Home, Sweet Home [closed]

It'd been one hell of a past couple of months for him. There were few things Liam had found himself wishing for again and again, to be able to have something to vent all his frustrations on, and to be able to visit home again; at least for a small while. When he'd seen this mission pinned up on the board, he'd been the first to snatch it up, no hesitation; hadn't even bothered to take one damned look at the fine print to see exactly what he'd be doing or who would be chaperoning him.

Liam stood at the edge of the sidewalk, rainbow flags pouring from near every window, brilliant colors splashed across the walls, the buildings, the streets; the entire area illuminated by brilliant neon lights, the subtle sounds of club music pouring in from various tightly packed homes and storefronts. There were enough clubs in the area alone to keep a person busy for nights on end.

He'd wanted to be home again, but not with Bubblegum-head, and not in the Castros.

"What'd I do to deserve this?" He grumbled to himself.

A sharp chill went shooting straight up the younger man's spine soon as he felt Jonathan's arm brush up against him. He grit his teeth, his face turning merely as red as his hair and stiffening like a board, fighting the urge to shove him off or storm away. He caught the eye of a passer-by, with neon green hair and the tightest pants he'd ever seen, looking sympathetic - no, curious, disappointed maybe that the two of them were so close. It left him with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. "How could I forget?" Liam muttered under his breath, close to spitting fire.

The student narrowed his eyes, snatching the beer quickly out of his grasp and forcing it up to his lips. One gulp. Two. Three. Fuck it, he drowned half the bottle there on the spot. They'd already gone far off protocol and he would need more than that if he were going to survive through the night. "Where too?" He had all the maps and files or whatever leads they had or needed.

Three clubs alone were directly in front of their eyesight. It was a matter of waiting for his mate to pick their poison. Far as he was concerned, he was content lingering on that damned sidewalk all night long.

Blood in a can. As he turned the cold cylinder over in his grasp, Liam realized he couldn't decide exactly what kind of idea that was to begin with: incredibly genius or utterly idiotic. Who the fuck just kept a thing of blood just waiting around in their - ... Hell, nevermind. He'd already learned long ago there was no point in mulling any questions over anything that happened anymore. The young man gave it a good shake, caught straight off his guard as the Bubblegum-head brushed his hands through his hair. His heart leapt straight into his throat, cutting off any biting torts that pined to escape him.

He froze, one moment blinded by the warm neon lights and the next ... He didn't even know. The Summer's eyes were left wide-open but he felt blinded all the same, only able to make out the sting in his lip and the sharp metallic stench waving off the other boy, mingled in with the sweetness of his cologne. Bitter-sweet. Liam felt the world spinning beneath him as Jon pulled away, his hand brushing up to his lip and wiping away a small stain of red. Maybe he wouldn't need the damned can after all.

A stray flame licked away across his cheek, highlighting the warmth across his skin. "Y-You..." He wasn't sure how long he stood there, wavering in his place, before he'd finally had the stomach to down the rest of his drink; guzzling it down and shoving it against the Aussie's chest. Liam kept his gaze low to the ground. "Try and and stop me." He muttered, shoving past and pushing towards the entrance.