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It was a Friday night, and Ronan Lynch was bored. He hated being bored. Hated it with a passion.
He cursed crew practice for taking Gansey away for an evening, and the garage for taking Adam for a late night shift.
His sleek grey BMW powered through the streets of Henrietta, searching….for what? For trouble? Fun? Entertainment?
“Don’t get into any trouble Ronan!” Gansey had called as he disappeared out the door with his gym bag
He hadn’t slept in two days and his brain was wrung out like a sponge. His skin itched like there were ants crawling under his skin. if he didnt soothe it with a drink or a pill he was going to lose it. Knuckles white on the steering wheel, he drove faster.
He arrived at Linden, a nightclub far enough outside Henrietta that he wouldn’t be clocked with his shitty fake ID.
The combination of his shaved head, scowl and 6”2 height meant the bouncers didn’t ask questions.
The club was packed to the rafters, bodies pressed in as tightly as they could. A haze of grey smoke hung over the crowd, illuminated by brightly strobing lights.
Thumping electronic music blared from the speakers by the DJ booth as arms waved around in the smoky air.
Battling his way over to the bar, Ronan downed several shots and procured a few brightly coloured pills before walking out into the dancefloor.
His head was rapidly swimming with the hallucinogenic effects as he allowed himself to be buffeted by the heady sweaty crowd. Hand’s and hips pressed against him as they swayed to the beat.
One strong set of hands didn’t move away, they kept a steady grip on him. Ronan slowly rolled his hips back and when he was met with an enthusiastic response, he smirked. It was never difficult to find someone like him in a place like this.
All he focused on were cool lips on his neck, hands holding onto his hips, and the pleasure sparking deliciously through his body. Stress melted away, helped by those pills he had swallowed.
He was tired of dying, in his dreams and in real life.
His desire for pleasure and feeling good completely outweighed Gansey’s nagging voice in his head.
Don’t get into any trouble
He never went looking for trouble, but it always found him. He turned around.
Ronan had been kissed before, but never like this. It felt like he was being devoured. A pierced tongue slid into his mouth with an animalistic groan. Long nails scratched down his muscular arms hard enough to break his pale skin. Burning desperate flames seemed to envelope the two as they clung to each other. Somewhere in his blissed out brain Ronan thought.
This is fucking hot
The lights were strobing violently around them as Ronan pulled back to take a breath.
Then he saw who he had been kissing. The vicious snarl on his face, the white sunglasses.
No. It couldn’t be
That shaved head, pierced tongue devil tilted his head to the side and smiled like a cat who got the cream.
“Does Dick Three know you are off your leash, Lynch?” A light slap stung Ronan’s cheek, and his chin was pulled hard down to kiss Kavinsky again.
“Fuck..” Ronan swore under his breath, wrapping his muscular arms around Kavinsky’s skeletal form. They tore at each other with a toxic mixture of violence and passion in the throng of people dancing around them.
No, Gansey doesn’t know, and he never will.