I am a sheep. I'm so okay with this.
He burned on nothing but air for hours before they left. Softer now, boots kicking air when Brian pushes the loft door open before the sun's touched the horizon outside.
A ball of golden, boneless boy slung over one shoulder, giggling into his back, fingers worked into the waist of his jeans. Scratching every so often, just to make him shiver. Liquid when spilled onto the couch in a tangle of silver mesh and leather, smiling at the ceiling with glassy eyes.
Brian's hands comes away slicked with silver glitter, the smells of alcohol and sweat, teenage boy and a long night on the floor.
"Playtime's over," Brian tells him, and Justin closes his eyes on a smile. Tiny pink tongue slicking parted lips.
He watched Justin for hours tonight. Incandescent in motion, wrapped in light and sound and feeling, and Brian remembers how he tasted, metal and vodka sharp. They don't ID him anymore, if they ever did.
"What did you take?"
Justin closes his eyes. "Sing the song."
It's stupid. "A, B, C, D..."
"E. E. E." He's laughing, feet kicking into the air like Gus. "I'm so high."
Bent back against the bathroom wall, legs wrapped around his hips, he licked the hit out of Brian's mouth, eyes closed like this.
Now, sweetie, make this thing MOVE, kay?