The Treehouse [BxB]

twenty three

Back at River's apartment, Mickey was introduced to River's roommate, Marcello, who didn't speak a word of English, and was too busy cooking dinner for his girlfriend to pay them much attention anyway. They ordered a pizza, and ate it in River's room, sitting by the window; the streets twinkled below, and the lake shone under the moonlight in the distance. The view was beautiful, and Mickey thought back to his university dorm room; he could see the whole city from there, but it was nothing compared to this.

"You promise that you'll come back to England at the end of November?" Mickey asked River cautiously, finishing the last slice of pizza, and leaning back against the wall.

"I promise."

"And you'll give me your new number, so I can call you?"

"Yes." River smiled softly.

"And you'll come and visit me at uni after the Christmas holidays?"

"Of course."

"Okay." Mickey stood up, stretching his arms above his head, "Can you show me around town tomorrow? I've never been to Italy before."

River nodded, "I'll call in sick to work."

"Thanks." Mickey distractedly started to undress, pulling off his shirt, "Can I use your shower?" He asked, unzipping his backpack and pulling out a fresh set of clothes.

River's eyes widened, "Is that a tattoo?" He grabbed Mickey's arm and pulled it towards him to inspect it.

"Yeah." Mickey admitted bashfully, "You like it? I got it on your birthday."

River bit his lower lip, running his fingertips across the ink. It was a simple black outline of a treehouse. Their treehouse. "I love it." He hugged Mickey, savouring the feeling of his warm exposed skin. "I really love it."

"I'm glad." Mickey grinned, "So, uh...shower?"

"Oh." River remembered, "Yeah, it's down the hall, to the right. Towels are in the cupboard."

"Thanks." And because Mickey couldn't resist, he ruffled River's hair before leaving.

River collapsed onto the mattress on the floor, rubbing his face with his hands. Seeing Mickey again was like a breath of fresh air. It was like being home again. Because Mickey was his home.

He thought about all the things he had missed. Mickey finishing school, taking his exams, moving to university, making new friends and new memories. Discovering his sexuality, hooking up with a boy for the first time, making his way in a world without River. He had accomplished so much, and although River was sad that he wasn't there to see him through it, he was so proud of him.

But Mickey had missed out on a lot too - and that was entirely River's fault. He had run away, and as a result, Mickey wasn't there to stop him from making stupid decisions. River had spent his time in Paris taking drugs, getting kicked out of French nightclubs, getting drunk off of red wine in local parks. And when he left for the South of France with a group of students he had met in Paris, he only continued his downward spiral of bad choices. He spent most days getting high at the beach, and when he returned to the villa each evening, he would drink until he was sick.

In Barcelona, he finally got his act together. He had burnt through all of his parents money, and got himself a job at a cafe. It was full of tourists, and so, he didn't even need to learn Spanish. He stopped drinking, stopped taking drugs, rented out a room in an apartment, and decided to start taking life seriously if he wanted to live to twenty five. But he got bored - and when he got bored, he ran. That's how he ended up in Milan, working in a nightclub, and wondering if he would ever find his way back home.