Motorcycles and Lies (Anxceit)

Dirty Town

    Virgil snapped his heel back against the kickstand of his motorcycle, it hitting the belly of the bike with a satisfying snap!. The engine roared to life as he started down the street, an object flying by his head, his hair wisping from the movement. Virgil blocked out the noises and drove far from his home and into the city, the edges of it still being in the same school district as him.

     He entered an alleyway, walking his bike along, rather than riding it and upsetting the neighborhood with the loud, rumbling noises. He looked up the side of a large house before going back to his phone, fingers typing out a text to Janus. He waited, the moonlight stars barely visible through the city’s smoke-filled air. He heard footsteps from nearby, his head whipping in that direction. He spotted a familiar black and yellow figure, the yellow standing out in the low light of the alley.

    He waved his hand lazily in the air, “Hey.”

    Janus returned the greeting and came within a few feet of Virgil, “C’mon.”

    Virgil listened and followed, heading in by a back entrance. Janus led him up a couple flights of stairs, landing on the 3rd floor as they talked quietly. A few months had passed since their first encounter and the two had slowly opened up to one another, a gentle friendship of sorts. They both had their secrets, Janus not letting Virgil meet his parents or whoever lived in the same house as him and Virgil not revealing anything to do about his home life.

    They walked into a room; Janus’s. Virgil made himself at home on the plush velvet armchair in the corner, looking around the already familiar room. The walls were a pastel yellow with contrasting black and red trim. The walls were littered with posters and one wall containing a display of CDs and records. The furniture was either dark wood or black with the bedside table holding a record player and overflowing with far too many empty water bottles. His bathroom was much the same aesthetic, the theme flowing into the decorated closet, even.

    Janus sat in the adjacent chair, moving a few of the red pillows aside to make more room.

    “Have you seen the new kid? He’s in my English, and he’s fine as hell.”

    Janus laughed and shook his head, “Yeah, he’s in my math class, but he’s not that cute.”

Virgil gave him a look of suspicion before Janus rolled his eyes, “Fine, okay, he’s cute.”

The taller one finally flipped his hood off of his dyed hair, smiling more than usual, “Have you seen his eyes? He has heterochromia!” Janus bit the inside of his lip nervously and nodded along.

    “What, you think that’s hot?” Janus joked, “I think it’s kind of cliché.”

    “It’s cliché for a reason, right? Do you have something against it?” Virgil leaned forward towards Janus, who swallowed down a load of spit. “No, in fact, follow me.”

    Janus stood from the chair, looking down at Virgil expectantly. Virgil took the hint and stood as well. Janus walked out of the room, Virgil followed, taking the time to admire the large snake patch on the back of his jacket. The shorter walked into a room a few doors down, the tables and cabinets reminding Virgil of a lab. He started to wander off, looking at all the equipment while Janus did his own thing. He inspected a scalpel, the edge containing some rust. He felt a presence behind him, and, assuming it was Janus, didn’t bother to look. He stood up, coming face to face with two different colored eyes.

    “Oh!” he exclaimed, taking a moment to realize it was Janus.

    “Oh? Do...do you not like it?” He began to put his contact in over his yellow-green eye. The contact matched the other eye, a gentle golden brown.

    Virgil grabbed his arm gently, “No, no, it just is different. Is that why you were so defensive before?” His voice softened, earning him just a nod in return. They paused for a moment, Virgil leaning casually against the table, wary of any trays or knives.

    Janus took a step back and went over to where he was before, using the mirror to re-insert his contacts. The peaceful silence was all too soon broken by the loud thump and the clattering of metal to the linoleum floor. Virgil ducked down, fearing something would come and hit his head. He shook, memories flying back to him. He peeked over to the side of the table, just in time to see two men over by where Janus just was. He scrambled back to his spot, managing to hide in one of the cabinets with ease due to his unusually thin stature. Virgil waited it out, calming his breathing by fidgeting with the hair tie on his wrist, occasionally snapping it quietly. When the noise had quieted down, Virgil slipped out of the cabinets, the glassware clinking behind him and making him flinch. He looked at where Janus was before and nearly gasped in horror. He was near asleep, trying to get up but finding it difficult in his weakened state.

    “Janus? What happened?” Virgil asked,

    Janus hid behind his sweatshirt, hiding his face, “Go, I’ll find help, but you can’t be seen here. You can escape through the window in my room, I’ll get myself help.” He fell back to his knees, and, holding back words of protest, Virgil left.

    He snuck out the window, his shaking never subsiding. He landed on the ground, his feet and hands aching from overuse, the callouses on his fingertips red and raw from the brick building’s sharp corners. Virgil heard voices from nearby and dove behind a trash bin to finally process what had just happened.

A/N

Question of the day cause I'm curious: What's your favorite SS ship and one you can't stand? :)