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It had only been four hours since they had arrived, and Michael had already decided that he didn't like Santa Carla.
Truth be told he didn't even want to move in the first place, but he knew how difficult it had been for his mother to move out and search for a better life for them, so Michael had tried to sound as enthusiastic as possible when his mother had suggested that he and Sammy go out to the boardwalk that night.
"Who knows, maybe you'll even find yourself a girl." She had told him, in hope of making the new city seem more appealing.
'Yeah, right...'
He had nodded, blushing and hoping no one would notice his usual lack of enthusiasm regarding the topic. That was a conversation he wasn't ready to have yet.
They had headed out to his bike and ridden through the cold night, the breeze distracting Michael from his sulking.
~
The boardwalk proved to be exactly what Michael had expected it to be: a tourist trap and nothing more.
Sure, it had some nice shops, but Michael knew well they couldn't afford to waste any money at the moment.
Sammy, on the other hand, ignored that completely and was already lost inside a comic shop.
They had agreed Michael would collect him later and drive them back home. Until then, Michael decided there was only one entertaining thing he could do for free: people-watch.
Since he wasn't particularly interested in eyeing girls in revealing beach outfits, Michael knew he'd be looking out for the weirdos, those who stood out.
He had already seen some of them that afternoon when they stopped for gas: punks, hippies, junkies. But Michael was soon to realize it was at night that the real freaks came out.
One of said freaks was quick to catch his attention. A biker.
The guy was leaning on a wall, the wind running through his long black hair and his darker complexion standing out in the crowd of orange-tanned bodies.
Just like Michael, he too was looking around, his dark eyes scanning through the crowd as in search of something or someone, and Michael found himself hoping the stranger would look in his direction.
Despite the chill breeze of the night, he wore no shirt, just a worn-out leather jacket and a lot of long necklaces that dangled down on his bare, smooth chest. The cold didn't seem to bother him, and Michael was fascinated by that.
There was something intriguing about the way he looked, but it was his composure that made him stand out to Michael.
He didn't look disinterested, rather contemplating, as if he were superior to all people around him.
To say Michael was drawn to him insanely would have been an understatement.
To Michael, he looked nothing short of a God.
He felt a deep, instinctive pull luring him towards the man, telling him he had to walk up to him.
Guided by his senses, Michael was on his way to approach the stranger, then he reconsidered it.
What if the guy was dangerous?
Michael didn't even know him, and he didn't look too friendly either.
'Damn my fascination for bad boys!'
He might get killed on his first day in the 'murder capital of the world'.
Against his better judgment, Michael trusted his gut feeling assuring him that it was safe to approach the stranger.
Nothing bad would happen to him, worst case scenario he'd get punched for being a fucking fag.
Whatever, nothing he hadn't been through before. The handsome stranger was well worth the risk.
Michael collected all his courage and walked up to him.
As soon as he saw Michael approaching, the stranger turned to face him, looking at Michael with an inviting, yet predatory smile.
Michael gulped but tried to stay cool, that mischievous expression already affecting him more than he wanted to admit.
He got closer, sat on the bench right next to the stranger and, for a while, none of them spoke.
"You're new here." He simply said, his eyes never leaving Michael's.
He had a very deep soothing voice, and somehow Michael felt safer already.
And although his was a statement and not a question, Michael felt compelled to answer anyway.
"Well, yes." He sounded surprised, and the stranger smiled, lowering his head.
Michael's heart almost skipped a beat.
The stranger's smile was beautiful; heartfelt and genuine, and Michael found himself smiling back, fear far from his heart now.
"I'm Dwayne, by the way"
The stranger said, leaning towards him and holding out his hand to Michael.
'Great, you didn't even introduce yourself! Fuck.'
"Oh, Michael. I'm Michael, that's my name." He said awkwardly. He wanted to punch himself for how nervous he must have sounded.
Instead, Michael reached out to Dwayne's hand, and a chill ran through his spine.
Dwayne's skin was freezing cold.
After their introduction, there was a moment in which neither of them knew what to say, but the raven haired never once broke eye contact and never seemed uncomfortable in their silence.
"Was it that obvious, that I'm not a local?" Michael wondered, tying his best to initiate a conversation.
'Is it my clothes? My shoes? My hair maybe'
Dwayne smirked and there was a glowing in his eyes. Michael felt as if his gaze could penetrate his soul.
Dwayne got away from the wall and started circling around Michael, running his hands almost imperceptibly on Michael's shoulders and upper back, sending shivers to the brunette's spine.
"Don't worry." He said softly, leaning down to whisper in Michael's ear. "Your clothes are fine." He chuckled, but it wasn't a malicious laugh.
Michael realized his concerned glance at his shirt must have been much more obvious than he intended it to be for Dwayne to pick it up that quickly.
Dwayne stopped in front of him, then leaned down and put his arms on the bench right around Michael's shoulders. They were face to face and, with Dwayne looking at him with that almost predatory gaze, Michael felt like he was falling for the stranger more and more.
It would have been so easy for Michael to close the distance between them and kiss him, but he was paralyzed by Dwayne's gaze.
"Let's just say that locals know better than to try and get our attention."
Michael felt Dwayne's hot breath on his neck and shivered quite visibly.
His voice was shaking too as he spoke, almost too intrigued to be afraid.
"And why is that?"
He also wanted to know who else Dwayne was referring to, but didn't dare to ask.
Despite the subtle threat in Dwayne's words, Michael couldn't help but feel slightly aroused by the whole situation.
"We're dangerous, Michael." He said mellifluous.
God how he loved hearing the stranger say his name in that sweet way.
"Do you think you could handle it? Do you think you could handle me?"
Despite not knowing him in the slightest and knowing how dangerous the stranger could be, that feeling deep inside of Michael, that side of him that longed for Dwayne, was ready to answer that yes, he could. That he'd do anything for Dwayne, to prove himself worthy.
But before he could answer, somebody approached them.
Michael must have been too focused on Dwayne to hear their footsteps, but was made aware of their presence when a loud growl echoed behind them.
"Dwayne!"
The voice sounded commanding, with a hint of anger, and it scared the shit out of Michael.
Both of them turned around, slowly.
If Dwayne had noticed Michael's tightening grip on his arm, he didn't seem to mind.
Then Michael saw him.
The man who had spoken looked just as imposing and intimidating as Michael had expected him to. He wore a black trenchcoat, the dark of his clothes contrasting with his bleached blonde hair. His malicious smirk made Michael's blood run cold.
Michael would have been afraid to stare at him for so long, but the blonde wasn't looking at him.
He was looking at Dwayne, and he didn't seem pleased.
Dwayne stood up and faced them, his body shielded Michael almost, and Michael got up too, clinging to him as if his life depended on it. In that moment, Michael felt the urge to never let go of him, ever.
Close to the blond stood two other guys, looking just as menacing as he did, just less composed and much wilder.
Michael didn't have any other word to describe the crazy look in their eyes, a matching expression of amusement with just a hint of sadism.
The shorter one stood closer to the one who spoke, the obvious leader of the gang. He kept biting nervously into a leather glove and looking between the leader, Dwayne, and Michael.
The tall one had a remarkable blonde mane, he'd fit in with any glam band Michael had seen on television.
He didn't look as prone to violence as the other two did, but had their same poorly-contained excitement in his eyes.
The two of them stood still, but exchanged amused glances.
Dwayne and the leader never broke eye contact and to Michael it seemed they went on minutes without even blinking.
Dwayne's look was a challenge, both were, in this weird staring contest of theirs.
After what felt like an eternity, Dwayne spoke, not moving and still staring at the blond.
"To answer your question, they're the ones I was talking about before."
There was now a big proud grin on the leader's face.
'That means he's with them, right? They won't hurt us then. Thank God!'
"I get now why people are usually scared of you."
Michael had whispered it right in Dwayne's ear, but the other three seemed to have heard it just fine.
Michael tensed, afraid of having offended them.
They looked at him gravely for just a second, then started chuckling.
The tension was broken as the leader walked towards them.
Dwayne moved and Michael was forced to let go of him. The leader was now facing him and Michael couldn't help feeling naked and exposed without Dwayne.
Michael didn't even realize how much his presence made him feel confident and secure until he got away, but tried to act cool.
The blond looked him up and down and then nodded in approval.
"It's a real pleasure to meet you, but I'm afraid we'll have to go now."
"David," came Dwayne's voice from behind him, "I'm sure I can join you in a short while, there's no rush after all."
"We must go now, Dwayne!" The blond growled and made it clear he wasn't asking, he was ordering.
Dwayne just turned to him with a pleading look in his eyes.
The leader shook his head lightly, disappointment clear on his face, then gestured for the others to follow him.
He took a step then turned and stared at Michael dead in the eyes.
"We'll meet again, Michael."
The others walked away and Michael saw them getting on their bikes next to the beach. But they didn't ride away. They were waiting.
Dwayne watched them and the hesitation was plain on his face. He looked down, fidgeting, then turned to face Michael.
"Meet us here tomorrow night, okay?"
It was more a pleading than an order, but Michael knew that at this point he'd had done anything Dwayne had asked of him without questions.
Michael nodded softly, sad to see Dwayne go so suddenly. He stood there and watched him walk away.
Dwayne joined his gang, got on his bike and they rode away.
Michael waved at them and stared at the bikes' lights until he couldn't distinguish them anymore.
He was alone once again, and felt lonelier than ever.
"Dwayne" he repeated, letting the name roll on his lips.
He liked it.
It was just then, as he stood alone on the boardwalk, that Michael realised he had never told David his name.