High on you

This Boy

The traffic lights were reflecting the flickering hues of the reds, yellows, and greens over the areas of Johns face that were being contoured by the dark shadows. His small oval eyes were bare without his glasses, making the colors fuzz and bleed together and the lingering high he had from his last joint didn't help the vision. His hands clenched into fists as he pushed them harder against the inside of his jackets pockets. The sounds around him were no more than infuriating car horns and buzzes or maybe it was just all he could pick up. He'd abandoned his car parked in front of his home, not bothering to go in, instead he'd fled down the street. Paul had left behind his round rose gold shades on the dashboard so John hooked them onto his shirt, wrinkling the collar down and exposing the base of his throat to the chill of the night. He'd been able to swallow down the realization that he'd cried, or maybe sobbed, in front of Paul and intended to chase the bitterness of it with soda. His usual solution would be beer but going to the bar and getting drunk was obviously not something he'd want to do after what he'd told Paul. So unlike himself, he was going to that 24 hour diner to throwback pop. He rolled his eyes.

In contrast to the darkness of the outside, the diner was almost blinding with its buzzing neon kitschy signs. He nearly turned right back out, cringing at a headache he didn't yet have. But he didn't care to go home and face an angered Mimi so he pushed himself to sit down at a table. He dragged his eyes across the decorations and mindlessly sipped at the pop, straw floating to tip over at the top. The edge of his hairline was moist with sweat as he rubbed his hand through it and tired to keep his mind off of everything for a little while. Not like that worked at all.
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Paul had woken John up and allowed him to take his car back as Paul parked in front of his home. The lad seemed mostly out of it. They managed to get Paul home with a half hour to spare, they parted with a small chaste kiss. Paul shoved his key into the front door and heard the sounds of Johns car pulling away as he pushed it open. When it closed again, he leaned back on it and sighed with crossed arms falling into a more relaxed position at his side. His father sat at the kitchen counter, circling a few things in the job section of his paper in a red marker. Across from his sat Pauls plate of food. Despite not being on the greatest terms right now, Paul smiled and entered the tiny room. He laid his jacket on the countertop and started on the dishes that Mike had surely left for him, being that it was his night to do them. "A little ol'fashioned innit da?" Paul asked mildly as he turned the water on. Jim shrugged and the red marker squeaked as he circled something again.

"S'My preferred way." He muttered and Paul turned back to the sink as the paper rustled some more. Paul mindlessly dumped water out of a cup and went to stack it in another one, neglecting to realize that that one was still half full. As he shoved the cup into it, the water flowed out of the top and sprayed him, he sighed. "Come eat Paul, I'll do that later."

Paul pulled his hands out of the dirty water and shook them off over the sink before taking his place across from his father. He picked up his fork and swirled his food around as his father muttered at the job listings. "Y'know I'm looking at this for you, right?" He asked and Paul swallowed his food and nodded.

"Of course." He smiled a bit into his cup, swallowing his drink down. "You don't seem to trust me enough to let me pick somethin' so." Paul shrugged and Jim rolled his eyes with a smile of his own and slid the paper to him. Paul walked his fingers across the glossy paper while his other hand raised his fork to rest on his lips. He skimmed what his father had circled and what he didn't but found nothing too appealing. Not that it helped that he wasn't entirely focused on the subject of being out of work. His mind was still heavily focused on Johns situation. He hummed and put his focus back on eating. "You'll probably have to rearrange my curfew if I get a job, y'know might be working late." Paul smugly cleaned his fork and Jim shook his head.