Work Text:
John had come to the conclusion that his life was the epitome of a bad pop punk song. Sitting still made him feel sick and he was tired of being fixed, held in place by family, held in place by the obligation to be great. He made a promise to himself at sixteen to leave as soon as he could. Go anywhere. Be anything. Change who he was, reinvent who he destined to become.
“One day,” John gazed up at the moon, “I will become even more of a space case than everyone already says I am.”
-
Imperial, Nebraska. Not worth shit in John’s opinion but it did offer cheap dive bars, always hiring blow-ins. John only ever stayed in one place for three months, staying any longer would cause him to feel stagnant. Imperial would be no different. The town was tiny compared to many of the town's John had stayed in, the population just breaching 1500 last year and most of the townspeople firmly stuck in 1905.
About twenty miles from the Colorado state line Imperial had stood since 1885. A small farmstead at first, where the owners would give land to anyone willing to help build a town and at the establishment of the railroad towards Lincoln, Imperial was born. standing on the corner of main street was the old court house that the town residents took great pride in and liked to boast all around the county that they were the only town within one hundred miles to have a heritage listed building. Great plains stretched so far that you could look left or right and not see another town from Imperial, but occasionally, on a clear day if you were to stand atop the monstrous sand dunes that were a ten minute drive from Imperial you could see the sign saying 'Leaving Nebraska'.
-
Back in February, when John’s beat up Cadillac finally pulled outside Bar Noir - a place a lot less French than the name suggested, he was a dead man walking. He’d been driving nonstop for about a week, sleeping in his backseat. The bags under his eyes were bigger than those he’d seen hanging off women in downtown LA and his ass hurt more than the time he met a cute cowboy in Nashville.
“Wow, you look dead.” The bartender, a guy not much older than John, with a mess of long, chocolate hair and light coffee coloured skin, inquired, giving John a sympathetic look as he collapsed onto a bar-stool.
“Whiskey please.” John barely managed to choke out before his neck gave up and his forehead connected with the grimy surface of the bar.
“Um, yeah how about no?” The bartender returned with a glass of water “One, because technically we’re closed and two, alcohol is the last thing you need right now.”
John groaned and gingerly took a sip of water, “I left my mother back in South Carolina, don’t tell me she tracked me all the way to Imperial just to become a cute bartender and beat up on me for drinking.”
The bartender threw his head back in a barking laugh, “It’s not every day I get hit on by a blow-in via accusation of being his mother.”
“Today’s your lucky day then,” John placed the now empty glass back down and extended his hand to the bartender “I’m John.”
“Nice to meet you John, I’m Alexander, most people call me Alex though.” The bartender took John’s outstretched hand, feeling unexpected calluses.
“So, where is everyone?” John let go of Alex’s hand and looked around the dimly lit bar, seeing all the booths empty and chairs placed upside down on the haphazardly scattered tables. An old-style jukebox stood with its lights turned off in the corner, just behind a dance floor in need of a good polish.
“Well,” Alex refilled John’s glass, “I don’t know what time bars close in South Carolina, but here, there’s not many people wanting a drink this late, I was just closing up anyway.”
“Oh,” John’s gaze fell to his boots, “So I’m guessing you’re not looking at hiring anyone?”
Alex smiled and threw the dirty cloth he had been using to clean with into the nearest sink. “Well not really but you’re kinda cute.” John blushed at the compliment. “Got any experience working in bars? Most of you blow-ins usually do.” Alex had hired blow-ins before, none of them ever stayed for long.
“Yeah, I’ve worked a few.” John smirked. He was quite strong and had more than half a brain cell so he’d worked well in bars, “But, you’re the one who knows all about us ‘blow-ins’ and how ‘cute’ we are.”
“Alright smartass,” Alex laughed again. John really liked seeing him laugh, “Drop the air quotes so I can lock up.” He walked out from behind the bar and led John outside, turning around to lock the door once they were both in the cold February air. “Um, I’ve got a spare bed at my place, I-if you want somewhere to sleep.” Alex stuttered and John’s eyes lit up at the prospect of not having to sleep in his car.
“Thank you! That’s really kind of you.” As they made eye contact, Alex’s green eyes seemed to shine under the yellow street lamps.
“Well,” Alex smiled and placed a friendly hand on John’s shoulder “You seem like a good guy. Just, please, don’t rob me in my sleep?”
Both boys laughed at Alex’s remark as they made their way down the deserted streets. They came to a stop outside an old weatherboard house, Alex’s hand slid away from John’s shoulder to open the door and both of them missed the contact a little too much.
-
By the time March rolled around John stopped thinking Imperial wasn’t worth shit, but that was only because when he mentioned that to Alex, he threatened to run him out of town. He decided not to mention that there were plenty other small towns in Nebraska where he could stay and get work.
Imperial was unlike any town John had ever drifted into, at first it felt like Plainview in Massachusetts because of the small brick houses, but then it seemed to resemble Sutherland, Illinois with the short, straight side streets, but, really, Imperial was all of its own; John must have dreamt this place up. If not, he certainly dreamt up Alex. With his big green eyes and warm, dark skin, he basically radiated energy and excitement, seemingly unable to sit still. Still, the strangest thing about the smaller boy was he seemed to care about John.
Over the last month the two had become fast friends. Alex loved to hear stories of John’s exploits around the country and particularly enjoyed the story of how John and his friend Hercules had accidentally crashed a swingers’ party in Tampa Bay, Florida.
John, in turn, loved hearing Alex talk about his life in Imperial. “The news is almost always late,” Alex explained whilst cleaning one day, “My hometown’s in the dark, I swear!”
“In The Dark, USA?” John grinned at Alex’s laugh at his quick draw comment “Got a ring, don’t it?”
-
“John!” Alex’s voice rang out from behind the bar to reach John waiting tables.
“Yeah?” John’s head had perked up at the sound of his name and he made his way over to the bar.
“You were supposed to go on break about,” Alex pulled his phone out of his pocket to check the time “Twenty minutes ago.”
“Oh, yeah!” John placed the tray of empty beer bottles he’d been carrying on the bar and walked behind to swap positions with Alex “Have fun, I think the Hell’s Angels just rolled up.”
“Nah, that’s the local bike gang” Alex smiled and waved as a group of large man clad in leather with beards to rival ZZ Top entered the bar.
John shook his head as he retreated out the back door of the bar chuckling at the image of Alex greeting the biker gang like old friends, to be fair they probably were. Pulling a crumpled packet of cigarettes from his pocket, he placed one in his mouth, lighting it despite the breeze blowing which made his long curls whip his face.
“Who the fuck are you?” A light-skinned, broad shouldered man strolled around the building, coming face to face with John, “What are you doing outside MY bar?”
John took a slow, deliberate drag from his cigarette and turned his attention to the man in front of him, “I’m John, the new bartender,” he took another drag, blowing the smoke up and away from their conversation, “You must be, Mr Hamilton?” Alex had mentioned his father in passing, mainly how he used to own the bar before Alex took it over and that he wasn’t really the nicest person.
“Oh, so you’re John?” Alex’s Dad drew out his words like the Midwestern drag queen John had met in New York, and swore like the lithe sailors he'd fucked from Philadelphia, “Alexander told me he hired another nomad, another one of you no good, untrustworthy pieces of – “
“Dad!” Alex burst through the back door like a hurricane before Mr Hamilton could finish his assault on John. “I see you’ve met my good friend John.”
“I thought you said you weren’t gonna hire anymore of these fucking blow-ins?” Alex’s father gestured to John as if he weren’t there, though John didn’t notice; he was still caught up in the fact that Alex called him a ‘good friend’.
“Look Dad, I can do what I want,” Alex stood tall despite the fact he was barely 5’7. “This place is technically mine now and I can hire whoever I want.”
“Don’t you dare talk to me like that young man.” Alex shrank at the tone in his father’s voice, “If this business goes under, you’re fucking finished!” The older man turned his back to the boys and stormed away, a flurry of dust kicking up with his heavy footsteps.
John looked over to see Alex shaking like a leaf from the confrontation, “Hey,” John reached out for his friend’s hand, “It’s okay, he’s gone.”
Alex made eye contact with John and his eyes began to water but he quickly dropped his gaze so he could brush the offending tears away, “I’m sorry you had to meet him, he’s an asshole.”
“No no no, it’s okay.” John drew Alex into his chest, contrasting against the breeze. Giving into the hug, Alex clung tightly to John as his tears dampened the taller man’s shirt. John soothed his crying friend by combing fingers through his hair and led him back inside to the warmth of the bar, “It’s completely normal to cry, your Dad an asshole.”
“I fucking hate him,” Alex’s small voice was muffled by tears and the fabric of John’s shirt “He’s never actually cared about me,” sniffling he continued “-and he always treats me like a child.”
“Well fuck him!” John placed his tanned hands on Alex’s shoulders and held the smaller man at arm’s length, “Don’t listen to a word he says, you’re an extremely intelligent person and your father needs to respect your business choices. I also really wanna keep this job.”
Alex let out a small giggle at John’s remark, “Thanks.” The boys hugged and walked back into the main bar area, Alex whipping John’s butt playfully with a bar towel as he went back to waiting tables.
-
John was fucked. Formally, utterly and completely fucked. He tossed and turned for hours in Alex’s spare bed, the same bed he’d slept in every night for nearly three months. He knew that he had developed feelings for Alex, that boy with dark skin and long hair had wormed his way into John’s heart, uninvited. This wasn’t part of the plan, falling in love meant stopping, being still and not up and leaving every three months. He rolled over and sobbed into his pillow until he fell into a restless sleep. Fucked.
-
“Okay, spill honey.” Alex turned to face John where he was wiping tables or, more accurately, trying to sleep standing up with a cloth in his hand. “What’s up?”
“Nothing,” John tried to talk through a yawn, “Just didn’t sleep well.”
“Oh,” Alex’s worry subsided a little, “The bed not comfortable?” John shrugged in response whilst Alex smirked. “You can share mine if you want.”
John threw the cloth in his hand in the general direction of Alex but missed by around a metre, “Shut up!” The boys broke into easy laughter and John’s heart fluttered when he saw the brightness in Alex’s face. Still fucked.
-
“Hey, good work tonight John.” Alex placed his small hand on John’s brown, freckled shoulder, “Y-you’re a real help around here!” A blush began to creep up the smaller man’s cheeks as he stuttered the compliment.
“Well thanks for giving me a chance.” John turned to face Alex and his eyes crinkled with a smile as they both stood there.
Before either boy could reply, the beat up, old jukebox in the corner clicked over and began to play.
“Complicated by Avril Lavigne?” Alex giggled at John’s sudden inability to meet his eyes, “What is this? The early 2000’s?”
“Shut up and dance with me nerd.” John led him by the hand to the scuffed dance-floor.
“I’m not a very good dancer.” Alex protested, taking up John’s other hand as they stepped onto the dance-floor.
“Well, that makes two of us.” he smiled in return beginning to sway to the music whilst pulling Alex closer, laughing as they both stumbled slightly. John swayed his hips to the melody whilst Alex span under his outstretched arm, both almost in tears at their lack of coordination. John watched as Alex started to sing along with the music, causing him to break away and double over with laughter. Suddenly Alex lurched forward to grab John back into the dance. The taller man had never felt so alive, here in Alex’s grasp, dancing to early 2000’s pop, he managed to get lost in Alex’s silky hair and glittering eyes, drunk on their proximity. Drunk on freedom, just the two boys and the music.
“I think I’m in love with you.” John’s usual loud, confident voice barely registered above whisper.
Alex’s eyes traveled up to connect with John’s as the taller boy held his breath, waiting for the response, “I think I’m in love with you too.”
John’s lips melted onto Alex’s, tasting faintly of bubble gum and cigarette smoke, the kiss was like all the fireworks in the world had exploded at once, it was as if John was at Chicago Pride all over again. This kiss tasted perfect, like… Home. Nothing else existed right now to John, just Alex and his lips.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” A low, unmistakable growl came from the door of the bar, pulling the boys out of their trance and causing John to leap away from Alex like he was hot iron. Mr Hamilton stood framed in the doorway, his face plastered with a murderous scowl. “You little piece of shit!” Alex’s father leered as he approached his son who seemed to shrink at his words, “To think this whole time you’ve been a filthy fucking fag!” Mr Hamilton's booming yell seemed to make the whole bar shake.
Alex just stood there and took his father’s onslaught, but John couldn’t bear it, “Shut the fuck up," his voice low and even at first, but soon raised to that of Mr Hamilton's, "How dare you speak to your son like that!”
“That’s not my son!” The older man bellowed like an angered bull, his face began to turn purple, “You’ve corrupted him! With your queer ways!”
Mr Hamilton stepped forward to swing at John but Alex stopped him, standing in between his father and John causing his father's swing to falter “Get away from him, Dad.”
“Fine, you wanna stick up for your little fag boyfriend then go right ahead, suffer the consequences” Mr Hamilton raised his fist once more but John was quicker, socking the older man right in his left eye.
“You hit him, and I’ll make sure they never find your fucking body” John snarled at Alex’s father.
“You little fag!” Mr Hamilton swung once again but again John was too quick, landing his fist in Alex’s father’s nose with a sickening crunch, blood started to drip from the older man’s probably broken nose. “I’ll kill you.” The older man’s voice had deepened, his venomous words thundering through the walls.
“Oh please,” John threw a smirk over his shoulder as he and Alex made for the door “I’ve been running my whole life, if we don't want to be found, we'll never be fucking found!”
“You’re fired!” Mr Hamilton’s voice cracked and spit flew from his mouth as he screamed at the boys retreating backs.
“My three months were up anyway” John shot back, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Not you, fleabag.” the bloody man jeered once again, “I was talking to Alexander.”
“Well I’m never coming back!” Alex raised his voice for the first time as he turned to face his father, “I hate you too much to ever want to set foot in this fucking town again! All you do is treat me like a child and you've shown me any respect in life!" Alex's father tried to interject but his son wasn't finished "you're a disgusting man with deplorable views on the world which will see you on the wrong side of history, I'm so glad that i finally have the chance to leave this godforsaken town and a man who I've call father my whole life, but never for a fucking second have you been a proper dad." Alex followed John out of the bar, slamming the door behind them. Leaving Alex's father with a look of pure murder on his face, redder than the strawberries John had picked for a summer in California
-
“Where we headin’ Alex?” John turned to cast a worried look at Alex as he threw a duffel bag of clothing unceremoniously into the back and slid into the passenger seat.
“Don’t know,” Alex replied honestly, but his big eyes met John’s and the excitement took John by surprise, Alex was ready to run. “I’ve always kinda wanted to go to Maine, really pretty forests there.”
“Last time I spoke to Hercules, he was in Brownville, Maine,” John smiled as he saw unbound excitement flare in Alex’s eyes once again. “Alright let’s go!” The engine roared to life and John took off down the road out of town.
-
As they passed the sign saying ‘Leaving Imperial’, John pulled the car onto the shoulder and took out a dirty old journal from the glove compartment and scribbled something down in it under the heading labelled ‘Imperial, NE’.
“What’s that?” Alex asked trying to read John’s messy handwriting.
“I keep a record of all the places I’ve been and the things that happened there,” John replied and smiled over to where Alex was perched in his passenger seat. “Helps me tell my stories.”
As the car sped off once again towards the highway, Alex picked up the journal to read the untidy scrawl under the heading of his hometown. Alex grinned as he glanced down to see what was written, a happy tear drop suddenly hit the page.
Alex didn't even know he was crying, as he stuck his head out the window and drank in the cold air whipping his hair back.
John glanced over at Alex and smiled a smile that had never conveyed so much revelry before. He'd never felt so happy driving away from somewhere.