Bad Habits

In Denial Is The Worst Place To Be

"Time to get up, lazy ass," Parker practically yells while he pulls the curtains across in Dakota's room, letting the low afternoon sun shine through the window.

Dakota pulls his blanket up over his head and groans in annoyance before he mutters, "fuck off, P."

But Parker only laughs and sits on the end of the bed.

"Seriously, Koda. It's four thirty."

"Don't care," Dakota's voice is muffled and he sends a foot flying straight into Parker's leg, pushing him off the bed. Parker lands on the floor with a thump and he hears a giggle coming from the top of the bed.

"That's it," he says as he hoists himself up again and marches towards the top of the bed. He grasps the blanket and pulls it all the way off the hungover brunette who instantly shrivels up like a vampire in the sunlight. "Get up."

"You're a piece of shit," Dakota mutters as he sits in an upright position, popping the painkillers that Parker brought him in his mouth, washing them down with water.

"Yeah, but you love me," Parker replies with a grin. Dakota rolls his eyes but nods anyway. "You wanna get some food?"

"Only if we can go to that diner down the road," Dakota says as he finally gets out of his bed and pulls on a clean shirt and sweatpants.

"Of course, baby boy. Only the best for you," Parker winks and walks out of Dakota's room that reeks of alcohol and sweat. "But for God's sake, Koda, open a fucking window."

Dakota laughs from his room, opens his window and continues getting himself ready. Once he brushes his teeth, flattens his hair down and slips on some socks and slides, he heads out to meet Parker. They walk the short ten minutes to the diner in a comfortable silence. Once they get inside, they're seated at a table at the back of the diner, with a window overlooking the quiet road.

"You look like shit," Parker finally says after the waiter takes their orders.

"Feel like it too," Dakota says as he leans back against the cushioned booth. Parker's eyes flicker over the dark shadows under Dakota's eyes, the tired look on his face and the scruffy mop of hair on his head that haven't been done today.

"Are you okay, Koda?" Parker asks hesitantly, knowing the question could possibly annoy him.

"I'm fine," Dakota replies, smiling warmly up at the waiter who passes them their food. He ordered a stack of waffles and Parker ordered a burger and fries. Dakota tucks into his waffles, oblivious to the concerned look Parker is giving him. When he finally looks up, with a mouth full of waffles and syrup dripping down his chin, he mumbles, "what?"

"I'm worried about you," Parker says in a low voice, even though there's no one around to hear. Dakota's fork freezes in his mouth for a second before he slowly pulls it out, chewing slowly, swallowing, and taking a sip of water before speaking.

"I told you, Parker, I'm fine." His words have a certain abruptness to them, and Parker knows he probably shouldn't push it. But he does anyway, knowing his best friend desperately needed some help.

"You're not, Koda," he says, his burger completely abandoned. "I know you, you are not fine."

"Parker," Dakota warns, "drop it."

But Parker persists. "I'm not dropping it, not this time." He had always been worried for his friend, checking up on him every now and then, but Dakota would always get irritated and brush off whatever he was feeling. He'd become closed-off and Parker was scared he was bottling up his emotions. He desperately wanted Dakota to see a therapist, but he wasn't sure how to bring it up without Dakota getting angry.