Gay Neko Story (Sequel) (boyxboy)

Well...here we go

Warning: Drinking and smoking. A brief moment of suicidal thinking.
-Summary at the bottom if you wanna skip this chapter.

No POV

Drake took into realization that Jaylen was still gone, and, not to mention, that his master was probably looking for him. He was probably scared and worried and- ha! Who was he kidding? He was probably just mad his fuck toy ran away. He was so scared of being found, what if Bryan found him? He'd be in so much trouble, and that'd be the worst punishment ever. Running away. Hiding. Drinking. Everything.

Along with the fact that he just finished masterbating while thinking of Jaylen. Jaylen.

Oh how he missed Jaylen as well. He didn't know how he could go on. Maybe he shouldn't. Jaylen is gone, nothing he can do about it. He's probably gone insane, considering the fact that he hilucinated Jaylen and bringing him home - or whatever you call a rubbish piece of scrap metal with housing basics...it was all rusted anyways. Torn. Broken. Just like him. Maybe he should just end it.

Anyways, he just imagined everything. Caring for Jaylen. Getting to see him. Touch him. Smell him. Feel his warmth. Man...love can make you do crazy things.

Drake walked over to his...."couch", and sat down. He glanced over and noticed a somewhat full whisky bottle. He picked it up and chugged it down. The cheap alcohol stung his sore throat, and the taste was so bitter he could barely keep it down. The taste of cheap whisky and puke, not the best combination.

He noticed a feeling, the feeling he felt when Jaylen ran away. The empty, dark feeling in his chest. His heart was sinking straight into his stomach, and it was slowly turning to stone. The alcohol wasn't helping it, nor was it helping his headache.

Slowly, he got up and wobbled to the door. He stumbled outside and into the street, nearly getting hit by a passersby car.

"Hey, watch where you're going!", a gruff man yelled out of his window. Drake totally ignored it actually wishing it would've hit him and ended his pathetic excuse of a life.

Though, he just lingered around until he reached a drug store. He swayed on his feet as they made him progress forward slowly until he finally reached the cashier counter.

"I'd like your cheapest pack of cigs..." He messily slurred out. The lady plopped a box of cheap cigarettes onto the counter top, and he pulled out a few crumpled up bills and handed them to her. She punched a few buttons on the register and placed in the money. She put on a fake smile and stated, "Have a good night, sir." He smirked and nodded then wobbled out the door back to his "house" -more like shack..

He grabbed his old rusted lighter and sat back down on his couch. He opened the box and pulled out a cigarette, then he lit the lighter and neared it to the end of the cig and saw as the stick began to glow an amber color. He inhaled and puffed a few clouds, leaning back and enjoying the tingle of the cheap nicotine throughout his body. He smiled and puffed a few more clouds, and eventually there was none left and he had to grab another one. He smoked one after another after another. His pack eventually ran out, and when he noticed this he grabbed the box, crushed it, and chunked it across the room. He screamed out in anger, and he searched around his shack to find another bottle or even a flask. Once he finally found some more old cheap whisky he just fell onto the floor beside the cabinet. He grabbed bottle after bottle, flask after flask, and he chugged down the bitter liquid. Each one worst than the last, he had to break for a few minutes, otherwise he'd puke. He ended up passing out on the peeled tile of the kitchen.

-

Once he came to he felt a rush in his head. He tried to stand, but his body was so overwhelmed with all the motion he felt as if he was gonna faint, so he had to lay back down. He ended up puking his guts out, this lasted for hours. He decided that he should get some water to try and feel better, so he grabbed a flask, the only think he could find to drink out of, and he crawled over to the sink. He turned on the faucet, reaching up and over the counter to reach it, and filled the flask with the clear liquid.

He smiled and sat back and slowly sipped the water, but since the water bill wasn't paid very well the water was warm and gross. It didn't satisfy his head nor his stomach, and he desperately needed to rid this taste in his mouth. So, he scrambled around the entire abode, but he couldn't find a thing. He laid back against the counter in defeat, and he decided to just take another nap on the hard bumpy tile floor.

Summary: All that basically happened was that Drake realized that everything was just his imagination, so he decided to drink and smoke to feel better. Of course he just ended up feeling sick, especially because it was all cheap, and he just ended up puking and feeling dizzy, so he went back to sleep.

Not an exciting summary, sorry...

Also, sorry for the short and bad chapter, it's just a small update on what's going on with Drake. Yeah...he's not too hot rn.

Well, I thought I'd update for you guys. Bc it's like 1:30 a.m. (1:28 to be exact) and I'm bored with nothing else to do. So...yeah. I hope you enjoyed it. Anything you'd like to see in particular? Like anything with Jaylen and his new master? Like rougher punishments? Maybe when Drake and Jaylen meet back up they can do that. Like maybe Jaylen could tell Drake that he liked the dominance and yeah...idk just an idea. Ok bye