Handcuffed

chapter 11

— I can't believe you prefer Sebastian over me.
Simon kept insisting.

— Get the fuck over it.
David kept rolling his eyes.

— Is he better looking than me? —Simon pointed to himself. As Benny was watching him, he saw him questioning.

— Sebastian is very handsome —Benny shrugged.

Simon looked away. He was outraged. Never in that damned game of to snog, pushing off a cliff and to marry, he had been the choice to push off a cliff. 
Until David showed up in his life.

Benny — Marry
Sebastian — Snog
Simon — Push of a cliff

— Shit, you guys are saying.

— There's a music festival downtown —Benny said—. Tomorrow's Friday, I was wondering if we could go?

— Sure, Benny. We'll be there.

Benny nods and waves goodbye, getting into the car where his father was waiting to go home.

— We'll be? Sounds like a pack to me.

— I don't care what you think, we're going.

They went to David's car and went straight home. Since they had been up very early, they decided to take a nap. It was hotter that day, so it was a relief to turn on the air conditioning in the room and the slight buzzing sound it made was a lullaby to them.

They both slept in the bed for two hours, until Julie knocked on the door.

— Someone's looking for you, Simon, —she said from the other side.

Grunting and yawning, the two boys went down to the first floor and opened the door, discovering a tall boy, even taller than David.

— Simon! —the boy smiled from ear to ear and hugged the named one—. Finally we meet, damn it!

— Mike —Simon shared the same cheerful gesture as the tall boy—. What's up, huh?

— We've been looking for you all fucking week, —Mike laughed and David blinked. David couldn't find the humor in what he had said. This is what he had woken up for?—. We had to ask Sebastian, right guys?

Mike turned back. About five guys were inside the trunk of a black single-cabin pickup. When they heard Mike, they exclaimed affirmatively and energetically, the heavy-duty car shaking slightly from their movements.

— We went out to hang out?

— Let's.

Simon moved, but a jerk stopped him.

— What?

David said no with a dark look.

— That's not fair, David. Tomorrow we're going with Benny to that damn festival.

That usual look who-dominates-who is taking over when...

Mike touches the handcuffs, making them laugh, he himself chuckling too— funny.

David took a significant look at his unavoidable partner for four days—. Is he drunk?

Simon holds his stomach with his silver-free hand, laughing despite David's seriousness. Moments later, he said— nope, he's like that.

— I'm driving.

— Does he drive?

Mike walks over to the Ford pickup. Simon follows with a large smile and so does David.

David opened his eyes wide when Mike actually got into the driver's seat.

— Yeah. He's driving, David.

— You've got to be fucking kidding me.

Then Simon rests one foot on the grey supporter at the back of the pickup and pushes himself up into the human sardine can which was the trunk. David had to do exactly the same thing, his will between wanting to cut off his hand and running away or shooting himself right there.

The boys who were already on trunk welcomed Simon with nicknames and insults, the bad guy doing the same.

Simon easily found a place to be. Right at the bottom left, his back leaning on the corner and his arms resting on the edges. Simon stared with his one eye, from down, at David standing, his thin lips trembling, wanting to giggle mockingly because there were so many arms and legs everywhere.

— There is no more space —David said, feeling the red embarrassment on his cheeks.

— You can't stand, —said someone else—. If you don't want to die, of course.

The pickup roared as its engine started and David swallowed his spit.

Simon tilted his head slightly to his right—. You can sit on my legs.

— No —David felt the Ford move slightly. He cursed—. Spread your fucking legs.

Those present were entertained, especially Simon, who raised his black eyebrows while his eyes glowed with amusement.

Simon did so, and David hurried to sit in the hollow of the V that Simon's legs made. He was particularly careful not to touch the denim pants or the chest behind his back.

David hugged his legs and shut his eyes when Mike sped up, praying to the God he didn't believe in that nothing bad would happen. His prayer was only halfhearted because some wide waves of a man's laughter hit the back of his head, reaching his ears.

— You're going to get hit if you don't get close.

— No way I'm moving closer to you, you fucking pirate.

— I warned you.

The boys in baggy clothes, mostly black, were singing at the top of their lungs some song that was heard from the cabin. Whether it was on purpose or not, Mike accelerated, even more, injecting more energy into the guys.

David feared for his life.
Simon was spending the time of his life.

Although the speed boost didn't last long. Mike had to brake suddenly, making the tyres squeal, all the bodies thanks to the blessed inertia, move forward. But speaking specifically of David, he would have shot into the cockpit. He would have. Someone saved him.

Simon reacted instantly, grabbing his waist hard. When the abrupt movement was over, David's back ended completely in Simon's chest.

David didn't hear the thundering laughter of the gang, or the music, the same thing happened to Simon. Fear and adrenaline made his chests rise and fall quickly.

The one who saved David from being a sticker reacted first. He smiled, strangely happy.

— Who did you dream about? —Simon said, deep tone, against the back of the near-white neck. His hands still held David's waist.

David shivered.