Out of all the places Whittney could have taken me, this is the last place I thought we'd be. The name of the popular gay bar, The Palace, is unmistakable. It was less than an hour's walk from the motel, and suddenly, the reason Whittney had chosen that specific one becomes clear. Clearly, it was the cheapest place to stay, closest to the bar.

We could've slept in the car, I guess, but it would have made sex a lot more difficult.

"Uh, should we go in?" The lights from the club reflect off Whittney's face.

He looks stricken with nerves and I don't blame him; mine are practically crashing against the walls of my chest. Both of us know what entering will mean. It will be declaring to the world that we're fags.

Whittney rolls his eyes and grabs my hand. "Come on."

Grudgingly, I let him pull me to the entrance. The bass engulfs us as we walk through the door, urging us to join the guys who are already giving it their all on the dance floor. I look to Whittney, whose small smile suggests he's thinking the same thing.

"What do you want to drink?" He yells over the music. "I brought my fake ID."

"Of course you did," I mumble.

"What was that?" He cups his ear and leans towards me.

"I said I'll take a vodka soda."

The moment he leaves my side, my surroundings sink in. I'm completely surrounded by sweaty, drunk men and my hand itches for my inhaler. One of them bumps into me, almost knocking me off my feet.

"Sorry, Twinkie." The guy winks at me before looping his arm around my waist. "Wanna get outta here?"

His breath smells of heavy liquor and he leans against me to keep his balance. I don't care that he's attractive since he smells like shit, plus, we only just met.

"He's with me." Whittney's voice cuts in, his arm wrapping around my shoulder possessively. Luckily, his demeanor scares the drunk away immediately.

When he leans into kiss me, I push him away and a few drops of my drink spill over his fingers.

"The Hell are you-" I stop myself mid-sentence when a couple disapproving faces glance my way.

My gaze quickly hovers over the crowd, taking in my surroundings. There's a gay couple in the corner making out, another next to the bar, a few others dancing intimately in the middle of the dance floor. It hit me slower than it should have, but I've been so used to hiding, that me pushing him away was just second nature.

Here, I wasn't the odd one out for almost having kissed a guy, I was the odd one out for not letting him.

I expect a deflated expression on Whittney's end when I look to him again, but instead, I'm greeted with a smug grin.

"Fuck." My hand cups the back of his neck and I collide my lips to his. It's an awkward kiss, since he's still holding our drinks in his hands so they don't spill again, but the warm feeling that spreads through every part of me makes me barely notice.

He pushes us toward a railing, our lips never leaving each other's. When his hands come up to tangle in my hair, I realize he must have put down the drinks somewhere. Our kiss deepens when his tongue invades my mouth and my body is dancing in the bliss that is Whittney Rhodes.

My Whittney Rhodes.

The thought is so empowering that I turn us so that I'm pressing Whittney against the wall. When he doesn't fight against me taking the lead, I'm so shocked that I stop a moment, slowly opening my eyes to look at him. He cups my cheek and rests his forehead against mine, panting heavily.

"Harry." My name comes out only as a breath and I barely hear it. His Adam's apple bobs. "I, uh..."

Before I can try getting any more words out of him, he turns me around. His mouth settles in the crook of my neck while his hands trail over my body, one hand grabbing the bulge in my pants. I moan, leaning my head to expose more of my neck to him. Shivers travel through every nerve and my ass instinctively presses to his groin.

"Save that for later tonight," he chuckles.

The rest of the night was filled with dancing, drinks, mdma, and kisses that succeeded in making my knees weak. Everything was perfect. He was perfect.

I should realize by now that good things don't last, but with Whittney's arms around me on our bed in the motel room, my mind closes off any possibility that this good thing wouldn't. 

***

So this chapter was really short, and I apologize for that, but it couldn't have been any longer. The story continues in the next chapter, which, I promise, will be longer. But, although it was short, what did you think about this chapter? As little as it was...

I'll make it up to you guys next time by making the chapter a lot one!

Until next time,

TheWriterD