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Death of a Bachelor

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There were tons of things running through Adrian's head right now. The color of his hair. The length of his fringe. The fact that he had scars all over his body. He'd thought for sure that tonight would be the night he made a difference to the world. Nope. Not at all. He was just sitting in his room doing absolutely nothing for absolutely no one. That's when he received a text, from Sebastian Michaelis, the most infamous playboy around. It was a simple message that read "Tonight we are victorious." 

Adrian didn't reply. 

He sighed. He'd just experienced a rather terrible breakup. He thought for sure the guy was something worthwhile, clearly he was wrong. His phone buzzed in his hand again. "Champagne pouring over us, all my friends were glorious c;" it read. There was a picture of Sebastian holding a champagne bottle over his head pouring it all over himself and others. He was smiling, laughing, clearly drunk and enjoying himself. Next to him was a fellow with hair a nice shade of blue. A beauty mark under his one eye. Adrian sighed. They were having the time of their lives. Meanwhile, he was sitting in his room doing absolutely nothing of importance. 

Adrian frowned and drew a bath for himself. He threw his phone to the furthest end of the bathroom and poured bubbles into his heated water. Fully prepared to turn himself into a soup. "I don't understand why this is called 'Double Bubble Disco Queen' if anything it's just moderate bubbles. Not enough bubbles. Not nearly enough bubbles to satisfy my longing for bubbles," Adrian frowned and sunk into the tub. He blew bubbles out of his mouth into the water. His bath severely lacking in bubbles, as he had complained about, and his energy to exist even less existent. 

Adrian's phone vibrated violently. He nearly jumped out of the bath. He threw his phone to the other side because he didn't expect to get any more messages. Now he was being called? What the actual flying fuck?! Social anxiety and the need to please people built up inside him the longer his phone vibrated. Fuck him up. He got out of the bathtub and ran to the phone. He picked it up, only to have it drop, so he picked it up again. After finally being able to hit the green circle for 'answer' Adrian had too much adrenaline rushing through his bloodstream. Equivalent to a person that nearly started a war by pressing the red button to a nuclear bomb accidentally

"Hey," Sebastian was speaking too loudly. Adrian could hear the sound of music and cheering. "I'm headed to the guillotine, there is still time for you to come join us, you know?" he offered. "I know you've been going through a rough time but that's the perfect excuse to get wasted!"

"Guillotine??" Adrian gasped. What kind of party was this?

"Yeah, yeah, someone made a small guillotine and now they are chopping up watermelons with it. It's hella fun to watch the red juice get on everyone's clothes. Fuck!" Adrian didn't know what Sebastian was yelling 'fuck' for, but he figured it was pretty important because a ruffling noise and a couple of screams trailed out of the phone. 

"Sorry about that," Sebastian apologized, "one of the blades kind of flew."

"Oh my gods, are you alright?" Adrian rushed around his apartment frantic to find a towel and some clothes. He couldn't leave the drunk Sebastian at a party like this alone or he'd wind up killed. Who the fuck has a guillotine at their party??? With a bunch of drunks??? Worst idea ever. 

"Pretty sure no gods exist, Adrian," Sebastian snickered. "But I am not injured. Can't say the same for the others here though," he let out a devilish cackle. "Could be watermelon, could be blood, who knows? All I can smell right now is the scent of alcohol and havoc. My two favorite things. Anyways, are you coming or not?" 

"I can't leave you there alone! You're bound to get messed up in something!" Adrian frowned. He closed the door to his apartment (yes, he did forget to drain the bathtub but there were other things to worry about right now). 

"I'll text you the address," Sebastian said, hanging up. Adrian frowned. He fumbled for his keys and prayed to the gods that he had enough data to use google maps. Because fuck GPS. 

Arriving at the scene was difficult, for a number of reasons, but he finally got there. Havoc. Mahem. Tons of people fucking. Tons of people drinking. Tons of people drinking and fucking at the same time. Oh, look, a barfer. Ew. Adrian avoided that with a hot sidestep. He didn't have time to dry his hair so he put it in a loose braid and decided to wing it. He wasn't here to fuck people. He was here to make sure Sebastian didn't lose his head playing with blades.

That's when he saw him. Straight out of the cinema. Lights muted compared to the one currently on him. Noise deafened. Adrian was bewildered, captured by the man standing there. He didn't even realize Sebastian was next to him. All he saw was the blue of his hair, the mark under his eye, the fact that his aura seemed above everyone else. The button-up shirt at a t-shirt level party. He was holding a fucking champagne glass while everyone had solo cups. Clearly he was high class, with skin as cool as Steve McQueen, a gaze as mighty as, well, royalty obviously

"Ah, you must be Adrian," his voice a silky smooth, not at all affected by the numerous amounts of alcohol he likely consumed. "Sebastian said you might need some cheering up. Glad you could make it," he smiled. Adrian shivered. All concept of why he had arrived at this party was gone. Forget Sebastian. All he wanted right now was to be fucked by this man. Right here, anywhere, anytime, all of the time, he wanted to be fucked, by this man in particular. 

"You're shivering, are you cold, or," amusement in his voice. Adrian shook his head. He was most certainly not cold. How could he be cold with the sheer amount of heat radiating off of this man? Not to mention the naked bodies around him in this enclosed space. (The party was outside, mind you, but there were so many people here that there wasn't much walking space).

He leaned into Adrian. Their chests touching in the small space that surrounded them. His hair tickling Adrian's face as he whispered in his ear. "Let me be your killer king. It hurts until it stops, the pain of lust that is. We will love until it's not a pain any longer. I'll turn your lust into longing and then into love." 

Challenge fucking accepted. Adrian was fully prepared to roll up his sleeves and get down on his knees. The man took a step back. He stepped back as if he knew the watermelon would be clearly aimed at his head. The red fruit dripping down him, making him wet, but his aura screamed 'I'm a killing spree in white.' The whiteness of his shirt turned to pink, but in the darkness of the night, it looked more like blood. He was a murderer with eyes like broken Christmas lights. Hollow and inviting. Dark compared to the bright colorful lights of those around him. He called to Adrian, leading him away, into the unknown. 

Adrian had no idea where they were going or how they'd even gotten there when they did get there. The only focus he had was following the man with blue hair. Was this the sensation Alice felt? Following the white rabbit? There was something about it. Something inviting, thrilling, terrifying. 

"I suppose I should warn you," the man said, taking off his drenched shirt. Was this a hotel? His very home? Adrian didn't ask questions. He wasn't even drunk but his mind certainly failed him. Drunk off of the sweet taste of betrayal, that was a good a feeling as any, in that it didn't feel good at all. 

"My touch," he said, reaching his hand out to grab Adrian's shirt and rip it off, "is black and poisonous and nothing like my punch." He kissed him. A drunk kiss that intoxicated Adrian even more. He wasn't drugged. He was completely sane. And yet, this kiss certainly was a punch to the face. Never in his life had Adrian been so completely attracted to a single entity. 

Movements were so quick and so clean. Time gaps and Adrian ended up naked on the bed. Not a second to think about his scars or his anxiety. His regrets or his remorse or the fact that just a few hours before he was entirely in love with a different person. "I know you need it, do you feel it?" Whether he drink the water of his sanity or drink the wine of this delicious alcoholic man...it was obvious to him which was more intriguing. 

A slight nod of permission granted. Entangled bodies and euphorious moans. Delight flickering within Adrian like a candle in the void. Sex feeling good? Quite the foreign concept. Adrian's existence was meant to please others, not himself. 

"Oh?" the man placed his hand on Adrian's cheek. They still hadn't introduced themselves properly. But, a name was just a name and understanding themselves through skin was far more intimate than a simple conversation. 

Whatever it was that the man intended to say was drowned out by the yelling of a certain Sebastian Michaelis in the crowd, "We gotta turn up the crazy!" The shout caused Adrian to turn his attention elsewhere. Was that window always there? Was Sebastian really just outside? Memories of why he was there at this party in the first place flooded back. Well shit. Sebastian was out there living like a washed-up celebrity. (He certainly was drunk like one). He was shooting fireworks like it's the fourth of July. (Totally a perfectly fine thing to do while drunk btw. Bad Sebastian. You'll ruin the minds of the kids.) Wait. It was the fourth of July. That's exactly why Adrian wanted to avoid being here so damn much. Fuck it all. Someone run him over with a bus already. 

"Until we feel alright, I won't have you looking away," he snickered, grabbing Adrian's chin and drawing him back to the dead of the night. Fireworks? Who's that? Adrian didn't know her. "I'm like a scarf trick, it's all up the sleeve, I taste like magic," he spoke, Adrian followed his hands, and even though he was watching him the entire time he still had no idea where the scarf even came from. Magic, 100% Adrian was convinced this man wasn't human and was simply a dream concocted by himself. He was probably high somewhere at a fourth of July party with absolutely no recognition of sanity left. 

The male pulled the scarf behind Adrian's neck and lifted him up with it. The two entangled again. Was he at the sea? With waves that swallow quick and deep? Someone throw the bait, catch the shark, bleed the water red. Watermelons or not, there were only fifty words for murder...

"And I'm every one of them," the man said the words Adrian had only thought about. Magic? Definitely. His touch was black and poisonous, and nothing like his punch, drunk kiss, drink the water? No, drink the wine. No distractions. No disgraces. Adrian jumped off the cliff into the waters crashing below. He returned the kiss and everything else as well. The entangled mess of despair melted in this stranger's arms. Confidence brimming upon longing, turning into love. Everything he'd said had come true. Fortune teller? Magician? A genie in a bottle? Adrian no longer cared. Tonight he was victorious.