Short Stories!

He Can't Breathe (?)

Quick Side Note: This contains mild gore, and mentions of anxiety so look away if you must. Also it's gay. Because I am gay. Well bi but that's not the point. If you don't like the gays, leave now and don't come back. (also man that title can be interpreted too many ways)

He can't breathe.

He tries to scream for help, but all that comes out is a strangled squeak.

The alleyway is dark and dingy; he's never been a fan of small spaces, but that's not the reason why the air won't fill his lungs.

A small part of his mind is regretting the decision to ever let him leave the bar alone, to let him walk home as well. He only had one drink, but he was never one to take chances with the law.

The man, around 20, the same part of his mind supplies him, is slumped on the ground in front of him, head lolled to the side.

He wants to run, but his feet are planted firmly on the ground, and they seem to have no intention of moving.

The ground is shaking.

Or maybe that's just him.

But no matter, all he knows is that's it's getting harder and harder to stand up straight.

He refuses to sit though, the part of his mind, the only part it seems capable of thinking at the moment, knows that if he does he'll stay there, and when someone inevitably finds him he'll be immediately suspicious.

So he stays up, somehow.

His hands are covering his mouth now. He's not sure when that happened

He can't seem to look away; his eyes are glued to the figure in front of him.

His head is spinning.

The quarter of his mind knows it shouldn't be, he had so very little to drink, and though he does have a low tolerance, it wouldn't take that little to get him drunk.

It is quickly overpowered by the urge to try screaming again.

He does, but it's the same as last time, only a small squeak.

He doesn't know how long it's been, all he knows is that he wants to run, but he can't.

Distantly, he hears someone calling his name.

He vaguely registers it as Parker.

He feels the warm body come up behind him and mentally he tells himself he'll be fine now.

Parker is a jokester, but he doesn't drink, and he know how to take care of Gavin when he gets like this.

Though it's never been this bad.

He feels a hand on the small of his back, and blearily deciphers the words that follow it.

"Babe? What's wrong?"

Gavin lowers his hands and tries to speak, but he can't get enough air.

A pair of warm hands envelope his.

"Gavin, baby, it's ok. Just tell me what's wrong."

He pulls one still shaking hand of of his grip and points in the general direction of the body.

He doesn't turn his head, because if he does, then he won't be able to look away.

He hears a sharp breath beside him followed shortly by a shaky breath out.

He feels something wet slide down his cheek, and then registers it's a tear.

Parker untangles their hands, and pulls out his phone.

The light from the screen makes them both flinch, but they neither acknowledge it.

Parker lifts the phone up with one shaking hand, the other has returned to Gavins.

"Hello?" he says in a shaky voice into the phone, "M-my boyfriend found a-a,"

Gavin realizes he's never heard Parker this scared.

It's makes him even more nervous.

Parker takes a deep breath.

"M-my boyfriend f-found a b-body in an alleyway."

Gaiven lets out another strangled breath.

"Behind the bar on 16th Ave."

"T-thank you."

He slips the phone back into his pocket and wraps his arms around Gavins waist.

Gavin wraps his arms around his shoulders without a second thought, and buries his head into his shoulder.

"It's ok. It's ok. They'll be here soon Gav, it's ok."

But it's not.

It won't be for a while.