Checking up with curly man {for Joel, Spencer}

[bachjones]

 It had hurt Bach, the things Joel had said, but drunks always spoke ugly truths and he simply wasn't good with women when there was no sex involved anyway.
He was pretty sure Joel was a friend and the man was nice. And nice people didn't deserve hangovers.

So here he was, in front of Joel's store, a fried egg bagel and a few aspirin in a cheap plastic bag his only company.

Comments

[bachjones]

"It was night, last time. I'm sure you know there are different rules after the sun leaves."

He makes a slow round through the store, glancing at one and the other cover. It's not so much that he doesn't likes books, he just doesn't understand the need of them very much. "It's what I ate, hungover. Fried egg bagels. When I still got hungover. So like ..fifteen years ago or something. The bakery really has everything."

[just_another]

As far as Joel knows, Raleigh isn't back at work yet, but whoever has made the bagel has done a good job and he pauses, wiping the corner of his mouth before he looks across the store at Bach. "You don't drink anymore?" he asks. He's not much of a drinker most of the time either, that night immediately following the incident at the lighthouse being a serious exception. Once in awhile he doesn't mind drinking -- usually whiskey, sometimes beer -- but he hasn't done much heavy drinking at any point in his life.

At the same time, he reaches over, hitting the button on his laptop to boot it up. "Do you hate books more or less than computers?"

[bachjones]

"I don't get hungover any more. Or well ..before. I don't get drunk any more these days. It doesn't work, alcohol. Which makes everything just all so much more sad."

Bach points with his thumb at the skinny guy with the lanky hair. "You have an early customer. Is it always like that? And I don't hate books, man. It's just ..there's no timbre to them, no dimensions."

[just_another]

Joel hadn't noticed Spencer come down the stairs, but at the sight of him he smiles brightly, then shakes his head. Swallowing the bite he'd just taken, he's not even sure what to address first. The obvious answer is Spencer, but there's a part of him, too, that wants to argue with Bach about books, about whether or not they have dimensions. Joel loves books more than he loves almost anything else. They're physical, tangible evidence of the work and the love that goes into telling stories.

But he's distracted and he smiles. "That's Spencer," he says, wiping the corner of his mouth again. They've both been saying they're in a relationship for nearly a week now, but Joel has only had the opportunity to say it to his sister and so he's pleased to have the chance now. "My boyfriend."

[bachjones]

"Your boyfriend? Dude, and I was this close to setting you up with my nan! No, that's a lie. I don't even know if I have a grandmother."

Bach covers his face with his hand. "You can fill several light bulbs with that smile, man. The only reason why I didn't mention bed buddies as soon as I got in because he looks like he slept on top of the sheets instead of underneath them with you. I know it's not my place to offer you advice but if you need to know about how to be with a guy .."
He winks from behind his hand. "Just saying."

[just_another]

"I think we're doing just fine on our own, thank you," Joel says with a huff of laughter, a flush creeping into his cheeks. He doesn't want to discuss sleeping arrangements with anyone who isn't Spencer, but he loves having him upstairs, waking up with Spencer pressed up tight against his chest, their legs tangled, his arm thrown over Spencer's waist.

He finishes the bagel, then grabs a napkin, wiping his fingers. "We sleep very comfortably," he says before he turns his laptop toward the two of them and opens a browser. "Alright. Are you ready for your first e-mail address?"

[bachjones]

"That sounds like you didn't plow him yet", he chuckles, "but okay, I know that's not my business. Some people don't talk about sex. But you have to stop turning red like that, I haven't felt this cute since meeting Cinderella."

He taps his nose. "Now?"

[just_another]

Joel flushes deeply at that comment, staring down at his keyboard as he opens an online e-mail service, his mouth just barely twitching into a smile. He knows his expression and the fact that he feels like his skin is burning are probably fairly good indicators of everything he and Spencer have done together, but he won't say it. The things they do are just for them, no one else.

"Now," he agrees, looking up at Bach. "What would you like your username to be? That's how people e-mail you. For example, mine for the bookstore is just crossroads and my personal e-mail is my name."

[bachjones]

Bach chortles with badly controlled laughter because does Joel know how adorable he's being right now?

"Make it ..'story teller'. And isn't there supposed to be one of those symbols in there?"

[just_another]

"With or without a period?" he asks. "I mean... one word, storyteller or story period teller?"

Then he gestures at the screen for Bach to look at, ignoring the laughter, ignoring the fact that his cheeks are still burning. "The at symbol is part of the address. So it would be necessary for people to e-mail you, but you don't need to enter it into the username field."

[bachjones]

"Ah. At, that's what it called? Okay."

He bends forward to stare at the screen, trying to make sense of what he's seeing. "The light is really bright, isn't it? And oh, don't do a period, I'm not counting."

[just_another]

"You really don't use computers at all, do you?" Joel asks as he types the username into the proper field, then shifts aside. "Choose a password you'll remember, but not something anyone is going to guess and type it in," he prompts, shifting the laptop so it's facing Bach.

"Then you can fill in your name and your birth date, things like that," he says. "And you're done."

[bachjones]

"I don't."

He stares at the keyboard. "I know it doesn't go by alphabet but is there any understandable order to it? Where's the C .. ah, there. I - N - D - my birth date? Why the hell is that?"

[just_another]

"I'm not sure why it's laid out like this, but this type of keyboard has been in use since the typewriter in the 1870's," Joel says, although he's not sure if Bach will really care where or when it originated. "Don't tell me your password, though," he adds a second later, laughing softly. "And the birth date is just to fill out your profile. It's not a requirement, though they'll want the year to make sure you're not a child."

[bachjones]

"But typewriters don't have internet." Bach chuckles. "Why do I need to do this again? So I can tell someone to e-mail me, instead of ..talking to me right now?"

He finishes the password and puts himself down as December 31, 1988. That's what his mother used to say, anyway.

[just_another]

"You don't need it," Joel answers with a shrug. "They're just useful to have a lot of the time. People tend to prefer e-mail contact to the telephone a lot of the time and since you don't have a phone either, at least this is one way for someone to get in touch with you, right?"

[bachjones]

"When did I tell you I don't have a phone?"

Bach shrugs. "Yes, sure. But how am I going to see if I have e-mail? Visit you every month?"

[just_another]

"I'm not sure. The last time we spoke before..." He trails off and gestures vaguely at the couch, trying to indicate the time he'd gotten drunk and high on painkillers and had behaved like an immature lout for the better part of an evening. "You can come by here or go into the library. There are computers there you can use. But I don't mind if you drop by just to check."

[bachjones]

"The library. You're the second one here recommending that to me." He grins.
"I heard there are dirty books as well. Internet has porn as well, right? Do I need my e-mail address for that?"

[just_another]

"You don't need an e-mail address to access pornography," Joel says with another laugh, shaking his head in amusement. "But the internet does make it easier. If you're just going to use my computer to watch people have sex, just please make sure not to download anything that's going to destroy my machine."

He can't believe this is a conversation he's having and yet he's not surprised at all. Normally such a thing would make him blush and his cheeks are faintly red, but at the same time he can speak about his clinically, separate from himself.

[bachjones]

"What's downloading?" Bach's surprised he's having a good time and almost wants to go tell Lara that not everyone who tries to teach something thinks he's a horrible student. But he won't. He doesn't wants to feel that weird caring thing towards her again.

"And how do you use it to destroy someone's computer?"

[just_another]

"It's when you take a file that's stored somewhere online and transfer it to your computer," he explains, figuring the simplest answer is the best right now. He doubts Bach is going to be doing much downloading anyway, not unless he gets his own computer.

"Pornography usually comes from unreliable sources and viruses can be hidden within the files," he says. "But if you really want it, there are places where you don't have to download." Which is as good as admitting he's watched pornography recently, but it's all been exclusively for research.

[bachjones]

"Okay. Look at you, teaching me all these things. Do you like teaching? Do you not do it sometimes?"

Bach still didn't understand why people would turn something fun in something foul, but decided to let it go. Sort of. "Do you have favorite places?"

[just_another]

"A teacher?" he asks, shaking his head. "No. You have to be good with people to do something like that." And Joel is uncomfortable with people one-on-one most of the time, the idea of having to speak to a whole crowd makes him feel sort of ill in a way he doesn't like to dwell on for very long.

"Favourite places? Websites? I do most of my inventory ordering online." He knows that's not what Bach is asking, but Joel isn't about to detail which websites he's visited lately to make sure he hasn't completely forgotten how to make someone feel good.

[bachjones]

"You're not good with people? What am I, chopped liver?"

He hums. "Something like that. I don't know what you do on the internet outside porn and e-mail. What do I do? What do you do?"