This project was inspired by the song New Rules by Dua Lipa (I know, hella original but so what.)

I squinted at my cellphone as it lit up and buzzed away on my bedside table. I was extremely tempted to just let it keep ringing and ringing and go to voicemail. I wanted to ignore it and hope that whoever it was would leave a message that I could deal with in the morning. The clock beside me read in glowing neon red numbers 1:14 a.m. Normally only one person would be calling me at this hour but who knew, maybe one of my friends needed help. I rubbed one of my eyes trying to rid myself of sleep as I reached for my phone. I glanced at the name and angry contact picture on the screen before answering in a tired voice.

"Hi, Kachan."

"Heyyy, I…I-I need a favorsss."

The slurred speech on the other end of the line was surprising. Normally when he called this late his voice was sure and demanding, telling me exactly what he wanted from me and when.

"Are…are you drunk, Kachan?"

"The FUCK dush it sound like, dumbass? Come get me," he said angrily before abruptly hanging up.

I wanted to call him back and tell him to get one of the guys he had gone to the bar with to take him home. The ones he had invited right next to me without bothering to extend the invitation; not that I had been surprised. But I didn't.

At least I knew where he was. It was the same bar they always went to. One of those places downtown that toed the line between being a regular drinking establishment and a place for adult entertainment and it was always filled with college students who just got their drinking passes and early 30-somethings looking to cheat on their spouses. It usually stayed open until the early hours of the morning on the weekends. Those were the worst since the only patrons then were ex-jocks who peaked in college hip thrusting to non-sexual songs and sorority girls trying to score free drinks by way of flashing the bartender. It was one bouncer short of a nightclub.

I sat up in bed and rubbed my face sighing heavily. Looking out my bedroom window I saw the moon's sleepy face staring back at me. I should get up before I change my mind.

I swung my legs over the edge of the mattress throwing my blanket off of me. I wanted nothing more than to stay in bed but this really wasn't anything too different from the midnight adventures I normally took on Saturday nights to see him. Well, except for the fact that I was playing the part of taxi driver this time and not a bootycall. Why didn't he just call the taxi company for a ride anyway?

I had gone to sleep in sweatpants and a t-shirt and I would stick out like a sore thumb in that place. Should I change? I guess it wouldn't matter. No one would remember me if their vodka was strong enough. As I searched for my sneakers I could feel my hair sticking up in every direction in haute bedhead style. There was no time to wrestle it into submission though. I suppose that's what everyone looked like at this hour anyway. Kachan never really cared about how I looked. I hadn't really either, but that was before I'd had a realization.

On the rare days we would go out together in public Kachan was always hit on at least once; guy, girl, in between, it didn't matter. There was always someone who saw us and had enough courage to flirt with the guy with the RBF. Of course he would be single they thought, there was no way he was with the small, green-haired, baby-faced, kid next to him right?

Kachan growled at most people in the same way a rabid dog would if you encroached on its territory and that usually kept them from trying again so the flirting had never worried me much. Knowing he had other options though did. Knowing I was so easily replaceable scared me and it planted a seed of insecurity that I had been faithfully watering for months.

It made me begin to spend just a few minutes longer in front of the bathroom mirror on the days I knew we would see each other. Made me yearn to show some kind of possession when we went out as though he belonged to me; not that he let me get away with it. Made me stalk his social media profiles even though he never went on them anyway.

I finally found my shoes kicked under my bed and slipped them on. All those efforts were a waste of time. We aren't together anyway so it shouldn't have mattered.

I grabbed my cellphone and the denim jacket I kept thrown over the back of my desk chair as I made my way out of my bedroom. I picked up my house keys from the coffee table in the living room and headed out the door. The jacket had been a smart move as the cool night wind whispered through the quiet dark street in front of my house. I definitely should have stayed in bed.

As I started down the stairs and stepped into the darkness I became annoyed at myself that I often found it hard to say no to Kachan and that it seemed to be the way things would stay. Maybe one day I would grow a pair. But that wouldn't happen for a long time.

My steps sounded much louder in the empty night than I thought possible. I don't have a car, another reason he shouldn't have called me, but I doubt he'll care as long as he wakes up under a roof in the morning. Plus, if he was as drunk as he sounded, then the cool air would do him some good anyway.

The train station was only a block away so it was a quick walk. Moving to a place so close to the station so I wouldn't have to drive in to work in the city every day had seemed like a good idea at first. Now, the walls would rumble every 45 minutes without fail. I had gotten semi-used to it though and it was something I didn't really pay attention to anymore unless I was really still and quiet. Kachan was more bothered by it than I was. I shoved my hands into my pockets.

Was this the kind of life I lead? Would younger me be proud? Would he be able to understand my choices?

If he questioned me on when this whole thing between my best friend and I started I wouldn't be able to give a definitive answer. We had slipped into it as easily as sand into the sea with the pull of a wave, as snugly as a favorite pair of well-worn shoes, as quickly as an avalanche and just as powerful. If he asked me why we had begun this relationship of one-sided giving and one-sided taking I wouldn't know how to reply. We were human and sometimes desire refuses to remain simmering quietly beneath the surface of your skin. If he really pressed me on if I was truly happy this way then I'd probably just downright refuse to say anything. Hhmph. I guess there's that answered.

I walked through the unlocked doors of the station to the sounds of an employee kicking out a squatter who had attempted to spend the night in their bathrooms. I ignored them as I stood before the ticket kiosk and scanned my pass. This particular station never stopped running thanks to the ever rotating night shift and the nearly fully-automated trains that were saved for slow hours. Never thought I would have to make use of them, yet here I sat on a thoroughly uncomfortable metal bench alone on an abandoned platform in the dark.

I yawned as another gust of cool summer night air sprinted across my skin and I turned up my collar looking up into the star-splattered sky.

I tried to remember the first time I realized Kachan and I had crossed that invisible line between friendship and something far more passionate. It hadn't been when the amount of accidental touching started happening far too often to be considered as such. It hadn't been when moments of obvious physical attraction began to be a part of our daily routine.

Not when chaste pecks against each other's temples had started to merge into cheek kisses that would then slide dangerously closer to lips and eyes could never seem to stay off the other's body. Not when hands began to stroke beneath clothing and sweat damp skin had become something so incredibly delicious to the taste.

Not even when he claimed my body, my virginity forever in his possession and his in mine, for the first time.

We had been new adults fresh out of school excited to do new adult things. How long ago had that been now? Years at this point. I sighed. I could never pinpoint a defining moment, a second in time, a spotlight in my mind where I could point the finger and say 'There, that's when it happened.' We were a phenomenon. Inexplicable. Maybe we always would be.

The train's rapidly approaching headlight cut through the darkness and my thoughts as the breaks let out angry metallic whining. I rubbed my eyes and stood up. I was entertaining far too much introspection at this hour. The doors slid open with a near silent hiss and I stepped on.

The trip was short and silent. It helped that the only other passengers were a teenager who tried to keep his shaking hands from view by keeping them stuffed in his hoodie pockets, and a group of young women who seemed to be winding down from a night out of celebrating one of them getting married. The world zoomed by outside my window, blurs and barely there shapes in the shadows, fluid in the night. I pulled out my phone and sent a quick 'on my way' text. I really hoped Kachan wouldn't make things difficult. I couldn't wait to get back home.

He left me on read. At least he was still alive.

The train made it to my destination soon after and as I walked up the stairs of the platform I began to hear the sounds of the city's nightlife above me. I came often enough with friends and there was something to be said about a city's weekend beauty when the sun went down.

The way neon lights washed the sidewalks in bright greens and aggressive pinks, delicious smells from food trucks that never appeared to have a closing time and vehicles in a perpetual jam as pedestrians played chicken with oncoming traffic, dodging and weaving across the streets fully ignoring most crosswalks.

It's not hard to do. I had done it plenty of times in college and it had usually ended with some pissed off drivers flipping me off. My friends and I had been untouchable with our feet slapping on the pavement as we slid between chrome bumpers, headlights reflecting in our eyes as our laughter bounced off the brick facades of surrounding buildings and we high-fived strangers on the other side of the road who had made it before us. Being a stupid teenager had been amazing.

I stood at the crosswalk watching a boy with too many chains hanging off his neck and looping around his waist dart across the street and then hearing the sound of screeching brakes screaming through the night as a poor soul slammed to a stop not a foot away from him. The boy proceeded to slide across the hood of the car as the driver honked their horn angrily. Idiots. I smiled remembering when I had been one. Then frowned again when I remembered what I was doing here. I guess I still was.

I made my way down a few streets, criss-crossed through an alley jogging along the concrete and scaring a rat trying to feast on something wet looking who disappeared into the sewers. The bar wasn't too far from where I had come up from the station and a moonlit mile later I could see the squat square brick building with too bright white light pouring out onto the edge of the street. I opened their door and got an earful of loud classic rock from the speakers and some guy yelling for Travis to, "Hurry the hell up, the girls are waiting."

I scanned the patrons hoping to find who I was looking for among the drunk dancers, bodies slumped over tables and people who thought screaming was the same as talking. Sitting at the bar with his head flat against the hardwood surface was a blond who was looking angrily at a table of co-eds who were trying to crush beer cans with their heads. He was in all black; a long sleeved V-neck T-shirt with a skull in the center that clung to familiar muscles, black denim with rips in the knees and heavy looking boots. There were a few people who had hungry eyes on him and I couldn't blame them. He was beautiful to behold, even when he was a drunk mess.

I didn't even need to say his name for his eyes to immediately lock onto me when I was a few steps from the doorway. He pointed at me, then at the floor beneath his feet. In his state he held absolutely no authority but I obeyed the unspoken command anyway.

"They left me here," he mumbled when I joined him at the counter. "They're such shits."

"Maybe they didn't mean to," I offered knowing that sometimes his friends thought more with one head than the other.

"Oh no, they fucking meant it,"he pouted, "But I guess that's what happens when good pussy comes around right?"

"I wouldn't know," I chuckled. I lifted his head off the counter and held his face in my hands, his heated skin warming my palms. His eyes were a faded red as though the color had been watered down. "And neither would you," I said affectionately rubbing my thumbs against his cheeks.

For a brief second he allowed me to hold him as he looked into my eyes with an almost peaceful expression and in the next he was telling me to let him fucking go as he attempted to stand and not fall off the barstool. The bartender preparing a drink looked at me sideways from behind the counter as I circled my arm around my friend's waist and tried to keep him from getting too intimate with the floor. With the way his eyes were shamelessly scanning the blond in my arms I knew the sorority girls were wasting their time with him. After regaining his balance Kachan suddenly grabbed my collar and pulled me against him. His breath reeked of alcohol but I didn't back away.

"You though, you…didn't leave me here," he swallowed, "You came."

I could only nod as a slow serrated smile spread across his face.

"But I make you do that all the time don't I?"

If we had been anywhere else in public I would have been a blushing mess and maybe even run away to hide my shame. Instead the man in front of me who sank his teeth into the tender skin beneath my jaw regularly and left bruising along my hips every week was stumbling over his own two feet and not one person around us could see straight. There was enough shame for me to blend right in.

"Come on, we gotta get you home," I said uncurling his fingers from my shirt.

I tugged on his elbow and lead him towards the exit. We managed to stumble outside and begin to shakily make our way down the street. He had to occasionally lean against me and I had to subtly pull on his clothing to keep him on a semi-straight path. It was a new feeling to be in control of Kachan for once. He had never been one to relinquish dominance to me before no matter what we did. Our arrangement had cemented our roles very early on with each other and we had never strayed from them. Kachan was always in charge.

If he wanted me on my knees I would be.

If he wanted me to be quite I would be gagged.

If he wanted me beneath him screaming his name, Kachan would always get exactly what he wanted no questions asked.

I had never asked for anything for myself. Partly because I know he probably wouldn't give me anything that didn't benefit him anyways, but also because I wouldn't know what to ask for in the first place. I was always taken care of in the bedroom so I had no complaints there. I suppose a proper relationship would be well within the realm of reason but I didn't dare. The idea of being so utterly rejected tore at my heart and I would so much rather pretend and never give him the chance.

We had silently made it back to the crosswalk though it had been slower returning with Kachan taking unfairly slow steps and accidentally bumping into almost everyone we passed. I began to think they weren't accidental after he nearly tripped someone.

The light turned red and it was as though an unheard cue had been spoken and a group of teenagers on pennyboards rolled across the street weaving through the stopped cars. A car revved its engine as one of the girls rolled in front of it scaring her and a boy with black hair down to his shoulders didn't seem to like that and slammed his fist on the car's hood.

"Idiotsh," Kachan slurred glaring at the commotion.

The driver got out and began to scream at the two of them. They argued right back.

"We used to be like that, Kachan," I said watching as the driver threatened to call the cops.

"Whatever."

Kachan then wrapped his hand around my wrist and tugged me along the crosswalk when the lights changed again. I looked up at him in surprise and my breath caught in my throat. The mulit-colored lights of the buildings around us created a rainbow hued halo around his hair and buried diamonds in his eyes. I swallowed, begging my heart to calm down. He looked down at me, let go as if I had shocked him then proceeded to bump into two more people.

Of course. We were in public.

We continued on to the station in silence. As we climbed down the stairs to the train platforms, way too slowly much to the chagrin of the drunk couple behind us, Kachan seemed to forget where we were.

"Dekuuuuu? The fuck are you even doing herrrrre?" Kachan said dragging his words behind him as though they were too heavy to push past his lips properly.

We made it to our platform and I leaned him against a pillar to keep him upright.

"I'm keeping you from passing out in a ditch you alcoholic."

I sincerely hoped he wouldn't get too close to the edge of the platform. The train rolled up and I had to shove him to get him inside the car before the doors closed without us on board. The journey went about as smoothly as I had expected it to. Kachan kept threatening to heave and would fall asleep against the window only to jerk himself awake when he slid forward too fast.

I'd have to take him home with me. There were no stops any closer to his place than mine and there was no way in hell I would be walking him the five miles home again. I didn't want to take him with me, didn't think it was the smartest decision I would ever make but then again I've made worse; like playing in traffic.

He would be pissed in the morning but who cared as long as he was safe. The train rolled to a slow stop and I had to shake him awake and half lead half drag him out of his seat and off the train.

"Deku? Why…why…what are you doing here?" he asked again narrowing his eyes suspiciously at me.

Only a block more and this night would be over. I threw his arm around my shoulder when he started to falter doing my best to hold him up.

"I'm taking you home, Kachan."

"Not that you shithead. I know that." He hiccupped. "Why are you with me?"

I rolled my eyes. Talking to Kachan after a handful of shots of tequila, and whatever else he had done today, was much harder than talking to him normally; and he was already a difficult person to talk to.

"Don't ask stupid questions."

"It's not stupid. You're stupid," he pouted. "I'm not even nice to you so what…what do you even… why do you even care about me anyway? I hurt you a fuck-ton, like… aaaall the fucking time."

This line of questioning was annoying when asked by someone sober but to have my drunk lover asking it at almost four in the morning was even more troublesome.

"You don't hurt me, Kachan," I sighed.

It was true. He had never put his hands on me in that way. It was something we had talked about early on in our relationship; we had to figure out a safe word at some point right? He was aggressive in his treatment and lacked the type of tenderness that was sometimes required afterwards but he had never forced anything onto me that I didn't want. Of course, I made it easy for him when I said yes to most things.

"Oh shut the hell up," he said leaning heavily against me almost pushing me into the street, "I do. I really do. I'm not fucking shtupid. I see yoooooou. When you leave."

I grit my teeth, said nothing, and walked a little faster forcing him to stop talking in order to focus every ounce of energy into not face planting into the sidewalk. Of course this method didn't keep him silent for long; nothing ever did.

"You always look like someone shit in your Cheerios," he continued. "All depressed as fuck. If my cock ain't doing it for you anymore you don't have to keep *burp* coming."

I was beginning to think maybe it would be better to just drop my inebriated companion off under a bridge somewhere.

I had tried my best not to let him see my moments of weakness and it was for this very reason. If he knew how I really felt he might put an end to our relationship as tenuous as it was. I don't think I'm strong enough to give that up. Being as close to him as I am in the only way I can be is enough, it has to be, and I'm not going to jeopardize it. I really wished he would shut the hell up.

"There's nothing wrong with your… performance."

"Then maybe you just don't like me anymore," Kachan said reeling.

He suddenly pulled away from me, dropped to his knees and vomited in the grass. I sighed and crouched next to him, rubbing his back as he heaved. It wasn't supposed to be like this.

We should've been at the bar together. We should've laughed at the same jokes and held onto each other as we made warbly renditions of songs we didn't know the lyrics to. We should've called a cab and spent the entire ride home arguing over who would be the designated driver next time and who the bartender had been checking out the most.

Instead, I'm here squatting on the side of the road in the dark silent hours of the early morning as my lover's liver revolts against its mistreatment in front of one of my neighbor's lawns. After a few minutes the torrent seemed to stop and he coughed before drawing in a shaky breath.

"Fuck me, Deku. I'm fucked up," he said quietly as he rubbed his mouth with the bottom of his shirt.

Pathetic is not a word I would ever actively use to describe my old friend. Seeing him like this though, skin a messy patchwork of pale and flushed kneeling on the street and struggling to breathe properly with the contents of his stomach acting as fertilizer, it was hard not to.

"It happens. Come on," I said gently as I grabbed his arm to lift him back up. "We'll get you home, get some water in you, and you can go to bed."

Kachan almost couldn't get his legs under him and when he did, almost fell forward again. He wasn't going to be able to walk for much longer, that was clear. Should I call any of the guys who had been with him earlier to take him to his own house? No, they wouldn't leave a hookup to take their sloshed friend home. Kachan tripped again nearly taking me with him. I was all he had right now. That kind of dependence was new and I wasn't too sure on how I should feel about it.

"You've always been too good to me, Dekuuuu. I don't deserve you," he whined with a lopsided grin and half lidded eyes as he leaned even more heavily onto me. "You're sho…sho…sho beautiful. Anyone ever tell you that? 'Cause if they have I'm gonna fuckin' kill 'em."

Yep, he needed somewhere to knock out and fast, it didn't matter whose couch it was on. If it meant he would stop talking I would do whatever it took. I'm not used to this side of him. Hearing him say such sweet things even though he had no idea he was and wouldn't remember saying them when he sobered up was doing things to my heart that I don't allow.

I'm not stupid. I know what my feelings towards the shitfaced time bomb I have my arms around are. I also know they'll never be reciprocated. Not in this lifetime anyway. But those words were threatening to give me hope, hope that maybe subconsciously he holds some space in his heart for me no matter how small and if I let it in I knew I would pay the consequences.

I resumed our earlier pace turning onto my street while Kachan kept his eyes on the floor too busy putting all his effort into not being sick again to speak. We finally made it to my house and proceeded to battle the front stairs where Kachan swore at me for replacing the steps with an escalator.

Once I got the door open I was able to deposit him on the couch. He let out a small 'oof' as he landed and then groaned leaning his head back against the cushions.

"Ok, let's get this shirt off you. Pick up your arms," I instructed tugging at the hem of his clothes.

"Damn, if I had known you wanted me this badly I wouldn't have drank so much," he chuckled lifting his arms above his head.

"Shut up, I'm just not letting you sleep in something you hurled in," I said finally freeing him of his shirt, "and I'm sure as hell not letting you get it on my couch."

He didn't respond as he rubbed his face with his hands. I tossed his shirt aside on the way to the kitchen. I came back with a glass of water which may as well have been the tears of god with the way he sucked it down. I brought the bathroom trash can over to place it by the couch along with a spare blanket from the hall closet.

"Ok, I think you should be fine for the night. If you need anything I'll be in the room down the hall."

I turned to go but was stopped by a hand around my forearm. I looked down at him as he uncharacteristically averted his eyes and spoke into the back of his other hand.

"Don't leave me too."

"I'm not going anywhere. I'll still be here in my room."

"No stay," he stated. His blood alcohol level may have been tremendously high but that did nothing to his strength as he easily pulled me down onto his lap. As he tucked his head under my chin he mumbled, "Tell anyone and I'm fucking ending you."

I wouldn't be breaking out of his hold any time soon so I comfortably held him against my chest and leaned against the armrest.

"Your secret is safe with me. Don't worry, you won't even remember this happening," I whispered into his hair.

He grumbled then said, "I will. You can't stop me."

I ran my hands through the blonde spikes silently thinking of all the times I had wanted to do this kind of thing with him before. This would probably be so much nicer if he were fully conscious. Unfortunately, he was not a cuddler.

I could feel his breathing become steadier, evening out as it ghosted over the skin of my neck. I continued my ministrations of his hair realizing the softness was not something I ever got to appreciate since the only times my hands touched it were to pull on it when we were in bed together.

His arms slightly tightened around my waist in a very not Kachan-like way. I had always been one for gentle affections so to have even just this much was everything to me. Kachan didn't have a soft setting and his hands had never held me with such reverence before.

After a few minutes more I whispered his name. No reaction. He had already fallen asleep breathing deeply, his pulse steady and calm under my fingertips. I gently pressed my lips to the top of his head. This would never be normal for us, no matter how much I wanted it to be.

"What am I going to do with you?" I said hearing my voice quietly tremble.

Our relationship was going to be the death of me. I was starting to feel more pain than pleasure and it kept bleeding outside of the bedroom. Maybe I would find someone to take his place one day. Don't know how that's possible since everyone I know knows that Kachan would rip them to shreds should they even look at me twice. Not out of jealousy but out of possession. I'm as good as branded.

I should unwrap myself from his grasp since I absolutely refused to wake up next to him. Not like this. He grumbled slightly in his sleep snuggling even closer to me. I blinked back tears. A few more minutes couldn't hurt right?

I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter. This will be a three part story so it's not over yet. Please let me know what you thought.