A/N: All right, here's the part of this story that initially brought me to a miserable writer's block. Proud to say I finally got "it" back and was able to write this. Not the greatest thing I've ever written, but it's closer to what I wanted than what I had originally written for this chapter. But whatever! Thanks to everyone who's had nice things to say about this story! Hope you enjoy!

BLAZE THE NIGHT
CHAPTER THREE
TREASURE HUNT

"When daylight's fading, we're gonna play in the dark 'til it's golden again. And now it feels so amazing, can see you coming, and we'll never grow old again. You'll find us chasing the sun."

Indian Treasure certainly lived up to its name. Outside, the building was a dusty, sandy structure reminiscent of ancient Pueblo-style houses. Inside, a tribal energy permeated every nook and cranny of the nightclub. Adventure and mystery floated through the air like smoke signals, touching those who danced and drank and influencing their every action. When one stepped inside Indian Treasure, he could very easily become the strong and fearless brave, stalking the night for his prey. Or, perhaps, he could be the wise and noble chief, the center of all attention. Unfortunately, he could also became the pariah, guilty of some terrible social crime and exiled from all civilization. Yes, Indian Treasure was a place where dreams could come true...and nightmares, too.

As Carlos Garcia walked up the stairs and into the main room of the second floor, he felt the energy pumping through his blood. Saturday nights were his time to shine. All throughout the week, he had to put up with two good-for-nothing jobs, an eccentric father who had never grown up, and an angry little brother who was all too ready to grow up. They were all far from his mind on Saturday nights, though, because that was his time. His music, his friends, his life.

He always wore his sharpest threads when he went out. Tonight, it was a pink polo, sky blue bootcut jeans, and a brand new pair of shoes. His clothes were inexpensive - a combination of Dollar General and Wal-Mart purchases - but he didn't really dress to impress anyone. It felt good to look good, though, and Carlos knew he looked good. All he needed was a few hours in an electric place like Indian Treasure, and he'd be good to go for another week of life's bullshit.

"Let me get a rum and Coke," he ordered when he took a seat at the bar. He was so thankful that the whole concept of "carding" was unheard of at Indian Treasure. He was only eighteen and fresh out of high school, but mentally, he was more than mature enough to hold his liquor.

While waiting for his drink, he scanned the dance floor. Everyone was free and alive. They danced, they drank, they laughed...they kissed, they hugged. Boys danced with boys. Boys danced with girls. Girls danced with other boys. The atmosphere was contagious, just the way Carlos liked it. As soon as his friends showed up, he'd be ready to let loose on the floor, where all of his cares would vanish into the night.

"Here you go, sweetie," the shirtless bartender said, pushing him his drink. Carlos paid him and slipped him a hefty tip, and just then, his phone started to vibrate in his pocket. He gave it a look and put it to his ear.

"Hey!" he greeted enthusiastically. "Where you guys at?"

"I'm at Taco Bell," his friend Casey honked. It was obvious he'd been crying. "I don't know where Kenneth is, and I really don't give a damn. All I care about is my Mexican pizza."

Carlos rolled his eyes and shook his head. "What did you guys fight about this time?"

"He found out I was in a drag show last week."

"Casey, you know he doesn't like it when you dress up..."

"Well, that's his problem, not mine! If he can't stand the fact that his boyfriend looks good in a damn dress, then maybe we shouldn't be together. I told him that, too, and he packed his things and left."

Carlos took a long sip from his drink. Always something with those two. Always. And he hated when it would get in the way of his good time. "So both of you are just abandoning me tonight?"

"Carlitos, I wouldn't be able to dance even if I wanted to. I hate the fucker, but he knows how to put a damper on my mood. I'm sure you'll have fun without us."

Carlos decided that he wasn't even gonna argue. Even if he could convince Casey to come out, he would have just ended up listening as he cried and cried some more about his "straight-acting" boyfriend. Honestly, spending the night alone would have been better than that.

"All right. Whatever. I hope you guys work it out." He hung up the phone before Casey could throw more insults at Kenneth.

Carlos took another sip of his drink and exhaled. This night was not supposed to end before it began. He looked too good and was too ready to have fun for it to be over. The last thing he wanted to do was go home, but the club scene was ineffective if you were all alone. Sure, he probably would have gotten someone's attention, but he wasn't into the picking-up-and-hooking-up game.

Carlos turned back to the dance floor, trying to figure out what to do. Maybe if he ran into some of his other friends, he could tag along and party with them, but the more he looked for a familiar face, the less likely it seemed he would find one. He took one more sip from his drink and set it on the bar, suddenly not in the mood for alcohol anymore, and he was just about ready to throw in the towel and head on home when his eye was caught by a figure standing in the shadows on the other side of the club.

Wait...is that-?

It was 11:30, and James was over it. He'd humored Kerry and some of their other friends by drinking a few and dancing with them, but as he began to remember all the reasons why he hadn't been to Indian Trashure in at least four months, he was just over it. First, the men all looked the same. Pieces of plastic that had been left out in the sun to tan too long, resulting in a burnt and melted look. Not cute, but they sure thought they were. Second, the men were all after the same thing. Oh, James would have bet that about 92% of the men on that dance floor had condoms in their pockets and planned to use them before the sun came up. Third...it was all just so freaking boring to him. He was nineteen, but he'd been going out to places like this for three years, and he truly felt like he'd grown out of it.

Killing the mood wasn't his forte, though, and so he found a nice piece of wall to hold up. He'd let the others have their fun, and when they were all shit-faced and ready to make regretful decisions, he'd wrangle them up, and they'd head on out. Until then, though, he was stuck in a club he hated, busy thinking about a life that was getting increasingly stale.

I'm going through my mid-life crisis, and I'm not even twenty. Guess this means I won't make it past forty. At least I'll die young.

As he checked his watch, though, he couldn't shake the vague feeling that he was being watched. Well, he could feel tons of eyes on him. Every time he came here, he could feel them all staring, all wanting a piece of him like they were vultures and he was a carcass on the pavement. But this time, there was something different...there was the slight feeling of familiarity...

Holy shit, it's him!

He found Carlos sitting at the bar, and as cliche as it sounds, their eyes met across the crowded room. James quickly fixed his posture and tried to look as cute as possible, but then he saw that Carlos was walking over to him, and he got even more self-conscious. Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, oh my God... His head whipped around, trying to find someone he knew so that it didn't look like he was just standing there alone, but it was too late.

"So," Carlos began excitedly, "you were checking me out behind those shades today."

James's eyebrows slowly went up. Good lord, is he gay after all? "Hmm...maybe," he said, immediately defaulting into "tease" mode. He was known up and down the California coast for his ability to play hard-to-get. It was always the first thing he did when he liked a guy. "Why?"

"Well, I was definitely getting a good look at you," Carlos replied, his eyes concretely set on James's. He knew this game all too well, and he'd mastered the art of stopping teases dead in their tracks.

"Oh, really?" James asked, catching the unmistakable look of seduction in Carlos's eyes.

"Yeah, and I meant what I said. I want to keep you around. Let me buy you a drink."

James chuckled under his breath and absently licked his lips as he purposely ogled Carlos's body. "All right. I'm down with that."

"You down with that?" Carlos repeated in a hushed tone as he took James's hand in his.

"Yeah, I'm down with that."

Carlos led James through the crowd back to the bar, where they sat on neighboring stools. James watched as Carlos ordered the drinks, very amused by how easily the alleged drug dealer from Pomegranate Point blended in with the demented debauchery of Indian Treasure. It was just a little disorienting. Carlos, meanwhile, was totally in his element. He'd had a sneaking suspicion that the rich boy who'd visited him that day might be into some boy-on-boy fun. Now that he had an opportunity to see how far James would go, he was going to pull out all the stops. He knew how to get a guy's attention, and even if the fact that James was quite clearly a few dozen social classes above him was enough to give him a little pause, the scrappy boy from the bad neighborhood was determined.

"You're fuckin' with me, right?" James finally asked once the drinks were ordered and he was thinking straight (err...correctly?) again. "Like...you're here with some friends or something who made you come, right?"

"No," Carlos replied truthfully, shaking his head. "I come all on my own."

"Yeah, I bet you do," James mumbled, making Carlos crack a smile.

"Is it so hard for you to believe that a guy from the hood could be...into all this?"

"No, not really. I'm just trying to figure out what the odds were of us just happening to be in the same place at the same time."

"Oh, so now I'm a stalker?"

"No, that's not what I meant!"

But Carlos just shook it off and laughed. "You, my friend, need to loosen up."

The bartender returned with the drinks and handed them over after Carlos paid. "Here," he said, handing James his cup. "Drink up." James did as he was told, but he kept his suspicious eyes on the suave Latino.

The speakers began to blare one of the latest club singles, and the dance floor went absolutely bonkers. A feral beat marked time as the floor filled with warm bodies and a primal mania vibrated through every surface.

"Come on!" Carlos exclaimed, grabbing James's hand again and leading him unwillingly to the floor.

"Dude, wait!" James protested futilely as he clutched his drink. "I don't even know- I don't want to dance!"

"But you're gonna!"

And sure enough, James soon found himself in the thick of the action, with this mysterious boy beside him, and it was hard to keep from moving to the rhythm. Every time he looked at Carlos, he was met with twinkly brown eyes and an infectious smile, and all of his inhibitions started to fade away.

"Come on, stringbean," Carlos nudged, "shake that ass."

"Oh my God!" James gasped, shocked but amused by Carlos's request.

"Shake it!"

Their eyes met again, and James turned around, and even though he towered over his dance partner, he popped his butt out, slightly bent his knees, and started to reach for the ground, feeling Carlos's crotch grinding up behind him appropriately.

"Yeah, there you go!" Carlos called out to a laughing James. "Back it up, rich boy!"

"Do your friends in Pomegranate Point know this side of you?" James asked when he came back up and they were dancing face-to-face again.

"A lot of 'em have tried to get to know it, if you know what I mean."

"Hmm," James nodded.

"But I don't let just anybody in," he added, eying James intensely, "if you know what I mean."

"I can respect that," James acknowledged, and they continued to dance.

"Speaking of friends, where's, uh...you know who?" Carlos asked, looking around for the only slightly familiar face of the girl who'd crashed into his car the night before.

"Kerry?" James asked. "She's around here somewhere. Should I find her for you?" he asked with a glint of sarcasm in his eye.

"No," Carlos shook his head, smiling, "I'm good."

They danced and danced as the music climaxed, and by the time the song was over, many of the clubbers were pooped and ready for a break, albeit a very, very brief one, but for those who wanted to linger on the floor, a soft ballad began to play, soliciting lots of immature "whoo"'s from the patrons.

Well, it was fun while it lasted, James thought to himself as the people around them began to pair up on the dance floor. He figured that he and Carlos had spent as much time together as they were meant to, and he was prepared to go back to his group of melodramatic friends, but Carlos had other plans. He took both of James's hands and gave him an earnest invitational nod. I'm not done with you yet, rich boy. James started to giggle, thinking for sure that Carlos was joking, but when he saw the look in his eye, he knew this was not the case, and the space between the two of them got smaller and smaller until they were dancing body-to-body in a small, slow circle.

I'm slow-dancing with a guy from the hood who Kerry and I got into a car crash with last night. What is my life...what are my choices?

"That was...um...it was nice," James said.

"I think so, too."

Carlos and James sat at a table in the corner of the club after the music had revved back up and the dance floor was once again jumping.

"I had no intentions of dancing at all tonight," James exhaled, feeling his muscles tightening and absently wondering if he was getting too old for this shit.

"Really?" Carlos asked, downing the rest of his third drink of the night. "What's the point of coming out to a place like this if you're just gonna stand around in the shadows?"

"It wasn't my choice to come, I promise you," James explained. "Kerry and some of our other friends forced me out here. If it was up to me, I'd be in bed with a bowl of ice cream and Netflix." God, my life sounds boring as fuck.

"That actually sounds like a good night," Carlos said, nodding. "Maybe some time soon, I can join you for that ice cream and Netflix."

"Maybe," James agreed, letting his eyes linger on Carlos's. He smiled despite himself, but he really couldn't think of any good reason why he shouldn't allow himself to be attracted to this guy. Carlos obviously seemed to be attracted to him, and he was also being extremely charming. It was the type of thing that James had always gone for, but it was also the type of thing that had always led to heartbreak.

"What's your gripe with this place anyway?" Carlos asked, strategically trying to get into James's mind.

"Oh, there's no gripe," James answered defensively. "It's just...I don't know...there's nothing new here. It's the same people, same drinks, same songs, same everything."

"I'm new," Carlos reminded him. "I'm not the same, am I?"

James could see that the little fucker was trying hard, and he rewarded him. "No, you're definitely different."

"Good." Carlos knew deep down that he'd never stand a chance against some of the more desirable men in the club, but for as long as he could be something new and different, he knew he would have James all to himself.

"It's such a good night," he commented, delighted with the atmosphere of the club.

"Yeah," James said, "people are really having a good time."

"Yeah, well, I sorta meant that it's a good night because I found you," Carlos clarified. Before James could turn to him and properly respond to the comment, though, Carlos licked his lips and leaned in, bringing his mouth to the soft skin of James's left cheek. He gently pressed his mouth onto the cheek and sucked it ever so slightly, and James could feel his breath stifling.

"I'm sorry," Carlos said once James didn't turn to make the cheek kiss a mouth-to-mouth one.

"No," James stopped him, putting a hand on Carlos's thigh under the table. "It's all right. I just wasn't...I guess I wasn't expecting it." Carlos looked at him and saw that James was being sincere. The sudden rush of nervousness that he'd felt was subsiding, and he flashed his million-dollar smile again.

"To be completely honest," James continued, "I wasn't expecting any of this tonight. At all."

"Heh," Carlos let out. "Well, you know what they say. Expect the unexpected, right?"

"Heh, yeah."

They slowly looked at each other again, and as their faces got closer, Carlos could feel James's hand shaking. "Come on, this isn't your first time kissing a boy, is it?"

"No," James said. "I'm just-"

But Carlos bridged the gap before he could complete his thought, and they were kissing. It wasn't a passionate, tender love fest where tongues were dancing and intermingling, but it was beautiful for what it was - a quick peck between two young men who were enjoying each other's company for the very first time.

"There," Carlos said with a tone of certainty. "It happened."

"Yes, it did," James replied, his nose wrinkling at the taste of Carlos's rum-flavored lips.

They sat looking at each other, the music filling them both with adventure.

"Come on, let's dance again," Carlos suggested, and he took James's hand.

Outside Indian Treasure, there was no shortage of the truly drunk and the pretending-to-be-drunk as they stumbled along the sidewalk and craved attention. They fell back against the building, they fell down in the street, and they tried to keep themselves together every time a cop passed by so as not to be hauled in for public intoxication. Amongst all this, though, James and Carlos walked out of the club and found a nice quiet spot down the way to hang out. They were only slightly buzzed.

"You're a fucking dancer," James teased, giving Carlos a playful shove. "You like to fucking dance."

"Oh, don't act like you wasn't watching me dance, rich boy!" Carlos started dancing on the sidewalk, twisting his hips and pushing his butt up against James's legs. James laughed and pushed him off, but he could feel a little stir in his pants.

"All right, all right, you're right. I was watching you," James admitted. "But only because you are absolutely crazy!"

"Oh whatever! I think you like crazy," Carlos said, and he pinned James up against the wall. "Don't think just because you're taller than me that I can't have my way with you."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, really."

Carlos stood on his tiptoes and dropped a messy kiss on James's lips, but this time, James pulled him closer and kissed him back.

"Yeah, you like crazy," Carlos whispered.

They sat on the curb, and Carlos pulled out a cigarette and lighter, immediately raising James's caution. He couldn't deal with smokers...he never could and probably never would. But for tonight, he'd make a tiny exception. Just for tonight. It won't last any longer than that, anyway, right?

"So," Carlos began, "you know that I live in Pomegranate Point, but you haven't told me where you live. Or is that confidential information?"

"I live up in Elizabeth Valley," James replied, a slight tone of pride in his voice upon mentioning one of the city's most opulent neighborhoods.

"Oh wow!" Carlos marveled. "You really are a rich boy! Look at you!"

"Please, I'm rich in finances only. It doesn't define who I am, just like I'm sure where you're from doesn't define you."

"Heh. I don't think it does, but tell that to other people. Hell, tell that to your friend."

In his buzzed state, James had to think for a second about what Carlos meant. "Oh!" he exclaimed when he caught on. "Look, Kerry's...she's stupid, okay? I like her, she's my best friend, but she's got a lot of fucked up things about her."

"Yeah, she goes around crashing into people's cars and then blames them for it. Why are you guys friends anyway?"

"I don't know...because we went to high school together...and middle school...and elementary school. She's just always been there, I guess."

Carlos nodded. "Where'd you go to high school?"

"St. Germaine Prep."

"Jesus! But I guess I shouldn't be surprised."

"What's wrong with St. Germaine Prep?" James needled, tickling Carlos's underarm. "I know it's not the prestigious educational institution that Pomegranate Point High is, but-"

"Hey! Hey now! Two things. First, you use really big words when you're drunk...or have been drinking. And second, no talkin' shit about PP High!"

"PP High! Did you take tests in how to piss?"

"No, we just had to take a lot of piss tests, if you know what I mean!"

They both giggled at their juvenile humor, but their loose body movements brought them closer, and Carlos tossed his cigarette and stepped on it.

"You're really the first person I've ever met from that type of neighborhood," James said. "Well, except for Delores, our maid."

"Of course, you have a maid."

"Well..."

"Does it excite you to talk to a boy from the hood?" Carlos asked in a whisper, and he put his arm around James's shoulders and brought him in closer. "Does it make you feel dangerous?"

"I don't know," James said. "Should it?" He could smell the cigarette on Carlos's breath and it turned him off so much, but still...there was something drawing him in. They got closer and closer until they were going in for another kiss, but this time, they were interrupted by a loud, screeching voice.

"HEY, THERE HE IS. JAMES, WE'RE READY TO GO TO THE NEXT FUCKING CLUB! STOP BEING A STREET WHORE AND DRIVE US SOMEWHERE!"

It was Kerry, drunk off her ass and more obnoxious than ever. She was with two other girls and three guys; collectively, they were James's normal group of friends, though normal was not the best descriptive for them. All filthy rich, all borderline alcoholics, and all positively fucked up in the head.

James immediately pulled away from Carlos, who turned to face the motley crew as they stood on the sidewalk. "Guys, go wait in the car," James said, standing and pointing his keyless entry remote to an SUV parked a very short distance down the street.

"No, we're ready to go NOW!" one of the guys, Shawn, said, as he pawed on Carlos. "And bring your sexy little friend with you."

James started to feel second-hand embarrassment as his friends descended on Carlos, and he hoped to God Kerry wouldn't recognize him, but it was too late.

"Hey, wait a minute! I know who this guy is!" she exclaimed, squatting down in his face. "It's that drug dealer I was telling you guys about! He's the one who fucked up my car!"

"You fucked up my car!" Carlos quickly corrected as he got to his feet, but his words didn't mean anything to anyone.

"James, you are doing so much, making out with the hood rat drug dealer who fucked up my car," Kerry hissed. "Of all the hot guys here, why are you wasting time with him? It looks like he's wearing the latest in dollar store fashion, for goodness' sake. Ditch his Mexican ass and bring us to Arabian Knights. We want to view sexy boys in turbans."

"I'm Venezuelan, you cunt," Carlos hissed right back at her.

"Oh HELLLLL no," Shawn spat, and he rolled up his sleeves, ready to fight, but James pushed him back.

"All of you need to shut the fuck up and go sit down in the car right now before I leave you bitches in the middle of nowhere and make you walk home," he commanded. "Now go!"

They walked away with their heads hung low, feeling like kids who were just reprimanded by their parents. Once they were gone, James was full of apologies.

"I'm so, so sorry about all of that," he said, hoping Carlos wasn't turned off. "I have to talk to them like that or they won't listen."

"No, it's cool. I understand," Carlos said, but a little bit of him was hurt by Kerry's belittling of him. "You have to go, I understand," he said.

"I don't have to. I mean, I don't want to," James said. "I can lock them in the car, and we can forget they even exist."

"No, that wouldn't be fair, would it? Besides, I'm really out later than I should be. I have work early in the morning, so I should be going. Look...um...how about we exchange phone numbers, and we can keep in touch?"

James started to nod. "Okay. Let's do that."

They quickly told each other their phone numbers and keyed them into their phones.

"I really had a great time with you tonight," James said to Carlos, but Carlos just nodded and smiled.

"I had fun, too. Um...I think your friends are waiting."

He gave one final nod and then turned and walked away.

As James walked to his car, he didn't know what to think. Did his so-called friends ruin a chance for him? Or had there been no chance at all? What exactly was this the beginning of? Would he even see this guy again? Hell, he hadn't imagined he'd see him again when he'd saw him earlier that day, so the odds weren't so bad that they'd come across each other again. But, as he got into the driver's seat and once again yelled at his group to shut up, he hoped and prayed to a God he didn't even believe in that this wasn't over.

NOTE: As you can see, this is moving quickly, but don't think it's gonna be easy for these two! Obstacles are already rearing their ugly heads, and they'll soon become more prominent. Keep reading!