Vertigo by theladychia
Title: Vertigo
Author: theladychia
Warning: Homosexuality. Untalented author.
Disclaimer: Based on the characters of the First Class Ticket to Nowhere saga by dadomz and i_l0ve_my_az.
Notes:
1. I shift tenses.
2. This takes place before dadomz's To Right a Wrong and i_l0ve_my_az's A Drink to Keep the Ghosts at Bay.
3. Comment and tell me what you think!
4. Enjoy!
Cyrus has been pining over Zeke for as long as he could remember but you can only take dying slowly on the inside for so long. A heated argument, some cheap liqour and a shoulder to cry on...smooth. Real smooth.
-o-
Awareness was slow to come to him, unwanted as it was. His head was pounding, his mouth was dry and the contents of his stomach seemed to want to see the light of day again.
There was movement beside him, the sound of bed sheets on naked skin loud in the silence. He opened his eyes to find a figure sitting mere inches from him on the edge of the bed. His back was to him but he didn’t need to see his face to know who it was.
“Az?” He croaked, his voice still raspy from sleep. His friend turned to face him, the corners of his mouth turned slightly upward which, for Azrael Mortensen, was as big a smile as you were gonna get.
“Were you expecting someone else?” His friend asked. There was humor in his voice as it was an automatic response but his brain caught up with his mouth and there was an abrupt change in his mood.
“What?” Cyrus asked, noting the shift of his friend’s disposition. He tried to move closer to Az but gasped when he felt a little pain. Confused, he moved again and groaned for there was indeed a familiar ache on his backside and along his thighs.
“What the hell?” He looked at Az, his eyes begging for answers.
Then he noticed that he and Az were both naked and the events of the night before came back to him like a blow to the gut.
Zeke leaving with Celine, himself leaving with Az. The quiet buzz of the bar. The drugs, the booze. And a shoulder to cry on becoming a lifeline to reality as he lay writhing in ecstasy.
Cy felt his mind reel. He sat up and heaved the entire contents of his stomach into the trash bin by the bed, barely aware of the strong hands holding his hair up and smoothing circles on his back. They stayed like that for a few minutes until his retching finally subsided to hiccups and he let himself fall back on the bed with his eyes closed, waiting for the queasiness to subside.
He felt Az leave the bed and heard him walk around the room but he couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes and see what he was doing; his mind in too much of a turmoil to care.
He found himself wishing he had the energy to beat himself within an inch from death for all the things he said to Zeke last night. He had no business asking what Zeke and Celine were doing together that night and had no right telling him off.
He and Zeke weren’t even together. For all he knew the guy really could be straight and that the time Zeke asked him out some time ago was just an experiment; the outcome of identity crisis at too young an age.
He should have said yes. But then again if he did where would they be now? Would Zeke still have run off with Celine? Would he still have slept with Az himself?
And did he really want to think about this right now when his head felt like exploding and his naked band leader was handing him a glass of water and some pills?
He blinked, not knowing when he had opened his eyes or when Az had sat back down on the bed. He looked at the pills then back at his friend.
“For the hangover.”, Az said and Cy sat up, popping the pills into his mouth without a word and dry-swallowing them. He managed to keep the feeling of the pills sliding down his esophagus from making him sick and turned to talk to Az.
“Breakfast.” His friend suddenly said, interrupting him before he could speak. “First we eat. And then we talk.”
The very mention of food and eating it made his stomach roil but he nodded anyway.
“Sounds like a plan.” He joked halfheartedly before slowly getting out of bed and picking his clothes up from the floor.
The next two hours had him feeling as if he were in a twilight zone; he moved through everything mechanically and in a daze, like a man on death row.
The talk with Az had been short, as always, and they had at least straightened out the important things. It was nobody’s fault and they were still friends. Neither of them mentioned Zeke.
He would have stayed a little longer but Juice arrived, crashing through the door and landing in a drunken heap inside the apartment. Cy took this as his cue to leave and Az walked him out the door.
“Need a lift?” Az asked, looking at him a little worriedly.
Cy shook his head and tried to smile. “Not the kind you mean.”
Author: theladychia
Warning: Homosexuality. Untalented author.
Disclaimer: Based on the characters of the First Class Ticket to Nowhere saga by dadomz and i_l0ve_my_az.
Notes:
1. I shift tenses.
2. This takes place before dadomz's To Right a Wrong and i_l0ve_my_az's A Drink to Keep the Ghosts at Bay.
3. Comment and tell me what you think!
4. Enjoy!
Cyrus has been pining over Zeke for as long as he could remember but you can only take dying slowly on the inside for so long. A heated argument, some cheap liqour and a shoulder to cry on...smooth. Real smooth.
-o-
Awareness was slow to come to him, unwanted as it was. His head was pounding, his mouth was dry and the contents of his stomach seemed to want to see the light of day again.
There was movement beside him, the sound of bed sheets on naked skin loud in the silence. He opened his eyes to find a figure sitting mere inches from him on the edge of the bed. His back was to him but he didn’t need to see his face to know who it was.
“Az?” He croaked, his voice still raspy from sleep. His friend turned to face him, the corners of his mouth turned slightly upward which, for Azrael Mortensen, was as big a smile as you were gonna get.
“Were you expecting someone else?” His friend asked. There was humor in his voice as it was an automatic response but his brain caught up with his mouth and there was an abrupt change in his mood.
“What?” Cyrus asked, noting the shift of his friend’s disposition. He tried to move closer to Az but gasped when he felt a little pain. Confused, he moved again and groaned for there was indeed a familiar ache on his backside and along his thighs.
“What the hell?” He looked at Az, his eyes begging for answers.
Then he noticed that he and Az were both naked and the events of the night before came back to him like a blow to the gut.
Zeke leaving with Celine, himself leaving with Az. The quiet buzz of the bar. The drugs, the booze. And a shoulder to cry on becoming a lifeline to reality as he lay writhing in ecstasy.
Cy felt his mind reel. He sat up and heaved the entire contents of his stomach into the trash bin by the bed, barely aware of the strong hands holding his hair up and smoothing circles on his back. They stayed like that for a few minutes until his retching finally subsided to hiccups and he let himself fall back on the bed with his eyes closed, waiting for the queasiness to subside.
He felt Az leave the bed and heard him walk around the room but he couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes and see what he was doing; his mind in too much of a turmoil to care.
He found himself wishing he had the energy to beat himself within an inch from death for all the things he said to Zeke last night. He had no business asking what Zeke and Celine were doing together that night and had no right telling him off.
He and Zeke weren’t even together. For all he knew the guy really could be straight and that the time Zeke asked him out some time ago was just an experiment; the outcome of identity crisis at too young an age.
He should have said yes. But then again if he did where would they be now? Would Zeke still have run off with Celine? Would he still have slept with Az himself?
And did he really want to think about this right now when his head felt like exploding and his naked band leader was handing him a glass of water and some pills?
He blinked, not knowing when he had opened his eyes or when Az had sat back down on the bed. He looked at the pills then back at his friend.
“For the hangover.”, Az said and Cy sat up, popping the pills into his mouth without a word and dry-swallowing them. He managed to keep the feeling of the pills sliding down his esophagus from making him sick and turned to talk to Az.
“Breakfast.” His friend suddenly said, interrupting him before he could speak. “First we eat. And then we talk.”
The very mention of food and eating it made his stomach roil but he nodded anyway.
“Sounds like a plan.” He joked halfheartedly before slowly getting out of bed and picking his clothes up from the floor.
The next two hours had him feeling as if he were in a twilight zone; he moved through everything mechanically and in a daze, like a man on death row.
The talk with Az had been short, as always, and they had at least straightened out the important things. It was nobody’s fault and they were still friends. Neither of them mentioned Zeke.
He would have stayed a little longer but Juice arrived, crashing through the door and landing in a drunken heap inside the apartment. Cy took this as his cue to leave and Az walked him out the door.
“Need a lift?” Az asked, looking at him a little worriedly.
Cy shook his head and tried to smile. “Not the kind you mean.”