#threads.ivan

Patch wasn't sure what one was supposed to wear to lose their virginity to a stranger he'd met online. For about an hour he'd been standing in front of the mirror wall in his bathroom, trying on silk robes and more casual outfits, even at one point putting on his tennis gear and staring at himself for several moments. But then he'd tossed that outfit aside, as well, frowning as he'd gone back into his walk-in closet for the umpteenth time to rifle through rows of hangers.

Eventually he texted his sister, wondering if she had any better ideas than he did. Her only ideas came from books, suggesting lace and satin and silk. Which were things he had, sure, but not things he'd planned on needing tonight. He thought about asking Rosita, but she always seemed short-tempered towards him, and he was tired of annoying her. So instead he went back into the closet to seek out whatever lace and satin things he could find.

He settled on a poofy-sleeved satin shirt and silky black pants. He left the shirt unbuttoned a bit, and when he looked in the mirror he couldn't help but think he looked like one of the smooth-tongued vampires from the movies and shows he'd always secretly enjoyed. It felt weird, but he didn't think he looked bad, so it would do. Besides, Phoebe had said the books told her this was the way.

Kicking all of his discarded clothes back into his closet, he shut the door and didn't think twice about the maid who was going to have to clean it up the next day. All he could think about was Ivy, the attractive man who had matched with him on a silly little dating app. There had been a few others, but their messages had come in sort of hot, scaring Patch off for the time being. He hoped to return to them after tonight, if it went well and he found he enjoyed himself.

Barefoot, he padded out of the master bedroom and down the hall, nearly flying down the flight of stairs though he had no way of knowing if Ivy was nearby. He was anxious, and restless, pacing the kitchen a bit with his thumbnail between his teeth as he waited for the bell to ring.

The party had been fine. Iggy would swear it over and over again, if he were asked. Or maybe he wouldn't, now that he wasn't so sure it had been fine. It wasn't like this was his first go-around, a couple of patrons from the club were into it, and sometimes he was offered benefits of some kind just for showing up. Eye candy, that's what Iggy offered to be at these parties. But then the party favors showed up, and there wasn't much he wouldn't do for a hit here or there.

He vaguely remembered River showing up. Iggy thought he'd smiled at him, though he wasn't entirely in control of anything at that point. He remembered faces. Lots of faces, they came and went and it was fine. Everything was fine. He was floating, or maybe he was sinking, either way it felt nice. Warm and all-encompassing, and it didn't really matter what else was happening. Until he'd made the mistake of turning his head in River's direction again, and seeing an expression he never, ever wanted to see again.

That expression brought him down to earth a little bit. And suddenly the warmth wasn't so nice, it was stifling. He felt sticky and sweaty and sick. But what could he do? He'd agreed to this on some level, hadn't he?

Iggy didn't remember getting out from under any bodies. He didn't remember getting outside of the house and away from the music and the dim lights and the smell of too many bodies in a small space. He remembered blinking, slowly, when both River and Lake were there in front of him. And he remembered a car ride, though he didn't think he was upright for most of it.

The first thing he really, truly remembers is the shower. Water pouring down on him, rinsing the night off of him, and he was pretty sure he'd cried. Was someone there? Keeping him from collapsing? He couldn't remember that, but he remembers the water. It wasn't hot enough. He wanted it scalding, because otherwise he didn't think he could get clean enough. Was there ever going to be such a thing as clean enough, for him? His hair was dripping down his neck when he sat in a chair, something edible placed in front of him. Iggy was upright now, but limp, staring at the food without moving. He wanted to go to sleep, and he found himself leaning over the second he realized someone was near him, resting his head on River's shoulder and sniffling, reminded that he'd just cried in the shower. Fuck, how embarrassing.