All I Want (vulquinn)

Fools

May 24th, 1994 8:13 a.m.

The sun beams glow through the window illuminating the still room. Birds chirp outside and stirs a sleeping Sal. He takes a deep breath in as his sleepy state begins to wear away and his senses cone to life. When he breathes in, all he can smell is the lingering stench of alcohol from last night and the musky scent of Q embedded in his sheets. It felt colder in the bed and not as warm as he remembered it being last night when he was wrapped in Q's arms. When he opens his eyes all he sees the empty sheets bundled up next to where Q was resting the night before.

The night before... What even happened last night? Sal sat up in bed and felt his head rush at the sudden motion. His eyes synch closed and he holds his head in one of his hands as the throbbing pain of a hangover began to creep into his skull as well as the regrets of drinking as much as he did. While it was bad, he's had worse hangovers in his time, nothing that some Ibuprofen or Tylenol couldn't fix. As he walked to the bathroom to the medicine cabinet, the memories of the previous night began to trickle back to his head very vividly.

The movie plays in his head of Q kissing him roughly, holding him close to his body, hovering above him, dominating him, everything. Sal's eyes go wide in shock at his own set of memories because it all had felt too good to be true. If his memories were to be true, Q's sudden absence this morning would tie everything together to make more sense than it would with any other context. Q isn't one to just up and leave Sal's house for no reason without giving him prior knowledge or waking him up to say good bye. Sal drew mental conclusions and pieced together that he wasn't the only one to remember their intoxicated and quite passionate moment together.

But why did he run? Sal knew the obvious simple answer to this question: he wasn't ready to face the truth or the reality of what happened and shamefully walked out. But what he couldn't seem to pick apart and digest was the deeper meaning and reason. It's not surprising to Sal that Q felt lost in the mix of his emotions, it's not something easy to sort out especially after putting on a huge front of being a charmer to the ladies. Q couldn't even be bothered to sort things out in the morning like he thought he would've, and that's the part that bothered Sal the most. He wanted clarity and gratification to their night together, he wanted to understand for once what was going on in Q's head and what exactly it all meant. Q was so abstract that he often felt more like a thought than an idea and it was frustrating trying to understand him and why he does what he does. Was it all really the alcohol talking or was this his deep dark desire that surfaced?

Sal popped a pill into his mouth and swallowed hard and felt as it travelled down his esophagus and he prayed in his head that it would kick in soon and soothe the ache in his head. He closes the medicine cabinet to be met with his reflection, he knew it was him, he knew who he was, and he was okay with it. Sal was comfortable in his skin, with the face that stared back at him, and his identity in every sense of the word.

"But can you look in the mirror and say the same, Quinn?" He thinks to himself as he stares into the mirror. He shakes his head, eyes dropping down to the sink as he continues to clean himself up. "Maybe I should call him, see if he's okay." It was a mere excuse to call the other boy, he knew what his true intentions were with this call and he wanted answers to help solve the mystery of them.

Sal goes to the phone and dials in the number he's long memorized and sat silently with the phone pressed up against his ear. The ringing echoed as he waits for his friend to pick up.

On the receiving end of the line, Q was sat in bed at home with his eyes closed trying hard not to concentrate on the pounding in his head that lingered. He tried crawling back into bed and sleeping, but something kept him from the peace he sought. His overactive mind kept racing and showed no signs of stopping. His phone rings and the sound bounces off the walls of his room and the walls of his skull. He leans over and answers it.