Love made a bet with Death: he bet that he could for twelve hours keep the Grim Reaper from killing two of the victims on his list. If he did, they'd both be spared.
Said victims were Evan Lewis and Rory, who's last name escapes the writer, wrongful survivors of the car pileup wrongly hadn't been in.
***
It was well past midnight, and blonde little Evan was happy as a clam: he was driving to a party in his flashy new car, wearing his flashy new clothes, and waking up any poor soul that might have been sleeping within a hundred metre radius thanks to the deafening music he played from his flashy new loudspeakers. Little did he know, in his imbecilic youthful bliss, that Death had a plan in store for him…
The place he was going to was, obviously, a night-club. It had one of those ridiculous night-club names, and was decorated accordingly: dim lights, deafening music that drowned out any sound within miles, and a colour scheme that seemed to be riding the fine line between tacky and epileptic.
"Mr. Lewis…"
"Good to see you here again!"
The security people already knew him; the girls in the club when he got in almost immediately fawned to him. There was something about his demeanour that skilfully combined the tastelessness of a rapper with the cocky vanity of an Abercrombie boy. Yet in this Pandemonium, our beautiful blonde Beau Brummel, with an elaborate cocktail of alcoholic drinks in one hand, and some random girl in the other, saw a familiar face that for a moment set him wondering.
The boy was about his age. He was sitting with some friends of his, catcalling random girls; tall, tanned, definitely muscular, with longish brown hair and a laissez-faire look of charming idiocy, Evan was sure he'd seen him somewhere.
And sure enough, when he saw Evan, the other boy immediately recognized him:
"Hey," he yelled over the deafening beat of the music "You're the guy from that car-crash we didn't crash in, aren't you?"
Then Evan remembered:
"Oh yeah!" he exclaimed "That's where I knew you from!"
"Name's Rory"
"Evan!"
***
The night was very advanced. In the dark, flashing frenzy of the disco, the music was playing louder than ever. By now, Rory's friends and Evan's escort were gone, and they were sitting together, somewhat dazed by the spirits, yelling dirty stuff at various girls and laughing like mad.
"You see the rack on that one, dude?"
"I'd totally hit that…"
Yet while this was going on, Death was advancing his first plan of the day.
"Hey waiter!" cried out Evan, in his cocky tone "One more Bloody Mary!"
The waiter rolled his eyes.
"Why do you have to be so mean, dude?" said Rory.
"Hey…" said Evan "I've got the money, I pay!"
Rory laughed, and punched him playfully on the shoulder.
"All you did was win the lottery!"
"F*ck yeah, I did!" said Evan "And I can do whatever I want with it! This is the land of opportunity, Goddamn it!"
They laughed again; then, there was a brief pause
"You know," said Rory "Maybe we should take the economics discussion outside? I'm starting to get tired of all this noise!"
"You kidding, man?"
"No!" he said "Besides, I need some fresh air!"
Evan thought for a moment.
"Good," he said "Then let's get out of here!"
And they got up, and made their way to the exit of the bar; which was all for the best, because as the waiter found out when he later accidentally spilled some on the table, Evan's Bloody Mary was somehow tinted with a fair dose of Prussic Acid.
***
Somehow, our two boys ended up going out through one of the backdoors. Over it, a rusty old sign hung, about to fall off. As soon as they got out, they felt the cool night breeze hit their young faces; and when the door shut behind them, they could practically here the night's silence and the noise from the nightclub sounded almost as if it were only a far-away murmur. Loud noise sounds very soft when turned down even only slightly.
"Wow…" said Evan "This is refreshing!"
"It is, isn't it?" said Rory "Look at the sky! Look at the f*cking moon!"
They both looked up, and the light of the silvery moon reflecting in their eyes, brightened them up for an instant with an almost innocent childish shine.
Then Evan noticed the fuzzy warm romantic feeling growing inside him, and shocked, he abruptly tried to destroy the moment.
"There was a hell of a lot of chicks I could've banged in there," he said with a silly, dirty grin "You know, if I hadn't met up with you, I probably would've gotten laid toady!"
"Really?"
"Yeah!"
Rory turned from the moon and looked at him. Evan hadn't succeeded in breaking his mood one bit. He brushed his hand against the blonde boy's arm.
"Nobody said you weren't getting laid…" said Rory in a sweet, carefree and simultaneously caring voice.
Evan looked at him, estranged.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"This," answered Rory.
And wit that, he pinned Evan against the wall, and mouth to mouth began to passionately kiss him. At first Evan was surprised and reluctant, but then, half because of Rory's sexiness, half because of the moon, and half because he was so drunk he couldn't even have done proper fractions, he let himself go, and the two boy's tongues intertwined in a wet, slobbery, long, lovely kiss.
It was so long and lovely in fact that they didn't even notice that, just where they'd been a few seconds before Rory pinned Evan against the wall, the rusty old sign had fallen, and no doubt would have killed them had they stayed there.
***
The boys got to Evan's house. For the whole walk, the duo could barely keep their hands off each other; but when they opened their door and went inside, all restraints fell.
They were both hard as hell, and immediately started French-kissing each other; with a gentle but hasty and passionate hand, Rory took off Evan's shirt, revealing his white, lean muscular body, whilst Evan alight with lust practically ripped Rory's shirt off his buff brown body; and all that without getting their tongues out of each other's mouths for an instant. Pants fell to the ground and boxers were torn off, until both boys were completely naked.
"Sh*t!" cried Evan "You're huge!"
Rory grinned.
"I know… Get ready."
He then pursued to lead Evan over to his room, where he made love to him in every possible position, so that the formerly feisty blonde boy was in Seventh Heaven.
The sex was, in point of fact, so good, that none of them noticed any of Evan's kitchen appliances blowing up, and by the time Death got around to making the light fall on Evan's bed from the ceiling, with all the obligatory stressing screenshots, they were already screwing on the floor.
***
The next morning, Evan awoke naked in Rory's arms. The sun shone brilliantly through the window, and he figured it might be almost noon. He yawned and stretched a bit, and then tried to get up; but Rory, despite his eyes being closed, with that idiotic smile on his face snuggled up to him and hugged him, so that he had to stay in bed; this was just as well, because Evan's kitchen stove exploded just then, and if he had gotten up, he'd probably have been conflagrated.
Then, the clock struck twelve.
***
Obviously, Death grudgingly agreed to spare them, while Love was laughing his ass off.