smooth to the touch | ryden (hold)

sweet honey eyes

the night was cold, and brendon was hanging around with pete and patrick. they were his best friends, both of them always wearing a crazy grin on their face. brendon took in a long breath, exhaling slowly and watching as smoke swirled in the air. pete was rambling on about how brendon was a bitch for not wanting to follow him into a club, and he wasn't gonna take no for an answer. brendon sighed in defeat, finally, and nodded in approval. "we can go. just this once, though" he mumbled, running an icy hand through his hair and adjusting it out of habit. pete grinned and motioned for brendon and patrick to follow him, so they did.

after about ten minutes of walking, they came to a place with an angry looking bouncer at the entrance with a blinding neon pink sign reading 'lavender home' lit up the whole road. brendon held his breath as he walked inside behind pete, who was snickering loudly, and looked around in astonishment when he was inside. there were blinding lights and loud music out of nowhere, and when brendon looked up to the poles placed neatly in the center of the club, he gasped quietly. it wasn't just any club.
it was a strip club.
a gay strip club.

brendon turned to find pete, to give him a punch in the face, but found that he and patrick had already dashed off somewhere.
great. i'm in this alone, he thought to himself. he sighed heavily as he walked further into the building, shivering as the eyes of many old, predator-like men waved and grinned at him. he looked to the stage to see your usual tall, muscular guys dancing around the poles and sliding close to the edge so some man could hook a twenty under his skirt. he wasn't even remotely interested. they were all just.. too comfortable. it made brendon uneasy.

all of the men winked at him and continued on with their show, and brendon rolled his eyes. he trailed on further to see a smaller, younger boy dancing nervously around the poles, wearing only some booty shorts that made his ass hang out and a loose t-shirt that hung loosely around his frame, exposing his collarbones. he wore a purple stripe across his eyes accompanied by a tim burton-esque pattern drawn under each beautiful honey eye, and a light blush to his face. he looked like he was going to vomit. brendon walked a bit closer as some man swiped out at the boy's ankle, grabbing him and trying to pull him as he yelped and collapsed with a sickening thud, and brendon sped up his pace. he kicked at the man's ankle himself and socked him directly in the face, right into the crowd. his breathing was heavy. "what the fuck is wrong with you, you creep?" he spat, stalking over to the stumbling man and dragging him up by the collar. the man looked at him in defeat and shoved himself away, backing out of the crowd.
brendon turned around to see the boy staring with wide, gorgeous eyes. he walked up to him and the boy recoiled, but brendon didn't lift a hand to touch him. "are you okay?" he asked quietly, his voice only audible to the cowering boy over the booming music. he nodded and stuttered a quiet "thanks" before standing shakily and returning to the pole for about 10 more minutes. brendon was radiating a strange heat now, and almost punched pete when he tapped his shoulder from behind. "woah! easy tiger" the man snickered, handing brendon a drink, which he downed quickly. "what's up with you, bren?" he arched an eyebrow, and brendon only shook his head in response, storming off.
he found a bathroom fairly quickly and walked in, going over to the sink and turning it on, splashing his face with cold water and trying to steady his breathing. "people are so disgusting. damn" he shook his head, running a hand through his messy hair and rambling to himself. he grabbed a paper towel from the dispenser and wiped his hands dry along with his face, ringing it into the bin on the opposite side of the bathroom. "so fuckin gross.." he mumbled, walking forward with his eyes to the ground until he sensed a presence and stopped, looking up.
honey eyes.