Jeordie was drunker than he should have been. He told Dan he was going out to see a show. He hadn’t mentioned it was Manson’s since Dan didn’t particularly like him and had maybe noticed the way Jeordie and Manson looked at each other.
He wished he hadn’t had a drop, because now he was here digging his own grave. He was tastefully shoved up against a dirty back wall outside the bar the show had been at. The person pressing him against the bricks and invading his mouth with his tongue was none other than the frontman he had been watching on stage a few minutes ago.
Jeordie composed his foggy head for half a second to push Manson’s mouth away from his own.
“I… Have a boyfriend,” Jeordie slurred.
“Yeah, I know,” Manson laughed a little at this. He wasn’t nearly as drunk, but he still wasn't all there.
“Then why are you doing this?” Jeordie asked, keeping a hand on Manson’s shoulder to stop him from moving towards him.
“‘Cause he’s a dick,,” Manson sighed simply.
“No he’s not,” Jeordie felt like he was lying to himself. Living with Dan could be absolute torture sometimes, he was so selfish.
“You’re so full of shit,” Manson breathed a laugh, “I know you hate him.”
Jeordie was silent. He didn’t want to talk about this, even if it was true.
“See?” Manson prodded after a moment.
“No, I… Fuck, I don’t know,” Jeordie struggled.
“Then shut up,” Manson said, pushing himself closer against the force of Jeordie’s hand on his chest.
Jeordie gave up and semblance of control his blurry mind still had.