[Sullivan; All the Way Down by Kelela]

SIX: when you meet a boy.

January 25th, 2016

The sound of crying had woken me up, followed by a hard shove to my back...then another. By the third jolt, my eyes had snapped open, my body turning to catch my boyfriend thrashing haphazardly on my twin bed, if I wasn't the one on the edge, he would've fallen off completely. Paul's body was covered in sweat, his eyes screwed tight as he panted and he was still for a second.

Then he started up again. I wasn't sure what to do when someone else was having a bad dream, I was never the comforter, always the one who needed comfort so at the time, I was nervous and hungover. He looked like he needed me and I wasn't sure if I was even capable of being there. But I had to, this wasn't just a simple bad dream, Paul was having a nightmare.

His hands were balled into fists, tight around the comforter and he stiffened fully, his body screaming. I found myself ignoring everything I had ever been taught about dealing with someone having a bad dream because I knew how terrible it was. Reaching over, I went to stir him awake, hoping he wouldn't make too much noise.

"Baby..." Pet names always calmed me down, that and physical touch but Paul wasn't big on the latter, not when he wasn't aware prior. I shook him lightly and only slightly, backing off when it felt like he was coming to. His face was red as he relaxed a bit and I watched him, tension dissipating form his bones. He jolted when I called him for a second time, eyes snapping open and they were filled with tears, "baby, again?"

He'd told me about the nightmares, they'd been reoccurring during the #MeToo movement, reoccurring once he started to open up about his experience online and I wasn't sure how to help him, I didn't realize that my actions the night before did nothing but worsen it. I thought that I knew everything but when Paul told me he wanted to open up about his assault... online, I thought he would have handled it better.

But it'd been months now and I thought he was getting better, I thought he was recovering as he'd started therapy but having to pull open the closet and let your skeletons out was almost like reliving the situation over and over and over again. Everyday there were more allegations brought to the light and he was thinking about it again, he wouldn't let himself forget because he wanted people to know. He always strived for something bigger than him despite it being at the expense of his own health. His therapist had warned me of it, he'd told me that Paul would need some time, that it would be tough but I wasn't ready for the useless feeling that came along with it.

I couldn't help him anymore than being there, this was something he had to do on his own and it felt selfish, it did, especially when he'd done so much for me. "Come here."

"I'm sorry." His voice was gritty and he was still shaking, twining his arms around my neck, he bring his face into my shoulder and I held him to me, my fingertips just barely grazing his waist. Laying back, I pulled him with me and intertwine our legs, hoping that it would provide the comfort he needed. I wasn't sure how to be needed but I was learning to let him lean on me and to keep him upright. I didn't know if he were apologizing for this or our fight and I could feel him breaking in my arms.

Sighing, I knew he'd never stop feeling apologetic, he always felt bad for putting so much pressure on me but I had forgotten the reassurances. "Do you wanna talk about it?" My hand was rubbing small circles on his back and he shook his head almost hesitantly.

"No."  And maybe he'd declined so much that it almost felt pointless to ask, that was later a problem, I didn't ask enough. My head was throbbing and I didn't care enough to ask anymore.

: : :

I'd gotten used to answering to no one, hell, I didn't even answer to myself. I didn't have anyone here to disappoint anymore so who the fuck did Wren think he was? He'd known me for what, two months? And even throughout those two months, I was so distant that he definitely didn't know anything about me besides what size condom I wore or where my dorm was. Wren didn't know me well enough- and I didn't know him well enough to say any of that?

I didn't know him well enough to defend him from some dick? Who the fuck did he think he was?

What the fuck was I even mad about?

I didn't know but when he'd turned around and went back to dancing with some friends he didn't arrive with, I found myself at the bar. I'd been an observer for the night and the only time I'd tried to have fun, I ended up getting told off by a boy half my size, the hope for the night was slowly dwindling down and I wasn't sure how Wren just went back to dancing.

But if he didn't care, neither did I, I had enough experience of fucking up my own life trying to care for someone else and I wasn't going to waste a good buzz. I wasn't one to waste a good view and the bartender was a sight, he was pretty, I wouldn't have called him anything else. He was small with a dark complexion and a short cut and he was wearing close to nothing. I tried my best not to pay much mind as I wasn't looking for conversation but the drink in my hand was halfway gone and I would need another soon.

Deciphering whether or not I wanted him in my bed seemed objectifying and the song playing earlier had ran through my head. I tried not to think of Paul.

I tried not to think at all.

"So, do you always have that look in your eye or has someone pissed you off?" That was the sound of an inquiring voice, the stool beside me had pulled out. The guy that followed had sat down at the bar as well and the bartender who'd previously been staring holes into my head found a new subject to observe. I was sipping a rum and coke that was definitely too much coke, a voice lingered on the side of me for a second.

I'd ignored every guy that had approached me by then, them not staying long as they were mostly thiner twinks that didn't have the courage to sit too long... either that or I wasn't hot enough to stomach the confrontational responses. I wasn't even interested in trying to find a fuck for the night, I was realizing as I'd been sitting there for twenty minutes now and I hadn't made a pass at the bartender who was definitely my type... maybe it was the fact that I would've rather drank my weight that night.

I was lost in my own head, not paying much mind to anything other than the warmth of my chest and how hot it was getting in there. When I hadn't spoken, the man beside me raised his hands and I still hadn't seen much of him, I wondered how much he'd try. "Hey, I don't mind it, it's kinda hot." His long legs weren't grazing mine like the last few, he wasn't touching me at all. He'd shrugged when I didn't respond and put a glass to his lips.

The bar had been amping up as more people rolled in, I wondered how early we were exactly and how late the night would really start. This wasn't my scene, I was starting to realize, maybe it had a lot to do with me in general but I found myself resonating more with kickbacks or frat houses where I could get so wasted and still be able to walk back to campus. Or, at least, that was what I told myself but it had been a few weeks since seeing Paul and I hadn't done much to leave my room let alone the dorm... not when I wasn't fucking Wren.

And then I was thinking about Paul again, the night replayed in my head and the I love you stuck like it were the first time again. I was convincing myself it were in my head because the way he said my name... he didn't love me anymore, the way he looked at me wasn't the same.

Stop fucking thinking about him.

I had to, I'd already given the ring back, what was done was done and there was no way around it. I was forgetting about Paul, as soon as humanly possible because he didn't love me anymore.

And I couldn't love him, I'd go insane. I had to try harder to forget, I couldn't make this harder for him. Please don't make this harder for me.

At that, I found myself assessing the dark haired man beside me and I wondered why it took me so long. He was cute, looked to be in his young twenties with thick black eyebrows and intense brown eyes. There was a smile on his full lips, stubble perfectly sculpting his face and the corners of his eyes crinkled. He was built, about my stature completely but even if we were the same height, he looked almost taller as proportioned as he was, his legs were longer in washed out black jeans that were ripped at his ankle boots and a tight white tee on, a chain nestled underneath and a jean jacket across his arm. He leaned on the bar, placing his jacket over his lap.

He had a nice smile and his side profile was hot as well, he busied himself talking to the bartender, a laugh in his voice and I didn't care much for the words that left his mouth, but he'd called me hot and there was a burning in my stomach.

He was very attractive and I was very buzzed so maybe that had a lot to do with me responding but I did. My glass was in my hand then, it cold on my warm skin. It was hot, all the bodies around and I wasn't sure how Wren was still dancing. "Kinda?"

He must've not expected me to respond, had given up already, because at my voice, a smile had spread across his full lips and he'd looked down, not even turning towards me.

"Okay, very hot."

Smiling sheepishly, he looked over at me and I felt a laugh threatening to spill past my lips. There was a warm feeling in my chest that had everything to do with the liquor in my bloodstream and I felt less stiff, almost completely fluid, all the intensity in my stance had dissipated. Drinking was always helpful for me, even if it only helped with evading my problems, I enjoyed being carefree even if just for a little bit. "But cut me some slack, I'm not usually this bold."

And I wasn't either. I didn't normally talk to anyone I was attracted to, not this much because I just didn't want to go through the motions again. I didn't want to get hooked on someone else just for them to decide I wasn't worth it and I... wasn't ready. I wasn't ready at all, I had just given Paul his ring back and as numb as I had been, I didn't want to reopen wounds by sleeping with someone new.

And what if I felt even emptier? What if this was... it for me? What if everything after Paul was just sex, what if I wasn't to be loved the same?

"What's the difference now?" My voice was light and it left before I could decide whether or not I wanted it to. Maybe I would feel more like myself with someone new, maybe I could forget about every fucking thing that haunted me. The guy next to me let out a laugh that was somewhat airy, looking down at his arms crossed over the bar before looking back over at me and if possible, he looked even cuter. I tried not to compare.

He laughed. "The tequila shots before I got here." Then I realized just how tipsy he was and then how tipsy I was and it kept me calm for some reason, knowing that it would stop this from going any further the next day. There was something that felt safer about us both being fucked up, I knew I would sleep with him if given the chance that night and if we were both drunk, we wouldn't remember it. He didn't have to be anything more than a guy I flirted with at a bar and possibly went back with. "It's my friend's 21st."

I didn't ask.

Looking over at the boy, I bit into my lip, trying not to say anything rude. "And you're?"

I wasn't a big flirt, not even after Paul and I broke up, I wasn't ever good at it. There was no real reason for me to be, I didn't like Wren and all I had to do with him was ask. This boy was cute, I didn't do cute, I didn't do back and forth exchanges at bars, I didn't talk to anyone I had sex with and I didn't do anything further beyond sex.

I was becoming a person I didn't recognize and I wasn't sure how to stop.

"Twenty but I'll be twenty-one in May so they normally cut me some slack." He smiled, eyes glazed over and he looked giddy as he stood on his toes instead of sitting now, he was leaning forward on the bar with his eyes on the boy behind it. I wondered if he went there often.

"I meant your name."

Blushing, his smile went small. "Oh." Holding a hand out, his skin was soft as he introduced himself and that was also cute. "Sullivan Clemons." He seemed like a completely different person than before but maybe that had everything to do with the drinks we'd both been throwing back. He was charming though, that much was evident and then I realized the empty shot glasses next to him and he was nearly drunk. I tried not to think too much, tried not to think about how I seemed to have a thing for politeness, Paul was so polite and his full name was unique, maybe I liked uncommon names as well.

Sullivan had tan skin and a beard that I normally wouldn't have been attracted to, I was starting to develop a type and I wasn't quite sure what it is but I knew Sullivan had similar facial hair to Paul. Sullivan was about my size and I wasn't sure how I went from Wren to someone like him.

"Julian Douglas."

Maybe I shouldn't have given my name, I never really did on hookup apps, but he wouldn't remember anyways. It wasn't like I was ever gonna see him again, he probably won't even be attracted to me once sober.

He nodded and I wasn't sure what it was but I was starting to feel remorseful for fighting with Wren. I didn't want to get too drunk, not to where I couldn't be responsible because I knew how I got when that happened. I was starting to feel worried, a little nervous. With Danny, I was always the more sober one... now, that had to be good for me.

Sullivan smiled, "cute." His eyes were piercing, them digging deeper into me than I would've liked and I realized that that was my favorite feature of his. I liked brown eyes, I especially loved when he smiled and they crinkled up at the sides. I couldn't stare too long, watching him as I tried to keep myself busy. I could feel my nerves rising when I thought about Wren and I told myself I had his location, that he knew what he was doing, that he had done this before, we were safe. "So, how many guys have offered a drink tonight?"

I found myself calming down then, remembering that I wasn't seventeen anymore and I had been on my own for a while now, I could handle this. They called alcohol a depressant and maybe I shouldn't have been drinking so much without my anti-depressants. Nodding when my throat felt less cotton-clogged, I answered his question. "Three." I didn't care much, I hadn't had much reason to be sober, I was here to have fun and I needed to stop getting in the way of my own life.

"Can I make it four?" The boy beside me had smirked, looking over and his eyes had trailed to my lips as I licked them, the salt from the rim of the glass tasting bitter on my tongue.

Looking over at him, I raised an eyebrow. What did I have to lose? "You tryna get me drunk?" I'd countered with a laugh in my voice to seem less accusing. Was this flirting? I was thankful that the alcohol made it a little harder to digest, I wasn't as cautious and I was okay with that.  "Vodka straight."

The laugh he let out after that was cuter than anything else he'd done and he sat up a little, "What are you? A frat boy?" With a smile, he looked at the bartender again and rattled off drinks that I'd never heard of. All I knew were cheap mixes and cheap beer. "Hey, Tone, can I get a daiquiri extra lime and a red zone?" I wasn't sure which one was for me but his hand on mine had stopped me from asking, I was just thankful I didn't have to show my fake ID and the bartender had stopped looking at me suspiciously, Wren had bought all my drinks for the night so far.

I wasn't even sure if he'd actually bought them either.

"Tip, no one drinks straight vodka if they're trying to enjoy a gay club for the first time."

Sitting back, I tried to seem more nonchalant but the way he was looking at me had my stomach churning. I was so attracted to him and I knew that he knew it by now. "How do you know it's my first time?" At that, he leant closer and my breath caught in my throat.

"Oh, come on, you look lost." His voice was softer and quieter due to closer proximity, it was sexy and if I was standing, my knees would've been weak. He wasn't even trying, that much was evident, he was just talking and my body was screaming for attention. "You're sitting at  the bar by yourself for one thing. You haven't spoken to Tony and you're so straight passing."

"Straight passing?" That was the second time I'd heard that that night and it was confusing. My anxiousness had dissipated with my anger but calmer, I was settling back into my partial drunkenness. I'd laughed then, maybe it was the alcohol but I felt kinda like I was floating, my head was swimming in a good way and I was enjoying myself now.

Scanning over me, he paused at my lips before flickering back up to my eyes. "Don't worry, it looks good on you." He'd voiced, it sultry and I wondered how he sounded saying my name. "You go to school around here?"

"Santa Barbara."

"Baseball?" He'd instantly retorted, and I wondered what about me said baseball player.

"Soccer," I'd answered, my brows furrowed and he nodded, teeth clicking. "Why?"

"You're tall... athletic build, and you have a pretty nice ass." How long had he been watching me? I'd been sitting down this whole time. Anyone else, that would've felt creepy but I was more nervous than weirded out, what if he wasn't actually into me? He was way too hot to even give me this attention. "So you're either verse or you play a sport."

Was I verse? I mean, I'd only bottomed for Paul and I didn't think being the bottom in a relationship where my boyfriend couldn't bottom... made me a bottom. I topped Wren consistently and everyone else I had sex with. "Thanks?"

I was having so much sex recently and I was thinking of fucking Sullivan on first meeting. There was something wrong with me and normally, when I was drunk I didn't give myself time to acknowledge it but I kept thinking. And I was feeling guilty now, almost as if I was the one who rejected Paul. Fuck Paul.

Fuck him. He moved on, he doesn't love me anymore.

Maybe I was just angry that he'd given up even though I didn't have the right to be. He had every right to reject me especially being with Isaiah now, he didn't need me anymore and sex was just fucking sex. I didn't need him, at all actually.

Connecting eyes with the beautiful man beside me, I watched as a nervous look crossed his face and then he backtracked. "It's a compliment."

I was angry and Sullivan must've sensed it as my mood deflated. "What about you? You in school?" I tried, I needed to try harder to forget him. We just have to try harder. He was over me and I was over him, I had to be.

"You're interested?" He'd asked in response and I didn't give myself time to ponder that question.

"Just making conversation."

At that, he grinned, nodding. "I'm doing med at Westmont." I didn't know when the drinks had been sat in front of us, maybe I was too lost in my own head but he was sipping on a frozen clear drink in a curved glass and there was a blood red drink in front of me.

"You wanna be a doctor?" I'd offered, lifting the glass to me lips and it tasted like cranberry and vodka but with a different fruity flavor as well and it might've been my new favorite drink.

"A surgeon."

"Wow." Nobody I knew was saving lives, I mean if you didn't count Benji...Paul was a fucking artist.

"What about you?" He'd asked. "Soccer's great for your calves but it's not necessarily a major."

I wasn't sure why I was telling him about my aspirations but something about him felt kind of inviting and I wasn't just talking to him to fuck anymore, maybe drunk me was a people person. "I wanna be a sport's journalist." He didn't say anything but maybe I didn't give him time to because almost instantly, I'd shrugged. "Seems small sitting next to Mr. MD."

And as if I asked for it, he reassured me. "You'll never get bored doing something you love." His voice was light and it helped, it was a momentary feeling of validation that swept through me and I wasn't sure if it was because of him entirely but this night was feeling a little more okay than it did ten minutes ago and it was kind of scaring me. "If it makes you feel any better, I had to watch a live birth about six hours ago and I never wanna see another vagina in my life."

That made me laugh and I recalled the last time I'd even been with a girl.

"They're not that bad." They weren't. They weren't my preference, or at least, I'd convinced myself they weren't. I had fallen in love with a man, I liked men... but women were hot too.

Sullivan smirked and I wasn't sure if he was reading me as being in the closet or not but did I care to correct a complete stranger? I didn't want to get into the topic of my bisexuality and then I realized where we were. "Is that why you're in a gay club?"

I felt myself shaking my head, looking down at my glass and Sullivan had been closer than before, I could feel his knee touching mine then and I wasn't sure why I'd said what I did but he didn't seem to mind. "I came with someone." That didn't phase him.

Not at all actually because his next question was unexpected and I wondered how confident he was, had to be extremely especially with that face. "Can I have your number?" That took me back and maybe he, himself, hadn't expected it because instantly, he went to elaborate. "It's just... I'd like to see you again."

And it was getting too close, too personal now.

I wasn't ready for that so before I could say something stupid, something that led to more than what it needed to, I shook my head. And then I was standing up and he'd looked confused. His eyes were wide but so were mine and I almost felt bad. My drink was still full and I'd left it there, "No, I-I-I'm sorry." How I let myself forget for so long was beyond me but there was so much going through my head then and it was so abrupt it scared me. "I-I can't, sorry."

: : :

January 24th 2016
"You're drunk." He was angry. It was rush week and he'd come to visit me in California. At first, it was great, it was so great seeing my boyfriend but we'd been getting into little fights every so often I wasn't sure how amazing we were doing all I knew was I wanted Paul and he was playing hard to get.

Kicking my shoes off, I went to undo my jeans. I was horny and I knew Danny wouldn't be back that night. "I had a drink, relax." And I wasn't drunk, not really but I had smoked a little. He shouldn't have been as upset as he was, we smoked together occasionally on our road trip, he knew I liked it and that it wasn't just an us thing anymore. I wasn't sure why he was acting angry but I didn't like it.

Sitting on my bed, I watched as Paul sat up. He'd been in one of my shirts, his glasses on and he was reading a book he'd brought with him. At the sight of me, he'd closed it and I realized how much skin he had on show.

Leaning down to kiss him, he pulled away in a peck, wiping the back of his mouth almost instantly.

"That why you taste like the inside of a frat house?" Rolling my eyes, I sunk into his body, leaning down to kiss at his exposed thighs. Maybe I did drink too much because I was slightly off balance as I fell into him, fumbling to take my shirt off a second later. I wasn't feeling much like myself, not recently and I knew he could sense it but I didn't think it was enough to worry about.

"Julian." His voice was weak as he sat back, melting into my touch and I ran my hands up past his briefs and over the sides of his waist. He was sighing, his finger playing with the hair on the nape of my neck and I smiled into the kiss I'd been placing near the mole on his upper thigh.

"I missed you." My voice was muffled but he'd heard it all the same and Paul had pulled his leg further up and away from me. I'd went to grip his ankle loosely but he'd shook me off and I tried to understand why he didn't want to be touched.

"You could've been with me." He spoke, pulling his legs to his chest and he'd went to grab his book off my desk.

"You said no."

He'd laughed then, almost cynically and I barely caught it. "Because I didn't want to spend our time together, my first break in months, taking care of my wasted boyfriend." And he always did have a problem with me drinking, he'd never outright said it but he obviously didn't approve. But just because my boyfriend was an addict didn't mean I had to refrain as well. "If you're gonna drink, at least learn your limits."

Maybe I was still angry he kept it from me.

I wasn't sure where his confidence went and later on, I realized that I was ruining it. It was my fault that he didn't say much about the incident afterwards, he didn't say anything the next morning, not when I was hungover and I didn't think of it as a big deal.

Rolling my eyes, I simply sat back, running a finger over exposed leg. "Mhm."

"Stop." His voice was soft as he opened his book and he was done with me for the night, I could tell. He looked so annoyed but it just didn't feel that serious to me, most of our arguments were resolved two seconds later and then we had  mind-blowing sex. Why couldn't we just skip the argument?

"You want me to?"

And he looked almost disgusted, furrowing his brows and I could hear his voice break, I could hear how upset he was. "I'm not having sex with you when you're drunk."

I forgot that he hated to taste the alcohol on my lips, I'd forgotten how much of a trigger it was for him. His nightmare was my fault.

A/N:

OKAY SO I FINALLY KNOW WHERE I'M GOING WITH THIS STORY WOW.

Updated: Monday, May 13th.

Who is Sullivan? Is Julian making the right decisions by forgetting Paul? Can he?