vegas ➳ muke

five

"Why haven't we found them yet?" Michael whined.

"Maybe they have them locked up like Area 51 or some shit," Luke replied, interlacing his fingers with Michael's.

The pair slept until the late afternoon.

Michael woke, jumping on the bed like a child, and begging Luke to take him to find the lights. He had his mind set on them. That was the whole reason they came, after all.

But after hours of searching without luck, the impatient boy felt like giving up.

"Do you think I'm burning calories?" He questioned, studying his figure, "I mean, walking burns calories, right?"

Luke rolled his eyes, "You aren't fat, Michael. You don't need to burn any calories."

Michael released Luke's hand, swung his arm back, and hit Luke in the chest with a thud.

"Hell was that about?" Luke yelled, rubbing at the sore spot.

"I've got a quick reaction to bullshit."

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The Palomino Club was unlike anything Michael had ever seen before. Lights adorned the building, from floor to ceiling. The bar was neon red, the seats classic white, and the stage held several platinum poles.

This was a strip club, Michael knew.

But he dared not to say anything. After all, Luke had agreed to let Michael tag along on a deal, and the last thing he wanted was to be sent back to the hotel.

Luke led the older boy over to a set of neon chairs, pulling one out for Michael, before motioning for a waitress.

"What could I get for you?" The busty blond asked, eyeing the boys up.

"Rum. Straight. No ice," Luke replied, winking.

The waitress smiled, pushing out her chest, a little too obviously. Michael scoffed, waving her off.

The two sat in silence for awhile, observing the club's occupants. Michael wondered which of these men would be the one. Luke never gave any insight on who his clients were and Michael gave up on asking ages ago.

"Mr. Hemmings!" A tall, built man greeted, approaching the table with a smile.

Like stood, shaking the man's hand, "Mr. Hood, this is Michael, my partner. I hope you don't mind."

Mr. Hood studied Michael carefully, making the green haired boy instantly feel insecure.

Did he look ugly? Fat? Surely, out of place?

"Follow me, would you?"

The man led them into the VIP section of the club, hailed a waitress, and ordered a round of drinks for his guests.

"I assume you have everything?" Mr. Hood questioned, sipping his drink.

"Of course. Shall we do business?"

The two men exchanged what they had brought. Luke handed him a plastic bag. Mr. Hood slipped him a stack of cash.

Michael watched intently, studying the pairs every move, and feeling completely left out.

"Could I offer you a dance? On the house. I mean, after all the trouble, its the least I could do."

Luke accepted, much to Michael's dismay, and smirked as a red haired woman with fake breasts approached him. She winked at him, turning and practically shoving her ass in his face. She raised her arms up over her head and shook her hips, her ass jiggling.

Luke was an ass man, but he liked men's asses.

How could he tell this man no? He was afraid of upsetting him. Who knew what this man was capable of?

The girl straddled Luke's waist, her hot breath coasting down his neck. Luke closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the chair.

He was enjoying it. And Michael was pissed.

Luke would never hear the end of this.

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

"She was dry humping you!" Michael shouted, slamming the hotel door, "And you were enjoying it!"

Luke carelessly tossed his blazer to the floor, unbuttoning his shirt as he listened to Michael's excessive yelling.

"You.... I thought you loved me?" Michael whined, pulling back the duvet and collapsing dace first onto the bed.

Luke removed the hand gun from his trousers, leaving it on the oak dresser, and pulled down his trousers. As he kicked them off, he opened a bottle of Vicodine. He was becoming more and more addicted to them everyday. He swallowed two pills before turning to face the boy on the bed.

"You know I love you, Michael. If I didn't, would I have brought you here? To find the lights..."

Luke slowly approached the bed, sitting down on the edge and rubbing slow circles along Michael's back.

Michael was sobbing, his body racked. He sat up, wiping his nose on the back of his hand and looked to Luke with tear filled eyes.

"Its three am and all I want is your lips on mine," he mumbled, falling into Luke's embrace

Luke held the boy tight, toying with his soft locks.

"I love you. I love you," Luke whispered, kissing the older boy's face repeatedly, "I'll fetch a few bottles, yeah? We will have a party. Just the two of us."

Michael smiled at the thought of alcohol. He knew Luke loved to drink. He wasn't an alcoholic. No, alcoholic's admitted to having a problem. Luke, did not. But when Luke was drunk, he was intimate, and it had been a whole two days since Michael had gotten any. He thought he might die.

"I'd like that."

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It was extremely hard to write about the Palomino Club. Once again, that is a real place in Vegas, but it isn't directly on the strip.

There are many more clues to what Michael's addiction is. Any guesses?

Thoughts on Luke's pill usage?

The next chapter will likely contain smut. So, be ready for that. It will be detailed. It will also be kind of fillerish. It will mainly be the "party" Luke and Michael have.

COMMENT & VOTE!