Leaving the party behind
At last, they'd got away.
It had been a really good party, and Vic had enjoyed the hell out of it, but he hadn't been able to think of anything but Max all night, and towards the end he'd just wanted to grab the young alien's hand and run, leaving his friends, leaving the manic merriment and diving into the calm, quiet night where Max and he could be alone at last.
The stretching twist as they left the party signaled a return to their true age, and although Max as an older man had been devastatingly handsome, Vic found himself feeling somehow relieved to see him reassume his normal appearance, muscle and sinew and bone all perfect, but less weighty, less dense somehow.
The street outside was quiet. It had rained sometime earlier and the pavement glistened, sparkled under the lights that flashed from the top of the Circus. Vic turned to Max and stood gazing at him, love in his eyes.
"You got two choices, love. You come home with me, and we go to bed, and we make love, and then we do our best to live happily ever after, or you say now that you don't want to do this, that you don't want to deal with the baggage that I'm bringing. I know that my life is a little complicated, but I love you. I promise that I'll try never to hurt you, if you choose me, but this is your chance to get away before we're in too deep."
He lifted his hands as though to pull Max to him, but then let them fall to rest against his thighs, understanding that he should at least give his young love a fair chance at saying what he wanted. "Just... for me, this would be a forever kind of thing, and you need to know that," he whispered at last.
It had been a really good party, and Vic had enjoyed the hell out of it, but he hadn't been able to think of anything but Max all night, and towards the end he'd just wanted to grab the young alien's hand and run, leaving his friends, leaving the manic merriment and diving into the calm, quiet night where Max and he could be alone at last.
The stretching twist as they left the party signaled a return to their true age, and although Max as an older man had been devastatingly handsome, Vic found himself feeling somehow relieved to see him reassume his normal appearance, muscle and sinew and bone all perfect, but less weighty, less dense somehow.
The street outside was quiet. It had rained sometime earlier and the pavement glistened, sparkled under the lights that flashed from the top of the Circus. Vic turned to Max and stood gazing at him, love in his eyes.
"You got two choices, love. You come home with me, and we go to bed, and we make love, and then we do our best to live happily ever after, or you say now that you don't want to do this, that you don't want to deal with the baggage that I'm bringing. I know that my life is a little complicated, but I love you. I promise that I'll try never to hurt you, if you choose me, but this is your chance to get away before we're in too deep."
He lifted his hands as though to pull Max to him, but then let them fall to rest against his thighs, understanding that he should at least give his young love a fair chance at saying what he wanted. "Just... for me, this would be a forever kind of thing, and you need to know that," he whispered at last.