killingsoftly | Heading out...

Heading out...

It was Saturday. He'd spent all day Friday packing, just to be ready. Of course, he'd been ready Wednesday night, but for Warren and Alma's sake, he'd curbed his impatience. But the principal's accusations still rang in his ears. The idea that he'd done something to Warren hurt, not entirely because he'd been unable to, even to prove a point. But he wouldn't ever have put them into this situation, even if he could and the fact that she thought he was strong enough to still hadn't registered under the hurt that she thought he could. That he would. It was likely that even if the thought did register, he'd dismiss it as putting on a good show. All show, no substance.

But they were going on tour and so, really, that didn't matter. He could play the game well enough, and had enough natural musical talent, that tour would give him what he needed. What he loved and craved and maybe the hurts would be soothed and insecurities at what he couldn't do be eased. He hoped so, at least. It...felt broken somehow that he didn't know how to fix. Didn't know how to fix himself and...

He pushed the thought away as he started carrying things downstairs to the van. If he got his in and done, they'd have less to do together with Warren's.

He bounced at that thought. They were going on tour. Just him and Warren and the people who thought they were wonderful. The show and the music and the lights and the make up. The groupies and the fans and the energy. And then just the road, and them. Hotel rooms and wide open spaces and something new to see every day. Something new to show Warren, to experience with him for the first time.

He was ready.

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"I got clothes and a kit together..." Warren said, grateful. "Don't know what else I need..."

Devin shrugged a little. "Not much. Any books, or entertainment stuff you want to haul along, but..."

"I think we can make our own entertainment..."

Devin smirked. "Yeah, I guess we can at that."

Warren smiled. Then grabbed his backpack and looked around, picking up the occasional book and tossing it in.

Including Dorian Gray.

Devin eyed it with a rueful smile, then snagged one of his suitcases.

"Want me to carry this down?"

"Sure. I'll get the other one, they're both packed..."

Devin nodded. "Okay..." He headed down, trying to not bounce too much.

Warren grinned, wolf-whistling as he went behind him.

Devin wriggled for him a bit, smiling over his shoulder as he opened the door.

Warren waited until they had the suitcases in the van to grab his ass and shove him up against the van, hips into hips.

Devin hissed a little, in surprised pleasure, his fingers finding Warren's hips.

His hands and hips were fierce, his mouth gentle as he kissed him, making it last and linger, teasing his tongue between his lips.

Devin moaned, just a little, arching his hips into Warren's.

He stroked his fingers over Warren's hips, sliding them back to cup his ass.

Warren gasped, breathless, rocking back against Devin and nipping at his lower lip.

His fingers kneaded over Devin's ass, up the small of his back, up to press against the back of the van just to hold them both in place.

Devin moaned again, soft and low, a happy and yet wanting sound, holding tighter to Warren and forgetting they were right in front of his building.

Warren hadn't forgotten. Not yet, but he kissed him a little while longer and rocked against him for a second before stepping back with a smirk.

Devin was feeling very thoroughly kissed and molested and gave him a slightly dazed, very happy, smile for the suddenness of it.

Warren smiled back, happy to be with him, happy to put that smile on his face.

"Let's finish packing, say good-bye to Mom, and get out of here."

Devin beamed back at him. "Okay."

Warren slipped his hand into Devin's as they went back upstairs.

Devin followed him with a small smile, fingers wrapping around his and a bounce in his step.

The small bag of sundries could get dumped anywhere. The backpack would probably go up front in front of his knees. It was only half full; almost everything he could want was on his iPod, and he'd gotten a bunch of the essential stuff off his computer onto a flash drive, in case he ever picked up a cheap laptop somewhere. He wasn't much of a computer type, anyway.

They were really doing it. Really packing up and leaving. And he was procrastinating, dragging his feet. He shouldn't be doing that. Not for Devin's sake, not for his own. Clean break. It wasn't like he couldn't come back.

He looked over at Devin. It wasn't like he wasn't making a new home wherever he went.

Devin watched him, letting him take the time he needed to take. He leaned against the door, still watching.

Warren took a breath. It was a choice. Stay here, be quiet, live quiet. Take care of Mom, but stay here, and stagnate. And be nothing. Wander, confused and unhappy.

He had been happiest when he'd been with Devin, in New York. Doing something useful. Something interesting. Out, in the lights, in the clubs. With Devin. It wouldn't have been half as fun alone.

And that, he put in the front of his mind. That was what they were going for. Getting out of this town, to grow, to learn. To grow into who he wanted to be. Yeah.

He looked over at Devin, grinned. "Anything you want from the fridge or the cabinets?"

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