Nick sat at a bar, looking into his empty shot glass. sighing heavily. The bartender, an obviously gay male, walked up, "another shot of whiskey?"
"Yeah..."
"What's gotcha down, handsome?" The bartender looked at him as he removed the conman's shot glass from the counter, pulling out juice glass. From the look on Nick's face, the bartender knew he needed it. The card shark looked up at the bartender, fighting back words. The bartender looked him deep in the eyes, his hazel orbs gazing into the jade green ones, sensing a sort of sorrow to the man even heavier than he had been letting on. The barkeep gave him a soft, comforting smile smile, "ya know... Sometimes the best kind of person to listen is a stranger, honey."
Nick dwelled on the thought of sharing what was bothering him with the man. The bartender placed the now three-fourths filled glass in front of him, twisting the cap back on the bottle of Jack, sensing the man was still reluctant.
"Well... If you wanna tell me about it, I'm just a notion away from you. Call me over when you're ready, handsome."
Nick nodded slowly as the bartender flashed that warm smile again before walking away to fill another person's drink. He grabbed the glass and carefully drank a little bit, swallowing the harsh liquid. He continued to dwell on his thoughts. His heart ached and from the looks of it, even his poker face couldn't conceal how he was feeling, knowing that he had fucked up bad. Worse than he had with his ex-wife and way worse than he had with his high school love. He downed the rest of the drink and flagged the bartender over again, who, with silence this time, filled his glass. He downed it before the barkeep could even walk away, slowly letting himself fall into the comforting arms of his drunken feeling. The barkeep filled his glass again.
"So you're willing to listen?" Nick asked softly, a soft slur to his words letting itself grow apparent.
"Well, it's part of the job. So of course I am..."
Nick took the drink and downed almost all of it before sighing, "Well... It started out..."
The older conman and the younger mechanic shared a bed in a decently sized room. Nick was up, the nightstand light turned on. He peered over his reading spectacles, jade eyes carefully scanning the page. Ellis turned in his sleep, his brow creasing slightly. Nightmares still stabbed at both of them, filling their sleep with frets of never seeing another living soul. Sure, the apocalypse had been managed two years prior, CEDA and their lousy asses some how taking care of the issue. Nick swore that if there was ever a God, he would have to thank the guy for not letting him, or Ellis for that matter, get torn open and destroyed limb from limb by the monstrosities that roamed the entire continent, possibly the entire world.
But there was still the nightmares. At first both men woke from a cold sweat each night, their hearts thudding violently in their chests, only to be greated by solemn silence of the quarantine room. When the CEDA doctors deemed them clear of infection, which took about a month, the two ended up shaking in a house together for one of CEDA's projects to bring back civilization. After that, the hick usually searched for comfort in the conman's arms, who protectively held him close. He'd come to close to losing the younger man before to Witches, Hunters and the whole shebang. No way in Hell was he going to lose the boy again. After the first few months, the nightmares settled to every few nights, giving both men the opportunity to rest with ease.
After the first year, the nightmares settled to about once every couple of months. It was their round about time to rear their ugly heads back up, for both men. So Nick sought out a book to avoid sleep, while Ellis laid next to him. That was just Nick's way of dealing with it. His body had grown used to the off sleeping patterns during the apocalypse. Lazily, he flipped to the next page before setting the book down on his chest and reaching toward the nightstand. He snatched his cigarettes and lighter from the wooden surface and opened the pack, grinning slightly at the sight of how many were left, quite proud of himself that he had cut down to only a couple a day.
The cardshark pulled one out and sparked the lighter, watching the flame dance before putting it to the tobacco-filled cylinder. He took a long craved first drag, the chemical-doused smoke filling his lungs. Ellis stirred in his sleep before letting out a startled gasp, his hands quickly grabbing for Nick, who rose his arm and let the mechanic's muscled arms wrap around his torso. Nick carefully rubbed the mechanic's back, showing the boy that he was still there to protect him from harm. After several minutes of dead silence, except for the faint sound of burning paper and tobacco, the southerner looked up at his lover, resting his chin on his chest.
"Nick... Ah gotta question..."
The northerner looked down at the boy over the rim of his glasses, cocking a brow slightly to show that he was listening. The hick let out a sigh and sat up, "how do yew deal wit all the nightmares?" Taken aback, Nick looked at him, putting himself in thought. He had never heard the mechanic speak of them in the two or three years that he knew him. Nick took a drag off of the cigarette and held it for two short seconds, exhaling heavily before finally answering.
"I just don't think about them, El. They don't haunt me as much as they used to so now I know for a fact that they're just illusions my mind set up," he answered quietly, his brow creased slightly from thinking of the subject at hand. He moved his arm to ash his cigarette.
"Buh... How can ya not think 'bout 'em, Nick? Sure, they migh' jus' be illusions an' such, but ain't they still scary? Tuh know ya might lose those yew care 'bout mos'... Ah mean... Ah cain't even begin to fathom the idea of what we got now, jus' like Ah cain't..." Ellis' words cut off as he lost his want to speak them. He pushed himself into a sitting position, his bare back pressed against the wooden headboard. He massaged his eyes with his forefinger and thumb before letting out a careful sigh. He glanced at the conman, who merely had a brow cocked in curiosity.
"Come on, Ellis... Tell me what's on your mind. Bury all your secrets with me," Nick muttered, taking another slow drag and holding it briefly before exhaling again. Ellis let out a soft sigh. He knew the conman despised displaying anything that had to do with the 'L' word, but it was how the mechanic felt. On the plus side, Nick seemed to be willing to hear it. Ellis let out a heavy sigh. It had been more than a couple of years, after all. He hadn't uttered the word in the entirety of the two knowing one another. He figured that the conman's thoughts were a little different at this point. He swallowed hard, a dry lump in the back of his throat. Nick dog-eared the book and set it down, "El... Come on, tell me... Please." The mechanic swallowed, knowing Nick rarely ever used that word. Dammit... Why do yew have to be so fuckin' convincin', Nick?
"Well... I cain't imagine myself withoutcha, Nick... Ah... Ah love yew..."
The northerner inhaled sharply, pulling his cigarette to his lips. The word. That damned word. It was like poison to him, the bane of his existence. He never understood how someone, whether it be Andrea, his ex-wife, Johnny, his high school boyfriend, Tristan, his trans male fuck toy, or Narissa, his trans female partner, could love him. It grew apparent that the only person who really understood how he worked was, in the end, him. He ran his fingers through his hair, which wasn't gelled back seeing is how the two of them were in bed. Once that word was uttered, rage flowed freely through his veins. Instantly, once Nick tensed up, Ellis did as well.
"If you love me so Goddamn much, Ellis, then learn to be able to let me go. I'm going to fucking die one of these days, whether it's cancer or a natural death. Fucking get used to it," the conman spat, tossing the blanket from over his legs and throwing them over the side, pushing himself out of bed. Almost as instant as the rage that filled him, a slight hint of regret lightly slathered itself on the burning anger and slowly melted in like butter on toast.
"Buh... Nick! Dammit! Why're yew so damn scareda hearin' that word?! It's jus' a word to explain a feelin'!" Ellis tried to retaliate, only making the jerking at his heartstrings that much more painful. Tears stung at his eyes as he reached out, grasping the conman's wrist, who tore away. Ellis quickly wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and choked out, "...Nick... Dun do this..."
"Goddammit, Ellis. Do what? You claim you fucking love me... Then just fucking let me go! Run the fuck away! Can't you fucking see that I just don't care?!" Nick's voice began to rise, causing the already breaking mechanic to flinch away from the rage. The regret as finally begun to settle, but he knew it was too late to take it back, so older man simply inhaled sharply and pointed at his chest before continuing, "there isn't anything HERE, Ellis. If you just fucking leave, you won't destroy me. Just leave me the fuck alone.
"Then, my loathing of the world won't matter to anyone but myself." The conman knew that those feelings weren't what he really felt. It was just an automatic defense mechanism that clicked in his brain after Johnny and Andrea both tore him open. He figured, if he couldn't be happy with either of his puppy-love interests, then he couldn't be happy with anyone. He interrupted Ellis, "I don't fucking deserve to have you, kid! Andrea and Johnny both took my smile long before you showed up. I'm more than fuckin' certain that I can't fuckin' change. And if I CAN, I sure as fuck hope I never know."
Somehow, though Ellis had been forcing them back with all his might, the tears managed to leak free, showing that he was obviously hurt. He recalled the simple little notes that the conman had sent to his cell when they were both kept in separate quarantine cells, telling him that everything would be alright. That they'd be free soon. That the mechanic could tell him just about anything, like he had on the long nights the two stayed up for watch. Were all those words lies? Ellis shook his head, not believing it, "yew know... When yer gone... Ah read them notes yew lef' fer me. The ones tha' the guards delivered to me daily... When Ah read 'em, Ah pray to Gawd that yew were righ', Nick.
"Ah pull 'em close 'cause Ah cain't kiss yew then and there and Ah jus' think of 'em bein' yew." Ellis was now standing as well, the only thing separating him from either pulling the conman into a tight hug or knocking him senseless was the bed. His entire body shook as he tried to control the amount of hurt that had just been stabbed into him. Nick was at the dresser, pulling out a pair of black dress slacks and a red button-down. The mechanic shuddered before continuing, "Ah never thought Ah could face this new life withoutcha, Nicolas. Buh now... Alluv that jus'... Alluv that was ripped apart when yew refused ta figh'."
"I refused to fight what, Ellis? What EXACTLY did I refuse to fight?!" Nick's voice stayed at a rather loud volume. That just right out made Ellis mad. The mixing of both the anger and sorrow stirred together, like Nick's screwdrivers when the two of them went out to the bar.
"Yew refused ta fight yer hatred of tha' damned word! It's jus' a fuckin' word, Nick! Love comes in all shapes an' colors an' sizes an' all that sheit! Buh no! Yew refuse ta fuckin' fight yer damned fear and admit how the fuck yew feel jus' because of some ol' high school love bird and yer damn ex-wife 'cause yew think Ah'll hurt ya like they did! Well guess what, Nick," Ellis finally yelled, bounding across the room to burn is anger into the card shark's eyes. Nick scoffed, taken aback by the mechanic's sudden mix of rage and hurt. The conman's jade orbs locked sight with the mechanic's baby blues.
"What, Ellis?!" He snapped.
"Are ya really that dumb, Nick?! I ain't them!" The mechanic scoffed before continuing, "not only tha' buh yew couldn't hate enough to love! Not one fuckin' bit! Is yer hate supposed to be enough?!" Tears still swelled up in the mechanic's eyes before as he shot his poisonious arrow-like words right into the gambler's heart. "... Jus' like unlike yew, Ah don't purposefully hurt mah friends..."
Nick growled low, "what the fuck is that supposed to mean, Ellis? Tell me now!" He demanded.
"It means Ah wish yew weren't mah friend so then Ah could hurt yew jus' like yew hurt me."
Nick felt a jerk as his pain strummed his heartstrings like a guitar. He narrowed his eyes and leered into Ellis', "I never claimed to be a saint, kid. Hell, my own was banished long, LONG ago." His features went back to the neutral look they usually bore, giving the mechanic his well-practiced poker face. Suddenly, Ellis knew the conman pulled up his shield seeing is how his eyes fogged up, metaphorically speaking of course, and showing him no truth, no nothing. The southerner blinked away his tears, knowing that they'd form back eventually. His hope of ever getting the conman to return his feelings shattered like a glass window. His body still shook with that agonizing heartbreak. He swallowed hard, letting Nick continue.
"So just go ahead and try to come in, kid. Break yourself against my stones. Hell, I pity you. You're trying too fucking hard."
"Yew pity ME?! Spit your pity in mah soul all yew want, Nick. Ah thought yew needed help getting over yer irrational bullshit fear. Who tha Hell was I kiddin' though, righ'? Yew never needed any help. Yew jus' sold me out to save yerself! Yer jus' gonna up an' run away like this? Yew're jus' like all them others, Nicolas!" Ellis spat, his heartbreak becoming that much more obvious with every word he said. Nick kept his poker face, but on the inside he was dying, just as much as he could obviously tell the mechanic was dying. The young hick swallowed hard, "Ah thought yew were mah angel, Nick..."
"Angels lie to keep control, Ellis. That's just how shit works. My love was punished long ago. That's just something that you're going to have to accept. I sure as fuck have," the gambler muttered, giving up on the fight. There was no point to it anymore. Both males attacked each other with poisonous words. In silence, the conman got dressed. He leaned against the wall to pull his socks on before walking to the closet and pulling out the black suit jacket. He pulled it on and headed right out the bedroom door, without looking over his shoulder to the mechanic, who was now on his knees sobbing into his hands. Nick stepped down the stairs and slipped his shoes on. Ellis cried out loud.
"If yew still care don't EVER let me know, Nick! Ever!"
The conman heard the metaphorical blood that oozed from the words and swallowed hard.
"If you still care don't ever let ME know, Ellis!" He hollered back up the carpeted steps. With that, he snatched his keys from the hook and stormed out of the house, walking to the Mustang. He unlocked the door and slid in the driver seat.
Ellis drowned in his heartache, fingernails clawing at his hairline.
"If yew still care don't ever let me know..."
Nick had his arms on the steering wheel, his keys in the ignition. He finally let himself break, sobbing softly. His fingernails dug into the leather steering wheel as his shoulders shook. After a few minutes of silent sobs, the conman raised his head and wiped his eyes.
"If you still care don't ever let me know..."
The barkeep took every detail of the drunken gambler's story in, nodding his head. The conman had gone through another three drinks of straight JD, the drunk feeling engulfing him whole. Thanks to the alcohol, Nick sobbed, beating himself up repeatedly. Gently, the bartender placed a hand on his shoulder, "what's this young man look like, handsome...?"
"'E's Caucasian but 'e's tanned... Curly, buh not too curly, brown hair... Gorgeous blue eyes..." Nick's words slurred. He raised his head, pointing near the bridge of his nose, "got a scar right 'ere..." The barkeep glanced at the door to the person who walked in before looking back to the conman.
"And you said his name is Ellis, right?" Nick nodded his head.
So he's the young guy you've come in here with before, huh? The barkeep looked to the remotely new face, smiling warmly.
"Now seems yourself to redeem yourself... And tell the truth to him, honey."
Nick pulled back, looking at the bartender with a taken back look to his drunken outlook. The words slowly sunk into the conman's mind, albeit rather slowly due to the intoxication, and looked to the door.
"...El...?"
