Chapter Twelve
Author: Keishi
BIG FAT WARNING:
Contains m/m relationships
ONLY read if you are of age and open-minded!!
Pausing at the threshold, the strange man ran a hand through Drayne's black bangs, cupping his cheek to kiss him lightly. "Want something to drink?" he asked stepping away into the kitchen.
Drayne hesitated at the door, looking around. Almost everything was hard for him to look at. Loud, primary colors that screamed at his eyes, tore at his senses. He looked down at the dark carpeted floor, pulling at the hem of his sweater with black-painted fingernails. "You know," he blurted down to the laughing floor, "I don't even know your name."
"You don't remember it?" The surprise in the stranger's voice caused him to squint up at him. He came around the small divider back into the living room and handed Drayne a bottle of beer. "My name's Chris, lovely," he said softly, running a finger along Drayne's jawline.
"Chris," Drayne repeated, memorizing, smiling back up at the brown-haired man nervously. Chris laced his hand with one of Drayne's and pulled him further into the blinding room.
"Come sit with me." The fingers were insistent and Drayne allowed himself to be manipulated until he was sitting on the worn blue couch. He took a long drink of his beer, hoping maybe it would calm his vision down and it wouldn't hurt so much to look around the room.
The shirt Chris was wearing was even causing him pain, a loud yellow that shrilled inside his head until his brain was numb. His eyes fixated on the screen printing in the center of it, a monkey from his childhood he couldn't place. He squinched his eyes shut. "Could you please take off your shirt?"
"Now we're talking," Chris said eagerly, shifting until he was closer to Drayne's huddled form. He obligingly pulled his shirt above his head and snaked an arm around Drayne's thin shoulders, bringing him flush against him. The beers were forgotten on the coffee table in front of them. His mouth was hot as he claimed Drayne's, pushing his tongue through slack lips.
Drayne relaxed into the couch cushions, letting himself be kissed and pretending it was who it wasn't. His arms came up to touch unfamiliar flesh, fingertips tracing strange muscles through stranger skin. Chris moaned, liquid and feline, as he broke the kiss. "That lip ring of yours is causing a problem in my pants."
Drayne's eyes opened. "Want me to take it out?"
"No way," Chris groaned, shifting his weight until he was fully on top of Drayne. Drayne tried to remember when he had lain down on the couch, but Chris' mouth on his neck distracted him again. Letting out a tiny moan of his own, he stretched it into one long, pilferable column, really liking the way his tongue lapped at his Adam's apple. Soon he found his sweater and undershirt being ripped over his head, and the heat from Chris' bare chest warmed his own pale, thin one.
Drawing Drayne's bottom lip into his mouth, Chris sucked on it gently while one of his hands traveled down his chest and stomach to the waistband of Drayne's pants. He toyed with the button before slipping a finger inside to open it. Drayne's hand on his wrist stalled him, as he broke the kiss. "No," Drayne said, looking at him with a quiet intensity.
Chris groaned, unconsciously rubbing himself into the couch beneath him. "But you're so fuckable," he breathed into Drayne's neck. "God, that lip ring! I've never been with anyone who had one before!" Raising himself up, he stared down at Drayne for a second. "Unless..."
"What?"
"I've got a better idea." Standing in front of Drayne in his loud, primary-colored apartment, he grinned down at the paler boy. His hands moved, almost in slow motion, to the button of his pants. Drayne's eyes followed his movements, taking in the strained bulge in front of his face as he sat up. The zipper slid down agonizingly slow. Drayne's hand began sweating, all the beer he'd drank threatening to come back up his esophagus. He watched in morbid fascination as Chris' hand slipped inside his pants.
And there it was. Long and thick, throbbing and red; an angry red that seemed to mock Drayne where he sat glued to the couch. Fingers held it out at the base, from where it jutted out of a nest of brown curls. The demanding quality of it, of the situation as it was held to his lips, made Drayne's stomach flip. Suddenly, he was sicker than he ever remembered being before.
Tripping off of the couch, Drayne pushed Chris weakly away and grabbed his sweater, forgetting his shirt entirely. "I'm sorry," he managed as he stumbled to the door. He couldn't even look at Chris as he wrenched the door open; he was too afraid of what he would see. "I'm so sorry."
*
The night air greeted his bare skin with a chilled caress, making him shiver. Stepping away from Chris' bright red door, he pulled on his sweater and breathed a sigh of relief. The material scratched against his skin, reminding him of Gade and making his heart hurt. He couldn't believe what he had almost done, could have done, without a thought to Gade and his feelings.
Colors had never hurt him so much before.
The city's bright lights invaded his vision, unforgiving in their starkness. He looked around himself, at the strange street that lay before him. He had no idea where he was, or how he could get to somewhere he knew.
Flipping open his cell phone, he began scrolling through the list of names when he felt a hand grab his wrist, another slapping over his mouth. "Don't move," a low, completely unfamiliar voice growled into his ear. His eyes widened and a scream bubbled at the back of his throat as he was forced into a darkened alley.
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