SPEED!!!!!!!!!!! (crankit) wrote in forgotten_gods, @ 2009-04-06 19:37:00 |
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Entry tags: | speed |
Who: Speed and Damien (DJ) Jameson [npc], Narrative
What: Catching up?
When: Monday Afternoon
Where: Some corner in NYC
Rating/Warning: PG-13. Domestic violence, mentions of drug use. Crappy narrative writing.
Speed began packing up his guitar and stuffing the ten bucks that he'd made into his pockets. It was less about the money these days and more about the release that came from playing for people who didn't know him, had never seen him before, ut stopped for a few moments to share something with him. He thought that was kind of beautiful. He was good at his music, good enough to make it big, but he never had the desire. He loved attention, yeah, but he just though that something would be gone if he tried to become famous. It was his music, his saving grace. It's what got him through rough patches. What got him enough money to make the trek from Cali to New York. It's what helped him pay for his apartment when he got to New York. If the had that Jesus guy for their saviour, then Speed had his music. And his family.
He hitched the guitar over his shoulder and began walking toward the Highway. He should have heard the roar of the motorcycle, but his mind was wandering. He was remembering California. So when he felt it, he figured it was just a little nostalgia. When he turned and saw him, he thought that he was just a little too high. It took a few moments for it to set. All at once it all came at him: The smell of leather and gasoline and cheap but good cologne. The feeling of rough stubble against his cheek, the burn of desire. But most of all, above all the other feelings, Speed remembered the pain of being thrown up against a wall, of being screamed at, at having broken bones constantly.
"Seth, you little bitch!" His face was red and pressed nose to nose with Speed's. His breath stunk of liquor and his fingers were pressing so tight into Speed's arms that he could practically feel the bruise blossoming up on his pale skin.
Speed backed up against the brick wall behind him as DJ climbed off of the bike. He could have ran, he could have fought back. He was an immortal and DJ was weak compared to him, really. But Speed had loved him, or at least he thought he had. He loved him enough to stick around and heal his wounds in the quiet of their room after the mind blowingly angry sex. But he finally had to get out. Every facade of love had started to fall away and he was sick and tired of having to cook and sell his drug all day, everyday and sell his body almost every night.
"Seth." DJ said quietly, pulling his his helmet off of his head and tucking it under his arm. As he walked closer, Speeds fingernails scrambled at the wall in desperation. So maybe it wasn't love, but he would never be able to hurt DJ. He found himself not able to make his legs move and run away. "Seth." he said again. He winced as DJ raised his hand, but instead of the punch he expected, there was a rough hand rubbing gently at his cheek.
He had a hand wrapped around his throat, squeezing the air out him. And even though he didn't need the air, not really, it still hurt. More emotionally than physically. "Don't act like you don't like the pain, fucker." said DJ, smacking him with his free hand. Speed fingers scrambled at his thick fingers half heartedly. He usually did like the pain, but not when it was genuine. Not when the guy he loved was trying to choke the life out of his.
Without realizing it, Speed flinched from the touched and whimpered. He wished he'd told one of his brothers where he was going. He wished his body would obey him and carry him far, far, away. He wished he could pull his cell out of his pocket and dial the Highway. But he couldn't. All he could do was shake and scratch at the wall behind him like it would somehow take him away. "Baby, where'd you go?" DJ asked in his rough voice. Speed could smell the leather coming from his Hell's Angels jacket. "I mean obviously you came here, but why? We were worried about you." He leaned down to kiss him and he let it happen. He didn't kiss back. He left his lips pressed tightly together. There weren't the same sparks that came when he kissed Mari or Trip or any of his family. It was flat and honestly that scared Speed more than the thought of a bloody nose or broken ribs.
"Brothers." said Speed in a shaking voice. "I- I'm staying with my brothers." His back was flat against the wall. DJ frowned. Speed didn't like it when he frowned. Frowning usually meant punching.
"I didn't know you had brothers, baby." He ran his finger through Speeds hair, and out of absolute habit, he hummed at the feeling, even though he was positive he would soon be ripping his hair out.
"F-foster brothers. And sisters. I-I gotta meet my brother, he'll get worried." he said, taking a tiny step away. He couldn't breathe without getting a nose full of cologne and he was starting to feel weak in the knees. He whimpered quietly as DJ's fingers tightened in his hair, keeping him from getting any further away.
"Yeah we don't want that, do we?" he said and Speed could hear the anger creeping into his voice and pulled away just a little. "Not when you've been missing for the past few months, we wouldn't to worry anyone." He tugged Speed close to him and wrapped a rough hand around his wrist.
"Damien, please." he muttered, nails scratching at his hands like so many times before. "Hurts!" he whimpered. And like a light switch DJ was calm again. His hands were reaching in his pocket. Speed inched away along the wall, shaking as tears welled up in his eyes.
"Alright, alright, Sethie. I'm going to school here now. NYU." he said in a voice that was meant to be but was anything but soothing. "Stop!" he said harshly when he saw Speed moving away and he did without a thought. He pulled a peice of paper out of his pocket and handed to Speed along with a pen. "Write your number down for me." And he did. He didn't know why, but he did and he pushed it back toward DJ with a shaking hand. He closed his eyes as he pet his hair again. He needed to get out.
He heard him say his goodbyes and promise a call but still his eyes remained closed and his back pressed to the cool wall. He heard him offer him a ride home but he said nothing. Finally, he heard the motorcycle turn on. He heard DJ speed away. He sucked in a deep breath and slowly slid to the ground, held his guitar close to him, and shook with the sobs he'd been holding back.