Suicide Kings a.k.a. Rebels of the Reckless is unbetaed at this time.
Already suffering from a stale buzz of frustration, Brian stumbles into Woody’s and makes his way over to the bar lacking any type of grace. Feeling the need to continue drowning himself in alcohol, drugs, and sex- in whatever order that presented itself first, Brian searches the light crowd as though he is expecting someone to be here, but, like last night and night before- for weeks now, he doesn’t find who he is looking for. He lets out a low irritated grumble of a coughing sigh as he stares down the dark haired bartender waiting impatiently for service.
“I know it is none of my business, but I think you should take it easy tonight,” the bartender tells Brian with concern as he approaches him. He has watched the King of Liberty fall into a continuing descent of a self-destructive path by getting wasted just about every night and fucking almost anything that moves these days which was what he was known for; but lately, Brian has hardly been sober more a couple hours, and his body is taking quite a toll for it. In fact, Brian is starting to look like shit these days as Brian has let his guard down about how he looks.
Rubbing his chin letting his three day old beard scrap underneath his nails, Brian ponders for a moment as though he is letting what the bartender said sink in and replies, “You’re right, Reese.” He breaks into a smug smirk. “It’s none of your business. Now get me my usual and keep them coming.”
With a guilty conscience, Reese shakes his head and does what Brian commands.
Brian instantly throws back first two shots without tasting them; the only evidence of them is burning trail down his throat which he finds somewhat pleasing. He lets the third shot breathe air as he plays with bowl of nuts deciding who will be his first fuck of the night.
Couples. Woody’s is infested with a small crowd of couples, and Brian lets out a short snort of disgusted at the other customers. With all the googly eyes, romantic jesters, and baby talk, Brian receives nauseating cramp which twists into a knot within him. He has no idea how he going to keep anything down with these public exhibits of affection for their significant other. Letting out a whiney grunt, Brian pulls a small bottle out of his jacket and snorts some white power up his right nostril before turning back to his shot.
A blond haired young man enters Woody’s. He is nervous but too distorted to care walking on a thin line of a complete breakdown. With his chin up high, he moves quickly to the opposite end of the bar from Brian who oblivious to his presence.
When Brian turns back around, a copper muscle tone brunette strolls his way to the bar and makes short eye contact with Brian. Brian gives a short grin of satisfaction to himself. “He’ll do,” he mumbles careless under batter breath as he appears down to inhale his next shot waiting for the trick to make his move, but the trick doesn’t. Brian feels the air current continuing pass to him, and he whips around to an almost full 180 degrees to find his trick making his way to a young twink who Reese is talking to. Anger fills Brian’s veins for being passed up for some chicken, it is insulting. But then, blond tilts his head in Brian’s direction as the trick asks the blond something and his rage sobers into awe as he studies the twink. His straw like hair with stains of old bright highlights loom over his forehead making a parted curtain to his stone colored glassily eyes that bore into never ending emptiness pit which Brian falls into as blond’s eyes shifts onto his dark hazel nut ones.
The angel of death isn’t Brian type, not by a long shot. Brian didn’t go for young, porcelain, deer-eyed, blond twinkies. In fact, he found them a complete turn off, but the moment that their eyes met Brian felt the world had stop around them. The young man seems to be pure reflection of how Brian’s feels; a hopelessly lost, suffocating bitter depression that carries heavy in his features. The blond holds their eye lock for only a few seconds, but it feels like eternity to Brian.
The trick asks to buy the blond a drink which he takes up on, but Reese refuses to get. The trick threatens Reese, but the bartender is unmoved. Brian slathers over to them intrigged by the situation unfolding in front of him and in a trance by the blond.
“What the fuck is going on here?" Brian asks the blond, but the trick answers.
“The bartender is a dick!” the trick fuels.
“He’s under age,” Reese snaps.
Brian turns to the trick. “Fuck off!”
“What?!”
“I said FUCK OFF!”
“But...” Brian eyes the trick hard.
“Fuck you!” he splits as he departs.
“Too late,” Brian bites back, taking his seat next to blond. “Now where are those drinks,” he inquires.
“Brian, he is under age.”
“So what’s your fucking point?” Brian cocks an eyebrow.
“I can’t service a minor,” he says in a dead serious tone.
“Fine, service me then. I’m thirsty. Now get me my fucking drinks,” Brian demands slapping a few bills on the bar.
Reese studies the bills as though he was in a great debate with himself.
“Today, Reese,” Brian barks, and Reese takes the money before heading to fetch the order.
Brian looks over at the blond who seems to have zone out at some point lost in his own world. He snaps Justin back to the present as he brushes his hand against his removing the lingering cigarette between his fingers.
Justin watches the movement of burning stick glowing embers disburse with each tap against the ash tray. It is sight pure beauty to him as the sparks fight to the death. It seems hopeless, and it is. No matter how tough and hard they fight; they die into black dust of nothing- just like everything else, because everything dies. There is nothing you can do about, and Justin ponders the point of all of it. Why let something live and grow? Why fight to keep it going? Why salt the wounds? It will all end the same with death and ashes. It made no sense, and it started to give Justin a headache to think about it.
The hand creeps with easy as the man next to Justin brings the cigarette over his black covered chest with a leather jacket hovering at the sides, light tan neck, shaggy chin and up to his coral colored lips. Justin continues to take in each detail of each movement as Brian kisses the stick with a soft exotic passion. Burning glow grows bright as he sucks the life from it. His chest rises as the toxic fumes wash through him until he removes the cigarette inches away from himself. Gray silky smoke seeps down over his lip from his two nostrils as his chest falls. The act reminds Justin of a waterfall. When the smoke fades into nothing, Justin guides his eye upwards, pass his solid cheek structure and heavy dark half circles linger below eyes, leaving them on dirty brown orbs.
Brian who was amused by entertaining the blond for a few seconds didn’t know what to make of the icy glare the young man is giving him. Despite the bitterness, he found a little comfort in just having his full attention.
“So did you scare off Jared?” he asks somewhat annoyed.
“Who?” Brian raises an eyebrow in moment of confusion.
“The guy who was trying to flirt with me before you decided to grace me with your present,” he answers flatly.
“Oh, well, I thought he was bothering you so I ask him to leave.”
Justin sighs, “You mean you asked him to leave because he was bothering you.”
Brian shrugs with a playful smirk, and Justin frowns.
“Are you done?” Justin questions.
Brian forces his eyebrows together.
“Because I would like my cigarette back. It’s my last one,” Justin states in sadness.
Brian glances at the half burned Marbo wedge in between his fingers and then at Justin. Bringing hand midway between them, Brian stops. Justin reaches out for it as Brian pulls back a bit teasing him. Justin gives Brian a dirty look.
Reese returns with two Sam Adams and places them in front of Brian. Justin uses the distraction to his advantage by rescuing his cigarette.
“If Buddy finds out about this, it’s your ass,” Reese grunts bitterly.
“Love you too, Reese,” Brian says condescendingly.
“Love is bullshit,” Justin mumbles shortly with venom to no one.
“Ah, what do you know Brian Kinney has meet his equal,” Reese chuckles dryly as he leaves the two to wait on another customer.
“So you’re great Brian Kinney,” Justin says dripped in disappointment, but still intrigued as he eyes rugged handsome man beside him. He has heard all about the Stud of Liberty Avenue and his one fuck policies.
“Well, I prefer Brian Fucking Kinney myself,” he exclaims with a cheek and tongue smirk earning a weak smile and short snort from the blond.
“Aren’t you too old to be still fucking around?” Justin mocks as he exhales.
“Isn’t passed your bedtime?” Brian snaps back. “I’m sure Mommy and Daddy is worried sick about their baby boy.”
“I’m nineteen, almost twenty,” Justin snips. “Besides my parents disown their gay son a while back,” he explains covered in regret then begins examining paint under his finger nails.
Brian answers by simply pushing one of the beers in front of the blond.
Justin shoots a questionable look towards Brian, and Brian just puts his attention on his beer.
After a moment, Justin mumbles, “Thanks,” and sips on his beer.
Brian is first to break the silence falls among the two. “So trouble in paradise I take it.”
“Huh?”
Brian reaches taps the gold ring on Justin’s hand. Justin’s breathe catches in throat and fights the begging tears to fall. He had forgotten about the ring. The proof of the promise Ethan had made to him. It was joke now. He wonders if he ever meant any of it. Couldn’t have or it would have been so easy to destroy it. He can’t believe all the sacrifices he made for him. Justin even defied his parents by as a result of it he was thrown out to live his gay disgusting lifestyle with what he thought was the love of life. If it wasn’t bad enough that lover had cheated, his best and only friend... How could she do such a thing? And how could both do this to him? Why does everyone he loves end up betraying him? Yes, love is a joke, and he wants no more of it. He angrily confesses, “I don’t want to talk about.”
“Good, because I really don’t want to hear it,” Brian remarks, mostly honest. “Love is for the breeders anyway.”
“And they can keep it.”
Justin wants to forget, to stop thinking about it all. He wants to get lost in a good feeling for while, for minute, for a second. He decides Brian is his answer. Justin leans into Brian pressing his lips hard against Brian’s surprising the older man. When he pulls away, he gasps, “So are we going to fuck or what?”