Here you are! Chapter 2!

Chapter two: New Lives, Old friends

He looked down at his Rolex………half past nine. He didn’t really know what he was doing there………it was like he HAD to go. He left his wife, a huge home………a Lexus and the career he worked so desperately hard to achieve. He left it all behind in a whirlwind of chaos, telling his wife that he promised he would be back. He couldn’t tell her when, or where he was going, but he promised he’d be back. Whether it be in a body bag or not. He didn’t want her to worry about him………but deep down he knew that the more she knew, the more danger she would be in. That was the only reason he and the others were next on the pecking order………not because they took up with the monster nipping their heels, no………but because they knew it was him who hurt their friend and they fled.

He only came with a carryon bag………a few garments, tooth brush, cologne, deodorant………things that men need. He sat at the airport bar, ordering another drink. He hadn’t changed much in the past six years. He bulked up, had broader shoulders, a more refined jaw. He still had the long blonde hair that he tied back loosely. His ex always used to tell him how much he admired his hair………and that he should take up cross-dressing, but that is another story completely. He wore pale khaki pants and a polo shirt. He had taken off his long pea coat and scarf. He wasn’t quite used to the nippy San Francisco weather quite yet. Kit was born and raised in New Orleans, brought up in a rich family. His father was a doctor and his mother used to be a singer at a local saloon. They were the type who always had the best when it came to everything. They had the most perfect lawn on the block, their house was freshly painted. He had four younger sisters, all of which had as bright a future as he once did. He never once saw his father in anything but a suit during the day and a silk pajama set and house slippers at night. And he never saw his mother without her makeup.

Kit’s accent was thick with the New Orleans’s twang and he got seductive looks from two middle aged women sitting a bar stool away from him. He looked over at them, raising his glass in a half hearted attempt to toast the night, making his golden wedding band excruciatingly clear to them, but as they giggled and turned to one another to gossip………he realized that San Francisco women were different then those he knew in New Orleans.

He didn’t know what to expect from his visit. He knew the others, if they showed up, would be so very different. They wouldn’t be the boys he hugged goodbye to in a dank, dark hospital room six years prior. No, they would be men. He smiled a little, trying to guess what they were doing with themselves. He thought Soren would become a model………or maybe a gym coach. He was always so anal about eating the right foods and treating the body like a goddess. He thought Dante was probably a drug dealer, a pimp or something equally illegal. Either that, or he met some rich, older woman who fell madly in love with him and offered to support him until the day she died so long as he vowed to never leave her side, to love her back and to provide her with regular sex. And then there was Afton………

He couldn’t possibly imagine what Afton was doing with himself. The first thing that came to his mind was that he had gotten himself murdered by a bunch of drunken straight guys who thought he was actually a woman, but that thought quickly passed. Afton wasn’t a transsexual or a drag queen. He merely liked to dress outrageously for the plethora of raves they attended back in their youth and every so often that meant donning a skirt made of tulle and a corset………”fuck me” boots and thigh high fishnet stockings in psychedelic purple.

He found himself getting the beginnings of an erection and decided that it might not be such a good idea to think about him anymore, but the thought of what he did over the years just kept floating back into Kit’s mind. Maybe he didn’t spiral off into a world of sex and drugs. Maybe he didn’t die in some gutter or catch some deadly STD, hooked up in some hospital with tubes down his throat. Maybe he got it all together and went to school and became something marvelous. He had a lovely voice, maybe he became a rockstar. Kit found himself wondering if Afton settled down with one person……….if maybe he started a family. It wasn’t so outrageous, he was lovely with children. Just when the memories started to become painful, as Kit began to feel his chest tightening………a familiar voice floated into his ears.

It was deep, sensual. But behind it laid this playful tease………it was the same voice that answered the phone the first time he called his ex-boyfriend’s apartment phone. This was the man who often was a shoulder to cry on when Afton went out alone, or was caught getting head from some cracked out club kid. This was the man who seduced Kit into ruining his whole relationship in one night of alcohol and sex. He couldn’t believe it………

“Kit?” Kit stiffened, he didn’t expect anyone else’s voice but Soren’s and even then he didn’t really expect him to show up. If he received the same message that they did, he probably barricaded himself in his bed room, “Holy fuck, it’s you.”

Kit turned around and was greeted with open arms and a wide smile. The man before him was just like he remembered. That same goofy smile, same light green eyes………milano skin and a beautiful body. Of course, over the years he had aged a bit but he aged like wine. He was wearing a pair of blue jeans and a burgundy t-shirt. Kit could hardly even stand. All the memories hit him like a ton of bricks. It was like the things he had been blocking out for so long came flooding back like he was back in their apartment, power shut off………huddled together as they froze to death. He could feel the deadly cold and he could feel the embrace of his friends and he found himself near running up to Dante, hugging him tightly. He still smelled the same, they both still smelled the same.

“Wow………” Kit said, hands on Dante’s shoulders, taking a moment just to look at him, “You haven’t changed a bit.”

“Neither have you………” Dante said, winking and ushering him over to a small, sexy little table lit only by a red lantern, “Well, it DOES look like you’ve been workin’ out. So, what’s up with you! By the look of those fancy clothes and that watch………lemme guess. A doctor?” Kit grinned.

“A surgeon.”

“Ahh………well, excuse me,” Dante laughed, ordering a beer from the airport waitress, “Followin’ in daddy’s footsteps, eh?”

“Well, he did pay for me to go to school………I thought I could do him the favor of at LEAST becoming what he paid for, right?”

“Sure. You were always meant to be a doctor Kit. I remember………when we were all livin’ together in New Orleans,” Dante had a bit of an accent as well, “You used to concoct all of these horrible medicines and remedies to heal hangovers and to extend the length of erections and shit like that. They never worked.”

Kit couldn’t help but laugh, “Oh, but they DID work. Or rather, you believed they did.”

“Hell no.”

“Hell YES, Dante. Because I seem to remember you running out of your room half naked one night asking me to make you one of the erection shakes because you were having sex with two French girls and you couldn’t keep it up because you were too busy worrying about So-”

“Kit?” A meek little voice interrupted, “Dante?”

They both looked up and standing before them was Soren, clad in espionage gear that would make any spy proud. He was covered up in a trench coat, a scarf, sunglasses and a hat. Underneath all of that was the boy they once knew, still as tiny and fashionable as ever, but as he sat down, Dante couldn’t help but laugh.

“I can’t believe they let you in this airport dressed like the fuckin’ trench coat mafia!”

“FYI, Dante………”Soren had a way of turning that cute little voice of his, lisp and all, into the bitchiest, most annoying nag possible when need be, “The trench coat mafia didn’t attack airports.”

“Ohhh like I give a shit,” He GRINNED, leaning over to take Soren’s sunglasses off, a familiar blush coming over his cheeks as Dante inched in dangerously close, lips only millimeters away from sealing a gap that was six years shy, “now………are you gonna give me some love?”

“Oh come now, my black friend. The lad needs a moment to take all of this in. As stressful as all this may be, it has been six years since we have seen one another. And YOU Haven’t changed a bit. Even after all this time, the only thing you care about is getting into Soren’s knickers.”

Kit couldn’t even look up, he was too afraid to see him again. For some reason it was as if he was facing some unknown evil and when that trashy English accent echoed into his head, he thought his heart was about to pound out of his chest. The others voice’s greeting the last member of their quartet floated a million miles away as he looked at him starting from his shoes; Ed Hardy slip ons that looked brand new to his torn up designer jeans, loose around his ankles, tight on his thighs and even tighter on his hips where a studded belt was slung low, far below the belt loops. He was leaning over on the back of Soren’s chair, where his tight shirt rose up in the back, Kit could see the beginnings of one of his tattoos. His eyes trailed up his inked arms, a work of art that made him so unique………up the back of his neck where the phrase “to the victor go the spoils” rested below his long, choppy, spiked hair of brown. Pink and blonde highlights raced through it as he let straight bangs fall in front of his sea green eyes, in which he hid behind plastic rimmed Chanel glasses. His long eyelashes framed his loving eyes, so cruel at that moment as they stared back at Kit in this kind of lost amazement.

“Why are you hiding, Kitten?” Afton said, that slight smirk turning into a full out grin, “I can see you.”

Kit took a moment to shake the feelings away………he didn’t know that his ex-boyfriend was just as nervous as he was. Afton never told him of such things. He always put his feelings aside.

“Afton………you’re looking expensive.” Kit finally found the sarcasm to say.

“As are you. So………let me inquire as to your life in the past six years. You are a doctor, I suppose?”

“If you would have arrived on time, you would have learned that YES………Yes I am a doctor.” Kit said, a bit of snap to his voice.

“A surgeon.” Dante said, matter of factly.

Soren smiled over at the others, “Do we want to order drinks? Or should we head back to my house………I have some pizzas on the way and I bought some wine coolers and I thought maybe we could watch some old movies and kinda get to know one another again.”

Everyone was silent for a moment before Dante crossed his arms, “What do we look like to you, Soren? A bunch of flaming FAGGOTS?!” The others couldn’t help but laugh.

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Back at Soren’s house, the men began to get settled. Soren lived in a two bedroom house and one of the rooms he used for an entertainment room.

“Well………” Afton said, flopping down on the couch, “I think you all know where I feel the most comfortable.”

“Why should you get the couch? I don’t wanna sleep on the fuckin’ floor!!” Dante bitched and Afton rolled his eyes.

“I get the couch because I SLEPT on the couch for two years at our old apartment. Its not my fault you don’t have your own room here. You need to bitch and moan to Soren about that. Till then, could you pop in the film, love?” he said playfully to Soren, tapping him on the back of the head with his foot, making the younger boy smile. He thought it fitting to put in the movie that all of them LOVED watching together for many different reasons. Showgirls.

“Anyone want pizza?” He said, bringing a pizza out as Kit finished laying out the blankets and sleeping bags.

“Hell yeah, it looks amazing!” Dante said, grabbing a slice.

“I’ve been trying to watch my girlish figure, but what the hell. Pass it over here,” Afton said, taking his glasses off and setting them down on the side table. He offered Kit a slice, poured them all a glass of wine, flicked off the lights and let the cinema roll. The familiarities were amazing. They sat in the same order, found themselves cracking the same jokes. And Soren was sure that Dante still wore the same cologne. Dante probably changed the least out of all of them. When he wanted to get someone’s attention, he would pat their thigh………it was not violating. Kit had the same New Orlean’s catch phrases. (whistling’ Dixie, and what not). Soren still snorted when he laughed and Afton still popped wood when Dante patted his thigh. They bonded and even before the film ended they found themselves talking like they used to late at night, back in their apartment that had hardly any furniture besides the stacks of bills. Talking in barely more then a whisper.

“I went to beauty school………I raised the money doing makeup,” Soren smiled, “I had no idea what happened to all of you………It took me a long time to face myself in the mirror. I suppose in some way, he saved me from my own vanity. I still have trouble looking at myself in the mirror.”

Dante looked at him and reached forward, lacing his fingers around one end of the scarf. All four of them were silent, even Soren was too shocked to move. It was like an unveiling………it was a stamp that their past actually existed. And as he slid the scarf from around Soren’s slender throat, it falling into his lap. There smiled back the handy work of the one who scrawled the lurid messages on their mirrors. He was known to the papers as “Mirror Mirror”………but the boy’s knew him a little more personal then that.

“Its like………looking directly into the past.” Dante said in a daze, running his fingers over the scar, touching Soren tenderly.

“Come now, Dante………” Afton said, looking over at them lazily, “He did number, that’s for sure, but it could be worse. Soren, you can barely see it. Sure it’s long, but its so thin………and that’s all that matters.”

“He’s self conscious AFTON………” Kit said, crossing his arms, “Leave him alone.”

Soren tied the scarf back around his neck, “I’m not self conscious………I’m just scared because he cant find me………he hasn’t found me until now. I hid the scar to hide the stamp that set me apart from others.”

Dante and Soren continued to make idol chit chat, but Kit and Afton remained silent for a few moments. Kit knew Afton had moved on by his designer clothes and Afton knew Kit had moved on by the ring on his finger. However, such material items doesn’t stop the attraction or the beat of one’s heart when it is truly, madly and forever in love. Kit had to know………he had to ask………

“So Afton.” he said, voice protected, “What is it you do now? Obviously something great………considering those clothes.”

He grinned, “Well Kitters, I’m not a doctor………if that is what you are implying.” Kit gave him a look. The same look that he used to give when he KNEW Afton was lying, “I am an escort.”

“………….an escort.” He said flatly.

“Yes………I go on dates for money. However, as of the late………I have been with only one man around the clock. He pays me by salary to be at his beckon call. He is older but not old and he has a wife that he loves very much. He also has a daughter.”

Kit didn’t know what to say. He had expected something like that but then again, he couldn’t believe that after two years of dating, that Kit was unable to teach Afton a THING about relationships and love. He just threw it all away and gambled it like it was nothing. And NOW, he was gambling with another person’s happiness!! It was like love didn’t exist to him, it was like he didn’t have a soul! It was like-

“come on now, kit,” Dante said, messing up his hair, “What did you expect out of Afton? Did you expect him to be a teacher or an accountant or something?”

“Now Kit………” Afton smiled, “you wouldn’t be jealous now? Not with that pretty ring on your finger………”

He sighed and looked Afton, a feeling of pure hate coming through him. How dare he even question his jealousy! In his eyes, he had every RIGHT to be jealous. Kit had this skill, this gift of looking inside of Afton, tearing him apart, layer by layer………dissecting what made him tick. He knew the first time they met the heartache that this boy would cause him………and there he was, sitting before him as a twenty four year old man. This twenty four year old man who he wanted NOTHING more then to have a life with. But Afton wouldn’t have it. He was unable to commit.

And Afton had this skill of masking his pain and yearning in a perfected smile. The sort where his lips were very faintly curled at their ends, his kind eyes aglow with mock and humor and they stared at one another just like that for moment. Kit assumed he was unABLE to commit……however, Afton was not that deep of a person.

In all truth, none of them were all that deep. They were cliché, they were predictable. Even by the way they slept, they were exactly the same as they were six years prior. Dante, sleeping sitting up………nodding in and out of sleep, only fully letting it claim it after the others were sound in their dreams, he was the protector. Soren’s head rested on his lap as he curled into a little ball, shaking just a little bit, the cautious one. Kit slept without a pillow………he gave his up to make sure everyone else was comfortable. He made sure the doors were locked………the mother hen. And Afton, who scratched his balls as he laid on his back, arm resting across Kit’s chest as he snore………the careless one………all of them had one thing in common, despite their differences. The monster stalking them, waiting outside their door, scratching………hoping to get in. Smelling their fear, and all of them had that fear in the back of their minds. Tonight they were safe………tomorrow was a different story.

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There you go! Hope you liked it.