#joelgeoff

[joelchael-a]

Ready to Run: Sunburn

Joel is standing at the edge of the pool. Geoff does what he can. A Ready to Run AU piece for the end of the summer. 1.4k. Mentions of underage drinking.

"What," Joel said immediately, unimpressed and in the passenger seat. "Are we doing here?"

Geoff couldn't help but grin. "C'mon, Joel..."

"We are not squatting here. That's too risky. That's... you're kidding, right?" He'd been staring out at the house, the... the mansion Geoff was parked in front of, but now he turned back at him and squinted, trying to figure all this out. "This is a joke? This is a shitty fuckin' joke, Geoff, ha ha, but--"

"It's not a joke," Geoff insisted. "C'mon. It's the end of the summer. Your birthday is comin' up..." "Geoff, we can't break into an actual fucking home just because it's my fucking birthday in... in..." "It has a pool! I figured we'd blow up some floats, get some beers--" "In two weeks doesn't mean--" Geoff interrupted him. "Were you doing math that whole time?" "What?" Joel said, derailed. "That didn't take that long." "You don't know how close your birthday is? Like, off the top of your head?" Geoff asked. He was horrified. "I mean..." Joel gave a series of unhelpful hand gestures before giving up, deflating, sitting back in the seat. "I... I haven't really been paying attention, since we're not really... we don't have enough..." "We're still gonna celebrate your birthday, Joel," Geoff said earnestly. "I... we're not gonna..." They'd only been on the road for a little more than two months. They had left right after Geoff's birthday. Joel, apparently, hadn't thought much of anything out yet. They had $150 to their names and a shitty car and last night they had slept in a burnt down barn, sharing a twin sized blanket and using their jackets as pillows. They knew this life wasn't going to be easy, but did that mean they really had to give everything up; the things they celebrated and the things they liked to do? Did Joel have to sacrifice enjoyment of his birthday just because they were... they were practically homeless? ...Well, he’d thought so. Apparently Geoff didn't. "I know for a fact that this family is out on an extended vacation. Half a week. They're not coming home until Wednesday." "And you know that how, Geoff?" Joel asked in disbelief. "You talk to a circuit of homeless people?" "That's exactly what I did," Geoff said. "You're fucking with me." "This time, yes," Geoff said, and he was still fucking beaming. Hadn't stopped, Joel was pretty sure. "Overheard some of it in the diner this morning. Confirmed it with a group of teens in the neighborhood, who wanted to like... you know." Joel waited for him to continue. He didn’t. "I don't." "They want to come over tonight for a party but after that, we're good." "Geoff," Joel said reluctantly. "I don't know..." "It's fine! It's fine. Two of them got a go ahead from the kid who lives there. They're just gonna be using the pool and drinking a bit. It's not a big deal." "And did we get said 'go ahead from the kid who lives there’ to stay there for four days?" Geoff raised his eyebrows at him. "Four days?" "It's Saturday,” Joel quickly explained. “We stay all day Sunday and Monday, sleep in the afternoon on Tuesday and we're gone by sunset." That only made Geoff grin wider. "Shut up! It's compulsory. Maybe I want to sleep in a real bed for once, okay?" "We can, Joel. It’ll be fine, I promise." Geoff assured him. "Just... let's live a little, alright?" "Fine. Alright." -- The kids at the "pool party" couldn't've been any older than 16, but they had two bottles of vodka and were emptying them easily. Joel didn’t even know their names despite the fact that they were all introduced as soon as they got there. He’d forgotten completely. They all looked the same. He would never see them again. It wasn’t a big deal.

“Just like Texas,” Geoff said, as he accepted a red solo cup from one of them.

“Yeah,” Joel said. “Boring and sad. Just like Texas.”

---

When the kids went home--with a designated driver, Joel had made sure--Geoff brought out a six pack.

“Got it when I went out to get food,” he said, proudly. Joel couldn’t help but grin. “Just because the vodka’s gone doesn’t mean we can’t have somethin’, right?”

They sat with their feet in the water, listening to the bugs hum and sing as the poolside lights--fairy lights and Tiki Torches, which they had to admit was a nice setup--gleamed in the dark.

They didn’t say much of anything, because they didn’t have to.

---

Joel stood at the edge of the pool. He hadn't packed anything close to swim trunks when they left, but he'd made it a point to go swimming at least once. He owed it to Geoff. The chlorine wouldn't do anything to his cargo shorts, and he could wash everything anyway; the Wilsons--Geoff had let him know after snooping through their mail--had a washing machine.

That... wasn't why he was hesitating. The water rippled and glistened in the sun. It was a nice pool. Really nice. Joel had to wonder why the Wilsons had even gone on vacation when they had a pool like this in their own damn backyard. He would never understand rich people. They were so far from where he was it was like trying to understand what a dog was thinking. Except the dog had hundreds of thousands of dollars. It was hot. He wanted to jump in. The sun beat down on his back unforgivingly. Cicadas buzzed. A fly circled around his head and tried to land in his hair. He swatted it away. He didn't really know why he was hesitating. Every moment that he wasn't in the water made him think more, and that was quickly becoming unbearable. He supposed he was scared of the cold shock. Which was stupid, but he still couldn't do it. "What the hell are you waiting for?" Geoff asked, coming up behind him. He, at least, had basketball shorts. "You," Joel said. "What, you wanna jump in with me?" Geoff bypassed the water entirely and ducked into the watershed, pulling out an inflated pool float, complete with cup holders. "Preferably holding hands?" "No," Joel said. "Then jump in already." Joel tried. He couldn't even get his knees to bend. A cold knot of nerves twisted in his stomach. He backed away from the edge. "You're a baby," Geoff said. He was already in the pool, floating around in the shallow end. Joel supposed he missed a few seconds when he was working up his courage. "Go in." "No," Joel said again. "Why the hell not?" Geoff asked. "Are you afraid it's gonna be cold?" When Joel and Geoff left Texas, they had planned ahead. Joel would say they had a month of actual, serious planning in advance, but it was longer than that. Joel's mentions of the future had always been preluded with "when I get out of Texas"es and "when I leave"s. Geoff had never said anything about it, but Joel knew he noticed. How could he not? When Joel said he hated Texas, he meant it. He showed it. He sneered at road signs and news reports. He bitched and moaned and whined his way through high school. Geoff noticed. It was hard not to. Two months before Joel and Geoff left Texas, Geoff started a sentence with "When we leave Texas." Joel had never said anything about it, but Geoff knew he noticed. Because a week after that Joel proposed their escape. And they had never looked back. "Yeah," Joel said. "I think so." "It's not," Geoff said. "It will be at first, but when you fuckin' get in, it won't be as bad." And Joel, because he trusted Geoff, jumped.

---

Joel got sunburn on his shoulders and his nose. "You look good," Geoff said, as he started the car. They'd cleaned their clothes in the washing machine, and the towels and sheets they used. The garbage bag they'd put to the side for their stuff was in the wheelie bin, and everything was back in order. Pristine. Like they'd never been there. Joel was going to miss sleeping in a bed. "Yeah," Joel said. "I feel good." Geoff had sunburn on his face, too. When he smiled, he winced like it stung, but he was smiling all the same. "Thank you," Joel said. “For… for this, for getting us out of there. For doing this for me. For everything.” “Joel,” he said. “We’re best friends, man. I would do anything for you.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.” "In that case, let's get some Aloe Vera."

Geoff laughed, tossing his head back. The sun was setting, and they were cast in gold.

[joelchael-a]

Ready to Run: Firecrackers

Geoff surprises Joel with something from their past. A Ready to Run AU piece for the Fourth of July. 1.6k. No real warnings.

When Joel woke up, it was dark. 

He was in the car--the dash was all green lights, and the vinyl was warm and sticky and familiar against his back. His whole body ached from being cramped in the passenger seat for… however long he was asleep for. He was too tall to sleep in the passenger seat. Geoff could squeeze himself into the front seat, but Geoff wasn't 6'2" like Joel was, and Geoff slept in this half-curled-up position that made him fit more easily into smaller places. Joel’s knees ached if he couldn’t stretch them out during the night, and since they were usually crammed in their beat up station wagon like anchovies in a can that stretching time was very valuable, so normally he wouldn't just up and fall asleep in the front. Not unless he was exhausted.

The last thing he remembered was breakfast, which was a lackluster burger and shitty, greasy fries at a diner in California. Joel had been driving all night. They'd been somewhere in Oregon, heisting, and after they got the money they got the fuck out of dodge. That had been at about two in the morning. The excitement after a robbery usually had his adrenaline levels way too high for him to get any sleep for a while, so Geoff slept in the back while Joel drove. He stopped at the diner around seven, and after they ate, Joel got in the passenger's seat and... fell asleep, he guessed.

He had an audition the next day somewhere in New Mexico, a show that would take about four months of audition time and then maybe two weeks of production time--if he got it. That was why they'd hit two banks and three convenience stores in a very short amount of time. Four months for Joel meant four months of a motel room and four months of food that Geoff had to pay for while Joel was busy. Plus all of Geoff's other... entertainment.

Geoff's dealer probably almost busted a nut when he found out how much Geoff was planning to get if Joel got the role. "I want to build up enough resistance to coke," Geoff had told him. "That I can go to a movie theater out of my mind and not get caught so I can experience whatever shitty films are available. Can you imagine what watching the new Jurassic Park movie would be like if you're completely stoned, Joel? Pretty fucking awesome.”

Most of those were all ifs, really. But Geoff was probably going to see that movie high anyway.

The clock on the dashboard said 8:14. Speaking of Geoff, Joel noted as he sat up and rubbed at the dried drool on his chin, he was nowhere to be found. Not in the driver's seat, not in the backseat.

The trunk slammed shut. Well, he wasn't totally alone... wherever they were.

Thankfully, Geoff opened the door, and he had a beer in one hand and a beer in the crook of his elbow, pressed against his chest. He offered Joel a grin.

"What's up, sleepyhead?" he crooned, which earned him a scowl.

"Where are we?" Joel asked. His voice was rough and gravelly. His throat felt like a driveway.

"Why don't you get out of the fuckin' car and see, Joel?"

Joel unbuckled his seatbelt--the removal of that constriction felt great. He hadn't realized how much that had hurt until then--and cautiously opened the door.

He examined the area as he stretched, his back popping. The hill they were on was all rich, green grass, and it overlooked a small gathering of houses and a dirt road. The hill wasn't so far away that the whole area looked minuscule, but Joel could get the picture. It was a picnic of sorts. A bonfire. There must've been fifty people there, gathered around the fire, sitting in lawn chairs and folding chairs, eating and drinking. He could make out a grill. A herd of small kids ran around with sparklers.

And then he remembered exactly where they were.

"No way," he said sharply, turning to look at Geoff over the car. Geoff could've been eating shit by the bucketful by the way he was grinning. "It's... it's our fucking..."

"Bring back memories?" Geoff asked gently. Joel let him come around to the other side of the car, and he leaned up against the hood, offering Joel one of the beers.

"This is... this is Texas. This is--"

"Where we grew up," Geoff filled in for him. "Yeah, I know, dumbass. That's why I brought us here."

"But... why?" Joel asked. "I have an audition tomorrow... we were in California... did you really drive all the way here?"

"Broke speed limits when I could and the gas came out of your pocket."

"It's a shared pocket!" Joel snapped. "I cannot believe you drove us here. To this... exact place. Why, exactly, did you drive us here to this exact place?"

"It's the Fourth of July, man," Geoff said. "It's tradition."

"We haven't been here in three years."

"It was tradition when we lived here, okay? And you mentioned fireworks."

He only barely remembered that part. He figured he must've said something about that at the diner, because it was the Fourth of July. Joel couldn't deny that he hadn't been thinking about it in the past few days. It had been more than a week of a sudden influx of American flags wherever they went and diner specials out the ass and he hadn’t been about to forget anytime soon. He had been worn out. He could’ve said anything.

He doubted, however, that whatever he said was a call for Geoff to drive them all the way back to their hometown to watch fireworks on the exact spot that they had watched them for as long as they had fucking been friends. Ever since the fucking beginning of high school, they'd sat on this hill, snuck some beers, and just chilled out as the annual party crackled below them.

Geoff was right. It had been tradition. But once they left, they didn't really plan on coming back. Joel wasn’t really expecting to ever come back. Now that they were here, though…

"Does anyone know that we're here?" Joel asked, twisting the top off his beer. "Any of... anyone we know?"

"Nah. Nobody but the chick who was working the nearest gas station, where I got the drinks. But that might've been somewhere in Arizona. Or near El Paso."

"You drove all the way here," Joel said again, still incredulous. "That took..."

"The instant I got in the car after breakfast we were on our way here. You fell asleep at, like, 7:30? Maybe?"

"I slept the entire time?"

"No, actually," Geoff said, tipping his beer at Joel. "You woke up for an hour, I think, and at one point you sang along to Plow United."

"No I fucking didn't."

"Yes, you fucking did, Joel. How would you know if you didn't?"

"Because I don't remember waking up!"

“How can you not remember it?” Geoff asked, laughing.

“Alright, listen,” Joel said, feigning annoyance, but he couldn’t get rid of his grin. “Even if I was awake, I know I didn’t sing to your shitty music.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because it’s shitty and I don’t know any of the fucking words to it.”

“I’m sure if you were to listen to it--”

The first firework went off with a sharp whistle and an almost deafening crack. The darkening Texas sky lit up blue. Whoops and shrieks echoed from the party below them. The similarities to Joel’s memories of this place were… uncanny. The hill, the smoky smell of the bonfire, the bitterness of the beer, the warm heat of Geoff next to him, through their t-shirts, both of them sticky and muggy as the air, breathless with laughter, breathless with awe.

Joel remembered thinking that he didn’t know if he could love Geoff more than he loved him then.

But he did now. God, did he fucking ever.

Even though Geoff was a fucking crackhead with a shitty taste in music and a shittier attitude, and his breath stank all the fucking time but refused to kiss Joel after he smoked, and drank whiskey instead of beer even when they were low on money, Geoff was the guy in his passenger seat. He was the guy who Joel cuddled up to when they were squatting in decaying houses that smelled like corpses and piss because they couldn’t stand one more day in the car. He was the guy who would always put himself in danger so Joel could try again and again to get a job doing what he loved best, instead of forcing him to just settle down and work at a fucking gas station or something until they could survive on their own. He was the one who made sure Joel’s gun was clean and his face was completely obscured by his mask so there was no chance his face was going to be on the news, and that the only time anyone would see his face was in headshots and not police sketches.

Geoff was the guy who spent all their spare money on cocaine but he was also the guy who drove Joel all the way home, from California to Nowhere, Texas, so he could see the fireworks they had grown up seeing.

And man, if Joel didn’t love Geoff.

“Hey,” Geoff said, bringing Joel back to the present. “Cheers.”

“To?” Joel asked, but he brought their bottles together to clink anyway.

“To... I don’t know, man. Fuckin’ America.”

“What about,” Joel started, rolling his eyes. “What about… to the fourth of July. And all the ones we’ve spent together.”

Geoff scoffed.

“And all the ones that I’m gonna spend alone after I kill you.”

“Sounds good enough to me, you dumb, sentimental fucker.”

But the harshness was completely dulled by Geoff’s winning smile, and Joel couldn’t help but smile back.