Building an Empire [M/M]

Chapter One

This story is a bit of an experiment, so we'll see how it goes.

I hope you'll enjoy.

I woke up to the beat of a pounding you-were-so-wasted and the chirping sound of birds. Their song poked needles into my already sore head and they seemed to enjoy it, too. “Shut the fuck up!” I whispered angrily and groaned, trying to get my body to sit up. Fuck, I’m thirsty. Finally getting myself hoisted up I looked around to see where I was.

Black walls, black carpet, panorama-window of high-end Pareo. Yup, this was definitely my room. A soft rustling of sheets brought my attention to the bulky shape beneath the duvet next to me. I leaned over so I could get a look at the guy. ‘Cause I knew it’d be a guy. Even shit-faced drunk I wouldn’t get it on with a girl. Ever. A shock of bright pink was the first thing to appear - already things were looking bad - and the next was a decent face. It wasn’t bad looking, average in every way. But the guy knew how to spicy himself up and had added snake-bites and eyeliner. Fuck. Not my type at all. What had I been thinking? I lifted the covers and he uttered an annoyed sound. Nope, not packing a magnum either. I moved a bit and got into position before using both of my legs to push him out of bed. He landed on the carpet with a thud.

“WHAT THE FUCK!”

The guy sat up and glared at me while rubbing his shoulder. I grimaced as a jolt of pain shot through my head. “Shhhhhhhhh,” I insisted with closed eyes - his hair was making my head hurt even more. “Listen,” my voice was raspy like it’d been worked over with sandpaper, “I don’t remember your name and I don’t like your face. You got to sleep in a five-star hotel and have my arse, so don’t whine. Just leave. Quietly.”

I could hear him standing up and jogging around getting his clothes. “You’re a first grade jerk and your arse is fucking loose!” The slam of a door and I was left with the noisy birds. I groaned and threw a pillow at the window in the hope of shutting them up. Didn’t work. Stupid birds. Flopping back down on the mattress I decided to get some more sleep.

The phone announced its presence with a metal-scream from one of the bands I listened to. I wanted to kill my former self for ever thinking that ring-tone was a neat idea. Scrambling out of bed I put the phone to my ear and said, “Piss off.”

“Someone’s in a bad mood today. What? Didn’t pinkie make sweet, sweet love to you?” I narrowed my eyes and cursed at Mike, making him laugh - much to my head’s regret. “Anyways, are you coming to school today?” Mike and I went back a couple of years. We were repeat-pals as he called us. Both of us had repeated last grade of high-school twice. Me to embarrass my father, him because he was a dumb fucker.

“No,” I growled at him. “But we have to hand in that paper-slip-thingy to let them know we’re coming along on the trip. The ‘rents are making me go. Don’t leave me alone, man.”

“Mike, listen carefully; I. Don’t. Care.”

“Awww, not cool bro. Not cool. I’ll just fake your slip for you, ‘kay?” Mike hung up. As I said; a dumb fucker. The school-trip was the same every year. We’d go to the National Museum and hear about some boring long-dead geezers who founded Pareo or something. Who cared? I threw the phone over on the bed and plopped down next to it, immediately going back to sleep.