Even under the cover of the awning, the nameless trick's face wore a mask of red light from the red neon rooster sign above them. Brian leaned back against the side of the building on the corner of 29 and 2nd Ave, 'The Cock' bar.
According to Cynthia, with the severe weather and tonight's impending worsening of this storm, his flight had been canceled. He had only been in New York for approximately seven hours. This afternoon he hadn't needed more than twenty minutes and nine inches to 'seal the deal' on the 'Lindon's Leather' account.
He had been hoping to return to the Pitts in time for the 'Studs & Suds' night at Babylon, but this intrusive rain had killed that dream. Nevertheless, he was Brian Kinney, loose in a new city with 'fresh meat'.
Cynthia had reserved him a room at the Plaza Hotel. If he was going to spend the night away from home, he was going to damn well enjoy the luxury of five fucking star accommodations. Also, (not by accident) it was close to the East Village, the heart of quintessential Gay New York.
He glanced once more at the twink whose mouth was currently accommodating his cock, then allowed his eyes to fall closed. He inhaled deeply, savoring the newly cleaned air the rain had washed, and the 'not too bad' blow job he was receiving. He'd had better but he'd also had far worse.
Allowing the high quantity of alcohol swimming in his veins to relax him, he listened to the downpour surrounding them. He felt content.
Although, he'd told him he wouldn't, he finished in the trick's mouth. 'What-ever-the-fuck.' The other man hadn't seemed to mind as much as he'd previously claimed, as he greedily ingested Brian's warmth.
He was contemplating taking this man back to his room, but decided he didn't want to parade this twink around the Plaza. Kinnetik's reputation was more important to him than a comfortable bed to fuck in. Against this wall would more than suffice.
As he turned the man around, he caught movement in his peripheral vision. He glanced up and forgot how to breathe. He was goddamn gorgeous. Despite the lack of sun, his golden hair seemed to glisten even in the neon glows, and night sky. Those blue eyes seemed to pierce every part of Brian. He felt for certain they could see all the way to his fucking core.
He returned his attention to the willing ass in front of him. He pushed him aside. "Fuck off." He instructed the man who was spouting off something by way of 'What? Screw you! Who do you think you are?' Brian wasn't sure. He didn't care. He was about to upgrade.
He looked once more at the breathtaking blue eyed blonde and licked his lips in anticipation. The blonde mirrored his action. 'Fucking hell' Brain thought. He had never seen such a succulent pout before. His mind was flooded with a cascading burst of fantasies involving those lips.
Upon further inspection Brian noticed that the man was not under the club's awning, but showering directly in the rain. However, he wasn't wet. 'What the fuck?' The brunette shook his head, convinced that the whiskey within was tricking his mind. He looked towards the man again, he was gone.
Brian turned around quickly (an action the tipsy part of him was none too happy about) and glanced in every direction. 'Where did he go? How could he get away that fast?' He was too fucking wasted to contemplate something so convoluted. "Your loss blondie." he slurred to himself, as he hailed a cab.
Yes. He was suddenly feeling more than ready to pass the hell out.
"Wait!" The blonde cried as he outstretched his hand towards the fading form of perfection. This beautiful man had been the first person he had seen (Them notwithstanding. He shuddered) since he had arrived here. He didn't know where exactly here was, a fact that terrified him almost as much as the place itself.
He didn't know where he was, how he had gotten here, nor' how long he had been walking these deserted streets. Hell, he wasn't exactly sure who he was. He struggled with memories that were trapped beneath a frozen pond. They refused to break through the surface regardless of the force he applied.
He was frustrated as fuck.
The overwhelming sense that there was somewhere he was supposed to be taunted him cruelly. Wherever that somewhere was, he was certain it was not here. Here, in this horrific world of chaos and nightmares.
For an unknown amount of time earlier, he had been convinced he was merely walking among a dream. However, somehow (he couldn't explain how) he knew that he was very much awake. He was very much treading the terrifying grounds of hell.
It hadn't been so bad at first. He had remembered being on a staircase in front of a building that he didn't recognize, yet it had a vague familiarity. Searching his mind to identify it, he grew angry. 'Why couldn't he remember anything before that moment'?
Anger and frustration emerged into fear when he first saw them. The only other beings that appeared to occupy this chilling universe with him. They were all the same. Black shadow like figures that appeared human, though were faceless. They mutely glided down the seemingly endless roads in a repetitious manner. Yes, out of all of the daunting things about this place it was them who scared the blonde the most.
He looked up, the sky was still pitch black. No moon, no clouds, not a single fucking star in sight. The vast blackness attempted to devour him whole. Save for the occasional flashes of deep red lightening, nothing in this place lit up. Until, him.
The blonde had been bent down to touch his delicate fingers to the small river of liquid running down the asphalt. Unmistakably, it had been blood. Despite the increasingly sick feeling harboring in his stomach and the weakening of his knees, he'd managed to stand.
He was there. Quite literally glowing, an aura of significant connection poured from him. The blonde was grateful for the sudden presence of once forgotten light.
The flawless brown haired stranger stood only feet from him. He appeared to be looking directly at him. The blonde had felt a pang of relevance when his eyes locked with those hazel pools. The man had seen him, he was positive.
When he had opened his mouth to speak to him, to ask him so many of his unanswered questions, he was gone. The blonde watched in anguish as he simply vanished. Normally, he would question the possibility of such an occurrence, though here anything was possible.
A loud crash of thunder invaded the deafening silence. The man felt it vibrate his bones. Once again this world's boundless black sky began to dispense an equally black rain. Lifting his pale hand to the air, he watched the darkened drops embrace his flesh. It looked to him very much like ink.
Feeling scared, alone, and a disturbing longing to see the mysterious 'glowing man' again, the blonde sat in a corner and pulled his knees to his chest. His hopeless tears getting lost within the sinister shower.
