vegas ➳ muke

three

"I hate to tell you this, Luke, but what you're doing. It isn't living. You're merely existing."

Luke rolled his baby blues, shaking off yet another one of Michael's obnoxious comments. He had been full of them today. Shots were being fired, but Luke remained composed.

"You know what I think?" Michael questioned,"I think this is the best idea I've come up with, yeah? Coming to Vegas and all. Won't regret this one."

Michael may have snorted a line or two before the pair embarked on their journey early that morning. He complained of a headache, concluding that the coke would ease the pain. It was a lie, Luke knew, but he didn't interject. He packed the car while the other sorted out two thin lines for himself. Luke wanted to join, treat himself to just one line, but he still had his head. Unlike Michael, Luke thought rationally. Most of the time.

"Do you think we'll find them, Luke? The lights, I mean. All the burned out ones. There is a graveyard, you know? Full of them."

Luke reached over, placing a hand on the boy's knee, "I know, that's why were going. To see the lights."

Michael giggled, "No. Not the lights. Don't you listen? The dead ones, Luke. The ones without a second chance."

Michael had a habit of repeating himself. Likely from the lack brain cells living in his head. The drugs had that effect, killing off the cells.

"I've got a feeling the marijuana is fucking your brain."

× × × × × × × × × × × × × × × × × × × × ×

Nevada was plain and dull. It was all sand and road.

But Vegas, Vegas was extraordinary. The buildings were taller than any the pair had ever seen. The lights adorned the strip, lighting up every aspect of the city.

Michael was amazed.

Luke was in love.

They opted out of a motel, deciding on a decent hotel on the edge of the strip. It was a tad pricy, but Luke knew they could manage. People here were fiends, he could sell to anyone.

"Oh, Luke! Look at that! Do you see that?" Michael screeched, pointing in every direction.

Michael was like a child on Christmas. Excited over everything, even the small things. It was all new to him.

"Hotels over there, let's check in."

The pair made their way across the crowded street, dodging taxi cabs and road raged drivers along the way.

The room was decent. And it was clean. Luke was pleased.

Michael flopped down onto the twin bed, resting his head on the tower of pillows. Luke smirked, crawling up the length of the bed to tower over Michael. With Michael being the submissive one, Luke tended to initiate most of their intimacy.

Luke bit his lip, "Michael..."

The older boy below him smiled, reaching up to caress his lover's face. He propped himself on his elbows, connecting their lips in a desperate kiss. Wrapping his arms around Luke's neck, Michael pulled his body down, flush against his own.

Their kiss was all teeth and tongue. Michael's curious hands roaming Luke's body. Caressing his sides, squeezing his bum. Luke sat up, straddling the older boy's hips, and removed his shirt. Exposing his toned chest and tattoo. Michael ran his finger tips along the ink. He loved Luke's tattoos. The blond removed the other's shirt, admiring the view.

"Mmm, Mikey," Luke purred

Michael took his opportunity to change positions, over powering the taller boy.

Luke loved it.

Michael assaulted Luke's neck with his mouth. Licking, sucking, and biting the smooth flesh. Luke was moaning, clawing at his lover's back.

Suddenly, Michael stopped. Pulling away from the boy below him and sprinting into the bathroom. He retched into the porcelain bowl, emptying the contents of his stomach.

Luke groaned, rising from the bed to assist the sick boy.

"You've got to stop this," He muttered, "No more of those pills. They obviously make you sick."

Michael wiped his mouth, looking up at the boy stood next to him.

"M' so tired, Lukey. Can't we just go to bed?"

It was only the afternoon, but it was typical of Michael to suggest a nap.

So Luke gave in, cocooning himself and Michael into the duvet, limbs tangled together.

Michael cried. He always did.

And Luke kissed his head, whispering sweet nothings into his hair.

Outside the window, Vegas lived.

Carrying on as always, paying no mind to the two twisted boys. They were just a speck, merely existing amongst the living.

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Michael has an addiction, outside of the drugs, that is.

Can anyone guess what it is?

This chapter holds clues.

Comment your prediction.