“Might sound better for it,” Sehun teases, slapping Kayn on the thigh, muscle tight and taunt beneath a sweet pair of jeans.  Happy with something in his mouth, Sehun cracks the window down further and laughs.  “s’probably because you are. Dumbass.” It’s said with love.  When the truck pulls into the bright-ass, washed out florescents, Sehun snorts and fiddles in his pocket for a damp wad of cash and gives Kayn the cigarette.  “Do I look like a maid? Get out and get it on your own damn self.”  Bangs falling in his eyes, Sehun throws the door open and hops out, boots landing hard on the pavement.  Inside, the cashier looks bored as fuck slumped over behind a glass wall, shitty game show on a cinderblock television.  Whitney Houston plays on the radio.  Sehun heads towards the coolers in the back, swiping up a few colored bags and squares that catch his eyes as he goes.  Unwraps a lollipop and sticks it right in his mouth.  Takes a handful more just in case.  The rolling’ll come soon. They’ll be thankful.  How he’s able to make two trips is still lost on him ——- and despite his words, he grabs something just for Kayn.  Just in case.  “Dude,” he says when he sees Kayn again,  “Gimmie your wallet.” A ripped-up ten isn’t gonna cover it.

    “Who knows.  Might be good for the throat.  Gargle that shit and came out sounding like Jimi Hendrix,” Sehun says as he pokes Kayn in the thigh.  Squawks when Kayn jacks his cigarette, demands a light with a tilt of his chin and Sehun grumbles.  “Fucking spoiled princess,” he mutters.  Flicks the wheel and cups a hand around the flame anyway.  “Didn’t say I wanted to breathe my fuckin balls off.”  Once Kayn’s taken care of, Sehun goes to light himself another when the wheel clicks.  Chamber’s empty.  Groaning, he drops his head back against the seat of the car.  “You happy now?  Asshole.”  Desperate for his smoke, Sehun makes a grab for the one’s Kayn’s got.  Figures it’s rightfully his.  Taken out of his own two lips.  “Oh, shit man— Pull up there.  Over there at that store.”  Sehun says and slaps a hand against the driver’s seat.  The manager jumps, surprised.  Up ahead’s a convenience store, motherfucking salvation.  “Dude.  I want some cider and a goddamn candy bar.“

    “Oh, come on.  She’d probably suck your dick.  Dentures out and all,” Bodhi grins, good and clean.  He’s sweating so much his balls are crying inside his cargo shorts.  He’s happy he’d forgone boxers——more to blame on the lack of clean laundry than intention.  But, y’know.  Small favors.  Grumbling, he moves out of the way when Onyx pops open to the register, but giddily bounces on his heels.  “Hell yeah, hell yeah.  Get some chips, too.  And some of that real fruity gum.  Y’know, the kind the guy at that party the other night had?  Purple and shit?”  Onyx knows what he likes.  Blue and red slushie, a dash of lime if they have it.  Any kind of chips with cheese or vinegar.  

      Kayn’s sticking close.  Sehun doesn’t mind.  “You suggesting we drink pool water?”  It’ll be nice to dive in and wash off all the gross — the beer, the blood, the glitter.  The bits and pieces of whatever’s soaking through his skin right now.  When they step outside the bar, Sehun takes in a deep, deep breath of fresh enough air.  It’s summer, but the wind coming off the beach a few blocks over is enough to wipe away the urban stench.  Sehun immediately picks out a cigarette, sticks it between his lips and offers one to Kayn, “Feeling risky, man?”  Grabbing a lighter from the center console, Sehun slides across the back seat to sit by the far window and settles in.  Rolls the window down.  “Fuck, man, it’s fucking hot,” he sighs, running a hand through his damp hair, pushing it back off his forehead.  The car starts up and they’re heading to the freeway.  “We need fans in fucking Canada or some shit.  Somewhere cold for a change.”

       “Fuckin——again?”  He hisses.  Horny fucks.  Couldn’t keep their hands off each other for a whole ass day.  Sehun swears under his breath and drags Kayn through the crowd, thick and cloistered in the hall.  Breath hot and wet, all unaware of who’s passing between them in the dark just now.  He tugs Kayn closer.  When they’re at the mouth of the hall, Sehun leans close to Kayn and insists, “Pool sounds fucking fantastic.”  Prods him towards the door.  Roadies’ll take care of the shit backstage.  It’s been a while since Sehun’s had to pack up his own kit.  As the band on stage rages to some punk shit and a crowd forms, Sehun looks at Kayn.  Feels lighter than usual when he demands,  “Get me the fuck out of here, yeah?”

      It’s warm in the room.  Close to sweltering.  Sehun looks at Kayn with something heavy and risky, is maybe a little disappointed Kayn’s not looking at him at all.  So, he drops his eyes to the wadded-up napkin in his hand.  Brown stained with blood.  Clenches a fist and hisses when they ooze more.  “Fucking hell, man,” he hisses.  Because what the fuck’s in his system now?  (  but does he care?  when has he before?  )  “Let’s just——get outta here before one of us catches typhoid.”  Goes back to the sink and washes his hands again.  Sehun trades the soiled napkin for a fresh one, wraps it around his knuckles tight.  He moves to bully Kayn back out the door when he snatches the beer bottle away to take for himself.  Washes out a powdery, dry taste with something bubbly and stale.  Better.  

      “Fisting your girlfriend, the fuck you think I was doing,”  Sehun shot back, grumpy.  He was bleeding and battered and bruised——and not in a fun way, either.  Dealing with this shit in a piss-soaked restroom.  Kayn’s got a lot of fucking nerve—  “What?”  Blinks wide-eyed in Kayn’s face, who’s suddenly so damn close.  But maybe that’s opportunity enough.  Maybe Sehun’s the one who’s leaned forward or maybe it’s Kayn, but before he can say I’m on something, he’s following the motions of someone who’s done this one too many times.  Tongue sliding past lips, swapping spit for something more.  Wants to add to the cocktail that’s become his body because that’s all there is to do nowadays.  Test the limits and break them.  When Sehun pulls back, he staggers a step and leans against the wall.  Tests the taste on his lips, then his tongue.  Dares to ask, “What’d you give me?”

       Grumbling, Sehun rips the door open.  Kayn’s there, bottles in hand and expectation in his eyes.  Talking in that low ass voice.  What the hell.  “Better be a million ass dollars and a trip back to the hotel,” Sehun replies, voice gruff.  Hoarse and brittle from the set.  But he steps back, goes to the water and rips off another paper towel to wrap around his hand.  “Fuck, man.  This place is nasty.  Who booked this shit again?”  He’ll need a tetanus shot after this shit.  No doubt.  Looking in the mirror, Sehun wets his hands again and combs the clean one through his hair, pushing it off the sweltering, shiny mess that it his face.  Catches Kayn in the mirror and glances away fast.  “m’like.  Buzzing out my skin.”