Published // 040318

wow look at the difference of the published date between this and the last one,, it's been HALF A YEAR

BUT HEY!!! this is 3200+ words so i hope this makes up for it!! i hope you guys enjoy it!

i wrote this in one go?? like, i spent like 4-5 hours writing this when i'm supposed to do other things

but with this, all the dads have one-shots and i can work on requests! thanks for being so patient guys, ily all!

Alcohol and angst.

Drink responsibly, and don't drink and drive.

@bleachlover2003 and @chocokatkitty supplied the scenario of this one-shot.

(Well, I used them as a basis but it's not exactly what was requested.)

Thanks for requesting! If you have a request, comment it below or on the first chapter.

Don't forget to vote and comment;

it lets me know you're enjoying the stories.

A: If I'm not too tired that I immediately pass out the moment I get home, I just play video games.

____________________

Joseph, in the months of drinking margaritas by himself, finally decided go get out and go to a bar like a man normally would. Not that he started to develop a distaste for the drink—that would be unthinkable—but after seeing all the cliques and social groups in his ministry, he realized that he didn't talk to many people outside of the ministry and the cul-de-sac.

Mary was going to work the night shift at the shelter, his kids were having a sleepover at a classmate's house, Crish had a caretaker for the said evening, and the parish was closed for the next day. This meant a whole night for himself, which he was actually glad to have for once.

Instead of his usual light-colored get up, Joseph went the extra step and wore something a little different: a black long-sleeved polo, grey trousers, and white sneakers. It was more casual than his usual, and he would be lying if he said he didn't feel cool.

He drove to Jim and Kim's, a bar that he had only been in a few times for a few nights. On a Friday, he expected the bar to be packed, but it surprised him to see only two vehicles—a pick-up truck and a motorcycle. Joseph parked his car a few spots to the left of the truck, and once it was locked, he straightened his outfit and made his way to the front.

The door's bell jingled as he opened the door, and the mixed scents of alcohol came upon Joseph. Letting out a sigh, he looked around the room to see who was present. There was only one man by the main bar, and that happened to be you.

With a hum, the youth minister made his way to order. He sat next to the you, and Joseph noticed the rather fancy wineglass-looking cup with him. It was half full, with a cloudy green alcohol that Joseph wasn't sure of.

"Good evening," the bartender, who he remembered as Neil, greeted.

"What can I get you?"

"One margarita, please."

Joseph told himself that he would get something different, but he realized too late once the words left his mouth.

Mentally scolding himself, he watched as Neil nodded and proceeded to work on the drink. He watched the bartender for a moment, but his eyes trailed back to the man beside him as he felt a shift, and the you were slowly swirling the glass.

With messy (color) hair and sullen (color) eyes, your face clearly showed displeasure. You were dressed in an open red-and-blue flannel with a white shirt within, black jeans which were ripped at the knees, and white sneakers. If Joseph felt cool before coming in, his company definitely wore the look of the millenials (or at least, that's what he knew most people in the younger generation wore).

"If you're here to check me out, then at least buy me dinner."

Well, what a way to start the night.

The blonde choked at the statement, "Excuse me?"

The (color)-haired man didn't reply but sipped at his drink. Joseph's eye twitched in annoyance—you had the nerve to pull that line on him. Thinking about it, Joseph realized that stealing glances and looking over at someone for long periods of time did make him look like a creep.

"Sorry about that," Joseph sighed. Neil came with his drink and with a mutter of thanks, he drank.

"Not having it."

Joseph almost choked again.

"Excuse me?"

"You're not excused," you said sarcasically, downing the rest of his drink before flicking his wrist up. The bartender picked up your glass and went to make another.

"Men like you... living a life they ain't appreciating. How's a pretty guy like you the youth minister, hm? I'd expect ya on some magazine or whatever, or with a woman of equally doll-looking value."

Damn.

"What's your problem?" the minister asked, his inquiry coming out with more aggression than he intended.

An exasperated sigh came, "I got many, and you're becoming one of them."

His eyes widened at him. Joseph just wanted to enjoy a nice night, with a nice drink, with nice company, and instead he meets an asshole who first calls him out for apparently "checking him out" and becomes aggressive for talking to him

He honestly felt so attacked at that moment.

Joseph took a deep breath to call himself down before sipping the drink. He didn't have enough tequila to deal with this, and a thought crossed him that maybe the guy was just drunk.

"I ain't drunk if that's what you're thinking."

Joseph gave him a glare, clearly tired of his rude attitude.

"Well, sir," the blonde retorted.

"I'll have you know that my position in the ministry is made through hard work and my strong faith in God. I do not see myself making some fashion statement, and I have a beautiful loving wife with four children."

The man's eyes widened.

"You might as well be drunk for all the nonsense that's coming out from that mouth of yours," Joseph rolled his eyes before angrily taking another sip of his drink.

Silence and tension lingered in the air.

"... Maybe I did have quite a lot to drink for tonight."

It was then he realized that maybe the alcohol was getting to him, because Joseph did not expect the full turn around of an aggressive individual to one of a quiet, solemn one.

You ran your fingers through your hair in clear frustration, not at Joseph, but at yourself. The youth minister's expression faltered at the look of desperation in your eyes, a look that he himself knew very well.

"I would apologize, but why would you accept that from me," you spoke, a self-loathing in your words.

"I'll leave you be. Enjoy your margarita, Christiansen."

Just as he was about to get up, Joseph grabbed his wrist.

"No, it's okay."

What am I doing?

The man blinked a few times before sitting back down.

"Let's start over," Joseph spoke.

You thought for a moment, your eyes glancing over the hand that was still on his wrist. Joseph immediately pulled away, hoping that the heat from his cheeks would go as quick as it came.

"Joseph Christiansen, but you know me apparently," he said.

"... (Your Name) (Last Name)."

At the sound of your last name, Joseph had to do a double take.

"(L/N)? As in, the (L/N) of the visiting archeology group here in Maple Bay?"

You shifted uncomfortably.

"Yeah."

Joseph's posture relaxed. Joseph had his own yacht, and he would hear news and stories of the diving sessions that were scheduled by a group of underwater archaeologists, you included. He would've gone to see them for himself, but his job a hindering factor.

"It's good to finally meet you," Joseph said.

"You know me?" you asked.

"Oh come on, news of you and your team's recent researches in Maple Bay aren't exactly a secret," the man laughed.

You gave a hum and turned Neil who had just come back with your drink.

"That took a while to prepare," Joseph noted, and he barely caught the furrowed brows of the bartender.

"But of course, the art of drink-making takes time!"

The blonde sighed as Neil went to do something. You held your cup, staring at the drink in deep thought.

"What's that drink anyway?" Joseph asked.

"Absinthe," you replied.

Hey...

"Doesn't absinthe have a high alcohol content?" Joseph stated with a slight frown.

"The stuff's roughly two shots of whiskey, but don't worry, I don't drink it by itself anymore," you explain, sipping a bit.

Anymore?

"It's a four to one water-absinthe ratio with one sugar cube, the way it's served... a little stronger by my request though."

You motioned the cup to him, and Joseph hesitated. Absinthe was banned in the US around the 1900s and was only made legal within the recent decade. It's got quite the kick from what he's heard, but if a bar in Maple Bay's selling it, might as well.

Besides, it was an offer. Joseph didn't want to be rude.

He took the cup, and for a moment their fingers touched.

There was a slight static to it.

The man sipped a bit, and it was surprisingly refreshing. There was a bitterness to it, but a herbal undertone and sweetness from the forementioned sugarcube made a taste that wasn't overpowering.

"Wow," Joseph breathed out. You smiled and took the glass back.

"Glad you liked it, but you still have a drink to enjoy," you said with a small chuckle.

Joseph glanced at his margarita, and a thought of trying new drinks to make passed his mind.

"Anyway, now that the introductions are out of the way."

Your smile left as soon as it came up. The change in demeanor was noted, and Joseph was a little intimidated by it.

How can one man go from up and happy to dark and brooding so quick? You reminded him of a certain cryptid-hunting man, and Joseph wondered if you knew Robert if you were a regular in the bar.

"What brings you here on a Friday night? Didn't take you for the bar type," you said.

Joseph wasn't sure whether or not to be offended your low opinions on him.

"Just wanted to be out and about."

"Uh-huh."

The blonde pursed his lips before finishing the last of his drink. The bartender gave him a look as if to ask if he wanted another one, but just by the absinthe he knew a margarita would intoxicate him get more alcohol than he could take.

"How about you?" Joseph asked, and he thought for a moment.

"You don't seem like a guy who likes to socialize."

When no quick reply came, the minister internally panicked at how bad he was at coming off as blunt. It wasn't his nature to be rude or anything of the like, and if Joseph tried to be intimidating it wasn't a huge feat.

However you, who to had the headstrong personality of a bull, naturally came off as brutal. You seemed to run your mouth easily and didn't care for the consequences.

We're quite the opposites, he thought to himself.

"I live by a line," your voice snapped him out.

"'Alcohol is the anaesthesia which we endure the operation of life.'"

Joseph frowned.

"That's a heavy quote to go by, (Y/N)."

"It's a line I've been living by for quite some time. I'm sure you know some people who live by it too."

Mary crossed Joseph's thoughts.

You read his expression, "Mary's a sweetheart. She's got a good ear for listening, and good gossip to go with it. We've talked—a lot."

Joseph kept silent, but a pissed of expression was clearly on his face.

"Robert too. Great guy," you said, a slight slur in your voice.

"Been going on his hunts for a while now—being an archaeologist attracts people like him—and whittling's been fun. We've talked for a while too."

Downing the rest of your drink for the second time that night, you gave Joseph a heavy stare while leaning forward. The man leaned back instinctively.

"You know how to treat the people you care so much about, don't'cha?"

The blonde didn't break eye contact with you.

"You don't know me."

You gave him a bitter smile and pulled back.

"I'm sure if someone flips a coin with both of us in it, they won't know who's good."

Joseph got up and slammed a fist on the table, the glasses quaking from his act.

"You don't know me."

"You'll be surprised as to how much lil' ol' me knows, Christiansen."

You stood from his seat and realized that you were half a head taller than him. Feeling the anger leave him and a fear replacing it, he was frozen in place as you glared down at him.

"I will admit we are opposites: I'm quite the hostile man, I speak how I feel without regarding others, I can be selfish, I have no good record behind me, and a dead spouse to reminisce."

Your breath was strong with alcohol. Being a youth minister has taught Joseph to keep a calm face when it came to aggression. A part of him knew it was the intoxication speaking, and pent up frustrations were fueling it.

"You, Joseph Christiansen? A man with a soft way with words, polite and understanding, a man of God, and with a family to go back to. What a good life!"

Joseph would be flattered by the compliments, but now's not the time.

"(Y/N), calm down, you're really drunk—" Joseph tried to plead with him, but you pull away at his touch.

"I can't stand men like you with good lives! I have to risk it all! All of it!"

"(Y/N)!"

You faced him with hatred in your eyes, but you were met with the fearful expression of Joseph.

Fear.

You stilled yourself. Joseph was at a loss for words.

You sat back down at your seat and started to cry.

The man looked around for help, but nobody came in the bar, and the man of the establishment was nowhere to be seen. He would have to take this into his own hands.

A man Joseph barely knew was breaking down. He had a feeling if you did not take the absinthe like simple shot glasses, the two of you would've gotten along for the night.

"H-Hey," Joseph called, his mind still dizzy from the turn of events.

"..."

"It's okay..."

Joseph sat down beside your and patted your back.

"I'm so sorry..."

Your voice was so quiet that Joseph barely caught it.

"You just remind me of..."

When you trailed off, blonde didn't press for any answers, which you were thankful for. After a few minutes of calming down, you sat up and took a handkerchief from your pocket to wipe your tears.

"I-I'm so sorry," your shaky voice repeated.

"I have these moments... the past does wonders, doesn't it?"

Joseph was quiet and continued to pat your back. This silence continued on for a few moments before you huffed.

"This whole night has been a mess," you said, gripping your hair in frustration.

"I insulted you, shouted at you, accused you of someone you aren't—all because I can't control myself."

Joseph struggled to swallow the lump in his throat, "I understand."

"Do you now?"

Your tone was not that of malice, but remorse.

"I hate this so much," you muttered to yourself.

It pained Joseph to see you so hurt. As a youth minister, he had dealt with many people who have been scarred by the past, and you were no exemption to that. He knew that you would be a tough case with that hostile exterior, but every man will find redemption, and they just need help.

His hand found its way atop of yours, and at the touch you snapped your head up at him. Joseph could see the pain in your eyes; they were eyes that held so much.

"You know that I handle the youth ministry," Joseph started quietly.

"We're both not in the right mindset to speak of this now. Do come by, and we can talk."

You stared at him, unsure of his offer. Joseph took the chance and gave a little squeeze as a way to telling you that you could trust him.

"... okay."

The rest of the night was history. Within the next hour or so, Neil came back, and apparently he had left to attend to something down the street. The bartender was no stranger to a change of atmosphere as he watched you pay your tab and practically run out of the bar, he turned to Joseph with a sad smile.

"He's been in and out of Maple Bay for more than half a year for the research, but only moved in last month. He's changed in the span of becoming a regular here at Jim and Kim's," Neil explained while cleaning the glasses.

"How so?" Joseph asked, drinking a glass of water to keep him sober.

"His spouse was an archeologist too. Died in an expedition to the Atlantic a few months ago," the bartender said, his words becoming quieter towards the end.

"(Y/N) knows his alcohol, but he became an actual alcoholic after the news. I've been told by Mary that he'd drink himself 'till he passed out, and Robert's the only guy that's actually seen his outbursts besides you."

Joseph finished the glass of water and paid. He thanked the guy for his time, and Neil did the same.

Walking out of the door, the cold air engulfed him. He checked his watch and realized that it was close to twelve. Joseph had entered the bar at ten-thirty.

Joseph made his way back to his car. The parking lot only had the truck now. The man recollected the last moments before you left.

"I can drive you home," Joseph offered as you paid the tab.

"No need," you said, waving goodbye without turning back.

The blonde was worried about your state, but Neil placed a hand on his shoulder and gestured to your walking. No tipsy turns or stumbling; it actually seemed like you were a lot better than before.

He hoped that you were.

"I've got a high tolerance. Tipsiness is the least of my worries, it's just the hangover that will hurt. 'Sides, my place is just five minutes with my ride."

Just as the door opened, you turned to him with a tired smile.

"Thanks for the offer though."

With that, the door closed.

Joseph wasn't convinced. If you really did have high tolerance, then he wouldn't have to worry. It's just the fact that you downed absinthe like a shot was what worried him—who knows what effects that can suddenly cause. He would have to check on you once he got home, since he assumed you would have reached your place by then as well.

He got into the car. Joseph fished around his pockets for his keys, but a light crumple was felt, and he pulled out a slip of paper with a number.

"You really want my number?" you asked.

"If we'll be talking more, we'd have to have a way of communication," Joseph said.

"Why can't you just give me yours?"

"I have a feeling you might forget. No offense."

With a small laugh, he tucked the paper back into his pocket and started the car. Driving away with the sight of the bar blurring away in the side mirror, the only thoughts in his mind were you and how much he had yet to know about you.

He definitely would be surprised about the things that you knew.

2:01 AM [Unknown]: Hey, it's Joseph.

2:02 AM [Y/N]: why are you up at 2am?

2:04 AM [Joseph]: I could ask the same for you.

2:04 AM [Joseph]: I couldn't sleep. Are you okay? Did you get home safe?