H2OVanoss & Bitches

Addiction (H2OVanoss)

Jonathan stared at the sickly green glass tube. He found it in a box wrapped in a trash liner hidden in the back corner of the closet in Evan's room while putting away some laundry. There was so much buildup through the glass tube that he could immediately tell that it wasn't new, not even close. The bowl and ashtray were caked with tar. The greenish-brown water sloshed gently pushing flakes of half-burnt marijuana against the sides.

There was no telling how long Evan had been smoking this shit. Jonathan had no fucking clue but he definitely didn't start yesterday. He set the bong on the counter the bile rising up his throat as he ran to their bathroom his breakfast making an unwanted appearance in the toilet. He stayed there for a moment, his jaw still tight and the sick feeling still in the back of his throat. Wiping his mouth with a towel he switched the tap on to rinse the taste out of his mouth. 

He looked up and was met with a face. His eyes once sky blue now a hollow gray, and his face pale. But he still looked the same.

Was there something wrong? Did Evan find something wrong with him? Why would he do this?

He sighed. He needed a drink. He needed one right fucking now or murder would ensue.

He walked down the hall heading straight for the fridge ignoring the bong on the counter. He yanked open the fridge and grabbed a beer, popping the tab and chugging it down. It burned as it washed away the vomit and stomach bile.

He swiped another. A half full bottle of Captain Morgan's downing that quickly and grabbing more beers, a bottle of tequila and a bottle and a half of red wine. He set his drinks on the coffee table and getting comfortable on the couch not even giving the monstrosity on the counter a second glance.

To hell with kicking his habit. Fuck it all, right? He was gonna paint the town fucking red.

--

Evan walked up the stairs whistling joyfully to himself. He loved his morning runs by the docks, they cleared his head and got him ready for the day.

Unlocking the door he stepped in kicking off his running shoes and hanging his jacket on the hook. Running a hand through his wet hair he stepped into the living room. Seeing what he normally saw, Jonathan laying on the couch his head barely hanging off the armrest.

But beyond him in the kitchen sitting proudly on the counter was a dirty glass tube. The bong he was sure he hid so well. His heart sank to his stomach. 

When did he...

"Jonathan?" he called quietly. The voice that responded was hoarse and sickly "What in the name of hell is this Evan?" he rose unsteadily from his position on the sofa walking to the kitchen and grabbing the bong "What is this?" his face grew frustrated. Evan only shut his eyes in reply. 'How did he find it?' 

"Tell me, goddamn it!" Jonathan yelled. Evan sighed "Exactly what you think it is." he spoke coolly opening his eyes and looking into faded, sky blue "It's a bong." Jonathan let out a shaky sigh "And why is it you have a bong, Evan?" the man asked obviously angered. "Why is there a fucking bong in out apartment?"

"So I can smoke weed with it," he answered shifting from side to side. "Why do you need this, Evan?  What the fuck is wrong with you!" The drunk man gave him a cloudy glare. 

Something in Evan snapped.

Something wrong with him? Fucking seriously? Jonathan drank himself half to death while he was forced to sit by and watch! Couldn't he see himself?

"So what? You're a fucking alcoholic!" Evan shouted angrily his hands clenched into fists at his sides. "Yeah, I'm an alcoholic. But you're a fucking stoner!" Jonathan shouted as he threw the bong across the room. It hit the wall shattering upon impact spilling the old water on the carpet.

"What the shit Jonathan! That's my stuff!" he grabbed Jonathan by the shirt collar and pinned him to the wall "What the hell do you think you're doing bastard?!" Evan shouted venom lacing his words as he pushed Jonathan to the wall harder.

"Fuck you, Evan!" He yelled as he attempted to rip the tanned arm from his neck "You're such an asshole!" he tried to knee Evan in the stomach. "What? Does this make you some kind of saint then?" he sneered as he blocked the kick pinning his leg to the wall with his hand "Does being drunk give you a pass to scream at me all the fucking time?" he whispered into his ear. "Does it?" 

"Not like being high all the time lets you do the same to me, you prick!" he struggled attempting to get out of Evan's strong grip "Let me go fucker!" 

"Calling names doesn't excuse the fact that you're piss drunk right now and I'm sober, Jay." Evan chuckled breathlessly "I can smell it on your breath. So, what's your excuse?" Jonathan stopped struggling "You." he growled, his temper coming back just as quick. "Have you paid any bit of attention to me this lately? I have been trying to quit for you but you ruined that with the fucking bong!"

Evan couldn't speak. His grip on his lover's shirt loosened and he let go of his leg. He watched as the man slumped against the wall his lip quivering as Evan's brown eyes bored into hurt blue ones that didn't dare look his way. "You were really trying? For me?" Evan whispered and Jonathan nodded. He couldn't stand to look at him, call him a coward but he couldn't look at his best friend like that without breaking down himself. He turned to the table sitting on the couch and started counting. He hated numbers, but he needed to know.

He refused to think about his own problem. They were easy to overcome in his mind, and he'd only been smoking for a few months if only to keep himself sane while Jonathan was drunk off his ass all the time. He couldn't remember the last time his boyfriend was completely sober or not hungover. 

He thumbed the corners of his sleeves as he counted the bottles, the scent of sticky dried alcohol drifted to his nose making him cover his nose. There was no way he could ever tell Jonathan his drinking was what caused him to crack.

--

Jonathan was hurt. He never thought Evan would betray him like that. He only tried to quit for him because god knows he couldn't do it alone. He tried so hard to pull him out of the grave he was digging for himself now that he had Evan at his side.

He slumped weakly against the wall, barely aware of the loosening grip on his shirt. Evan smoked, and a lot by the looks of it. Why? Why would Evan backstab him like this? Why would he have an addiction too? Evan was supposed to be clean. He was cleaning himself up for Evan. For his boyfriend, so he wouldn't feel like it was his burden to just sit back and watch him drink himself to death.

He wanted to cry.

Evan wasn't special like he thought, he was nothing he had built up his beloved to be. He was human, like everyone else. He wasn't a beacon of light at the end of the tunnel, he wasn't an angel, he wasn't pure, he wasn't anything. Just human. Just like him. 

He crumbled crying into his torn jeans, he sniffled and wiped his eyes getting up and going to his room grabbing his suitcase and packing some clothes. Wiping his eyes again he walked towards the door be he stopped when he felt Evan grab his arm "Where are you going?" Evan asked and Jonathan shook his head "I'm sorry Evan." he sobbed "I'm so, so sorry. This is my fault, I realize that. I'm leaving, you don't deserve this. I don't deserve you. You should be with someone who makes you happy. Not someone who drives you to smoke pot just to stay sane."

Jonathan turned to Evan kissing him hard before pulling away. "Goodbye, Love."