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[doesitanyway]

@trevor.belmont | ■ ▲ ◌ ▼

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[doesitanyway]

I function remarkably well for an alcoholic. That's what I'm called in this time period, I've learned.

[requiemshark]

Oh.

[ Ephemera blinks at him. People don't usually call themselves alcoholics unless they mean it in the literal sense. ]

Should we not be drinking?

[doesitanyway]

...why wouldn't we?

[ It's becoming clear Trevor doesn't actually know the definition of alcoholic. He just thinks it's someone who drinks a lot. ]

[requiemshark]

Don't alcoholics want to stop, usually?

[doesitanyway]

I certainly don't. I mean, I did stop for awhile but I have nothing to fight for here, so back to old habits.

...you look very concerned now.

[requiemshark]

Huh.

[ Ephemera squints at Trevor. This is probably a conversation they should be having sober. ]

Think that word means something a little different in my time. It's like. AA meetings and shit.

[doesitanyway]

Oh? I thought it meant town drunk, as it's what the bartenders call me when they cut me off.

[requiemshark]

It means that too.

[ Ephemera drags a hand down the unscarred side of his face. ]

Like. Alcoholics can't function without drinking. Supposedly. I don't drink every day. Sometimes I just get blackout drunk 'cause I want to stop thinking.

[ He pauses. ]

Don't tell Drake.

[doesitanyway]

I can function without drinking, I just prefer things being... softened. Blurred around the edges so it isn't as sharp? Blackout drunk is less pleasant, honestly, but it happens.

[ He's about to promise, but then realizes he has no idea who that is. ]

Who's Drake?

[requiemshark]

Softened. Yeah.

[ Ephemera nods slowly. He understands, though he'd never allowed himself to want that. He had to be sharp, or he had to be on his way to unconscious. There had been no middle ground to take. He understands the impulse, though. ]

Drake. The one who knew the other me.

[ Ephemera waves vaguely at the other bedroom. ]

Also. My roommate now.

[doesitanyway]

Oh. Oh.

[ Trevor leans closer, peering at Ephemera like he's puzzling out a mystery. ]

You let him move in? After finding out...

[requiemshark]

Before. Before.

[ Ephemera leans back a little. ]

Wasn't gonna kick him out.

[doesitanyway]

...are you comfortable with that? It sounds like you had a fairly open conversation, I'm sure he'd understand if you wanted him out of your space after that.

[ He'd better understand, or Trevor will make him. ]

[requiemshark]

[ For lack of a better idea, Ephemera tips his head back and drinks. It burns the way he likes, a sensation that's easier to focus on than the answers he doesn't have. ]

It's not like we're fucking. And it's nice. Having someone to talk to.

[doesitanyway]

[ Trevor keeps peering, then his eyes go wider again and he lifts a finger accusingly. ]

You like him, don't you?

[requiemshark]

[ Ephemera huffs. He ought to laugh it off and isn't quite sure why he doesn't. ]

It's strange. Complicated. But. Yeah.

[doesitanyway]

[ Hmmmm. ]

Do you want to be fucking? Because that makes things very complicated.

[requiemshark]

[ Yeah. That.

Ephemera is quiet for a long moment, rubbing his thumb along the rim of his glass. ]

I don't know. I don't. Do that, anymore.

[ Or at least he hasn't in a very long time. He stopped touching people as Sharkface unless it was in violence, or because he had no other choice. Sometimes he can touch people now without it hurting, accept a brief pat on the arm or a hug. Sometimes he holds hands with people, or presses his shoulder against theirs, and it feels like a comfort. Ginia kissed him once, on the cheek, and he freaked on her. Sometimes he flirts with people at the fight clubs but it never goes anywhere, he never lets it become more than a game.

He could, though. He could try. It might even be nice. Or he might lose his shit all over again. ]

[doesitanyway]

[ Trevor swirls his glass, thoughtful. ]

Me neither. Or.. ever, really. I mean not never, but. [ he waves his free hand ] You know what I mean. They've been few and far between.

If you do want to you're going to need a warmup. Getting more used to physical contact.

[requiemshark]

[ If he were in a different mood, Ephemera thinks he might have taken that as an opening. Tipped his head to the side and smiled just to see what it got him. In this one he's drunk and shifting between too many different emotions to rightly handle. He just shrugs. Drinks again. ]

Probably. Haven't lost it it on anyone recently, at least.

[ He rubs his thumb along the edge of the glass, focusing on the texture. That calms him sometimes. A repetitive gesture. ]

Used to like getting with people. Wasn't complicated. Everybody has some fun, everybody gets to stop fighting for a while.

[doesitanyway]

Lucky. It's always been complicated for me.

[ He thinks for a moment, then offers his hand as he's done before. Usually he avoids the bond just to spare people but it's also got its practical uses and Ephemera didn't seem to find his emotions all that terrible previously. ]

Might as well adjust to it. Here.

[requiemshark]

[ Complicated. Ephemera tips his head to the side and almost asks, but then Trevor offers out his hand. A simple gesture on the surface, though what it means beneath that is complicated. There's no lying with the empathy bond. No pretending the moment, and the emotions, are anything except exactly what they are.

He breathes out. Then he takes Trevor's hand in his own.

It's been a strange conversation. A flood of emotions and questions that Ephemera is trying to untangle on his own. He likes Drake and the thought of the life his other self led with that man is tempting, something that Ephemera can't help be jealous of. But the thought of some version of him, some stranger, who got his shit together long enough to fall in love with another person is hard to parse, even if that person was Drake and this Ephemera can see the appeal in standing next to someone that kind, that solid. And then there's the opening he could have taken a moment ago with Trevor, who is kind and there, an uncomplicated person in his life. Who isn't afraid to offer out his hand, who touched Ephemera's hair and laughed with him, and it was good.

It was good.

And it helps, too, that Trevor is handsome. Ephemera's thought about it idly a few times, a path he hasn't pursued because he doesn't do that with people anymore.

He swallows. He's drunk now, though not so far gone he can't think straight. He doesn't pull his hand away. ]

[doesitanyway]

[ Trevor's emotions are definitely simpler; concern and a desire to help his friend, the warm fuzziness of how much he's drunk, and a fondness for Ephemera that's probably quite pleasant for him to feel.

He smiles easily, glad Ephemera didn't shy away. He could have. The conversation's been up and down, to say the least, and Trevor knows he pried a bit. This could be construed as doing so further. It isn't, of course, and Ephemera knows that now for sure. He just genuinely wants to assist.

(Underneath it all, though, that Trevor doesn't know is there because it's always there and he's just used to it, it's how he is... is a deep sadness, loneliness.) ]

See, that's not so bad now is it?

[requiemshark]

[ Ephemera felt it earlier when they touched, that deep and abiding loneliness in Trevor. A well of sadness underneath that, one that felt familiar if not quite the same to his own hurt. Sharkface had felt nothing but rage and grief. There had been no room for anything else.

He tips his head to the side. It feels good right now, the bond pulsing warm between them. The blue glow lights up Trevor's a little, just enough to see through his shirt. ]

You're lonely. You don't have to be.

[doesitanyway]

[ Trevor blinks. ]

Am I? I didn't realize, I'm sorry. That can't be pleasant.

[ Should he pull his hand back..? ]