* that party was awfully crazy, [josh]

[JOSHUA DONOVAN DALE]

Despite how wrong it was to revel in her lack of restraint, Joshua could not deny how much he was enjoying Nell's casual acceptance of his advances. He had ran over possible scenarios in his own head multiple times, of course, but he was always stopped short by the fact he had no idea what Nell thought of intimacy. She didn't seem to care about the way that he disposed of her shirt and he lay back against the couch as she kissed him, smirking into the gesture as he returned it whole-heartedly. He could still taste the vodka on her lips but as he himself was a bit of a drinker it did not bother him at all. He tensed in surprise when he felt her hands tugging at his belt loops but was not opposed to this by any means. Instead, still with his lips on hers, he sat up a little and stroked a hand through her hair, not bothering to discourage her. A small part of him understood that she wouldn't have done this sober—after all, wouldn't she have initiated such things already if she was the type?—but it was ignored with ease. Lust was a sin for a reason. "Oh, trust me," he said, chuckling. "I can handle it." He truly believed that he could, of course, seeing as he had plenty of experience in this sort of thing. It was Nell who was going in blind at the moment, blind and so drunk that her normal inhibitions were compromised. He trailed a hand down her arm and let heat pulse to his fingertips so that it would create a sensation much more noticeable than simple touch. He thought about making a witty remark but decided that his lips were much too busy to be of use in conversation.

Taking it slow didn't seem to be much of an issue for Nell at the moment and, gaining confidence in how well things were going, Joshua unhooked his belt and tugged persistently at it, getting a bit annoyed when it didn't immediately bend to his will. He reluctantly pulled away from the embrace for a moment to analyse the problem and realised that he was tugging the wrong end, the clasp stuck against one of the loops in his jeans. "Mm," he muttered by way of understanding and complaint. He made quick work of it and turned his full attention back to Nell again, adjusting his position on the couch. Even though he didn't think she'd protest if he hurried things along any more, he was still moving at a careful pace, just to be safe. He was a little afraid that she was going to panic and realise what he was doing, what they were both doing, and back out. He didn't want that to happen. Selfishly, Joshua wanted her to sleep with him. Who wouldn't want that? She was his girlfriend, they'd been together for what felt like ages, it seemed like it was about time in his eyes. And she's actually going to do it, isn't she? The awareness and realisation had happened slowly. Up until this point, Josh had just been playing his little game of 'how far can this go?', not knowing that 'all the way' might have been the destination. Not that he was complaining—hell, no, he'd been waiting months for this.

It's her first time, isn't it? he acknowledged mildly, not too bothered by this at present. Until, of course, he elaborated on the train. Bit of a shame she had to be drunk, huh? That was the wrong thought to have, unfortunately for Joshua. It was quickly followed by, Wait—what if she doesn't remember this in the morning? He couldn't stop his mind from making the inevitable connection to his own history, to his own first time. All he knew was that she'd been older than him and that she was a hot blonde, nothing more. He hadn't learned her name, didn't know how they'd met, didn't know who had initiated the romance, nothing. The lust and the hunger he'd felt had pretty much vanished, and Joshua pulled back from the kiss, glancing to the side so that he wouldn't have to meet Nell's gaze. Nothing to kill the mood like realising you were about to relive your own past in the mirrored sense, huh? Jesus Christ I'm such an asshole. He wanted to justify it in his own mind but knew full well that he'd have went through with it if it hadn't been for his damn train of thought. Glancing back at Nell, even the fact that she was currently devoid of a shirt did nothing to improve his mood. The thought had been just as, if not more efficient than a dive into ice water. "Alright, you've proved your point," he said, forcing a smile in the hopes Nell wouldn't realise something was off. Please let her be too drunk to kick my ass? Not that she could kick his ass anyway, but it would kind of suck if she attacked him. "We should get home." He stood up and tossed her the shirt that he'd helped rid her of, pulling his own over his head and tugging it down before sliding his belt back into place. God damn it. He didn't know what he regretted more—almost getting his way, or not getting it at all.

[NELL DOE DALE]

There wasn’t much thinking behind her actions, just instinct driven by primal desire. Any sense or reserves she may have had were alltogether forgotten and replaced by the euphoria of cheap vodka and physical affection. She didn’t think that maybe she shouldn’t be taking it this far, that she should put her shirt back on and just go to sleep somewhere so she could returned to sobriety. She didn’t want sobriety, she just wanted what she had with Josh now as she pressed her nearly-naked chest against his, trying to get as close as possible. Nell smiled at his words, even though right now she didn’t really care for conversation. Her brain wasn’t cooperating with her enough to be able to form words that would make sense, all she had at that point was a pleasant hum in her brain, a numb courtesy of cheap alcohol. She definitely did not want sobriety—that would mean thinking again and thinking had become bad for her as of late. Action was much better for her, and she was getting some action. She shivered as Josh’s fingers ghosted along her arm in spite of the heat, giggling into the kiss from ticklishness. Nell was very amused by the situation at hand, and it was the most fun she had had tonight. She’d pretty much forgotten about the fact that she’d been fired, forgot about every other unhapy feeling.

Nell couldn’t help but giggle when her boyfriend fought with his belt, one of the many things that she found to be profoundly humorous now. He managed to undo it, and she leaned over and pressed her lips against his again, not wanting to end this. And her inebriated determination wanted to prove so. Her hand moved to her waist, unbuttoning her pants, and then Josh pulled away. She blinked, disoriented by the rather abrupt halt. It took a minute before the walls stopped their weird shifty dance and she could focus again. ”Hmm?” she said. ”Did I do something wrong?” After all, just because she was drunk didn’t mean that she suddenly knew everything she was doing, that she wasn’t worried that she might screw up somehow. This was new territory, one she was stumbling into with her alcoholic buzz driving her. Did she turn him off? Her mind wasn’t equipped at this point in time to try and think of what it was, so she just nodded obediently and said, ”All right,” even though she didn’t really want to go home yet. She had far too much energy but she was a little put off by Josh’s rejection. It was a sad thing to see him getting dressed, like their party was over. Maybe de Spanish passion was too much. The decently coherent thought flitted across her brain and made her chuckle, something she’d have been able to hold back if she wasn’t so plastered. It took a few moments of struggling to pull her shirt over her head, and she couldn’t help but collapse in laughter in the duration.

-

It was rare that Nell woke up feeling sick, but even before she opened her eyes she felt horrible. Consciousness was an obnoxious guest arriving and knocking heavily on her skull. The headache assaulting her brain was intense, and she wished for nothing more than to go back to sleep. Knowing it was impossible with how ill she felt, she opened her mouth to find that someone must have shoved cotton in her mouth, because it was so dam dry. ”What time is it?” she mumbled to no one in particular, wondering if Josh was actually up, not wanting to move her head from her pillow to check. It took her a few moments to open her eyes, and when she did, she quickly squeezed them shut again. Even the light of day was too much, and she blindly waved her hand beside the futon, trying to find the phone she usually kept there. She squirmed over to the side to try and get a better reach, still with her head buried in the pillow against the sunshine, and didn’t realize when she miscalculated just how wide her bed was and tumbled to the floor, legs tangled up in her blankets. ”Ay,” she whispered, rolling over on her stomach and covering her face with her hands. She would be content to just lay there for a few minutes. A part of her realized that she was wearing an Underarmor tanktop and yoga pants, the first clue at what happened last night, something she didn’t want to focus on right now. Her thoughts were currently a hazy dream, and her pounding head protested against deciphering them. She felt something brush against her face and a sniffing sound at her ear that sounded abnormally loud. Pablo. The cat. Right.

[JOSHUA DONOVAN DALE]

Joshua felt absolutely fine when he woke up that morning, if a little guilty and worried about Nell. He still couldn't really get over the fact that they'd been this close to sleeping with one another and he'd put a stop to it. True, the thoughts about his own past experiences had been a complete turn-off once he'd gotten onto the train of thought but he knew he could have ignored them for the sake of lust if he'd really wanted to. But I didn't. He sighed and swept a hand through his jet black hair, ruffling it more than it already was. The things he did for that girl. He glanced over to her bed to see that she was still asleep and decided to leave her to it. She'd probably have a hangover when she woke up, or at least some form of discomfort, so the longer she could sleep it off the better. Instead, Josh decided to hop into the shower. He had nowhere to go today and nothing in particular that he needed to do but he'd always put a value on personal hygiene, especially when he was living with a girl—his girlfriend, no less. Besides, it would give him something to pass the time. He was just fixing his hair in the mirror and pulling on his jeans when he heard the crash from the living room, startling him slightly. He glanced toward the direction of the sound but could of course see nothing through the door, so he opened it and wandered into the main room. Pablo? It wouldn't have been the first time the cat had gotten into something he wasn't supposed to, of course, but he was wondering whether or not the sound had woken Nell up. It hadn't exactly been the most soft and subtle of thumps.

He did find the cat, but it turned out that the spotted feline was not the source of the sound. Instead, he found himself blinking at his girlfriend, sprawled on the floor and tangled in her bedsheets. His first instinct normally would have been to laugh at such a display if it hadn't reminded him of last night's occurrences. "Er, good morning," he said, managing at least a chuckle and a teasing expression so that it didn't seem like anything was amiss. He was trying to piece together how much of the previous night she'd remember and whether or not she'd be angry with him but he had almost nothing to go on at this point. "I've heard of waking up on the wrong side of the bed, but waking up on the floor is another matter entirely." Providing his normal jokes was simply a ruse to keep up with appearances and expectations. It wouldn't do him any good to act all awkward, then she'd understand something was awry even if she didn't recall a thing from the party. He wished that he had some sort of omniscient knowledge at the moment—it would have been quite useful to know what was going on in her head. Should I ask? Should I tell her? Oh, I don't know. The thought of telling his girlfriend that he'd damn near taken advantage of her inebriation made him cringe internally. Even though it would have been the open and honest thing to do, he didn't think he could bring himself to tell the truth. Self-preservation and a desire to protect both their relationship and his own skin was battling his discomfort with lying to her. He was usually honest with Nell but this? It's a special circumstance?

Trying to justify things in his own mind wasn't working out too well but it was all he had. "How do you feel?" he inquired, because he could imagine that she wasn't doing too great. She had worked as a bartender and even if she wasn't, Josh wasn't stupid enough to think that he could flat-out lie and pretend there had been no party at all. Even he remembered vague things about alcohol-ridden nights and not everyone had his same experiences with blackouts. "You had a bit much last night—did you sleep well?" He wondered how awful she really was feeling and actually felt bad, even though the alcohol consumption had surprisingly been no fault of his. He'd left a sober girlfriend with a group of people and came back to a very drunk Nell giggling and throwing herself at him. It's not like I tried to seduce her or anything, he thought to himself. I mean, she wasn't exactly a difficult catch, was she? It had been Nell who had been leaning against him, burying her face in his chest and dancing close. It wasn't right to blame her for his hormones, he knew that, but he was also uncomfortable with taking full blame himself. He didn't like owning up to his mistakes—he couldn't name anyone that did, really. Deciding to take a shot in the dark, he steadied himself and asked, "You don't drink that often, do you? It was the cheap stuff but you looked pretty happy with it. Remember much?" He hoped that the question slipped in with some casual conversation would sound less suspicious. There was a tug of guilt which he ignored. It's not exactly lying, it's just... obstruction of details?

[NELL DOE DALE]

Nell raised her hand in greeting when she heard Josh’s voice, face still covered. She didn’t think she could handle opening her eyes again. But in order to actually speak to her boyfriend, she pulled herself up, leaning back against the futon as she slowly opened her eyes slowly and squinted. Her hand found Pablo, and stroked his fur, wincing a bit as Josh spoke. He wasn’t being loud, but every noise seemed deafening to her ears. ”It happens sometimes,” she murmured truthfully, resting her head against the futon seeing as it was too heavy for her to hold up. ”I should really just sleep on the floor.” She ran her tongue over the roof of her mouth, but it was dry as ever. Unfortunately, the thought of drinking anything wasn’t a pleasant one, let alone eating. If she could no longer handle the hangover, she’d make her little remedy that was like a band-aid on a bigger problem. It was better than dealing with this headache. As she tried to recall things from last night, her mind protested against it. She had blurry pictures in her head, but she was still trying to figure out if what she had in her head was a dream or not. Thinking hurt a little too much, so she stopped for now and let her eyes close for another moment.

Her eyes fluttered open again when Josh asked her how she felt, and she was tempted to lie since she hated complaining. However, even she knew how obvious it was that she probably felt less-than-peachy keen. ”Like someone thought it’d be cool to take a drill to my head,” she said. Then shrugged. ”I’ll be all right.” She didn’t have too many hangovers in her lifetime, only one or two, so it wasn’t a very pleasant new experience for her. Nell pinched the bridge of her nose as if that would ease her headache. Of course, it did not. A bit much? Yes, she remembered that. Even though apparently she had thought to at least brush her teeth last night, she could remember earlier last night when she was playing cards and taking shots. After she was fired. Oh right. Well that just made her crappy mood even crappier. ”I guess. I certainly felt better when I was asleep.” Her lips twitched into a small smile as she put forth a lot of effort into keeping her eyes open. She looked disoriented as anything, but at least she was making progress. The lights were not as much of a nuisance, but that was about all she could be thankful for at this point. This is why I don’t drink. It’s nice when you’re slinging back shots and not thinking of the morning after.

Nell took a moment before she answered, trying to keep her bearing. ”I drink socially,” she replied. Which meant a beer or two, a few shots of something that was not vodka. ”It’s the vodka that kills me. Even the cheap kind.” She didn’t remember what kind she drank last night, but she took Josh’s word that it was the cheap kind. His next question gave her reason to dig through her memory bank and try to come up with something. ”I remember playing cards…that was nice.” Okay, good so far. She thought harder. ”I also remember you punching some guy. What was that about, anyway?” She didn’t remember her placement in the situation at all, and it felt almost like an out-of-body experience. Nell knew she was there, she had to be in order to know what was going on, but it didn’t really feel like her memories. Then she dug a little deeper and remembered other…things. Well. ”And uh…by any chance…did we…?” She made a whistling noise and gestured with her hand. Hopefully he’d pick up what she meant. Past the embarrassment of her memories and the nakedness that she could call back, she worried that she may have blacked out somewhere along the line and forgot if they did anything. Dear god, my innocence. It was scary to think that she may not be a virgin anymore and couldn’t remember how it happened.

[JOSHUA DONOVAN DALE]

His lips twitched into a sympathetic smile when she explained how she was feeling, confirming that she was definitely hungover from the night before. Not that Josh was all that surprised considering how hammered she'd been when he returned to her side at the party. He wondered how much she'd actually drank, what her limits were, but didn't bother asking. He figured that since she wasn't a hardcore drinker she might not be as aware of her alcoholic limitations as some people that drank themselves into a stupor every other night or so. "Do you think you could get back to sleep if you tried?" He knew from personal experience that sleep really was the only perfect cure. You couldn't feel fuck all when you were sleeping so it wasn't like you had to wait for it to go away using whatever bandaid solution you had. She probably knows a few of those, huh? He wondered if that was the sort of thing she'd picked up on with her old job. Normally he'd have asked questions like that but he figured that a single day wasn't long enough for the wound to heal. It would smart like a bitch for a while yet and he couldn't blame Nell if she was a little shook up about being let go. Assholes. He still felt a level of bitterness toward her bosses and that bitch Evie, but he kept such animosities to himself. He and Nell were not the same people—she likely wouldn't relate to the rage he felt. He couldn't imagine she was happy with them but the intense anger was his to bear alone. Temper problems were... well, they were problems, and that said enough.

He shifted a little when she mentioned the incident with the random guy, having forgotten a lot about that himself thanks to the fact he had more pressing issues on his mind. Still, he adapted to the train of thought. While he was still struggling with whether or not to come clean about the night in its entirety, he had no qualms about explaining this to her. "He was taking advantage of you," replied Joshua, sounding a bit miffed. "I didn't like that." He hated to be the overprotective or even possessive type but it was not okay to take advantage of some guy's girl. Even if the bastard hadn't know that Nell was with anyone, using her intoxication to fuel his own desires had been unfair. Isn't that what you did, though? His conscience was playing the role of the sniper as usual. He pushed the thought aside by focusing on how much it had pissed him off to see the stranger putting his hands where they didn't belong, using that rage to keep him grounded. "You seemed to think it was funny at the time," he pointed out, his lips twitching into a slight smile. "Then again, you were laughing at pretty much everything." He wasn't poking fun or discriminating—how could he? Joshua was well aware that he was prone to turning into a pile of laughter and drunken revelry when he'd consumed enough of the whiskey. He had been told by quite a few people that he was a lot of fun when he was drunk. He was never quite sure whether to take this as a compliment or to be offended that they only liked him after a certain amount of drinks were in his system.

Then she asked the dreaded question and the guilt broke through the temporary dam again. I can't do it, he decided. I can't lie to her like that. If she hadn't remembered messing around on the couch then he might have just avoided the subject and kept his memories to himself but he couldn't flat-out suggest that there had been nothing to it. "No," he replied. "We, uh, got a little carried away for a moment, but... no, don't worry." He shifted again, a little uncomfortable by the thought of how this might have went otherwise. What if he had taken her virginity based on a night of inebriated lust? 'Oh, sorry Nell. You were drunk and I decided it was as good a time as any.' I couldn't do that to her. If he'd lost his own virginity in a less foggy and confusing way, there was a good chance he would have followed through with their fooling around. But he hadn't, and Josh didn't think he could have lived with himself knowing that he'd taken the same advantage of Nell that the girl had of him all those years ago. To this day he only remembered bits and pieces—waking up and being told stories about it, a few vague things about the night before. Not even a name. At least Nell and I know one another. It was a weak defence. He knew that it was too similar and even though he was admittedly a little put out by it, overall he knew he'd have felt worse if things had played out differently.

[NELL DOE DALE]

Nell wrinkled her nose when Josh asked her if she could go back to sleep. It sounded nice, and she knew her brain just wanted to shut down. ”It might take a while, but yeah,” she said, feeling an itch behind her ear and not daring to touch it. Her head was always sensitive enough. ”It may be the best thing.” It solved all her problems, apparently. Now that she remembered why she had decided not to quite after the number of shots she knew she was capable of handling, she wanted to sleep more than ever. I need a new job. It was hard to face that kind of thing when she was feeling incredible nauseated, but it was reality easily escaped in unconsciousness. A part of her recognized that she could rely on Josh more than she did, but she had her pride. More than she apparently knew about. She didn’t want to burden him with any of her responsibilities, so she just kep it to herself. In time, she’d figure it out. Everything took time, right? Especially hangovers, though at this point it didn’t seem like she’d be feeling better any time soon. She knew it was just pessism caused by her aching body, but it was how she felt.

She closed her eyes again when he spoke, trying to turn down the volume in her head. It was all so bright and loud and sickening today. Nell shuddered when her boyfriend explained what had happened, and said a low, ”Ew.” She didn’t like it either, not fond of the idea of a stranger taking advatange of her. She couldn’t remember what this person had done, but she took Josh’s word for it as usual. ”Thank you for that.” Nell wasn’t fond of violence, but she also wasn’t fond of random guys violating her. Plus, she understood that Josh probably only wanted to protect her, since she had proven how well she could protect herself when shitfaced. She didn’t want to remember last night now, afraid of what else may have happened. Snorting when Josh told her that she had actually found this funny, she rubbed the back of her head gingerly as it ached. ”I bet I did,” she said resignedly. Nell wasn’t completely ignorant of how she acted under the influence. Not like she blacked out often, never drank enough for that. So she understood how she would find her boyfried clocking someone quite humorous. She couldn’t help but be embarrassed by her actions, what she could remember of her actions, that is. Nell did remember how clingy she had been with Josh.

Nell had been half-expecting him to tell her that they did go…all the way. That’s what it’s called, right? Whatever she wanted to call it, her memories were not doing good for her, foggy and distorted as they were. It made her blush, trying to recall what they’d done, but all she really got was that they were both shirtless. So she couldn’t help but be relieved when Josh assured her that her innocence was still in tact. ”Cool,” she said as she ran her hands down her face, more fatigued than she thought, not wanting to say anything more on the matter. Drunk, she was a lot more…forward with her affections, and it was another thing that embarrassed her. She didn’t blame Josh for whatever he may have done while she was intoxicated, because she was well aware of what she was like. Besides, it’s not like she hated physical things. She was just a Nervous Nelly. The thought almost made her laugh, but luckily she was better at restraining unnecessary gestures than when she was drunk. ”I’m never drinking again,” she muttered, even though she knew it was untrue. For one, it wasn’t as if she could predict when she’d next decide to get hammered (not that she had really planned to, she just thought it was a good idea at the time). And besides, she could handle drinking socially. She just…needed to quite with the vodka. ”At least there were no roofs this time.” Well, she hoped since she couldn’t remember any and that she was relatively unharmed.