Monster [m/m]

Chapter Four

"You look like shit."

Aiden gives Angelique a look of disgust, before going back to checking in his radio. "I just haven't been sleeping well."

"Not getting your rocks off or something?" Angelique sucks on the straw of her juicebox, smirking around it. "Heard you got into a fight with Eric."

"Fuck off, Angel," he groans, rubbing his eyes. "I don't wanna talk about it." Finishing with putting away his equipment, he signs out in the employee book. "All I'm gonna say is we need a bar night."

Angelique snorts, kicking him lightly in the leg. "Okay, dude. Need a ride home?"

"Yeah, sure." It's dark out and most of the other employees have gone home already. And, hey, any excuse to avoid the bus.

Sucking out the last of her juice, Angelique tosses the box and leads the way through the gift shop. "There's another party this weekend, different crowd. Interested?"

Aiden shrugs, even though Angelique can't see him. "Maybe." The door swings shut behind him, and he watches Angelique pull out her keys from her bag. "If it's anything like the last one, then sure."

She glances over her shoulder, gravel crunching under her boots. "Oh, yeah? What happened last night?"

That earns a smirk and a shrug. "Just be glad you didn't go into the basement."

"Anonymous basement sex? Aiden, you animal." She presses the button to unlock her little blue convertible and slides her bag off her shoulder as they reach it. "There'll be guys there, and I'm sure you can convince at least one of them to get into your pants."

Snorting, Aiden casts a last glance around the dimly lit parking lot, before yanking open the car door and sliding in. As soon as Angelique turns the key, pop music blasts through the cranked interior.

"Jesus, Angel, really? How can you listen to this shit?" He reaches for the radio, but Angelique smacks away his hand.

"My car, my music." She grins widely at him, white teeth flashing in the dark.

"You do this on purpose, don't you," Aiden says, buckling his seatbelt.

"Yes, Aiden, because the world revolves around you."

The line of trees in front of them is illuminated when Angelique turns on the lights, and then they're peeling out of the lot in a spray of gravel. Aiden slouches in his seat and looks out the window.

Dusty Springfield's voice suddenly cuts through the crap spewing from Angelique's radio, prompting Aiden to drag his phone from his jeans. He looks at the number, but doesn't recognise it. After briefly considering ignoring it, he shrugs and answer.

"Who is this?"

"Hi, Aiden? This is Clark."

Aiden squints. Who the fuck is—oh. Right. "Um, hey. What's up?"

"I got your number from Marie. I hope you don't mind." His tone hints that he knows Aiden doesn't mind. Smug enough to choke on, even over the phone.

"It's fine."

"Great. Are you free tonight? I'd like to see your work."

Aiden blinks, stares at the trees flying by outside. Angelique's singing along (badly) to whatever the hell's playing on the radio. "Uh..." He glances at her from the corner of his eye. "My workshop's in my apartment."

"That's handy. Where do you live?"

Briefly, Aiden considers telling him to fuck off, like he'd do with any other guy he didn't want to fuck. But...this is an editor for New Art. He's gotta be at least kinda friendly. Not like he has any plans, anyway.