H2OVanoss - Vices

Part 1

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Delirious felt sick to his stomach as he forced himself to examine the sticky glass contraption.

He had found it in a closet as he put away laundry, wrapped in a garbage bag and tucked delicately in a corner out of plain view of Vanoss's barely used bedroom. 

There was so much buildup within the smoke vessel - there was no way that this was a brand new bong. The bowl and ashcatcher were absolutely caked in smoky black tar. Sickly greenish-brown tinged water sloshed gently in the water container, pushing flakes of half burnt marijuana up against its sides. 

Vanoss had to have been smoking this for ages. Jonathan had no idea how long, but he certainly didn't start yesterday.

Setting the bong down on the coffee table, he ran to their bathroom, bile rising up his throat. Coughing, he threw up his breakfast into the sink. He continued to gag emptily for several seconds, until the pain tears clogged his throat for his effort.

Wiping his mouth with a towel, he switched the tap on to rinse the mess away. He stared at his hollow reflection. His grey eyes were gaunt, and his face had gone pale. But he still looked the same - lean as ever in his faded blue shirt.

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

He needed a drink. He needed a fucking drink right now to wash out his mind or Lord help him he was going to scream bloody murder.

He stumbled out of their bathroom, and made a beeline straight for their kitchen, passing the monstrous thing in the living room without a second glance. He yanked open the fridge and grabbed first canister of alcohol he could get his hands on.

He popped the tab off the can of beer, and tilting his head back, he gingerly poured it down his throat. It burned as it flushed down the taste of vomit and gastric acid. 

He snatched up another - this time, it was a half a fifth of leftover Smirnoff  - and downed that too. Letting the plastic container fall onto the counter with a clatter, he reached in and grabbed as much as he could. Several more bottles of beer, a new bottle of Bombay Sapphire, and two crystal decanters of a red wine and what looked like scotch - he didn't care. 

He dumped his spoils on the coffee table. He ignored the stupid bong. He pulled out his keys as he settled himself comfortably on the sofa.

To shit with his kicking of his habit nonsense. Screw that shit. He was going to paint the town goddamn crimson.

He was halfway through the gin and the wine, bottles strewn haphazardly on the wooden table, when he heard the jingle of keys and the soft swish of a jacket being removed - Vanoss had come back home after his run.

--

Evan trotted happily up the several flights of stairs, whistling to himself. He always enjoyed his morning runs - they cleared his mind and got him psyched for the day. 

Unlocking the door to their apartment, he shrugged off his jacket and prepared to kick off his shoes. Running a hand through his mussed hair, he stepped into the living room. 

He was met with an ordinary sight: Delirious laid on the couch, his head barely peeking out from the armrest. 

But beyond him, standing proudly on the table, was a twisted dirty glass structure - it was his hidden bong.

His heart dropped down to the pit of his stomach.

How did he...

"Delirious?" he called out cautiously.