Chapter Text
His mind is hazy with alcohol, and he knows he's probably stumbling and slurring his words, but the girl in his arm doesn't seem to mind.
They're on the dance floor, music pumping loud enough to make his heart synch with the rhythm of the baseline, and Josh shouts along the lyrics to a song he somehow remembers the words to, even though he can't recall the title and artist.
The girl is clinging to his chest, hands roaming his upper body, and when she yells into his ear, asking him to leave the place and go have some fun elsewhere, Josh just laughs and pulls her away from the crowd of sweaty, singing people and towards the exit of the club.
The street outside is just as busy, and he has his arm thrown around the shoulders of whats-her-name lazily, thoughts slow and too fast at the same time, spinning in his head weirdly, and the girl has said something but Josh isn't listening.
He finally pushes her up against the door, kissing sloppily as he fumbles for his keys, and the door opens with a pitiful creak. Wooden stairs, and they're stumbling onto the bed, and his shirt is off, and her hands are warm and clammy and Josh is grossed out, but ignores it because this is how it's supposed to go, right?
She's shoving her hands down his pants, and he squirms uncomfortably, head heavy and clouded as he shrugs out of his clothes, he's hard somehow, and she's naked already – when did that happen? – pressing her chest to his while she's jacking him off.
She eventually climbs on top of him, riding him with rolling hips, and Josh is hypnotized, frozen in place, staring, and before he realizes it, he's coming, her movements spluttering to a halt as she cocks an eyebrow at him.
"Did you really already come? Fuck, man."
Her hair is sticking to her forehead, she's sweaty and glistening gross and Josh stares when she gets up, throws some angry words around while getting dressed, and he still hasn't said a word.
She's gone, the bedroom is empty except for Josh on the bed, heaving, and he's never felt dirtier in his life.
***
The sun is piercing his eyes violently, and he groans and squeezes them shut again.
He's still naked, the sheets stick to his body, and he shuffles uncomfortably, pounding headache killing each and every idea of being productive today.
Eventually, he manages to crawl out of bed, flashing images of the last night intruding his mind.
His first cup of coffee is lost in the swirl of water of the toilet bowl, and for a few moments, he just kneels there, head resting on the rim of the seat, cold tiles against his skin, stomach acid burning in his throat.
He regrets many things in life, but last night has to be top of the list right now.
At least you're not a virgin anymore, he tries to convince himself, so maybe it wasn't all useless.
The thought doesn't quite ring true, and Josh puffs his cheeks, angry with himself. What a stupid fucking idea it had been, and of course, he had to go through with it. As if getting drunk and randomly hooking up with a stranger ever brought anything good for anyone, he scolds silently, brows furrowed as his fingernails dig into the calloused skin of his palms, and he kind of wants to punch himself in the face.
His second cup of coffee stays in his stomach where it belongs, and Josh risks munching on a dry bread roll because there's nothing else left in his apartment to eat, and he can't remember ever having felt more miserable in his life.
Thankfully, time flies by with no further vomit incidents, and when the sun starts to set, Josh hasn't moved away from the couch even once. The TV has been on all day, and he's been switching channels without actually watching, the day dripping away like thick soil from a broken car engine. He's wallowing in self pity, and he hates himself for it, but he can't stop either.
He finally forces himself up to have a shower, and the water is too hot but he needs it that way, the burning heat on his skin peeling away the disgusting sensation of Her still on his body, and he feels kind of cleansed afterwards.
He doesn't dry off properly, flopping back on the couch in nothing but a pair of fresh boxers and sweatpants, skin glistening. He needs the feeling of still being clean, still being wet... Just in case.
His phone had been forgotten on the coffee table up until now. He reaches for it and checks for new messages.
(1) Unread
He sighs and opens the text. It's from Kieran, just a few words.
You okay, dude?
Josh quickly types an answer.
not really
He gets an immediate reply.
On my way. Stay put.
His phone runs out of battery, and Josh is too lazy to get up and look for the charger, so he just stays where he is and waits for Kieran to come over.