His head was pressed against the wet, moldy brick wall as he felt Ian's hot breath caressing his skin from behind. Grunting and mounting, lost in the madness of passion, the two didn't much care if anyone would see or hear them. Cars passed by the dark alley, making him see their reflection on the wall, their figures moving perfectly in motion. In these moments, both of them could lose the hooks of reality that sank deep into them, brining worry, pain, memories that would resurface now and again only as a permanent torment alarm clock, ready to give you a punch in the gut if ever you forgot who you were or where you came from. And recently with everything that was happening, feeling Ian inside him was the only time he didn't allow himself to think about anything else. Nothing mattered and that was more so why he tried to clung to this moment as long as he could. He didn't care about the cold icy breeze that snapped over his exposed skin, nor did he care that they just had another fight because Ian was a hot head, and when he wasn't, he could barely get out of bed. He wasn't sure what scared him more.
At least when he was in bed, he knew where he was, and that was the biggest among of trouble he could get into. And now, every minute he wondered what kind of suicidal idea he'd get, and where it would lead him, where it would lead them. But all those worries were washed away with the tide of pleasure that now clung to each molecule of who he was, coming in waves, at first slowly in a sweet and almost delicate way, and then a sensation of an earthquake, rocking him from the foundations. Ian shuddered and stopped moving, his head resting on Mickey's shoulder. Both boys stood still, neither daring to move or speak, somehow if they did it felt almost like some kind of spell would be broken and all the world would rush in and engulf them into something unfamiliar or yet more terrifyingly familiar. It took them a few moments to start moving, and when they did, they did so in a hurry.
Pulling up their pants, Mickey leaned back onto the wall, with a lit cigarette in between his lips, he offered one to Ian and then simply stood there looking at nothing in particular.
"We could go to that new club that opened a month ago."
Ian said in a manner that it appeared like it was a question and a demand all at once. But he was no longer angry, nor did he seem like he was even the same person that he had to force into submission. Now, he looked more like the boy he fell in love with. The same one that appeared weak when he first met him, but it didn't take him long to realize that Ian was a lot of things, weak was not one of them. He had this fire that constantly burned somewhere in the back of his eyes, a flicker that could ignite at a moments notice, and usually did when there was some form of injustice around. It was almost annoying how righteous he was at times, but now he missed that part of him. He missed it because recently it almost seemed like he didn't care about anything, or better yet it felt like he had no power to care about things anymore.
Like he was going through motions without ever really seeing what he was doing. Mickey simply nodded at the idea, and soon enough they've managed to move away from the alley and walk out onto the main road. Walking down the sidewalk, he kept his hands deep into the safety of his pockets even though his fingers really wanted to wrap around the other boy's hand, afraid that if he didn't, that Ian would simply float away, and he'd have to go back looking for him again, just this time he wouldn't be able to find him. The sky was orange and red at places, with the stars winking from between the clouds that were created by the pollution.
The wind was slowly picking up, snowflakes appearing as if from midair, twirling in the wind in some kind of dance. It was the dead of winter, but the two of them almost strolled down the street, while the others that passed them were half running to wherever they were going to. The neon light indicated that they had arrived at their destination, and the tall metal doors were the only thing separating the endlessly cold and desolate street and then cozy inside. Mickey opened the door, and was instantly approached by a sound bomb that drowned the noises from the street. The two of them walked in, moving down a long narrow hallway until they reached a wide open space with a big dance floor. Tables were scattered everywhere, with huddled groups of people chatting loudly over the music, while other danced either on the dance floor or by their own table.
The bar was wide and metallic, it was almost as if they were trying for some futuristic look that only provided an annoyance for him. Before he could even ask Ian what he was drinking or better yet if they could go somewhere else, Ian had gone from his side. Mickey couldn't help but instantly feel fear hoping that Ian was still there and didn't run away. As he took a few steps he noticed him standing by one of the tables that was filled with six guys who he seemed to know. With a sense of dread, he walked over to him hoping that he wouldn't have to spend the rest of his night with whoever these guys were.
"Hey Mickey, these are my friends from work. We spend many nights making fun of the music that they were playing there, it's so lame sometimes. "
"Yeah too gay, believe me honey." One of the guys said, while the one that was sitting next to him was boring holes into his chest and pants. He didn't enjoy how he was looking at him. "Yeah, the music wasn't the only thing lame there. Ian let's go to the bar and get a drink."
"Come on Mickey, let's hang out with them. Loosen up."
Not wanting to bring out the side of Ian that was dangerous for everyone and mostly for Ian, he simply nodded, and as he was about to ask what he wanted to drink, he noticed something on the table. It was coke. And with that, he felt himself tense up. He didn't care that they snorted coke, for all he cared they could stick a needle in their arms right here right now. But the drugs didn't help Ian, and he saw that first hand last time he tracked him down. And now he needed to keep him away from it, somehow.
This was about to be a very long night.
