Chapter 2: Ships Passing in the Night
On a Friday night, if you stepped into the busiest-looking gay bar in New York City, you might notice the crowd of people dancing and swaying to the music first. Then, you might notice the people sitting along the bar counter, or the girl passed out on a table with her friends. But rarely would anyone notice a small, raven-haired man sitting on a lounge couch towards the furthest back corner of the establishment.
Nico could feel the heavy bass, thrumming along with the high-energy club music, start to fade into the background of his consciousness as he took another sip of his drink. Did he know what was in it, or how much it cost him? Absolutely not. All he knew was that he needed an escape, and the easiest way was to disappear somewhere into the throng of people on the dance floor.
The chemical, burning taste of hard liquor didn't disgust him anymore. It had been much too long since the first time he ever wandered into a bar with a group of friends, ordered his first drink, and gagged on the acrid taste of alcohol the second it hit his tongue.
Now, he downed drinks like nobody's business, constantly chasing the temporary relief that intoxication brought him. The initial nausea that the smell of alcohol used to cause him was now mostly ignored, the burning taste of liquor now more relieving rather than revolting.
He felt the spreading warmth in his chest as the liquor finally reached his stomach, knowing full well that he would be able to escape from all his thoughts soon. He sighed and emptied his glass save for three ice cubes that clinked as he set the glass back down. Pushing himself up using the seat of the couch, he managed to stand up with his glass and headed back towards his trusty bartender.
"Rough day, Nico?" The six-foot-tall, blonde bartender asked, violet eyes eyeing the already empty glass in the other man's hand. "You usually take your time with the first drink of the night."
"Meh, could've been worse," Nico replied, setting the glass down on the counter. "Nothing really happened, I'm just not in the mood to take things slowly today."
"Understandable," the bartender replied. "Did you want another drink, or are you here to bask in my skillful, interesting conversation skills?"
"I'll just have another one of whatever you just gave me, on the rocks," Nico replied. Soon enough, there was a new strawberry daiquiri in front of him.
"Thanks, Pollux," Nico said, grasping the drink firmly with his right hand as he reached out to Pollux with his phone, digital payment at the ready. "Wait, you put my two extra shots in there, right?"
"I'd never serve you a drink without them," Pollux replied, charging Nico for the drink on a hand-held card reader.
Nico chuckled. "You know me too well," he retorted and took picked up the drink Pollux had set down on the counter. Pollux smiled, returning to drying freshly washed glasses on a rack behind him.
The buzz of Nico's previous drink finally kicked in, the familiar, heavy weight that alcohol brought once again sinking into his chest. He could feel the heat rushing to his now-flushed face and the telltale warmth of his hands confirmed that the liquor was rushing through his system. The iced drink should have chilled Nico's hands, but the numbness of his light buzz lessened the cold and the cool condensation on the side of the glass was actually rather comforting.
He swirled the drink around with the fluorescent pink plastic straw in the glass before gulping down half the glass, setting it back down on the counter.
"Want another one before heading back to your booth?" Pollux asked, gesturing at Nico's already half-empty glass.
"Sure, why not," the smaller man replied, cocking his head to the side as he watched Pollux mix him another drink.
"This one's on me," Pollux said, smiling at Nico as the half-Italian reached for his phone again. "It's the least I can do for my favorite regular."
"Aw, you're too sweet," Nico drawled, numbness finally reaching his face as he was handed the second glass.
"I hope your night gets at least a little bit better," Pollux replied, sympathy clear in his eyes as he gave Nico one last smile before taking another person's order.
Nico nodded back at the bartender in gratitude, before heading back over to his seat. Thankfully, no one had taken the booth while he was gone, so he slid back onto the couch and set the extra drink on the table in front of him.
His mind was finally quiet, his inhibitions lowered, his body relaxed, and he found his gaze drifting out to the increasingly unfocused mass of people out on the floor. Who was going to be the one to capture his interest just for tonight?
As Nico's perception of reality drifted, he reminisced on his habit of picking up guys only to make himself feel a bit better for a night, before completely ghosting them within minutes after he stumbled out of yet another unfamiliar apartment. It was cheap and easy validation, a reminder that he was still desirable, that people could still want to be near him.
But by the end of the day, the self-proclaimed "Ghost King" would remain alone.
Downing the rest of his second daiquiri, he grimaced, knowing that drinking on a completely empty stomach would come back to bite him in the ass later. But for now, there wasn't much he was willing to do about it. Might as well enjoy the alcohol while it flowed in his system. The tingling numbness intoxication brought finally reached his legs, and Nico finally resolved to get what he had come here for.
He pulled off his worn, black leather jacket, revealing an equally pitch-black, skin-tight tank top cut down the sides, exposing his delicate, porcelain skin. He passed under an air vent, feeling the hairs on his arms prick up in response to the chill, but as he sauntered over to the mass of moving people in a daze, he could still feel the warmth of intoxication continued to spread out from his stomach towards his limbs.
Lightly shimmying to the beat, Nico made his way towards the center until he could no longer see where he was sitting earlier, where he left his drink unattended and jacket abandoned. The feeling of bodies bumping into each other around him helped him further disconnect from his mind, and he let the crowd take control of the movement of his feet.
It was just barely too dim to clearly make out the features of anyone's face, but enough to see their general shapes. The alcohol certainly did not help in that regard. Some were bulky and muscular, others were slim and slender, some were tall, some were short, some were not of the gender Nico sought out. But there were enough people for him to disappear, and that's all he wanted.
The passage of time was completely insignificant in this place, songs blending into each other seamlessly with no real indication of any hourly intervals. It could have just been a few minutes, or could also have been hours, but Nico had no way of distinguishing any of it. It felt like he could go on for days like this, never stopping except to continue numbing all aspects of his existence.
As he swayed with the people around him, Nico felt a pair of large, sweaty palms snake their way around his waist, hands slipping into the side slits of his top and gripping him lightly. A gravelly, baritone hum of approval made Nico shiver as he was pulled towards the man behind him.
Through the thin tank top Nico was wearing, he could feel the familiar ridge of a denim waistband press into his lower back. He glanced down at the arms encircling him and momentarily admired the monotone inked designs on the other man's forearms, strongly contrasted against Nico's.
He smirked, expression hidden in the poorly lit room, as he reached up behind him to cup a heavily stubbled jawline.
Nico was the perfectly enticing lure, and here was tonight's catch.
They moved together for some time, bodies pressed flush together and breathing synced with the rhythm. As the songs passed, the hands tracing Nico's body began roaming lower, until Nico found himself in a more… compromising situation than he intended to be in at that point in the night.
"You wanna get out of here?" The stranger asked, leaning down to lightly nibble on Nico's right ear, tugging on the obsidian piercing on his earlobe.
Nico normally would have been revolted by the feeling of wetness on his ears, but at this point, the second drink had fully settled into his system and he was much too far gone to really care. He inhaled and nodded as he grasped one of the firm hands on his torso.
"Let me get my things so you can show me a good time tonight, daddy." The words rolled off Nico's tongue like sickeningly sweet molasses, the light Italian lilt to his otherwise accent-less speech likening his voice to a purr.
Lightly pushing his way through the crowd, with the other man in tow, one arm still around Nico's waist, the pair, following Nico's lead, wandered back towards the booth where Nico's things were.
Walking past the cold vents, Nico shivered and realized that it was time to "break the seal", so to speak.
"Hey, my jacket's right there," the small, lanky man said, gesturing towards the booth he had occupied earlier in the night. "I'm just gonna run to the bathroom real quick. I'll be back in a bit."
"I'm not planning on going anywhere tonight without you," the stranger replied, sliding into the booth next to Nico's things with a grin on his face.
Nico finally got a good look at his catch of the night. Chestnut-brown hair styled up into a modern pompadour matched well with the man's well-shaped five o'clock shadow. Intense grey eyes under a sharp, piercing gaze were only further defined by his darker, highly-arched brows. A defined jawline gave way to a muscular neck and upper shoulders straining the short sleeves of a navy-blue shirt, tucked into the same pair of black cowboy cut jeans that, minutes ago, were so firmly pressed into Nico's svelte form.
If Nico had passed him in the street, he would definitely have looked back a second and third time to drink in the other man's appearance.
There was something foreboding about the way he was sitting, the predatory look in his chiseled face, that caught an unnoticed bystander's eye. Despite the unseen eyes watching the interaction, Nico was not about to let this hunk of a man slip from his grasp, and shot him a wink as he turned away, heading towards the men's room by the bar.
"I'll be heading out soon, Polly!" Nico slurred, waving at the bartender behind the counter.
The mess of dirty blonde hair whipped around upon hearing Nico's voice, flashing Nico a smile.
"Getting out early tonight?" Pollux said, eyes crinkling in mirth.
"Thank the gods," Nico replied, fake fanning himself with his face. "It's humid out there."
"Heard that," the bartender replied. "Make sure you get home safe, alright? Don't want to read about your unsightly demise tomorrow on my way to work."
Nico rolled his eyes. "I can take care of myself, I'm a big boy now."
"Just making sure," Pollux responded with a concerned expression on his face. However, Nico was not quite perceptive enough at the moment to notice any nuance in facial expression.
"Remember, if you ever actually need me, you can call me. Even while I'm working here as a bartender, at the end of the day, we've been friends for years. I just want you to be safe."
"Thank you," Nico responded, smiling softly and pushing open the door to the bathroom before pausing for a moment.
"I really do appreciate you, love."
"Anytime," the blonde responded with a smile before turning to serve another customer.
Blonde. The memories of that day in the subway station, two weeks ago, suddenly came flooding back into Nico's mind. A flushed red face too shy to make eye contact. Intensely blue eyes filled with hurt that so achingly reminded him of his own traumatic past, framed by the most graceful tousled waves of golden blonde. The audience of one that had appeared absolutely enchanted by just Nico's impromptu public performance. Three hours of spiritual, emotional, musically driven connection without a single word spoken between them until the moment right before he disappeared. Sadly, they were nothing but strangers, just ships passing in the night.
Having finished his business, Nico approached the bathroom counter and gripped the edge of the sink, trying to steady his racing mind and his vision. Why was he still dwelling on that moment? He was definitely reading too much into it, and the chances of them running into each other again were slim to none in the bustling, sleepless city.
He looked back up at the mirror in front of him as he felt a rush of cool air behind him, and through the haze of intoxication, Nico's dark brown eyes locked gazes with sky blue ones through the mirror. The same golden locks that haunted his mind from day to day effortlessly surrounding high cheekbones and that familiar, broken expression he saw in the backdrop of his dreams.
Great. Now he was starting to hallucinate the man in the real world too.