bbs- banana banana shot? (booty booty squad?)

late (part 2... finally)

Guess who finished part 2 after like... 20 years?? its me lol

Enjoy the semi angst

-

Luke loves Bryce. This is a given.

Bryce was Luke's entire world, it seemed. He was the sun and the stars, he was the sky and all of space. He was the center of Luke's universe.

Luke would do anything to keep Bryce safe. Bryce knew this. His men had all been ordered to keep Bryce safe should a situation ever arise.

Today had started out like any other. They woke up besides each other, Bryce happily snuggled into Luke's chest for warmth. He remembers staring into big, curious blue eyes and laughing at how Bryce’s hair stuck out crazily.

They had laughed, kissed, then went about their morning. Breakfast was peaceful, and they cleaned up together like they always did. Bryce would wash the dishes, Luke would put everything away, and they would both sweep and mop as needed.

Luke lived a sweet, simple life outside the mafia. Nobody would ever suspect that Luke was part of such a horrible thing if they saw him like this.

And in all honesty, Luke had never expected for someone to figure out his address. He had never expected any of this.

It had started around three in the afternoon. Jonathan, his right hand man, calls him up saying something urgent has happened. Someone had come in to threaten Luke personally, but he hadn't been there.

The rest of the gang had gotten fed up with Luke's men, apparently. There had been a fight, and then it occurs to Luke that something's off.

Their leader, a man they all simply knew as Terroriser, spits at Luke and tells him that they'll get back at Luke where it hurts most.

He hadn't quite understood it at first.

But now, as he rushes to his house, he knows exactly what it is.

Jonathan had gone here, too. His car is parked outside, completely unharmed. But something seems off, so horribly off, that Luke feels the sudden urge to scream.

He bolts into the house, completely forgetting to turn his car off. The door opens easily, and Luke's worries skyrocket.

Bryce never forgets to lock the door.

The inside of his house is trashed completely. Furniture is thrown everywhere, glass shattered across the floor, and blood on random spots in the room. He pays no mind to the mess, or any other details.

His mind is running as fast as his legs, a whirlwind of Bryce Bryce Bryce. Luke kicks the door to the bedroom down, gun already drawn.

What he sees, though, makes him nearly collapse onto the floor.

Bryce is there, on the floor. Dead as could be. A big, nasty bullet hole is in his forehead, blood all over his pretty face.

Luke chokes on his tears as he drops to his knees besides Bryce, pulling his lover's head into his lap.

“Bryce,” he chokes out. “Oh- oh god, Bryce, baby…”

Luke runs a hand through Bryce's hair, pushing Bryce's blood-soaked hair back the best he can. Bryce's eyes are still open, though they're not the same as before.

The same deep blue eyes he had gazed into this morning, so full of life, were now dull and cold, gazing blankly into space. Luke grasps at Bryce's hand in search of comfort, the tears now falling uncontrollably.

Bryce's hand is also cold, skin growing paler by the second from the lack of blood. He holds onto it anyways.

If you asked Luke how he felt, he wouldn't be able to respond. All Luke could think to do is sit and cry over Bryce's dead body.

It felt like his whole world had been ripped to shreds in front of his very eyes. Everything he's loved and worked so hard to keep safe was gone in the blink of an eye.

Bryce must've been so scared, he realizes. Did Bryce die instantly? Or was he left on the floor, bleeding out and wondering where Luke was at? Was Bryce aware of what was going on?

Every question that pops into Luke's mind only makes him cry harder, anger beginning to finally set in. He tries to say something- anything, anything that might make him calm down.

But all that comes out of his mouth is “Bryce,” and he's sobbing all over again.

It stays like this for a while. He cries until there are no more tears left to cry with, until he feels like he's about to vomit and his eyes are dry.

Luke stands up, looking down at Bryce's body one last time. Bryce McQuaid, the love of his life, was gone and died at the hands of some pretentious Irish asshole.

And as much as Bryce had hated the idea of murder- sweet, sweet Bryce didn't see any point in it- Luke had every intent on getting revenge.

He grabs his gun, then leans down and kisses Bryce one last time. The kiss is nothing like their others. It's cold and unforgiving, full of goodbyes and the start of vengeance.

When Luke exits the bedroom, his head feels clear. Not a good kind of clear, though. It feels like he's cried himself to the point of feeling okay, and as he walks into the living room once more, he knows he should be far from okay.

He's not sure how he missed it before, but Jonathan's body is there in a puddle of blood. Whether it's his blood or not is beyond Luke, but the other two bodies in the room seem to give some answers.

He was too late. There wasn't a thing he could do about it, and such a harsh truth makes Luke want to punch the wall and set the house on fire.

But Bryce wouldn't want that. Bryce would want Luke to live his life the best he could, wouldn't he?

Luke doesn't know. He would ask Bryce, but Bryce is gone, and it feels like it's his fault. It's his fault for being too late, isn't it?

Then again… he was always late. What difference did this one make?

He laughs bitterly, refusing to cry again. There was no way he was letting Terroriser get away with this. He may have gotten what he wanted from Luke, but that didn't mean the fight was over.

He was gonna do this. For Bryce. And maybe, this time, he wouldn't be late.