Psynthetic

“Here, have a cigarette, doll,” Emmet said, nearly shoving the thing down Bryan’s small throat before he could say “I don’t smoke cigaret—“, and he took it like a threat, holding the thing between thumb and index finger and dragging awkwardly. He gagged and coughed off of it and Emmet found annoying. Like the queen B, he held his head high like royalty, crossing his skinny jeans so the bulge of his crotch grew bigger. Bryan had to give it to him, he pulled it off. A man possibly a day over 25, or so.

“Have you ever heard a death rattle before, Jude?” he asks.

“A death rattle? No.” Bryan said. He shook his head at this, and Emmet scoffed, throwing a hand into the air to bat it. “A terrible shame, darling, you really have to see that movie.”

Bryan quirked a brow and smiled, letting go a small laugh that couldn’t be heard under the techno.

“So!” Emmet said after a shot. “What brings you to the Red District this hour?”

Bryan paused, the hot club music filling between them. “Just.. out for some serious ass..” Bryan started, then didn’t stop. “..if you know what I mean.” He offered a grin.

Emmet stared at him for awhile, a smirk crossing his pink lips. And he laughed, a snide laugh Bryan soon became addicted to.

“I’d like to see you get any in that drowned out ‘high school dropout from loserfield’ get-up.”

And Bryan laughed, his laughter competing over the music. He couldn’t tear that grin away.

“Then teach me the ways, Emmet. How could I ever be more appealing?”

“Look here, I’m fabulous, but I’m not a miracle worker, babes.”

“Don’t call me babes, Darling. It would never suit me.” Bryan grinned again.

"You’re good at that,” Emmet said with surprise. With surprise within himself and grinned again.

“At what? Being Fabulous?

Now Emmet grinned. “Take me under your wing,” Bryan said. “You wouldn’t regret it.”

Emmet set down his ‘orgasm of the beach’, putting one arm on his side. “Sorry, but uhh. I work alone. More than anything, you should owe me something for getting you in..”

Bryan perked up. “ Oh, I can do that.” He said leaning over, face first into the man’s crotch with a swift and nimble hand. Click, Pop, Zip.

The young man had his pants down and Dog out, wagging slightly next to a hot steaming mouth. Emmet gasped, leaning back hard on the bar side, shocked more than anything at how quick it all was. He shoved Bryan’s head away zipping his lower regions away from the uninterested crowd.

“Bryan! What the hell!” He tried to compose himself while Bryan was trying to contain himself. He howled with laughter, which only seemed to spoil

Emmet’s mood further. He stood and walked away, almost in the manner of a hurt schoolgirl into the thick mobs and away from Bryan.

“‘Bryan’?” Bryan called. He thought his name was Jude.

That was the last time he saw the man from the club, but Bryan wasn’t going to forget about becoming Emmet’s right hand man. There he stood on the corner of 4th and Sycamore. Waiting. Watching.

Across the street was a tall, skinny red apartment , six or seven blocks away from the Red District. He watched the lobby door closely, fidgeting in the cold, vaguely watching for police cars.

Why was he waiting and watching?

Well, last night after Emmet had left, he snagged his number off a drunken “friend” of the man and went home. His parents wouldn’t notice him gone.
And if they did, he was sure they wouldn’t care. Ingrates.

Bryan caught sight of eye popping neon pink at the entrance to the tall skinny apartment, and quickly found it to be Emmet.

The man was smoking and holding a black, blowing blooms of smoke into the air while simultaneously being bitched out by a man who appeared to be the owner, yelling at the man in a rusty English about the smoking indoors, but Emmet ignored him.

Bryan quickly went over to greet him, but Emmet seemed a little uneasy in seeing the boy again.

“Do I know you?” Emmet said, looking over the rim of his shades at oncoming traffic.

“Of course, you do. It is I; Jude, the drug child, at your service.” Bryan smiled, but Emmet frowned.

“Ah, Jude, what brings you here to annoy me this morning?”

“Well, you need to take responsibility,” Bryan said.

Emmet paused for a moment, leaning over cockily with an old queen’s strut. “Responsibility for what, may I ask?”

“..For making me fall for you.” Bryan said at the end of a beat. Emmet scoffed.

“You have got to be joking..”

“And the only way you can take responsibility is by letting me.. indulge on your best features.. if you will.”

Emmet seemed a little taken aback by this, but he couldn’t say he didn’t like it.

“…I’ll see what I can do.”

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Please R&R! I think I'm getting better in the plot department and I think I might have something running here. Ha, well new chapter when I can. soon it gets steamy~ :]