They are on the road again.
It's not safe and Hunter knows it. He shouldn't drive that kind of distances after a party night. It's quiet in the Jeep, he has turned off the music hours ago.
Shawn's sleeping in the passenger seat, his head lolling from one side to the other. Golden strands of hair sticking to his sweaty face and his mouth is slightly agape.
"You bastard," Hunter mutters and glances at Shawn, "should've left you for dead in the hotel."
He doesn't mean it. Never could and that makes him angry again.
It's already sundown again. But only a few rose-red drops of light seep through the monstrous grey clouds. It might be a real sight but he is in no condition to appreciate nature.
All he does, is watching Shawn's face. Worn out and wan. And how the light makes him look beautiful again. He tears his gaze away, focuses on the road. He remembers the last evening.
"Don't fucking touch my drink!" Shawn cried and pushed Hunter's hand away.
"What the fuck?" Hunter shouted against the hammering music in the crowded club. The smaller man before him started grinning like a lunatic.
"You don't wanna drink that," he said and pointed at a small pill that was swimming in the amber fluid. A chuckle escaped Shawn's mouth and he leaned in closer. "Or do you?" His voice dropped down an octave and a shiver ran down Hunter's back. All he did was shaking his head. The next moment Shawn drowned the whiskey in one go and slammed the glass back on the table.
Half an hour later Shawn was dancing on a table with a young redhead lady. And Hunter caught himself watching his best friend and not the girl. How he moved in his too tight black jeans. Hunter sat in a dimly lit corner, nipping on his White Russian. Then Shawn went down on his knees, grabbing the girl's hips and kissing her navel. His tongue trailing a wet line southwards.
"My god," Hunter muttered under his breath and had to tear away his gaze.
"You watched me dancing," Shawn all but whispered into his ear, lips brushing his ear-lobe.
"I was watching the girl," Hunter denied and had to wrap one arm around his friend to keep him from stumbling.
"Sure," Shawn said and smirking spilled his drink all over Hunter's shirt.
"Do you want another?" A blond girl with shiny red lips appeared next to Shawn and devoured both of them hungrily with a glance, before Hunter could even start shouting at Shawn.
"Definitely, honey," Shawn cooed and put one arm around her waist and the other around Hunter.
They walked to the bar and she ordered their drinks. The moved on to the table at which Hunter had sat alone before.
Hunter supposed she was pretty, but all he could think was how he hated her glaring at Shawn with those heavy fake lashes and how close her lips were to Shawn's. She whispered something in his ear and he nodded. Pursing his lips into a smirk he flipped through his wallet and gave her a hundred dollar bill. Then bowed down to the table, as she put something on the dirty, black surface. She rolled the bill and as Hunter moved he could see the white line of powder.
As if Shawn's ego hadn't been big enough already.
Hunter wanted to grab his hair and pull him away, but he didn't. Instead he watched. Shawn throwing his head back, pursing his lips, snuffling, then wiping the rest of the cocaine away with his index finger. The blonde did the same and gave him back the bill. He put it in his wallet, grinned and slipped a hand under her short skirt. She threw her arms around him, nearly hit Hunter in the face and kissed him passionately.
Hunter wanted to tear the bitch apart. And again he didn't and watched how these two made out right in front of him. Shawn's left arm still hanging loosely around his waist. Then he pushed back against Hunter, the girl followed, so Shawn was between them. Hunter had his back against the wall and Shawn's ass against his … well. He'd rather not think about that.
The girl didn't seem to mind their three-way constellation, though her focus laid on Shawn.
When she slid her hand down his body, Shawn threw his head back against Hunter's chest. His breath hot on Hunter's neck. His moan making him shiver.
He needed to get the fuck away from them.
He just pushed, grabbing Shawn's hips in the process and then pulling him away from that bitch.
"Time to go, buddy, we've a long journey ahead 'morrow."
"'the hell do you think you're doing?" Shawn was shouting at him as he dragged him out of the club, barely managing to get their jackets on the way out.
"Leave me the fuck alone if you don't wanna party, you damn— "
"Watch your fucking mouth," Hunter bellowed back at his best friend. That shut him up.
"We're going back to the hotel now," he said.
He opened the door to Shawn's room and they both went inside. Had to keep an eye on that bastard or he sure as hell would go out drinking again. And Hunter really didn't want to think about where Shawn would end up then. Probably somewhere on the floor. Bloody. Or in a random chick's bed.
"You go to sleep now, Shawnie," Hunter grumbled and pushed him in the right direction.
"Love it when you get all tough," Shawn replied with an inviting quirk of his eyebrow. He let himself fall on his bed.
"No, I'm serious, you go to bed now," he said, not looking at his best friend.
Shawn was back on his feet in a second, grabbing Hunter's face with both hands and kissing him furiously as he had done backstage once. And like then, Hunter pushed him away.
"Take some damn sleeping pills if that's the only way to put you down," he growled. Shawn stepped closer again, placing one hand on his chest. He looked up at him and for a second Hunter got lost in those fucking beautiful eyes.
"But Hunt, there's another way," Shawn whispered, smiling like the arrogant bastard he was.
And hell, Hunter was nothing but a man.
So he leaned in, Shawn on his toes and they kissed again. This time he didn't push him away. This time he opened his moth and pushed his tongue into Shawn's mouth. The Texan's arms around his neck and then they were stumbling towards the bed.
They didn't fuck. They just grabbed at each other and touched and touched. It felt strange and good and Shawn moaned at his neck. Then Shawn was underneath him and he between Shawn's thighs and they ground against each other. Couldn't keep himself from twisting his fingers in Shawn's hair and sucking on his neck while Shawn whispered obscenities into his ear.
The Texan's one hand was on his back, his fingernails leaving red marks on his skin — when did he loose his shirt? — and Shawn's other hand in his pants, jerking him off. Then he was coming, trembling, his orgasm ripping through him. A second later he heard Shawn climaxing, felt the wetness on his fingers.
They didn't clean up. Stayed in the mess they had made and Hunter was dizzy, sleep clawing at the back of his consciousness. He fell back into the pillow and Shawn turned on the TV.
No one said a word, but he put his arm around Shawn's waist. The older man didn't respond. A repetition of a talk show was on now and the hysteric voices replaced the silence.
Sleep came to him eventually.
The next morning he had to literally shake Shawn awake.
"Took some sleeping pills," he mumbled, "fucking headache. Fucking tired, fucking fuck off." His voice slurred and Hunter rather guessed than understood what Shawn was saying.
"You can sleep in the car, asshole," was all he replied and dragged Shawn, Shawn's bag and his own damn bag outside.
His heart is still beating fast and hard against his rib-cage when he looks at Shawn.
He doesn't know what to make out of the last night. He doesn't know how to act when Shawn wakes up. Should they talk about it? Maybe they should, but he doubts they will. He's still angry, too.
It makes him feel sick when he thinks that all of it was perhaps just the outcome of drugs and alcohol. That perhaps Shawn will just ignore it, never talk about it again. Or maybe he doesn't even remember. Hunter swallows hard. He had known Shawn was high and he had given in anyway.
He doesn't know whether he wants it to happen again. That is of course a lie.
The grey has turned to anthracite and will soon be an all black and starless sky.
"Hey," a tired, scratchy voice pulls him back to reality.
Hunter glances to Shawn. "Huh?"
"Thanks for taking care of me. Appreciate it."
Hunter's not sure whether he wants to wipe Shawn's dirty smile off with his fists or his lips. Probably both.
"Shut the fuck up and go back to sleep," he growls. Shawn chuckles low in his throat and closes his eyes again.
Still doesn't know how the hell this is going to continue. He feels a tight knot in his stomach when he thinks about the pills and the cocaine and that this is his best friend. This can't work out now, can it? But who knows that.
All he knows is, he's gonna take care of that bastard. And he wants to kiss him again.