lips again.
Billie Joe threw back a mouthful of wine and then cast his eyes down at his lap. He repeated the action twice.
Minutes passed as I waited for Billie to answer me. So I reached under the bed for his old Gibson acoustic, took it out of its case, and busied myself with tuning it.
"Play 'Heroin'," He said raising his head to meet my eyes.
My head jerked up. With such a nice guitar in my lap, I had almost forgotten he was in the room. "Damn, I haven't heard that in a long time," I say.
Billie smiles. He leans back on the plush carpeting as I play, and he closes his eyes. I fuck up a chord. And the next chord. After a few more I'm hell sure I'm not playing "Heroin" at all. Billie opens one eye. "Sorry, man. It's been a long time." Lame excuse, but hey it's all I got.
"You're drunk," He says, he is not acusing me, so he takes the guitar out of my hands and lays it back in its case.
"What's the matter with you?" I ask finally.
Billie's eyes search mine. Then he looks away. "I want to be drunk, too." He reaches for his wine, again, and takes some more gulps.
I sigh and decide to change the subject. "You know, that chick must have had fake tits."
BJ snorts. "Fake tits? Fake smile, fake personality...shit. Lately everything is fake." He lifts the wine to his lips. "That's all there is anymore. Before it was fat chicks who wanted to feel special. We're supposed to get all the good girls now, right? Big shot rock stars that we are. Well, fuck 'em all." He slams the bottle to the floor.
"I'm workin' on it," I said joking, I was trying to release the tension.
He snorted again. And he asked "How do you do it? Nothing bothers you, Mikey. Don't you ever feel like...doesn't it drive you fucking crazy..." BJ rolled closer to me until his head bumped my knee. "How do you do it?"
I planted my bottle of beer in the middle of his chest. "Thats the answer," I said. His fingers closed around it. He looked up at me, and I covered his face with my little black hat. I heard his muffled laughter. Then he picked the hat up. "Your hat smells nice. It smells like your hair," He said playfully.
"You've been sniffing my hair?" Okay that's new man.
Billie rests his head on my thigh. "Of course I have, dude. It gets me high. Almost as good as coke." He answers among muffled laughs. His cheeks flush a deeper pink.
I grin down at him. "Now who's drunk?"
BJ reaches up and slides his fingers into my hair. "Mmm," He says it giggling. His hand moves to my neck, then brushes over my chest on its way back down to rest on his stomach. He shuts his eyes. His head suddenly feels heavy.
"Dude, you can't sleep on the floor."
"Yes, I can. I'm a big rock star. I can sleep wherever I want. Except with you, right?" Billie said and laughed again.
"Come on, get up."
"And if I get up, what'll you give me? Besides fucking blue balls."
"Billie."
"Mikey."
I pulled on his arm. He laughed again. "Just leave me alone, Mikey."
"Damn it, you're sleeping in the bed if I have to hold you down on top of the fucker. The fucking floor is bad for your back. I don't want to hear you complaining about it later." Billie didn't struggle this time, when I tried to pull him up. He swayed on his feet, a lot, though, so I slid my arm around his waist and pulled him closer to me.
"Hey Mikey, how drunk do I have to be to get away with this?" He grabbed the back of my head and pulled my face toward his. I felt his warm breath against my lips. Then he kissed me, wet and slow.
I kissed back.
He pulled away. His hands roved over my chest. "You need...you need fucking tits, man."
I shook my head and directed him toward the bed. "Go to sleep." He fell into the bed, and pulled the blanket around him.
"Good night, Billie," I said.
"Yeah."
I opened the door.
"Mikey?" He said, for first time he sounded insecure.
"Yeah? "
"Stay." He sounded more than insecure, he sounded frightened. I don't answer, I just walk over the bed. I sit on the edge.
"Fuck you," I say in soft tune, to him.
"Okay," He answers, a smile spreads across his face.
