Cultured Spirit

A/N: Have to post this quick! It’s really late and I’ve got work tomorrow… eck. It’s a bit short, but I hope it satisfies!

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“Shoot!”

The buzz of twenty surrounding machines entwined with the sharp beeps and vibrations of Daniel’s favourite game. His hand was wrapped around a worn joystick as his nose traveled forward slowly, almost pressing against the glass of the screen. Ian had to wonder how he could stare that closely at the flashing images for so long without going into constant seizures.

Of course, Ian couldn’t help but laugh when the two dimensional character fell to the ground in a bloody mess and Daniel bashed one of the neon-green buttons weakly in dismay.

“Shoot!” He repeated, his face pulling into a disappointed frown as he turned to Ian who, try as he might, could not pull off any expression resembling sympathy. “That was your fault,” Daniel wrinkled his nose and finally spun his chair to climb off.

Managing to look incredulous, Ian grabbed his last few tokens off the plastic surface and steered Daniel’s elbow toward the side of the arcade he actually enjoyed. “Sure it was. Maybe you should try to find D.R.L and ask him for some pointers.” The high scores list was forever tainted with “D.R.L’s” impossible score of two hundred thousand points, as Daniel had endlessly gone on about earlier.

“He’d be more fun around here than you!” Daniel protested. They had gone back and forth between the arcade walls, spending half their time at Daniel’s choice of action adventure and the other half pleasing Ian with legendary car-racing.

In all honesty, Ian didn’t really mind the action adventure games. He only insisted on car racing because Daniel wasn’t very good and that seemed to send the boy into a spluttering pile of disbelieving limbs.

“Only a few tokens left,” Ian said airily, clinking two of his together as he looked for an empty booth. It was relatively easy seeing as how most teenagers were in school.

He chose one a bit isolated in the corner, settling into the deep seat. It was shaped like an overdone racecar and offered them enough privacy to talk without being overheard – not that anyone was likely to eavesdrop on two teenagers conversing when they were busy playing DDR. Daniel sidled in next to him, toffee-coloured eyes wide and apprehensive.

“Why did you pick this one? You know I’m horrible at this one,” he muttered and gripped onto the steering wheel.

Ian had come to notice that his companion had a habit of rolling up his sleeves to his elbows and tucking his fringe behind his ear whenever he was about to start a new game. It was hilarious that Daniel was so concentrated.

“Yes I do.” Ian grinned.

As if on cue, Daniel rolled up his knit sleeves before fidgeting with the steering wheel. “You should be afraid; I’m a quick learner.”

It was true. Daniel had almost managed to beat him, but Ian was too experienced. The loud intro music blared into their tiny booth after the race ended and the screen flashed obnoxiously, pleading for more coins. Even though it had been close, Ian smirked and leaned back lazily on his arms against the plastic, curved wall behind him.

“And Ian Hadley races across the finish line, leaving a horribly pissed Kirk straggling three meters away. The crowd goes wild!”

“Kirk?” At first, Daniel thought it was a horrible and random nickname, and then he tilted his head to one side. “Ah.”

Unnerved by the understanding on Daniel’s face, Ian stole the smaller boy’s last few coins and shoved them inside the machine. The corny music stopped and was replaced by gruff voices insulting each other. “Up for some more ownage?”

Daniel’s firstly outraged expression due to Ian stealing his last tokens was replaced by a bewildered look which then morphed into laughter. It was a soft noise, one that shook the entire boy’s slender frame, his striped sleeves falling from their tense position on his elbows.

“Ownage?” He repeated.

Ian gave a crooked smile in response and chose the sleek, orange Audi R8. “You heard, Dragon Slayer.”

Daniel snorted, a small smile still curving his lips at how outrageous game slang sounded coming from the jock.

After losing the second game, Daniel was looking exceptionally put-out and Ian, in contrast, was beaming. Half way through the game, which had turned out to be horribly intense, they had made a bet. At the time, Daniel had been winning and so he arrogantly set the stakes pretty high.

“I can’t!” Daniel leaned his arms on the steering wheel defiantly. “I will definitely not go to one of those ridiculous parties.” His light brown eyebrows were creased worriedly as he stared at the screen. Images of flashing cars and beefy men reflected off his shining eyes.

“Don’t be a poor sport,” Ian said cruelly, a hint of smiling playing at the edges of his lips. He imagined a drunken Daniel, shirt rumpled and cheeks blotchy red from consumption and had to fight back a grin. He wondered if Daniel would be a promiscuous or broody drunk – or maybe something embarrassing like Derek who often stripped and was caught on film.

“Only if there’s no drinking or girls,” Daniel said stubbornly, his eyes still taking on that frightened, apprehensive look.

“What’s your definition of a party again?” Ian asked, rolling his eyes and shoving his feet onto the steering wheel. It was pretty cramped but he figured listening to Daniel protest called for a more comfortable position.

“I’m not going and you can’t make me.”

Ian’s eyes drifted to Daniel’s form and he laughed slightly at the hunched brunet. He was guardedly crossing his arms, chin in the air. His hazy eyelashes fluttered when he looked back down at Ian, scowling.

“Hey, man. You were gonna make me hit on Miss. Obese over there.” Ian vaguely gestured to the middle-aged woman who was intently playing the same game she had been for the last two hours.

Daniel looked upset at the nickname. “You’re so rude.”

Ian had a feeling that wasn’t just about the nickname. “It was a bet! You can’t go back on bets!”

“I so can.”

Turning his frame so he was looking down at Daniel, Ian shook his head. “Nope. I’ll drag you there myself. We might even manage to find you a girlfriend – for the night anyway.” He wasn’t serious; not really. Daniel was too innocent and fragile for anything like one night stands. Ian honestly thought he was too innocent and fragile for any type of sex really.

As expected, the smaller boy blushed. His face was enflamed and his arms dropped to his sides as he made a small effort to dislodge himself from the seat. Ian resisted his movements by grabbing his arm and pulling him back, the warm body crashing next to his own.

After a long pause where they stared hard at one another, Daniel’s gaze fell to the metal ground and he sighed loudly. “Fine.”

--

Ian had to admit that he wasn’t expecting Daniel to show. When he arrived at around nine, Jay’s house was already packed and he had a hell of a hard time finding Ryan. Finally catching sight of the unruly blond hair and layered shirts that was obviously his friend, he made his way over, having to pause several times to greet vaguely familiar people. One of them, though Ian didn’t realise it at first, was Daniel.

He swept past the willowy boy after a quick “Hey” and had to do a double take. It was surprising not only that Daniel had arrived earlier than himself, but also that he wasn’t wearing his geeky sweatervests. Instead, he was clad in dark jeans and a black hoodie that made his light brown hair and pale skin look striking in contrast.

With a wolfish grin, Ian slung his arm around the nervous boy and passed him his drink. “You’re early!”

Daniel sulked, his arms crossing to refuse the beverage. “Don’t remind me.”

“Hey, it’s fun. Admit it.” The smell of alcohol littered the air and Daniel grimaced.

“No. It’s not. I’m never going to the arcade with you again.” He was still sulking, though Ian had managed to make him hold onto a sloshing glass of vodka.

“Aw, come on.” The heady atmosphere had already begun to make Ian act a bit strangely and the now empty cup in his hands didn’t seem to be making the situation any better. For Daniel anyway. “Drink up, you’ll like it, I promise.”

It turned out that Daniel hated it. In fact, he hated it enough that he was puking it out in Jay’s bathroom not an hour later. Ian had the grace to look guilty as he spun toilet paper around his fingers, handing pieces off to the other boy periodically.

“I want to go home.”

Ian made a face and sat down on the bath tub, staring at Daniel’s bent form squarely. “I’m really sorry, Daniel.” His words were slurred, but he was certain he got the meaning across. He knew neither of them could drive and Ryan would never let Ian leave early. Something twisted in Ian’s gut when he thought of sending Daniel away by himself.

He pegged the feeling on his drunken stupor.

“Home,” Daniel insisted again, his face distorting before his nimble fingers tightened on the toilet seat and he bent his head over it again. Ian had to look away with a wince.

“’Kay,” Ian nodded, tumbling off the bathtub and reaching to flush the toilet. Though Daniel wanted nothing more than to curl up in his bed, his head hung over the seat immobilized.

“You actually like this feeling?” He murmured, sweaty and exhausted as he knelt next to Ian who was squatting on the floor and supported by the sink.

Ian smirked. Daniel was a responsible drunk – how typical. His shirt was rumpled, though, and his face flushed feverishly just as expected. “Sure do.”

Their legs were brushing against each other and Daniel’s brown hair was slick with sweat. Ian reached over and ran fingers through the disheveled fringe, before trailing them down to pale cheekbones.

Daniel’s glassy eyes widened and Ian heard a sharp intake of breath. His rough fingers traveled down to rosy, glistening lips and wiped off a bit of vomit with a grimace. “Sorry,” he whispered again, and he wasn’t sure if he was sorry for making Daniel down all the liquor or for the slow kiss that was being planted messily onto a mouth with lips parting in alarm.

The kiss seemed to relieve tension from every crevice of his body and Ian’s pent up longing released into the warm mouth against his. He exhaled loudly, shoving Daniel up against the sink and slipping his tongue past tender lips. When Ian’s tongue roughly grazed Daniel’s, the shorter boy finally responded and his slender arms wrapped tightly around Ian’s neck.

Ian wasn’t sure what he was expecting. The acidic taste of vomit wasn’t it, but neither was the warm, narrow waist pressing into him. He gasped slightly, short of oxygen after only a few brief seconds as if kissing was a new experience for him. Daniel was clumsy, breathing in sporadically against Ian’s chapped lips and making low, restrained, noises deep within his throat. The hot flesh of Daniel’s cheek against his chin as they curved against each other made Ian groan impatiently, and his hand crawled up the denim covering Daniel’s thigh.

The wandering hands, which soon swept under Daniel’s hoodie and beneath his shirt, caused the boy to redden and arch, effectively sending Ian into an uncontrolled frenzy. His foggy mind couldn’t seem to comprehend the wrongness of the situation – instead, it was hooked on Daniel’s flushed face and thick eyelashes which were fluttering as if unable to stay either completely open or shut closed.

Ian had almost managed to pull the hoodie off, his lips still latched selfishly onto the other boy’s in greedy suction, when Daniel made a pained noise close to a whimper. Ian’s hands stopped moving and instead gripped the pale skin in a needy way as he reluctantly pried his lips apart from Daniel’s.

The boy’s eyelashes fluttered for a few more seconds before he whimpered again and collapsed onto Ian’s shoulder with a soft grunt.

Surprised, a panting Ian tried in his best efforts to wake the smaller boy but to no avail. After a minute, his drunken and lusty mind got the best of him as well and he slid down the toilet bowl also unconscious, limbs tangled with Daniel’s and vomit descending down the shell of his ear.