previously titled beserk
A young gay witch with deadly powers on the fringe is traveling the U.S. in search of a substitute for suppressing his magic and a way to control his powers. Ezra Pierce was born into a religiously strict family with no one...
"just enough madness to make him interesting." w o r d c o u n t : 1,336
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Ezra stood outside of the car, hands in his pockets while Niki and Rosalie viciously made out across the center console for what was meant to be their 'parting kiss'. "They got you stuck waiting for their makeout to end?"
Ezra glanced up, seeing the boy that ran off when he first stumbled onto Emily's house. Instantly he could feel his heart speed up at the mere sight of a cute guy and he cursed himself. "I don't really know anyone here and Niki and Rosalie have been playing tonsil hockey for the last sixteen minutes and twenty-two seconds. So I'm stranded."
"I'm Paul. But you already knew that because we've met. So now you know me. I'll be your designated tour guide." Paul grinned, leaning over and knocking on the car window. "Are you two gonna keep making out like twelve-year-olds or are you finally gonna release dear Niki from your perfectly manicured claws?"
Rosalie didn't respond, simply sticking up her long pink middle finger. "Have fun with that." Ezra patted the window before shoving his hands into his pockets.
"You already practically met everyone, but the best way to get to know them is excessive drinking," Paul promised, leading Ezra into the thick of things near the beer pong and beside the volleyball.
"So does it take werewolves longer to get drunk or what?" Ezra asked in a low voice, knowing the boy could still hear him.
"I guess you heard about that," Paul said, his jaw tightening.
"Hard not to after you stumble right into the wolves den." Ezra winked. "Pun intended."
"It does take a lot of effort to get drunk since we burn it off so fast," Paul explained, grabbing two cups of a mystery cocktail off the folding table. "Are you gonna be in town long? You never even told me what you're here for anyway."
"C'mon now, you don't want my Tragic Backstory tm." Ezra teased with a grin. "I knew absolutely nothing of magic when I started showing signs so naturally I almost burned down my house." He began to explain, drawing the most delightful laugh from Paul's lips. "Most of the witches were run underground in the 1200s so there wasn't anyone to teach me. I heard about Alice through the grapevine and decided it was better to spend three months to find a dead end then ignore it and never know. But she's been a lot of help."
"So can you pull rabbits out of hats?"
"That's racist," Ezra said pointedly.
"It's not racist. If anything it's speciest." Paul argued, unable to keep his lips from curling at the sides.
"Fine, speciest. It's still rude because I'm kind of upset that I can't pull rabbits out of hats." Ezra took a drink from his cup. "So how long does it take for you to get drunk? Since you're a werewolf and everything."
"Our bodies metabolize everything so much faster than the normal person so it takes a lot. Basically, I have a much higher tolerance than you, Matilda."
"Oh, you're so gonna pay for that, Snuffles." Ezra laughed before downing his drink in two large gulps. "I spy a game of flip cup, come along, I am the champion!"
"Flip cup?" Paul demanded. "That's what you call it? You're a disgrace!"
Ezra demanded, "What do you mean? What do you call it?"
"Flips!" Paul's laugh was booming, sending a fiery warmth into the pits of his stomach. He swallowed his bubbling anxieties. Why did he always have to fall for straight guys?
Not this time. Nope. Nope. Nope. He would not let it happen.
"Flips? Flips is something a six-year-old would name his first dog!" He would not let himself fall for that perfect body, those kind eyes, that big grin, those dimples. Never. Not at all. Ezra positively refused.
"You have to learn the lingo if you think you're gonna cut it around here, foreigner." Paul smirked, poking Ezra's cheek.
"Foreigner? I'm from Alabama!" Ezra swatted at Paul's hand.
"I think we need to cut the chit-chat and play Flips." Paul decided suddenly, pulling Ezra along by the sleeve of his jacket. "Meet our new victim, Ezra!" He shouted, getting a chorus of drunken cheers.
Flip cup was basically a drunk man's tag team. In this particular instance, the teams would start and one person from each team would be forced to rocket down the beach on a makeshift slip and slide, land a ball in the rickety basketball hoop, then they would reach the table where they'd drink their beer and have to turn the cup upside down so half the rim was off the table and flip it so it was upright and as soon as they did that the next person would go.
Ezra found himself to be particularly good, considering he was always fast, even as a child. Eventually, his team beat out Pauls and he let out a shout of triumph as the nearest girl viciously high fived him.
"What's that about your 'higher tolerance'?" Ezra tapped his finger to his chin.
"Oh shut up, I'm gonna beat you next time." Insisted Paul which only drew a laugh from Ezra.
The boy declared, "I'll believe it when I see it."
The two were interrupted abruptly by a hammered girl with her arm around her slightly more sober boyfriend. "Elliot! Jared and Niki and Paul told me all about you, they think you're the bee's knees! I think they all have a huge crush on you."
"Ezra," He corrected the drunk girl, his cheeks turning slightly pink as he felt Paul rumble beside him.
"Ezie! But Jared's my boyfriend alright? You can have Thursdays." The girl insisted.
"Kim hush!" Jared looked toward Ezra apologetically, a significant amount more sober than when he stumbled over. "Sorry, Ezra."
"Don't worry about it, I doubt she'll remember this tomorrow." He said, amusement coloring his tone as the girl fiddled with a loose shoelace she pulled from what appeared to be nowhere.
"Are you having fun at your first rez party? Did you make out with anyone yet?" Jared grinned slyly, nudging Ezra's side.
"Not yet but I'll have to keep it in mind the next time I found a decent enough guy." Ezra said and Kim let out a squeal.
"I'll make you a list of all the gays I can find!" Kim promised drunkenly. "As long as your shadow doesn't get too jealous!" Kim yanked Jared away from the two in search of Jared's car.
"Is he okay to drive?"
"Yeah, he is. It doesn't take long to alcohol from our systems. He knows to be absolutely sure before he gets in the car anyway. He'd never put Kim in danger like that."
Ezra glanced back at Paul and the boy's face instantly morphed from stone into a soft smile. "C'mon, I'll help you find Niki so she can take you home."
"I had a lot of fun, tonight, Paul. Thank you." Ezra said, his voice sickly sincere. "You should text me. Like as friends or whatever. Cause we're friends. Like, dudebros." Ezra willed the gods to strike him down where he stood.
"Yeah, I'd love that." The pair reached Niki's car and she honked the horn impatiently. "Goodnight, Ezra."
DRINKING AND DRIVING IS ABSOLUTELY NOT A JOKE. UNLESS YOU'RE A WEREWOLF WITH A MAGIC METABOLISM DO NOT DO NOT DO NOT DO NOT GET BEHIND THE WHEEL IF YOU'VE BEEN DRINKING. YOU'RE NOT ONLY PUTTING YOUR OWN LIFE ON THE LINE BUT EVERYONE WHO SHARES THE ROAD WITH YOU. PLEASE BE CAREFUL AND DRINK RESPONSIBLY. WHEN IN DOUBT GET A CAB, HAVE A DESIGNATED DRIVER, GET AN UBER, CALL A FRIEND, CALL YOUR PARENT, YOUR COUSIN, YOUR UNCLE, YOUR AUNT, ANYONE AT ALL. IF YOU CANNOT REACH ANYONE, WALK HOME. BEING SAFE IS WORTH THE TRIP BACK TO GET YOUR CAR.
