Runaway
The smooth skin of their bare shoulders felt good under his hands. His grin was wild, his fingers twisting around long strands of auburn hair on one side and playing with a loose off-shoulder strap on the other. The trio stumbled slightly as they ascended the short staircase to Mission's entrance, drawing a trill of laughter from the girls' lipsticked mouths. Sho had smudges of vibrant pink and red on his cheeks and near his collar.
The bouncer took a brief look at his companions before nodding them inside without checking IDs. Sho wrinkled his nose; such easy access usually meant there were way too many dudes inside. He slid his hand down the brunette's arm, resting it low on her hip as they sauntered inside. The redhead snuggled in tighter, her fingers swirling a pattern on his bicep.
Darkness punched through by purple strobes and pulsing lasers swept over them. The music slammed into his chest, the steady untz of the bass-line making his ribcage vibrate. He preferred hip-hop for dancing, but the way the girls' bodies pressed up against him as they started bouncing to the heady beat swayed his opinion for the night.
They were both giggling as they danced, leaning forward and back around him to chat with one another in Thai. His knowledge of Thai was worse than his English, but the cadence was soothing. Each time they leaned one way the red-head would cling a little tighter, slowly wrapping herself around his waist. Sho smirked. She was definitely pressing her chest against him on purpose.
It felt good. A woman's touch was soft and warm, playful. Dropping hints about his studio deal when they were in earshot had been the right idea. They didn't even know what his music sounded like and still wanted in his pants — getting laid his first night in New York was officially the goal line. One of the girls pointed at the bar and Sho led them through the crowd. He ordered a round of shots for their threesome, then another. The music shifted faster and the two girls squealed, pulling each other out onto the floor. They beckoned for Sho.
He raised a shot to them, smiling. "View's better from here!" That sent them into hysterics. Damn, he was on tonight. The girls danced with each other, each sending him flirtatious glances.
They were cute. It was almost too easy. He scanned the crowd. Faces lit up then faded back into darkness as the lasers strafed the throbbing dance floor. A man jostled him, pushing for a place at the bar. The girls held their hands out, calling for him to come dance.
He wasn't ready to commit. They were cute. He wanted more. He wanted a hunt. Someone to make his blood run hot— that made him want to undress them there, on the dance floor. Make him lose his mind. His head felt thick, heavy; too much alcohol already? The strobes flickered in his vision. He blinked, shook his head. Dancing would help. He scanned the crowd, looking for a partner; already forgetting about the girls. There— his eyes lit on the mass of short, dark curls lit by the flashes of light. Near the front.
Sho felt his body start to hum. He barely registered the girls' surprise as he walked past them, pushing gently on backs and shoulders to thread his way through the crowd. The music grew louder, his heart thumping in his chest in time with the wild beat.
His hands shook as the paces between them shortened. People danced and wove into his path. He twisted around each interruption, heart hammering. Mustn't lose sight. Another strobe flickered over the group ahead, brightening with a flash and illuminating the face beneath the curls. A face he didn't know twisting with the dance, his too-wide mouth set in a smile above a jaw with all the wrong angles.
Sho stopped, his heart in throat, his head spinning. The music's throbbing grew unbearable, forcing its way into the corners of his consciousness. Every hammering beat mocking his hopeful dash. As if he'd be there.
"Idiot," he cursed at himself. He'd been staying up too late ever since he wrote Dreamer. The first verse echoed in his mind. He shoved his way roughly back through the crowd.
Ghost-like you haunt me
More real in my dreams
Than the world around me
I wake
You're empty
Who's the wraith now— you or me?
Thegirls had moved on to dance with two stable-looking men in dress shirts. He should go back to the hotel. Nothing taunting him there except an empty room… and sleep. Sho ordered a Jack Coke.
The chorus rose unbidden to his lips, a murmur against the side of his glass. "Come to me, my dreamer— don't leave me be." He closed his eyes and pressed the ice-frosted glass to his forehead.
A hand draped lightly over his shoulder, the touch cool on his overheated skin. A familiar voice whispered in his ear, the tone hushed provocatively.
"Looking for someone…?"
~*~
A/N— Short chapter, sorry! Blame the end of my husband's paternity leave!
WHO'S HAND BE THAT EH? WHO'S TOUCHING OUR SMOL BEAN. Did I just call Sho a smol bean? I did. I diiiiiiid. Magic of EMYM fiction! He'll come back in the manga as a raging prick and I'm just gonna be like, "Come to mommy you sweet gay boi." Muahahahaha
Chapter dedicated to brennakai who ALMOST DIED. You crazy!! So glad you're ok— I would dedicate the next Heels ch to you but I'm afraid to XD You get a sad Sho and a motherly admonition from Persie: DON'T DIE. Hugs!