#pgfr

Lance’s eyebrows twitched. “All right, Silver, come on out,” he smirked cockily and waited for hot breath to grace his neck or a strong arm to wrap around his waist.

“Is this a game? I like games,” Lance said enticingly, taking a few careful steps forward, listening intently for the man’s approach. “I can play all night,” he masked his unease. Silver had never not been there before. Lance wasn’t sure what he was up to. He waited, but the room remained silent and still. It appeared he was truly alone.

Using the light from his phone, Lance fumbled along the wall until he found a switch and flicked it on, giving the room its usual purple hue. He wandered over to the half couch and sat, checking the time on his phone. It was well within their usual window, maybe a little on the early side but still. Lance furrowed his brow.

He’s probably just running late…

He’ll show up soon, and when he does, I’ll be ready!

Lance lay back on the couch. He passed the time by trying out sexy poses he could be in when Silver finally arrived. He turned on one side with a knee raised and propped his face up with one hand, framing it with a finger gun. He tried on a sly smile. It felt a little cheesy, so he rolled onto his stomach, bent his legs at the knee, and gazed seductively at the door. He held that pose for a few seconds then thought of a better one. He kicked his legs over the back of the couch and lay on his back with his arms draped around his head, hiking up his shirt to expose a few inches of midriff. Lance carried on, trying some other positions until he grew bored and settled on his side in no particular pose at all. He inched into the spot where he had slept, skin against skin, next to Silver the week before. He sighed, remembering the gentle hands that had tickled over his body, the soft lips that had kissed his skin until he’d fallen asleep, and the tight arms that had held him in the morning. Lance groaned and kicked his legs in frustration.

Where is he…

There was a growing tightness in his chest coupled with a pang of doubt in his gut. Something felt off. Lance’s poured himself a drink to calm the churning in his stomach.

He’s gonna be here… He assured himself and drained his cup all in one go then poured himself another.

A tedious thirty minutes later Lance was on his back, bored, and nursing a healthy buzz. He sighed and scrolled through his social media for what must have been the tenth time. Something shining on the back of the sofa caught his eye. He delicately pulled free a silvery-white strand that had been caught in the fabric of the couch.

His hair…

He held it up and twisted it between his fingers, watching it shimmer in the dim light. It was incredibly stupid the way his stomach was somersaulting, and Lance was mildly annoyed by it. But, he also wanted to see Silver so badly.

Did he forget? How could he forget…

Frustration was rising inside him, and the alcohol wasn’t helping keep it at bay. It had been well over an hour, the clock ticking closer to midnight. Sometimes they were already done by that time. Lance started to think that Silver wasn’t going to show.

No, he distinctly said ‘see you next week’…

Lance could picture it clear as day and touched his cheek where the man had planted a kiss - a promise - just after. Lance had to believe he was coming. He had to. Silver wouldn’t let him down.

And so he waited…

I mean, he’s the head of a gang… he’s probably got important things to deal with…

Things more important than you… a mean part of Lance’s mind said. He scrunched up his face and refilled his glass.

And waited…

Maybe he’s punishing me for trying to get his name…

I guess I kind of deserve it…

And waited.

Or… maybe he’s…

sending me a message…

The bottom of Lance’s stomach finally dropped as it had been threatening to all night. He lay on his back staring into the dark, emptiness of the ceiling. He never would have tried to get Silver’s name if he’d known it would end up like this. He hoped against hope that it was only punishment, that it was only temporary, that he hadn’t pissed Silver off to the point that… He winced. The other explanation kicking around in his mind was far worse.

Maybe he doesn’t want to see me anymore…

He looked at the silver strand still draped across his palm and felt cold inside. It was a stark contrast to his last visit.

Is that it? Is it over?

He lugged his body up to a seated position, not wanting to believe it. He leaned his elbows on his knees, turning with the silky, white strand between his fingers. He watched the time tick over to 12:45 on his phone. The last bus back was just before 1am. He let the strand of hair slip through his grip and watched it waft gently to the floor.