Viscount Streetlove (boyxboy)

[14] Idek.

 As I said in a broadcast message, this chapter is the result of beer so I apologize in advance.

Also there's me cosplaying as Patty to the right. Ignore the knife... Also the bear between my legs is the bear Verger cuddles!

     Lorn, Pat and Verger were in an old abandoned train, the locomotive to be exact. Old, in the sense that it used to function on burning coals.

     The shovel was currently handled by Pat, who was using it as a microphone stand to sing along with Verger, who took it upon himself to take care of his friends' faith by 'controlling' the train. He was surrounded by the control stand with its levers, buttons, dusted screens and switches.

     "Metal wounds not healing! Life's a bitter shame!" they yelled along with the phone. "I'm going off the rails on a crazy train!" headbang headbang headbang. "I'm going off the rails on a crazy train!" [mel to the right]

     Lorn sat in the first wagon, on a seat with the leather on it chipped off and plush spilling out. He was lining a hit on a piece of cardboard carefully, though the task wasn't easy and the reason was the bottle of Jack Daniels by his foot.

     The powder, along with the short straw were procured by Pat. She was obviously corrupted, drinking as much as them and proving to care none about anything in general.

     Once he snorted, Lorn pressed his nostril to the back of his hand and kept sniffing until the powder went all the way in, then gulped. With a sigh, he leaned back and looked out what was left of the window across from him.

     The sky was steadily brightening up, fading from the blackness above to the light blue at the horizon, ending in a trace of yellow hidden behind tall, black buildings that to Lorn looked like tall planks hula-hooping.

     Suddenly, every detail before his eyes came into focus all at once. The unglued corners of the dark maroon wallpapers, the fading black, flowery model on them, the dust on the remaining glass, the fly trailing up a chair, the wrinkles in said chair's leather.

     Lorn leaned forwards, his neck stretched, and sighed deeply before rolling his head. He fisted his hair and tugged at it, the strands that escaped his fingers misinterpreted as sand by his conscience, or lack thereof.

     Then his head found itself tilted towards his friends. They were still partying, the melody fading in and out as if it was sneaking through one ear and leaking out of the other. The scenery wasn't more stable either.

     For a couple of seconds he saw them headbanging, but then he blinked heavily and they were making out. And by the law of contrast, Lorn came to observe how tall and manly his friend stood next to the girl, gripping Patty's waist and leaning into her almost comically, with his chest slightly tilted towards Lorn as if they were posing for a movie poster.

      Then Lorn blinked again and they were rocking as previously, Verger at the control stand and Patty singing at the shovel, but another blink brought their kissing figures back, and he had to observe how well they fit together.

     A shadow contoured Verger's jaw perfectly as it opened and closed, just below his strands of hair so dark they mixed with the background. Patty clung to the sleeveless shirt he had from the hobo, causing more holes to ruin the material.

     It saddened Lorn, for some reason, the fact that Verger wasted all of that alpha potential to let himself be handled by men. Comparing how he looked now, towering above Pat's fragile form, dominating her mouth and swaying after her like a snake, to how he'd look after Lorn would as little as peck his cheek or hug him... his shoulders slightly raised and that sheepish smile that wrinkled his nose...