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Their first meeting was short and simple.
Faux had only just begun his journey as a graffiti writer, after admiring the paint laid out on concrete walls and the sides of buildings since he was a child, still bright eyed the way children were as they discovered the world around them. He found something uniquely beautiful about using that world as a canvas, using the man-made walls to create beauty in conformity and monotony. His father, however, did not agree with his views. He always told him it was deplorable, that the people who did it were low-life vandals with no respect, but Faux never thought so — to him, graffiti was art, a way to show people what you could create despite a society that demanded for crushing authority, to get a message across, to speak and be seen for not yourself but your art, it was something more than oneself, and it was something he wanted to be apart of, so he made sure he was. He would be something bigger than what he was, he would make a name for himself.
He had his eyes on Versum Hill, though he wasn't the only one. He was only a single man, but some crew called Futurism had been marking up the place with their tags, quickly overtaking the borough to claim as their own, no matter though, Faux figured, he would simply cover them with his own tags as quickly as they would appear, and he did just that. He found it odd how he seemed to go unbothered, however, he had expected to be confronted by someone in Futurism, to be told to back off from the borough they had claimed, though instead he was largely left alone, save for the feeling of eyes on his back that watched him, but he pushed that aside to focus on covering paint with paint.
Simple, easy.
At least, it was.
Night had fallen over New Amsterdam when Faux had found himself doing what he had gotten used to as routine, finding Futurism graffiti to cover with his own. He was on a balcony, lit by the stars and street lamps bleeding in from below him, spraying over a rather large piece, that feeling of eyes on him that caused goosebumps to rise on his skin persisted, but he continued to ignore it, he would always look, yet find nothing that seemed off, no one that was staring at him, this time would be no different. That was, until it was made clear that it would be — there was a thud that came from behind him, causing him to jump out of his skin. He whirled around, seeing a rather large and imposing man standing behind him.
"Yo," he greeted. His voice was deep, smooth. Faux clenched his jaw.
"You scared the shit out of me, dude," Faux hissed, shooting the man a glare through the darkness. On one hand, he felt relieved that his suspicions of being watched were now confirmed, though on the other, the fact that they were was also rather frightening, "What do you want?"
"You're painting over my piece, you know," the man stepped closer to Faux, who instinctively moved back, however, more light from the street lamps hit him now, Faux able to make out his features better. His expression was hard to read, but it didn't exactly feel threatening, more so akin to how one would observe an animal in a zoo: curious and interested, "Versum Hill is Futurism territory, dig it?"
And there was the confrontation he had been expecting.
The man got closer, and Faux moved back again, and soon they were locked into the motion of circling around each other, like a hunter sizing up their prey — who was who in this situation however, was debatable, though Faux didn't feel the odds were in his favour.
"Not for long, I'll be claiming this borough for myself," Faux answered, keeping his eyes fixed on the other man, who let out a laugh at his words.
"Yourself? You don't belong to a crew then, I take it?" He asked, an amused smirk now pulled at the corner of his lips. Faux nodded his affirmative, to which the man hummed, "Alright, I respect it, you've got tenacity. I've been watching you cover up my crew's pieces, I wondered if you were getting any help with how quickly you were working, but it's... fascinating knowing you were on your own... You're good."
They kept up their dance, their eyes glued on each other, Faux watching with scrutiny and distrust. He found it rather strange how the man reacted to him — not with anger at Faux trying to claim his crew's territory, but with a glint in his eyes as if he was excited, even complimenting him, it made Faux even more suspicious.
"Thanks..." Faux's voice came from his throat obviously weary, his brows furrowed as he watched the other move. They were both quiet then for a few moments, before the man finally stopped their tandem movement, stepping closer to hold his hand out in Faux's direction.
"The name's DJ Cyber, by the way," he finally introduced himself, the name striking a familiar chord in the back of Faux's mind.
"DJ... You make music, don't you? Condensed Milk?" Faux questioned, though leaving the DJ's extended hand hanging. He had recalled hearing the song before, he couldn't remember where, but he remembered the name DJ Cyber attached to it.
"Yeah, you heard it?" Cyber raised a brow, almost seeming surprised, though dropping his hand as he got the hint his offer for a handshake wasn't going to be accepted. Faux nodded once again, "What do you think then? You dig it?"
"It's good, not what I usually listen to though," Faux shrugged, causing a laugh to rumble from Cyber's chest, clearly amused, by what though, Faux wasn't sure.
"What do you usually listen to?"
"Stuff that's harder... I guess."
"Right, I'll keep that in mind."
There was another few moments of silence then, Faux watching the DJ closely, seeing his eyes look him up and down. Faux couldn't tell if he was showing interest in him or trying to size him up.
"Are you going to tell me your name?" Cyber finally asked, breaking the silence.
Faux felt an uncomfortable prick down his spine. Why would he want to know his name? How could he be sure he could trust him with that information? How easy would it be for him to find out who his father was if he knew his name? Even if it wasn't his legal name, how quickly could he find it out? Faux clenched his jaw again, keeping a cold gaze on the other, who looked back at him expectantly, waiting for a response, one that didn't come, however — in one quick movement Faux snatched his skateboard from where he had sat it, jumping from the balcony to ride off and away from the DJ, who called after him, trying to get him to stop.
They then kept meeting like that, as if that first conversation opened the flood gates.
Faux would cover Futurism's graffiti with his own, only for Cyber to show up and distract him, trying to talk to him, to ask him questions about who he was before Faux would flee. He would give him pieces, things he felt were safe to divulge, before he felt the questions got too specific, that the answers would lead Cyber to finding out who he was, who his father was, when he would ask for his name. Slowly, however, over the course of their meetings and their sometimes lengthy conversations, the man seemed to be wearing him down — Faux wasn't sure if he was beginning to feel like he could trust Cyber, or the fact that he found him to be rather handsome, once he actually saw him in the daylight, was clouding his judgement. Regardless, he found himself feeling less tense with every meeting, like a stray animal growing used to the familiar hands that would feed it.
He was working on a piece when he felt that now familiar presence behind him. He didn't stop his movement, waiting for the man to speak, though when he didn't, Faux rolled his eyes, pausing as he shot a glance behind him.
"You gonna say somethin' or what?" He asked, almost sounding bored.
"Nah, just admiring," the DJ hummed from where he leaned on a lamp post. Faux snorted, raising a brow.
"Me or the art?" He asked, a teasing lilt finding its way to his voice. Cyber shrugged.
"Both."
Faux felt heat rise on his cheeks, not having expected Cyber to give him a serious answer. He turned his head back around quickly, hiding his now red face from the other as he returned his focus to his piece. Over the course of their meetings, Cyber hadn't really tried to be subtle in showing that his motivations for watching Faux, for seeking him out and trying to learn about him, was from a place of interest — part of Faux felt flattered, maybe even a bit excited, though the other part of him knew how dangerous this could be, what a slippery slope he could find himself on if he let this infatuation fester.
He heard Cyber move behind him, coming closer. He leaned into his space, practically looming over him in a way that should have been threatening, should have, if it wasn't for the way Faux's gut twisted with something much more sickly and viscous instead.
"Are you ever going to tell me your name?" Cyber asked, his voice lower now at their close proximity. Faux shrugged away, creating space between them as he looked up at the DJ, his brows furrowed and eyes narrowed into a suspicious glare.
"Why do you wanna know it so bad?" He questioned, still clinging onto that instinctual distrust his paranoia planted in his mind. Cyber chuckled.
"Why wouldn't I? You know mine, is it not fair that I know yours?" Cyber raised a brow in Faux's direction.
He supposed he wasn't wrong, that was how meetings usually went, right? A mutual exchange of names, a smile, a handshake, all of which Faux had denied the other up to this point. He searched in Cyber's eyes, for a sign that his distrust wasn't misplaced, as if there would be a warning sign hiding somewhere in those emerald irises, though he found nothing but something genuine, wanting. Faux bit into the fragile flesh of his cheek until he tasted the copper of blood on his tongue.
Really, what had Cyber done to make Faux's distrust founded? He could recall nothing but intrigue, a desire to know him and not who his blood connected him too, still though, Faux wondered if the DJ would accept him if he did know, or if he would see him as nothing more than one of them, if he would think his hands were just as stained as his father's. Something in him told him he wouldn't, despite the distrust he held, something wanted to believe Cyber would be understanding, that he could trust him.
"Don't run away on me again," Cyber cut through the chatter in Faux's mind, expecting him to do the same thing he had done in every one of their meetings before.
"Faux," he blurted then, before his thoughts could gag him, "My name is Faux."
Cyber stared at him, his eyes slightly wide in surprise, caught off guard at the fact he had finally told him his name. A smile, wider than all the ones he had worn before, cracked at his lips.
"Faux," he repeated, almost thoughtfully, "I like that," he hummed, and Faux felt his cheeks grow warm again.
"Well, now that you told me your name, how long do you think it'll take before you give me your number?"
"Huh?"
"Your number, you know, so I don't have to keep hunting you down just to talk to you," Cyber pulled his phone out of his pocket, as if he had to demonstrate what a phone was.
Faux tsked. Well, he was already beginning to fall down that slope, what was a few more inches? He snatched the DJ's phone from his hand, who didn't give any protest to the action, Faux feeling those emerald eyes simply watch him as he flipped the phone open, quickly punching in his number and putting himself as a contact in his phone, he then texted himself, sending a simple period, so Cyber would show up in his own phone. He felt his pocket buzz a few moments after sending the message, and he handed the phone back to Cyber.
"There, you have my number, can you let me finish my damn piece now?" Faux huffed as Cyber took the phone back, chuckling a bit.
"Be my guest, just don't think it'll last long here, Futurism will cover it up in no time," Cyber commented as he made his way back to the lamp post he had been leaning on, resuming the position he was in to watch Faux as he worked.
Faux simply scoffed, giving another roll of his eyes as he turned back to the wall, continuing where he had left off. He hated the feeling of being watched, the feeling of eyes pricking at his skin like needles, scrutinizing him, judging him, he felt them every time he left his front door — but it was Cyber, he was the one watching him now, and if it was Cyber, then it was fine, wasn't it?
Yes. Yes, this was fine, Faux decided, falling a few more feet down that slope.
It took him a little while longer to finish his piece, yet the DJ stayed and watched the entire time, occasionally making comments, complimenting his work. Once he had finished, Faux simply got on his board and rode away, hearing Cyber shout that he would text him, and, sure enough, not even an hour later, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket once again. He pulled it out and flipped it open.
'Hey'
'whats ur deal?'
'What do you mean?'
'why do u wanna know me so bad?'
'You're fascinating to me'
'Is that so wrong? To want to know you?'
'fuckin weirdo'
'You didn't seem that put off by me'
'You were the one who gave me your number, you know'
'whatever'
';)'
Faux huffed, snapping his phone shut and shoving it back into his pocket. How annoying, he thought. Annoying, and yet, he couldn't help but feel warm, a tugging in his chest — there was something... Nice about someone being so interested in him, someone finding him fascinating, and putting in so much effort to get to know him, as Faux was certainly not making it easy. Usually others found him off-putting, even uncanny at times. This was different, and it was flattering, really, especially when such interest was coming from a man as attractive as Cyber. Faux quickly felt that slipping down the slope turn to tumbling, and frankly, he wasn't sure if he could stop himself at this point.
They then quickly got into the habit of texting every day.
Faux would wake up to texts from Cyber, telling him what he had for breakfast, usually burnt toast, Faux noticed, and wishing him a good morning when Faux would respond, usually telling him that whatever he was eating looked gross, quickly being able to gather that Cyber's cooking skills left much to be desired. Faux would send him pictures of new graffiti designs he would sketch out in his notebooks, how the sky looked from his bedroom window, Cyber would send him pictures of bugs he found while he was out, whatever take-out he was using as a replacement for food, Faux would tell Cyber where he would be at that day so they could meet up, Cyber would invite him over to his apartment, even introducing him to his friend, Felix, who seemed eager to get along with Faux, and then they would wish each other goodnight before they went to bed — even if they didn't meet up that day, they would still be talking, about everything they could.
This was dangerous, Faux knew it was, warning sirens, bells and whistles tried to blare in his head, to tell him to put an end to this before it got out of hand, but the more they spoke, the more he got to know Cyber, the easier it was to ignore those sirens, part of him insisting that this was okay, that he could trust Cyber, that a little further down that slope wouldn't doom him. That was the part of him he chose to listen to.
He decided to venture from Versum Hill, riding around in Brink Terminal that day instead. He wasn't giving up on his goal to claim Versum Hill on his own by any means, the back and forth battle with Futurism now feeling much more personal, almost a rivalry between him and the DJ at this point, he simply craved for a change of scenery for a day. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he didn't even have to check who it was when he fished it out, he already knew.
'Where are you?'
A daily question for the past few months, Cyber wanting to meet up so they could see each other and talk in person. Usually Faux would tell him, or just drop a pin on his location, this time however, Faux wanted to make it a bit harder for Cyber, as if it was a way to see if he would still be willing to hunt him down if he had to, if he was still hungry enough to stalk his prey if it was no longer fed to him.
He supposed then, his earlier question was answered, of who was the hunter and who was the prey. Surprisingly, Faux didn't mind his role in this.
He turned his phone to its camera, flipping it to face him. He positioned it to partially get his face in frame, making sure his location was in the background just enough for it to be somewhat vague as to where he was at, and then as an extra measure, he threw up a peace sign to cover his backdrop a bit, to make sure Cyber would have to put the effort in to pinpoint where he was. He snapped the photo, sending it to Cyber.
'come find me ;x'
Faux shut his messages, opening up Micro Boy as he settled into where he was, almost feeling a giddy excitement to see how long it would take the DJ to sleuth out where he was. Thankfully, he wouldn't have to wait too terribly long, as just around the forty minute mark, when he was starting to grow bored and getting the urge to move from his spot, Faux heard the sound of wheels on rails, looking up from the game on his phone — and quickly dying in it as he became distracted — to see Cyber closing in on him. He flipped his phone shut and put it in his pocket, pushing himself off from the wall he leaned on as the DJ finally met up with him, hopping off of the rail and skidding his board to a stop before hopping off.
"Playing hard to get again, huh? How cruel of you," he huffed, though teasingly.
"Wanted to make you work for it this time," Faux shrugged, the way Cyber's chest rose and fell quickly, and the sweat gathering at his brow not going unnoticed by him. It made it obvious he had been trying to find him as quickly as possible, likely skirting around the city in a desperate search. It was attractive, it was exciting.
"I wanted to invite you to a rave I'm going to be hosting tonight, it'll be inside the train station, starts at twelve, dig it?" Cyber offered, wiping his forehead of sweat. Faux raised a brow slightly.
"You coulda just texted me that," he pointed out.
"Yeah, but I wanted to see you," the DJ explained easily, yet still with a sly tone in his voice. Faux felt his cheeks flush slightly, "So? Will you be there?" Cyber then pressed.
"I'm not really a party guy," Faux wasn't really a people guy either. The thought of being surrounded by so many people, packed in and sweaty, it wasn't something that sounded particularly fun to him.
"Come on, there's going to be other crews and writers there, it would be a good way to get your presence in the scene known if you at least showed your face, you don't even have to stay for long if you don't want to, and..." Cyber paused, stepping closer to Faux to reach out a hand, gently caressing the back of his upper arm before gliding his hand down its length, pulling him closer as he did before stopping to hold his hand, "There's something I've been working on that I want you to hear, I want you to be there when I play it," he finished, his voice having turned low and quiet.
It was obvious what he was trying to do, he wasn't even trying to hide it, with the way his words rumbled deeply in his chest, the way his eyes looked at him, half lidded, enticing, the softness of his touches. He was trying to seduce him into saying yes, and maybe Faux was weak willed, or perhaps he simply couldn't say no to Cyber when he was so close, when he spoke to him like that, touched him like that — but it worked. He tsked, taking his hand from Cyber's to cross them over his chest, an apparent heat settling in his cheeks.
"Fine, but I'll only stay for an hour," he relented with a huff, turning his head to look away from the man in front of him, who let out a deep chuckle.
"An hour works."
They spent the rest of the daylight hours together, doing tricks around the terminal attempting to beat each other's scores, finding somewhere to eat, throwing up a few tags here and there. Faux felt... At ease, which was an odd feeling to him. Usually, he was looking over his shoulder, feeling the pin pricks of people's eyes on his skin, a creeping dread up his spine telling him that people were watching him, that they knew who he was, that they knew who his father was — with Cyber, it was different, he didn't feel those burning eyes on his back, or the hissing whispers of voices in his ears, and even if he did they were far easier to brush away. Cyber made him feel grounded.
A deep seeded need had been planted in his core, it's roots growing to intertwine with his insides, sickly and disgusting, violent in nature. If he was worried about slipping down that slope before, he was now willingly digging his own grave at the bottom of it, and surely Cyber would be the one to bury him in it.
The impending doom of the rave hadn't even crossed his mind until the sun began to set and the once blue sky had changed to a burning orange, Cyber finally parting ways with him as he needed to begin setting up in the train station. Faux wasn't looking forward to it, to be honest. He didn't even know how many people would be there, what if there were far more than he was anticipating? What if it was nothing but a sea of sweaty bodies pressed together in a suffocating amalgamation of limbs? How was he supposed to navigate that without wanting to claw and rip himself apart?
But, Cyber would be there, he remembered. If Cyber was there, maybe it would be okay.
Faux used the spare time to return to Versum Hill, going over Futurism's graffiti while Cyber and his crew were busy with setting up. He had covered good ground in the few hours he had, but by the time he had checked his phone he had noticed that he was already running late, almost by an hour. He clicked his tongue before tucking his phone back away in his pocket and kicking his skates on, quickly making his way to the train station — the wheels of his skates rattled against metal as he made his way down the track, the train having long stopped its service for the day, and after a few moments of riding down the tunnel he began to hear the echoed beats of music, getting louder as he reached the port.
He stepped off his skates as he exited the mouth of the tunnel, taking a moment to survey the crowd. It was dark, the only source of light being the colored strobing coming from the back wall, where Cyber's stage was presumably set, but Faux could tell that it wasn't totally packed, not shoulder to shoulder like he had feared, but there was still a good amount of people gathered in the confined space, some even having climbed atop the train cars currently not in use. Most people were dancing, some were leaned against walls, talking to one another. One such person, was Felix, who he had noticed leaning against a far wall, talking to a woman, Vinyl, he thought was her name, only vaguely knowing her as someone who would hang around Felix and Cyber. Before he could move to approach them, Vinyl noticed him first, leaning towards Felix and pointing a finger in his direction, Felix turning to finally notice him then; a smile came to his face and he waved, quickly heading over in Faux's direction.
"Yo, man, waddup! What took you so long?! The DJ's been practically blowin' up my phone askin' if you were here yet like, every fifteen minutes!" Felix greeted him, yelling over the thumping of the music as he clapped a hand on Faux's back. He was sure fifteen minutes was an exaggeration, but regardless, it was still rather flattering to know that Cyber was so eager for him to show.
"Lost track of the time. He's up there, right?" Faux raised his voice to the same volume, pointing towards the direction of the stage. Felix nodded.
"I'll text him that you're here," he then stated, holding out a hand, which Faux clapped against his own, a motion that he had learned was Felix's way of ending a conversation, like it was some sort of mutual agreement that there were no more words left to be exchanged.
And with that, Faux made his way to the front of the crowd, weaving through the bodies as if he was trying to avoid pot holes on the road. The song that had been playing faded out, Cyber's voice replacing it over the speakers.
"This next track is something new I've been mixing, for someone I've met and got to know over the past few months," Cyber explained as Faux finally made it to the front of the stage, Cyber quickly noticing him from behind his turntable, their eyes locking, and Faux could have sworn he felt a jolt of electricity shock him down his spine, and he wondered if Cyber felt it too, with the way that he smiled, "For someone here tonight," he finished, the crowd responding with whoops and hollers and whistles.
Cyber brought his eyes back down to his turntable, beginning to play the song that he wanted Faux to be there to hear, which, he now realized the reason for — it was for him. He closed his eyes and listened to the beat, to the lyrics, his face flushing as it was undeniable in its words; wanting, a curious hunger, and he couldn't help how his body moved and swayed to it, his hips moving and his head bobbing to the tempo. Soon, however, the song ended, much too soon as far as Faux was concerned, but it ended nonetheless, and he fluttered his eyes open to meet Cyber's once again, and he wondered if he had been staring at him like that the whole time, with a look that reflected the lyrics of the song, wanting and hungry.
Cyber then quickly announced that one of the girls from his crew, Ash, would be taking over for him to allow him a break, promising she would keep the crowd entertained with her own mixing while he was away. They took a moment to switch out, but once the DJ was free from the wires of his turntable he made his way over to Faux, who met him half way off to the side of the crowd. Once they got close enough to each other, there was no immediate exchanging of words, instead, Cyber reached out, his hand gripping the back of Faux's neck and tugging him up against his body in one quick movement, a hand gripping at his hip. Faux let out a surprised gasp, however inaudible against the thumping of music, as he braced his hands against Cyber's arm and side.
"You're late," he spoke deeply into his ear, having leaned his head down so his lips would be right next to it. Faux had to suppress the shiver that wanted to wrack his body then.
"I - I got busy covering up your crew's pieces" he stuttered. Damn it. he felt Cyber's grip on his hip tighten.
"'Course you did," he chuckled, Faux feeling the vibration of it reverberate in his chest, practically feeling it in his own bones.
Cyber then moved back a bit, taking Faux by the hand to lead him away from the crowd to the far wall, near where a table had been set up with a water cooler and plastic cups. Cyber stopped at the table first, letting go of Faux's hand to take a cup and fill it with water, extending it in Faux's direction, who took it, sipping at it as the DJ filled his own cup — they moved off to the side of the table then, their sides leaning against the wall as they faced each other, their bodies practically pressed together as Cyber's free hand snaked its way around Faux to find its place at the small of his back, holding him close.
"I was beginning to think you weren't going to show," Cyber commented, leaning down slightly so he would be close to Faux's ear again to keep from having to yell over the music.
"I said I'd come, didn't I? I ain't a liar," that was disregarding the plethora of lies he would tell his father to get away with things Faux knew he wouldn't be pleased with, but that was a different case, those lies were for survival. Outside of his home, Faux didn't lie, he kept his tongue clean and abided by the code of the streets.
"Didn't stop you from taking your time trying to take Versum Hill from Futurism," Cyber pointed out, though there was no malice in his words, simply amusement. Faux shrugged.
"I knew you guys would be busy, you can't blame me for taking the opportunity."
"I suppose not," Cyber chuckled. He then removed his hand from Faux's back, shifting to reach into his pocket, where he fished around for a moment before pulling out a small zip-lock baggie that held a few small, colorful tablets, "Want one?" He then asked.
"What are they?" Faux responded with his own question, raising a brow as he looked over the pills.
"Drugs."
"No shit, what are they?"
"Molly."
Faux hummed. He had never taken Molly before, or any drug for that matter, though not due to personal abstinence or avoidance, he had no qualms about indulgence, the opportunity had simply never presented itself — until now, that is.
"Sure," he shrugged.
"You positive? Once you take it you can't take it back," Cyber warned, cautious due to Faux's few seconds of hesitation. However Faux simply rolled his eyes.
"Yes, I'm positive, I'll be fine."
At that, Cyber relented. He handed his cup over to Faux, who took it in his free hand to hold it for him as his fingers went about opening the baggie and retrieving two of the pills from it, one of which he proceeded to put on his tongue, taking his cup back to wash it down — he then turned his attention to Faux, holding the pill between his fingers, though not offering it into Faux's own hand, instead —
"Open your mouth," he instructed simply.
Faux raised his brow, but did as he was told anyways, holding his mouth open and looking at the DJ expectantly. There was a moment of pause, Cyber seemingly drinking in the way Faux looked, his mouth open and waiting, before he extended his hand forward, placing the small tablet between his fingers directly onto Faux's tongue himself, Faux tasting the bitter leather of his glove as he did, his face suddenly feeling warm at the rather intimate action — Cyber then retracted his hand, allowing Faux to take a drink from his cup to swallow the pill down.
"It'll take some time for it to start working," Cyber stated, putting the baggie back in his pocket and slinking his hand around Faux's waist to pull him close again, "You'll be able to tell once it does."
Faux nodded in acknowledgment to Cyber's words, pressing his body further against the other as he did. He let his eyes wander, down his chest, down lower to his stomach and the exposed skin from the cut outs of his shirt — Faux allowed himself another form of indulgence, too, his free hand planting itself against Cyber's stomach, his fingers sinking into the fat there slightly as he felt his way upwards, stopping over one of his pecs. He looked back up to Cyber then, who was looking at him with something decidedly lascivious in his eyes; he dipped his head down, his lips ghosting over the skin of Faux's neck, his hot breath making Faux suppress another shiver. Cyber wanted to kiss him, Faux could tell, but instead he brought his head up slightly, his breath now against the shell of his ear again.
"What did you think of the song? I was working on it for a while," he asked, his voice deep and viscous, dripping with barely contained lust.
"It was good, I like it," Faux answered, his own voice husked. Really, it was a nice feeling knowing Cyber had written a song for him, a clearly romantic gesture that succeeded in getting Faux to fall even further, sink deeper down, "I'm surprised you wrote something for me, actually," he then commented, to which Cyber chuckled, resonating in his chest and vibrating Faux's own.
"I told you before, you fascinate me, I want to know you... Is it really so surprising of me to put those feelings to song?"
"Knowing you, I guess not."
The two continued to stand against the wall, close enough to feel each other's pulses under their skin as they spoke, waiting for the Molly to begin working in their systems, and sure enough, about thirty minutes later, Faux began to feel... Different. they had since abandoned their cups of water on to table, Cyber having instead wrapped both arms around Faux's middle, holding him close as he leaned down into him, swaying their bodies together slightly as it seemed to kick in for him as well.
"You feel it working yet?" He asked into his ear, and Faux paused to allow himself to simply feel for a moment.
His body felt hot, having begun to sweat from simply standing in the same spot, sensations bleeding into each other as he gripped onto the back of Cyber's shirt, feeling the fabric between his fingers as the music in his ears almost sounded hazy, the lights pulsing and seeming brighter than before. Most noticeably though, and more importantly, he felt good, he felt happy, he felt the urge to get even closer to Cyber, like he could climb inside of him and live in his ribcage.
"Yeah, I think so," Faux responded after a moment.
"Good, come on," Cyber stated simply before he began to pull away, standing up straight and his arms unraveling from Faux's middle, and he instantly missed that touch, wanting it back, craving that closeness.
Cyber then however took his hand, leading him into the mass of dancing bodies, and Faux followed, obedient, like a dog on a leash. They weaved their way into the crowd, stopping once Cyber had found a spot with suitable space for the two of them, where he then put his hand against the back of Faux's neck once again, getting close to his ear.
"Just let it move you," he instructed before pulling away again, and Faux did just that.
Their bodies began to move and sway to the beat in tandem, Faux feeling the vibrations in his body as the music went in and out of sounding muffled and clear, simply letting it move him. He felt hotter now, and their bodies got closer as they danced, as if they were magnets pulling each other together, Cyber's hands once again finding Faux's waist to hold him, Faux's arms wrapping around Cyber's shoulders, their eyes locked on each other with an intensity as if they were the only two living and breathing beings in the room, and really, to Faux, they might as well be — their hips moved together, continuing to get closer until chest was pressed into chest, their breath mixing, until Faux turned, his back now against Cyber as he kept his arms around his neck, the DJ's hands venturing down to grip at Faux's hips.
Cyber pulled Faux's hips back into him, his ass pressing into his groin as they ground into each other, the heat between them pooling and becoming practically suffocating. Faux felt a burning twist in the pit of his stomach, a coil that wanted more than just this clothed grinding — he wanted skin against skin, for their sweat to mix, to feel Cyber even closer, deeper, for their bodies to mix together in a way that was certainly not appropriate to do in a room full of people. He bit his lip at the thought of it regardless, grinding back more against Cyber and feeling a rumble from the man's chest against his back as he did, something that pushed Faux further, continuing to press into him, moving his hips in a rhythm he wasn't even sure matched the music anymore, Cyber keeping a firm grip on his hips, digging his fingers in in a way that was all too pleasurable as he pulled Faux's hips and pressed his own against him.
Faux was sure there was a line somewhere between grinding as a simple dance move, and grinding as something purely sexual with the intent to get off on it by the end — he didn't know where that line was, but they had surely crossed it by now.
He had lost track of how much time had ended up passing, it felt like no time at all while somehow also feeling like it had been far too long, but eventually, he heard Cyber curse from above him, beginning to pull away. Faux turned, missing the contact between them already and wondering why he had stopped, seeing him looking at the stage and making a motion to Ash before he turned back to him, leaning down to speak into his ear.
"Sorry, I have to get back on stage, I'll meet up with you again later, okay?" He explained, and while Faux felt disappointed, he nodded, Cyber was supposed to be the one hosting this rave, after all, not one of his crew mates.
Still however, Cyber lingered, his eyes going between looking into Faux's own and down to his lips. He wanted to kiss him, Faux wished he would. Instead, Cyber finally turned away, going to weave his way through the crowd of people to get back to the stage.
Now left alone, Faux suddenly became aware of how hot he felt, how dry his throat felt, how fast his heart was beating in his chest, how hard he was breathing — he needed to get out of this crowd. He managed to stumble his way between and out of the mass of bodies, quickly going back to the water table to fill another cup with trembling hands, chugging it down and practically gasping as he finished it. The music sounded muffled, the lights were far too bright and his head pounded, his body feeling like it was burning as he sweat and panted. The feeling of a sudden hand on his shoulder made him jump, quickly turning to see who it was.
"Yo!" It was Felix. Faux relaxed slightly, "You had the DJ's attention for a while, huh?" He laughed, to which Faux raised a brow.
"What? What time is it?" He asked. Just how long had the two of them been absorbed in each other for? Felix took out his phone then to glance at the time before looking back to Faux.
"'Bout to turn four."
"Four?!" he was only supposed to stay for an hour, how did three go by without him even noticing?! "Shit, I need to go," he quickly stated, tossing his empty cup back onto the table.
"Hold up, Cyber just got back on stage, don't you wanna stay to hear his stuff?" Felix asked, putting a hand back on Faux's shoulder to keep him from running off.
"I can't, I need to go," Faux stated again, shrugging Felix's hand off his shoulder.
"Well, text me when you get home so I know you made it back alright then," Felix requested, likely feeling concerned over how clearly out of it he was, and the fact that he would be alone in his current state.
"Yeah, sure," he waved Felix off, their hands clapping against each other once again before Faux turned to finally make his way back out of the port and into the tunnel.
He felt like he was finally able to breathe once he made it back out into the open, no longer being suffocated by the heavy air being shared between far too many lungs. Once back at the station he made his way to the ground level, finding a railing he could lean against as he tried to get his breath to something more even, his body still felt too hot however, even despite the cool night air, so he quickly pulled his shirt off, hanging it over the rail as a shiver went down his spine, the sweat cooling against his skin instantly — it was late, he needed to get back home, but there was no way he could go back in his current state, if he did, he was sure his father would have more questions for him that weren't just about where the hell he had been, he had no choice but to wait it out until he came down enough to feel normal again.
Faux kept an eye on his phone as the time passed, checking it as it continued to get later the longer he had to wait, but finally, after about another hour, he felt himself settling, his heart had slowed and his breathing evened out, his skin no longer feeling like it was on fire, the lights from the street lamps no longer looking too bright for him to stand. He let out a breath, beginning to move from the rail before his phone started to ring — he felt a sinking feeling in his gut, sure it was his father looking to yell at him for still not being home, though, he relaxed to see it was only Cyber. He flipped his phone open to answer, putting it up to his ear.
"You left," Cyber's voice came through the receiver before Faux could get a word out.
"I stayed for way longer than I was supposed to — " Faux started, though cut himself off as he noticed how it sounded like Cyber was breathing heavy, the sounds of shuffling and quick footsteps, "are you running?"
"Where are you?" Cyber didn't answer Faux's question, instead asking his own, which Faux rolled his eyes to.
"I'll drop a pin," he stated, hanging up then to send a pin of his current location to Cyber.
Then, he waited, leaning against the railing again, and, sure enough, not long later Cyber emerged from the train station entrance, now on his skateboard rather than on foot. He spotted Faux, though stopped to stare at him for a moment, seemingly taking in the way he looked shirtless, just his sports bra covering his chest, his hair disheveled and falling into his face in places. Cyber put away his board then to quickly make his way over to Faux, not exchanging any words before he grabbed his waist, harshly pulling him towards him by it so their bodies pressed together, Faux sucking in a breath at the suddenness of it and the force behind the movement. Cyber continued forward, pressing Faux back into the railing as he gripped onto it.
"You left," Cyber repeated, his voice low and his breath heavy as he leaned his head down to bring his face close to Faux's.
"You said that already," Faux pointed out, meeting Cyber's movement with his own and canting his head up slightly, their lips close and their breaths mixing once again. There was a few beats of silence, Cyber's fingers digging into Faux's skin, the contact between their eyes hot and intense with feelings that, at this point, were undoubtedly shared.
"Can I kiss you?" Cyber finally asked, quiet, bringing his lips closer to Faux's slightly. Faux felt his heart jump and beat faster again in his chest.
"You really have to ask?"
With that, their lips finally met, feverish and intense, like two starved animals getting a taste of the food they had been so hungry for. Finally. Finally. Cyber broke the kiss first, though only to lick at Faux's lips, who easily parted them, opening his mouth to allow Cyber to lick into it, a sensation that Faux groaned into, a noise that only served to rile Cyber up further, shoving his tongue deeper into Faux's mouth as he pushed him against the railing further, licking at his molars and tasting his tongue as Faux did much of the same. They panted into each other's mouths, grunts and groans being swallowed, and Faux soon felt Cyber's hands begin to wander, wrapping around his back, feeling up his skin as he followed the curve of his spine until he reached the bottom edge of his sports bra, clever fingers slipping underneath the fabric, and Faux was suddenly very glad the streets were deserted this late at night as he responded in kind, letting out a moan to be muffled by Cyber's mouth as he moved a leg, wrapping around and rubbing up Cyber's own.
That coil had made itself present, more and more the longer the two continued to swap spit, and Faux felt a particularly excited pulse between his legs as he felt Cyber begin to pull up on his bra slightly. Before they could go any further however, the buzzing of Faux's phone in his pocket interrupted them, and he groaned, this time in annoyance as he finally pulled back to break their kiss, the pair panting as Faux took his hands off the railing to push Cyber back slightly by his chest, retrieving his phone from his pocket with the other — this time, it was his father, an obviously angry text asking him why he still wasn't home making Faux tsk.
"Damn it," he cursed under his breath, pushing Cyber back further to allow himself to move off of the railing, "I need to go, my dad is gonna kill me," he explained, frustrated as he moved away from the DJ, quickly texting his father that he was on his way before grabbing his shirt off the railing to tug it back on.
Cyber was silent, watching as Faux tried to make himself look more presentable as to not rouse any more possible suspicion from his father as to what he had been up to. Faux looked back to Cyber then, opening his mouth to tell him he would talk to him tomorrow, though, before any words could leave his throat —
"Go out with me."
Cyber blurted, and Faux halted. He stared at him, wide eyed and lips parted slightly in surprise, though really, he shouldn't be surprised, not with how obvious Cyber had made his intentions, practically within their first meeting, and especially not after what they had just done, yet somehow it still caught him off guard, as if some part of him still thought that the DJ had some sort of ulterior motive for his interest in him, to expose who his blood tied him to, or to only use him for pleasure, not to date, not to love. Faux let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. He would choose not to listen to that part of him.
"Okay," he spoke finally.
He moved then, going back to where Cyber stood to plant his hands against his chest, leaning up slightly to press a kiss against his lips, however this time it was much less feverish and desperate, instead something more chaste and tender, and Cyber responded in kind, kissing Faux back with the same tenderness before their lips parted once again.
"I'll talk to you tomorrow," Faux stated quietly before he turned back around, kicking on his skates to begin riding away into the direction of his house.
He had gotten a few feet away before he stole a glace back towards Cyber, catching him as he seemed to celebrate, punching into the air as if he had just won a race. Faux couldn't help the snort or the small smile that pulled at his lips, feeling both flattered and endeared that Cyber would be so excited about Faux agreeing to date him.
Faux still wasn't sure how Cyber had managed to do it, but somehow over the months he had broken down the walls Faux so desperately hid behind. There were still unknowns, uncertainty that made Faux worry about how the DJ would react, how he would feel about him once he knew, but the suspicion and paranoia that was so innate to him had given way to trust, to something that burrowed in his marrow and made a home for itself there — somehow, Cyber made Faux feel like he could trust him, that he could tell him all his secrets and worries and Cyber would only greet him with open arms and understanding. Cyber could understand him.
If Cyber wanted to be with him, if he wanted to love him, Faux would put his raw and bleeding heart in his hands and allow him to swallow it whole, so long as Cyber allowed him to do the same. They may eat each other alive, with gnashing teeth and hungry tongues, but if their wounds bled together, Faux would be content, even if Cyber was the death of him, he would be content buried deep under the earth of that slope knowing he was put there by loving hands, and something more than himself would sprout and grow from his aching ribs.
He would be content in that tender and loving violence.