As the river flows

Chapter 8

“Ah, putain!” Matteo swore out loud, dragging his shirt off his skin, as it stuck to him like an assiduous lover.

“I’m so sorry,” Ankit cried out, his hands fluttering over Matteo’s body, unsure about what to do. Someone up there must really have it out for him. He couldn’t believe what he had just done. He just wanted to disappear. His shame knew no bounds, as he wished for the ground to swallow him up whole. Maybe that would save him from the wrath of the burning grey eyes, as they looked at him with disdain and disbelief.

“Just put the glass back on the bloody counter before you break it too!” bit out Matteo through gritted teeth. Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose. He had been wary the moment he had seen Ankit walk into the pub, and in retrospect, he should have listened to his intuition and made excuses and left. Now with his shirt drenched in alcohol, he regretted everything, and he rarely ever regrets anything. This night had somehow turned from a fun night out with friends to an absolute nightmare. All thanks to the chaotic and loud boy that was still looking at him with large eyes and downturned lips.

Matteo felt the irritation pound into his skull as he looked at the boy. He had never met someone who was so bad at the simple task of existing. It had clearly been a mistake to try to help him. His three hundred dollar Givenchy shirt would bear testament to that. He refused to acknowledge the fact that he had felt drawn to the boy almost instantly, even as he had stood at the door of the pub, looking straight at him, like a deer caught in the headlights.

It was an unpredictable situation that Matteo found himself in. He could’ve never predicted that he would meet the boy from the airport again, and now that he had, met him again that is, he felt entirely discomfited. It was like trying to wear a shirt that was clearly two sizes too small. And perhaps, his reaction to the situation was not entirely warranted, yet, he felt the annoyance fizzle beneath his skin, waiting to be itched. Of course, he mused dryly, the boy himself did not help matters.

He watched as the boy reached out and placed the glass on the counter. His hands were shaking slightly at the edges, like his body could not contain his nerves, flowing out of him in waves, tainting the air around them.

Matteo grit his teeth, and turned to look at the bartender who was by now leaning against the counter with a slightly annoyed expression.

“Desole,” he said, and fishing out his wallet, he handed over the card to her.

“What! No, I can pay!” he heard Ankit pipe up beside him.

“Just do me a favour and shut up, okay?” He said, knowing that he was being rude. But he couldn’t seem to be able to help himself however. Taking back the card from the bartender, he looked back at the boy beside him. He frowned as he caught his eyes.

Ankit breathed in deep, steeling himself to put on a polite smile on his face, even though Matteo Bianchi clearly did not deserve a single ounce of his goodwill. Yet, Ankit knew himself. He would be riddled by guilt if he did not thank Matteo for paying for his drink, and ask for forgiveness for spilling his drink on the man. Therefore, with a shake of his head, he looked back up and gave him the nicest smile that he could manage. Which might not have been nice enough, judging by the look that Matteo was giving him.

“Uh, listen, thanks for paying, but, I could have done that myself. Also sorr-“

“I couldn’t care less about this. I don’t understand how you’re allowed to be here. You should just do us all a favour and go home, alright.” Matteo shot back, shaking the hair off his forehead, and turning to leave.

“What the f**k is your problem, man?” Ankit was finally at the edge of his patience for this man. He had behaved nothing but rudely since the first moment that they had met. What had he done to deserve such venom? This was completely unwarranted, and for once, Ankit was not going to sit back and just take the bullshit thrown at him.

He crossed his hands across his chest, as he watched Matteo turn around.

“What?”

“What the f**k is your problem? Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed, or are you just a rude f*****g bastard?” Ankit questioned, his jaw clenching.

“Are you serious right now?” Matteo raised an eyebrow. It was incredible really, how this boy insisted on being loud and obnoxious, even when Matteo had gone out of his way to be helpful.

“Yeah, I am”

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Matteo said, throwing his head back in frustration. “After everything I’ve done to help you, you have no bloody right to behave like this with me!”

Scoffing Ankit looked away. From the corner of his eyes he could see Damon looking at him with a frown on his face. He could feel the headache now really taking over now. He decided to ignore it. Standing up for himself was more important right now, and looked back at the man in front of him.

“I’m sorry. Did I ask you for help? No! You just think it’s your god given right to butt into other people’s business!” He fumed

“Oh wow! You’re really something you know!” Matteo said, jabbing his finger into his shoulder. “You have no regard for other people-“

“Excuse me!” Ankit swatted at his hands. How dare this man touch him! Who did he think he was? “It’s you that has no regard for other people!”

“Look here-“ Matteo started, but was cut off when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around to come face to face with Damon.

“What’s going on here?” Damon frowned.

Sighing, Ankit pulled at Damon’s arm to bring him to his side. No matter how annoyed he was, he couldn’t let the situation escalate. That would be unacceptable. They were out with friends and if they couldn’t handle a disagreement like mature adults and ruined the night that would be sorely on him.

“Nothing, nothing’s going on,” he said, looking directly at Matteo, daring him to contradict him.

Sneering Matteo, brushed off Damon’s hand. “Yeah, nothing’s going on.”

“Are you sure?” Damon asked Ankit, pulling him in by his shoulder.

Ankit melted under his touch. It was hard to keep a hold on his anger when Damon stood right beside him. “Yeah, I’m sure” he said with a shy smile. He heard Matteo scoff. “Let’s go to the booth, yeah?”

“Okay,” Damon agreed readily, kissing his cheek, and making his way towards the booths at the other end of the room. With one last glance over his shoulder, Ankit followed Damon, leaving Matteo behind at the bar.

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By the time they were stumbling out of the warehouse, and piling into cabs to go back to Damon’s place, Ankit had successfully stashed the altercation with Matteo at the back of his mind. It was easy enough with Damon’s easy affections and Laura’s infectious enthusiasm. They are a mess of limbs and giggles as they fall over each other, getting into the cab. Laura calls shotgun, and Damon pulls Ankit in beside him at the back.

Ankit rests his forehead against the cool glass of the window, sighing in relief as it keeps the headache that has been threatening to overcome him all night, at bay. In that moment, as he watched the city lights rush by and heard Damon singing ‘Sans toi’ by Pomme at the top of his lungs, he felt content. This is exactly what life is supposed to be like. Full of love, laughter and friends. He chuckled as Damon started singing ‘Sans toi’ by Pomme, drunkenly, at the top of his lungs, making Laura grumble under her breath and bat his hands away as he poked at her sides to coax her to join him.

Sighing, Ankit looked out of the window, watching the city blur by. There was a youthful nostalgia in the way the lights blinked out of existence, passing them by in a hurry. It seemed like a fitting metaphor for the youth, forever in a hurry to get from one place to another, in fact a it seemed to fit them perfectly in that moment. The night had been a blur, fueled by adrenaline and lust. The memories curving at the edges, warping into unknown faces and the soundless thrum of music. There had been such an urgency that had seemed to hold them all under its wily charms, loosening their minds and lending courage to their hands, as they dragged across each other, needing to feel the desire unabashedly. Maybe it was a poor substitute for what his heart longed for, but Ankit knew, for just one night, this was okay.  The heady aroma of vitality and want still clung to the seams of his being as he settled further into the warmth of the seat, dozing off to the now quiet hum of Damon’s voice as he rested his head against Ankit’s shoulders.

It was an unknowable amount of time later that Ankit was being awakened by a warm hand on his shoulder. He opened his eyes, blinking rapidly to get the dry itchiness out of it, bringing his arm up to shield his eyes from the bright light that seemed to be intent on stabbing his retina without an ounce of remorse.

“Come on, we have to go now,” mumbled a sleep warmed voice at his ear. He turned to face Damon, ever so kind, ever so patient, looking down at him with his beautiful twinkling eyes, brushing the stray strands of hair from his forehead.

Mumbling something incoherently, Ankit, couldn’t help himself as he pulled Damon into a kiss. It was chaste. Pure in its expression, awkward and lovely. He felt Damon’s lips curl around the edges, making him smile in turn, breaking apart at the pointed throat clearing from the driver.

Ankit shuffled out of the car, barely managing to hold himself up (His knees seemed to have given up on him for the time being), as he got out of the car and walked up to the nearest lamppost to hold onto for support.

He rubbed his eyes, trying to get the gunk out of the corner of his eyes, as Damon helped Laura get out of the cab. She seemed worse for wear, as she drunkenly made her way towards him. Ankit felt a jolt of regret spark through him, as he pulled her in and hugged her close. Maybe he should have stopped her after the fifth shot.

“Apple cheeks…” mumbled Laura against his throat, making him laugh. If she could still spew rubbish in English every time she opened her mouth, she would be fine. He winced as she rubbed her drooling face all over his shoulder, grunting, as she slumped all her weight onto him, even more firmly.

“Do you wanna go up with her?” asked Damon, walking up to him, having paid the driver the fare. He ran his fingers through the sweaty and tangled strands of his hair, looking every bit the young rake that he was, reeling Ankit in like a fish on a tether, unflinching and unapologetic.

“Aren’t you coming with us?” Ankit asked shifting his weight from one foot to the other, leaning against the pole just that little bit more. The pounding in his head was slowly making itself known again. He shook his head slightly to get rid of the fuzzy feeling that had settled heavily on his shoulders, and regretted it immediately as pain flared across his neck and temples, instantly making his nauseous. Sounds seemed to fade in and out for a second and he looked up to see Damon looking at him in concern.

“Are you alright?” Damon reached out to squeeze his shoulder, his palm warm against the freezing cold October night.

Ankit made a non-committal sound as he closed his eyes for a second. He felt Damon’s hands cup the back of his neck, squeezing comfortingly. “I’ll be fine. Just need some water.”

“Are you sure? I was going to wait for the others down here, but, I can always come with you.” Damon offered.

And as tempting as that sounded, Ankit knew that it would be best if Damon waited downstairs. So he grit his teeth and hauled himself up, Laura with him, to stand tall, ignoring the nausea that roiled in his belly.

“No, I’m fine. You wait.” He shot a weak smile at Damon, already dreading the walk up the stairs. Especially lugging the dead weight of an inebriated person with him. Yet, when Damon handed over the keys to him, he simply smiled, and squeezed his fingers in assurance. This was going to be a long night. He could just feel it in his bones.