Bonnie to my Clyde

Another night, another hookup

Jordan Rayburn wasn't what you would call a law abiding citizen. He was the polar opposite of his childhood best friend, Ryan Edwards, aka the "goodie two shoes" of the local police department.

The two had grown up together, Jordan and Ryan had been through a lot of horrible things, but they had each other.

They'd both been abused and more. They'd been the others coping mechanism. Jordans parents were alcoholics, always in and out of legal trouble. Ryan had been taken from bio father when his parents divorced.

At 16, Jordan had been taken away again, and Ryan never saw him again. He'd heard he'd been moved out to New York, or maybe New Mexico. Ryan didn't see him again.

~June 2011~

It was June, Ryan was alone again. The night was warm and the sounds of bugs buzzing outside his open screen window. He was also drunk, again. He didn't know why, but everything felt so off all of a sudden.

The world seemed to bend and distort. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe the drugs. Ryan didn't know, all he knew was the empty, sinking feeling he felt in his stomach. It was a painful void that he desperately needed to fill, nothing worked. No amount of drugs, alcohol, or sex could fill the growing darkness.

He turned to his sleeping partner on his bed, who was laying still. Where they a girl? Or a guy? He couldn't tell. He was too drunk at this point. He wasn't blackout, not yet. He was sore, and his stomach hurt. His back ached, and his brain was clouded from a mixture of tequila, molly, and exhaustion. The hotel room was hot, maybe why he only wore his boxers and an undone button up.

He stumbled out of the cheap chair in the motel room, and to the creaky bed across the room.

His collarbone and upper chest hurt

He fell back onto the bed, his partner turned to him.

'Ok, a dude, good to know' He made a mental note

"You want another drink?" Ryan slurred, getting a laugh from the man next to him

"Why the fuck not?" He said, his voice was deep, gravely. Maybe that's why Ryan found him sexy. Ryan stared into his eyes, tiny flecks of hazel in the mans blue eyes, a dark, almost black ring around the edge.

"You have beautiful eyes", Ryan said with a smile. He got up, and picked up the bottle on the table next to the bed, he'd honestly forgotten what was in it. All he knew what that it felt warm, and tingled to drink.

He poured a respectable amount in the two scotch glasses, and handed one to the man next to him. He stared at the man next to him, smooth, straight, dark hair, unlike himself. Ryans hair was damp with sweat, his dirty blonde hair slicked back.

He studied the mans face. Short black hair, big, doe-like eyes, big nose, shaggy beard, deep set eyes.

"I'm apparently too drunk you remember your name", Ryan laughed

"Mines Ryan by the way", He added
"Jake", The man responded simply with a nod.

"I have work in 11 hours", Jake chuckled, taking a sip of his drink.

Ryan vaguely remembered having a few more drinks, and sex with him

Ryan awoke the next morning, his whole body hurt, mostly his back and his head. He sat up, dim sunlight coming through the window. He still had the open button up on from the night before.

'Not mine, probably Jakes'

"Damn", Ryan said, pulling himself off the bed. He groaned, softly pulling his boxers back on.

He looked at the small, red hickeys on the insides of his thighs, gently running his middle finger along the marks.

He looked around, realizing that Jake wasn't there, his belongings gone.

Ryan stiffly moved his neck,

'Fuck I'm sore' He thought.

~~~~

Ryan stared into the mirror, dark purple-red marks covering his collarbone, upper chest, and up onto his jaw. He counted 27 hickeys in total, excluding the ones on his legs.

"Holy shit, he went to fucking town", Ryan mumbled, drifting his fingers lightly over the tender bruises

He turned his around slightly, red stretches running down his back, and tiny nail marks on his wrists.

He couldn't really remember what happened the night before.

He remembered going to a bar, meeting a guy, the aforementioned 'Jake'. They drank, he remembered that quite well.

The next thing he remembered was being here, under him. Having a few more drinks, and then being above him.

"Okay, twice, noted", He said bluntly. After a few more minutes of getting dressed, he re-gathered his things and went to leave, deciding to keep the shirt.

His back, legs, and hips hurt like hell. He limped down the hall back to the elevator, he winced as he jogged to the closing doors.

"Thanks", He uttered quietly to the woman who'd held the door open. She gave a simple nod in response. The elevator stopped at the lobby. Her eyes flickered up, to the dark marks that lined his neck and jawline. Ryan  reached up and rubbed the sore hickeys, giving her an awkward smile.

She cleared her throat, and spoke

"It's fine, this is a pub, not suprising", She said matter of factly.

Ryan nodded and quickly walked out of the elevator, and up to the front desk to pay and return his key.

"Have a pleasant stay?" The woman behind the counter asked, taking the key from him

"Sure", Ryan said awkwardly, walking away.

'Gotta hide these stupid things' He thought, reaching up again to rub his jawline. He walked back out the pub doors, remembering he'd taken a cab to the pub. He considered calling another, but untimely decided not to, probably didn't have enough money for one.

"Welp, quess it's an hour walk home for me", He sighed as he started his painful journey home.

"I have work tomorrow, for fucks sake", He said to himself quietly.