"Sleazy" Is Every Lawyer's Middle Name

"Don't hit on me, it's pathetic," Addock insisted.

"I'm just stating a fact," he said, clumsily trying to save himself. "If you're reading into it, that's your problem."

"I don't want to date you," Addock said, biting his lip as he lied. "I couldn't live my life with you, you're...terrible."

"...We don't have to date," he said quietly, adjusting his rear-view mirror. "What we are...can become anything you like."

"Pftha! I tried that," he replied, pressing his face against the cold glass of his window. "I tried to cut you out of my life. I don't know why you care about me so much."

"We only dated because you wanted it," he replied, shrugging.

"...yeah," he replied quietly. "I shouldn't have used you like that...I'm sorry."

"I don't mind if you use me, just be open about it," he replied.

Addock ground his teeth together.

"I'm not you, Stephen. I can't just use people and be okay with that."

"Then don't use me," he said, glancing at him. "Become my friend or something--do something your conscience can handle, if you're going to whine about it."

"If only it were that simple..."

"Then let me use you, and balance it out," he snorted. "Come on, do pick something--you're not a fun drunk at all."

"Fine, fine, I'll figure it out in the morning," he grumbled. "Just as long as I drink myself into a coma tonight."

"That, I can agree upon," he said, nodding his head. "Let me join you--we can put a stupid channel on TV and get drunk out of our minds. It'll be fun."

He laughed.

"Fun?" He snorted. "I just want to forget I'm alive."

"Don't mope, it's unbecoming," he chided, rolling his eyes as he pulled into his garage. "Come on, let's get you into some pajamas, you miserable slob."

"Help me out, would you?" He asked, unwilling to walk on is own. He felt dizzy, but he wanted to feel nothing. He hoped Stephen had something strong.

Stephen took his hand and carefully lead him into the house, setting him on a sofa in one of his many entertaining rooms.

"What's your poison?" he asked dryly, smiling and turning on the TV.

"Anything strong, tonight I dont care," he replied, stretching out on the sofa.

Stephen poured him a shot of vodka, humming to himself.

"There, it's in front of you," he said, setting it on the coffee table.

Addock felt around for the glass, almost knocking it over before he grabbed it and drank it down in one gulp. He cringed, waiting for the warmth to kick in. Sighing, he laid back on the couch.

"Stephen," he said. "Come here."

He sat down next to him, chugging a shot himself.

"Yeah? What do you want?" he asked, resting his arm on the sofa behind Addock's back.

"...nothing," Addock replied, backing down from whatever he was going to say or do. "I'm...probably going to go to bed soon."

His hand slipped down to Addock's waist.

"I was thinking the same thing," he replied with a grin.

Addock frowned.

"...that's not what I meant," he replied, pushing Stephen away. "I mean, for real, I'm going to try and sleep this off."