Suggested Listening: "Wolf Like Me" - TV on the Radio (lyrics in this chapter are from this song)

Feel It in My Bones

~Wolf Like Me~

On the dance floor, the lights made my eyes ache, and I could not remember why I had decided against wearing my goggles. The bass was a constant thrum of energy – sort of like a heartbeat – and the people around us danced like it was the last thing that they were going to do; if the music stopped, they would cease with it. Across from me, Mello's eyes were lidded and shining under the lights. There was an invitation there that was echoed by the teasing tilt of his lips: "Come closer." Like everyone else, my feet moved to a beat that was suddenly as necessary as breathing.

In the thick of the crowd, we were being pressed upon on all sides – but still there was a separation between us. Neither of us dared get too close.

Not yet.

I understood now what it is like to be so close yet so far away. I could not remember where I had heard that from. Maybe I had heard it too many times to remember the original source. Maybe I am thinking in clichés – I don't know.

I don't know.

The song changed, and suddenly Mello's hands were resting on my hips. I stopped moving altogether, like someone had given me the command to freeze, and I gave him a questioning look. His eyes flashed a challenge, stubborn as always.

"You're overthinking it," he said. "Just move with the music."

So that's what it took to bridge the gap. If anything, I could thank my two left feet for trying his patience.

"I don't know how."

He pursed his lips and rolled his eyes, but I could tell he was more amused than anything else. "I'll show you."

And he did.

I don't pretend to know anything about music; it's all Greek to me. I understand numbers, I understand sequences – but there was disconnect between the waves of sound hitting against my eardrums and the way my body should move in response. Music was not a language I was accustomed to.

But I did understand the way my pulse elevated as Mello pressed himself against me.

I understood the way his hips swayed to the beat and how to move my feet in retaliation – give and take. I understood the sudden desire to take control, and the look in his eyes that said he would surrender if asked. I understood the feeling of the fabric bunching as I slid my hand up his back, chasing after the shiver that travelled up his spine.

Dancing was made for two.

Drums shot through my consciousness like gunfire, and I realized with a start that the song had changed once again. Mello must have sensed my hesitation because he pulled away.

We regarded each other for a moment.

"Well," – was it my imagination or did he look a little shaky? – "See? You can dance."

I grinned from ear to ear, and he threw back his head and laughed.

I took his hand then, determined to show him how good of a student I was. This song was much faster than the previous, and we were having a great time. Eventually, we were competing with each other, trying to catch the other off guard, just as much as we were dancing together. It felt like hours were flying by even though it was only minutes.

Soon enough, the song reached the bridge and everything slowed down. Couples all around us moved in closer to each other. Even Mello, who had been playfully dancing with his back to me, moved back so that he was flush with my chest.

Not for the first time that night, my heart felt like it was performing acrobatics within my chest cavity.

I tried to focus on the lyrics; I tried to rein myself in.

"Dream me, oh Dreamer, down to the floor… Open my hands and let them weave onto yours…"

My hands were resting on his hips, and I smiled as he tangled his fingers together with mine.

"Feel me, Completer, down to my core… Open my heart and let it bleed onto yours…"

The line of his throat was pale and ethereal under the black lights as he tipped his head back and rested it against my shoulder. I swallowed harshly around the sudden obstruction in my throat.

"Feeding on fever, down on all fours…"

I couldn't tell you who leaned in first.

"'Show you what all that howl is for."

He tasted like chocolate – and I really shouldn't have been surprised.

Once again, I found myself thinking in clichés because suddenly all else ceased to exist. The club, the crowd, the music – it all faded to unpleasant static. It wasn't like my heart had exploded or anything, but more that –

Okay, fuck – I'll just put it bluntly. I was finally kissing Mello and the world could just fuck off.

I forgot that the world doesn't usually listen to me.

Caught up as we were, neither of us had noticed the issue that had developed as a jealous boyfriend had come across his girlfriend dancing with another man. We did not see the drunken exchange of insults, the shoving, the girl pulling on their arms as she pleaded with them to stop – and we especially did not see the first punch that was thrown. This all came to light, however, when the other man stumbled backwards into us.

Mello and I were knocked apart, and we just stared at each other, dazed.

The man didn't even glance at us as he rubbed at his jaw and spit before stalking back over to where the boyfriend stood with his fists ready.

The damage was done.

Already, I could hear the commotion as a bouncer moved through the crowd. Mello must have heard this, too, because he nodded at me to follow him before disappearing into the throng of people, making his way towards the back exit. I followed him, lips feeling like they were burning.

To everyone else, nothing had changed. They were still young, the music was still playing, and they would dance, and dance, and dance. But as I moved through the crowd, pushing and shoving as I felt the walls caving in and the blood pounding in my ears, the beat took on a different meaning. The conversation I had had with Wedy that day in the park repeated in my head over and over, punctuated by the words I had said as a mantra all these years. They were the words I had told myself when Mello had broken up with his first girlfriend all those years ago, the words that I had told myself the day Mello had shown up to school for the first time in leather, the words that I had told myself whenever we had to change in the same room and I averted my eyes, and the words that I had told myself that day that I thought I was going to kiss him.

Because that's what had happened that day in his basement; what had actually happened just seconds ago – for real.

And the words bounced around in my head, slamming against my skull along with the hammering bass: Just a friend. Just a friend. Just. A. Friend.

Mello was waiting for me in the open doorway, and I shivered as the cold air hit my skin. I felt like I had a fever – I must have a fever.

The ending lyrics of the song followed me out the door:

"Tell your grandma and your mama, too: it's true, true, true, true… We're howling forever."

I let the heavy door slam behind me with a bang.

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

I couldn't remember much of the drive back to town. It was cold when we'd first gotten into the car, and Mello spent much of the time fiddling with the heat settings. I tried to turn the radio on at one point, but Mello hit the dial not even two seconds afterwards.

We sat in a silence that I would have given anything to fill. I didn't, though, and in my peripheral vision I could see him sitting board straight with his jaw clenched. I knew the feeling; my knuckles were white with how tightly I was grasping the wheel.

My mind wandered.

I couldn't remember much of the drive back to town – but still here we were, sitting in Mello's driveway with the lights off. I know it should have worried me, but it didn't. I was suddenly very tired.

I had been staring ahead at the dashboard this entire time, and I let my eyes fall shut as I heard the whisper of cloth and the shift of movement as something in the cup holder was disturbed. A weight settled in my lap, then, and I wasn't even surprised; although, perhaps I should have been. Hands coaxed my chin upwards. I opened my eyes.

Mello was there before me, straddling my lap and burning his gaze into my own. His expression was defiant, desperate, and I knew this look. How many times had I seen this look after he had failed to receive the mark he'd wanted on a test, just before he lashed out? It was a look that betrayed his need to be loved, his need to be wanted, his need to win.

I placed my hands over his and didn't resist when he pressed his lips against my own.

I am selfish, too.

Something tangible in the air snapped, and suddenly the kiss became more insistent, and I was twisting my fingers in his hair, and he was smirking against my lips. I reached down to take off my seatbelt, and when he leaned back to allow me room, his back pressed against the horn. I jerked my head in surprise at the sound, and he took the opportunity to press kisses along my jaw, snickering all the while.

I suddenly found my voice as I felt his hand sneak beneath my shirt. "Mells, stop." Not forceful enough.

"No," he purred, not listening to me. I wouldn't have listened to me either; my tone of voice gave the impression that I wanted the exact opposite.

I needed to stop this before we did something that we would really regret.

I could have said a number of things here: "Now's not the time", "I'm not quite ready for this", "I need time to think"… Instead, I said the worst possible thing.

The truth.

"Mihael, stop." As if using his real name wasn't enough, I said, "I have a girlfriend."

Mello froze so abruptly that it was almost comical. He reeled back as if I had slapped him; for all the hurt held in his expression, I might as well have. That soon vanished, however, as he schooled his features back into a neutral expression; the stiff way that he held his jaw was the only thing that betrayed otherwise.

He slid back over to his side, and I felt suddenly cold again.

"Mells," I called to him as he got out of the car. He looked up at me, waiting, but when I opened my mouth, nothing came out. He shook his head and closed the door.

As I watched him walk up to his house with his head held high, I realized that maybe I had done something that I would soon regret, anyways.

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

I drove around town for a while after I left Mello's house. When I finally got back home, the porch light was still on, but all of the lights inside were off. I got my stuff out of the trunk and forced one foot in front of the other, feeling as if I was dragging myself through mud.

I heard the sound of soft breathing as I walked past the living room. I peeked in and, sure enough, my mother had fallen asleep on the couch while she had been waiting for me to come home.

As if I didn't feel enough like a shitty person.

I laid a blanket over her before going up to my room. I set my goggles on my night table and then threw the rest of the clothes to fall where they may; it was debatable as to whether I would pick them up tomorrow. Finally, I collapsed into bed, still wearing the leather pants and dress shirt – and my boots.

I don't care.

I shoved my head beneath my pillow and took solace in the darkness, where I could pretend for a while that today had never happened.