Joey, baby - don't get crazy
Detours, fences...I get defensive

I know you've heard it all before
So I don't say it anymore
I just stand by and let you
Fight your secret war
And though I used to wonder why
I used to cry till I was dry
Still sometimes I get a strange pain inside
Oh, Joey, if you're hurting so am I

He must have known I would drink. And maybe he just guessed that I would drink myself into a puddle of Joey-goo on the floor. Damn him. Damn him and the way he knows me so well.

I propped my head in my hands and sobbed.

If he didn't know me so well, the bastard wouldn't know how to hurt me. Was he really not angry anymore? Was he finally ready to fess up to what happened between us?

God. This song is so perfect. I haven't heard it in years. I wonder how he remembered it. I can just imagine him at home singing along to it -- his high voice perfectly clearing every note.

I don't think I can stay awake much longer. Good. I can fall asleep and stop thinking about him. Him and his dumb smile, his dumb beautiful eyes, his dumb defensiveness. Dammit, we hadn't even done much yet and he freaked out. Stomped out and left me nearly naked in my bed. I didn't even bother to put my clothes back on to run after him. We had the whole argument on my front lawn, me in my undies, him with his pants unzipped and shirt unbuttoned, people driving by gawking, and my next door neighbor trying to pretend that nothing was happening. Afterwards, I went back inside and cried myself to sleep, his peppery scent still in the sheets.

Kind of like I'm doing now, except I don't think I'll make it to the bed, and I washed those cursed sheets yesterday. But I can still smell him.

Joey, honey - I got some money
All is forgiven. Listen, listen

But if I seem to be confused
I didn't mean to be with you.
And when you said I scared you
Well I guess you scared me too
But we got lucky once before
And I don't want to close the door
And if you're somewhere out there
Passed out on the floor
Oh Joey, I'm not angry anymore

Yeah, I was scared. Scared that I was letting myself love another man. Love Joey. Scared that I wasn't completely straight after all. When he had told me a few months ago that he had dated men as well as women, I got this pain like someone grabbing at me from the inside. I ignored it. It came back. Frequently. It came back when I looked at him for very long. My eyes would eventually trail down the sides of his cheeks where he grew hair, and then up his chin to his curvy lips. And when he caught me looking at him like that, whatever was in me finally ripped itself out. I pulled his face to mine and kissed him like I had always wanted to.

The next night, I was over at his place for dinner. We never did eat. He attacked me at the door and pulled me toward his bedroom. He fell back onto the bed with me on top of him and whimpered. He ground his hardon into my groin and I was ready to faint.

Shirt over head. Kiss. Tongue. Wet. Thrust. Joey. Unzipped pants. Ohhhhh. Hands in hair. Pants below waist, below knees. Roll over. Chris please. Button after button.

Wait.

I stopped and he looked at me funny, I let go of him and ran out the door. The rest is obvious. What's wrong? What happened? Why not? I'm sorry. I can't. I don't know.

It's been a few days, and now I can't sleep. So it doesn't help that the radio is playing this song. God. I want him to be listening. But he probably IS drunk and passed out on the floor. Hell, I don't even know if he listens to this station. Maybe this means that I should give him another chance. I just wish it hadn't happened so fast. I do love him -- I just don't know if I should.

And if I seem to be confused
I didn't mean to be with you.
And when you said I scared you
Well I guess you scared me too
But if it's love you're looking for
Then I can give a little more
And if you're somewhere drunk and
Passed out on the floor
Oh Joey, I'm not angry anymore
Angry anymore, angry anymore

Chris pushed open the door that he was suprised to find unlocked. All the lights in the house were still on, despite it being four in the morning. In the living room, the radio was on, but had gone to static, like somebody had unsuccesfully tried to turn it off. On the coffee table was a broken vodka bottle, an empty cranberry juice bottle, and a mostly empty bottle of wine. A few beer bottles were scattered on the floor.

Chris was pretty sure of what he would find next.

Joey had made it to the hallway, and was passed out. He looked extremely uncomfortable -- he laid face down, his arms trapped beneath him, his legs bent at the knee and leaning against the wall.

"He's gonna owe me for this one," Chris thought, as he turned Joey over and dragged him to his bedroom. He undressed Joey, who showed no signs of waking, and laid him under the covers. Chris went around the house, turned off lights and gathered empty liquor bottles. He drank the last bit of wine and returned to Joey's bedroom.

He stripped down to his boxers and sat on the bed, stroking the side of Joey's face with his fingers. Softly, Chris sang the last part of the song into his ear. Joey made an unintelligible grunting sound. Chris slid under the covers and was engulfed by warm muscular arms.

End.