The Man in the Park

Chapter Five

Stepping out of the shower Brian grabbed one of the purple fluffy towels that were hanging on the rack behind the wooden door and started to dry off his now squeaky clean body. Humming slightly out of tune, he grabbed a second and flipped his hair over, scrubbing his hair dry before wrapping it firm around his head. Righting himself, Brian stepped closer to the mirror, his chocolate eyes judging himself, scrutinising every feature, just so he could choose the right shade of black eyeliner for his date tonight. He knew that if he chose wrong, he'd look like some cheap whore who doesn't know how to properly apply the black stick to his lids, who doesn't know how to make his eyes pop just right; how to pull off a perfect sultry look that begged to be looked at. And, Brian knew that he didn't want that.

Digging around the top drawer, his slender fingers found the stick of eyeliner and pulled it out. A grin which could rival the Cheshire cat's had twisted its way onto his thin lips. He only applied a singular, thick line before smudging it a little. Brian didn't even know as to why he was getting so into it when he knew that he didn't really want to be fucked afterwards. Or did he? He pondered that question further as he padded his way into his room. The doors of his closet were already opened, clothes already discarded all over the ground, but that wasn't what caught his attention. It was the black skinny jeans on his bed, dark grey dress shirt which had a note on top of it all. Tightening his towel further around his hips, he picked up the sheet of folded paper. Matt's cologne flooded his nostrils the moment that he opened it; an elegant handwriting written in a deep red scrawled over the paper.

Wear this and meet me at the restaurant near the diner you go to frequently.

I'll greet you out the front.

Don't be too long, M. xo

As he read, a smile graced his lips. Brian's towels were shed in favour of a pair of black silk boxers that he found hidden under the shirt and the clothes that Matt had picked out for him. Strangely enough they had fit snugly, despite them being brand new. Brian didn't find it even slightly creepy that Matt had snuck in while he was showering; he rather thought it was sweet. Once he was fully dressed, Brian sprayed a bit of cologne into the air before stepping into it. He sprayed some up near his hair and down near his crotch. Righting his hair and clothes, Brian made his way downstairs, grabbing his wallet and car keys from the counter in the kitchen, he walked out to the garage and pressed the little button on his keys to unlock his car. He opened the door and hopped in, twisting the key to bring her to life, he backed out of the driveway and drove off to the restaurant. 

The radio was set to a one of the many rock stations as he drove; his mind drifted off to Matt. How fucking upside down his life had become due to the demon that was haunting him, stalking him. Just how dependent he had become on Matt in just a short amount of time; it was a strange concept to Brian. Usually, he refused to get attached, especially on a first date but something was different this time. It was as if they were weaved together, as if Matt had cast a line, caught Brian and reeled him in. No matter how much he had avoided the subject, he was still connected to Brian whether he liked it or not.

Admittedly, since his last dream his body had begun to show the physical signs that proved that his dreams weren't a figment of his imagination, but rather a reality. Whenever he would wake up and go to move somewhere, pain would shoot through his body, through the millions of nerves which were tangled in his body, and set his body on fire. Not literally but mentally. Bite marks littered his tanned skin, purple bruises marked his body possessively, his body knew who it belonged too. It wasn't the throes of men who he had previously bedded. No, it was the demon that was leant up against the restaurant building. 

Matt's hair had grown out a little since the last time that he saw Brian and now poked out from underneath his bandana and hat, it waved gently in slight breeze and a pair of silver lined aviators sat on the bridge of his nose. A black social distortion shirt was stretched to the point of ripping, the sleeves were taught due to his arms being crossed over his chest; his jeans were hung low on his pants and a belt was threaded through the loops on the top of his jeans. Matt looked absolutely to die for.