A Train Ride Home

Memories Part 1 Chapter 1

I've decided to do two sequels in two different styles. One angst-y more dark and problem riddled, and the other fluffy and cute. This "Part 1" is the angst-y version. I have decided to split "Part 1" (of one of the two sequels to the story A Train Ride Home) into multiple chapters so I can get updates in sooner. Sorry this is so confusing, feel free to ask questions. "Part 2" will be the fluffy cute version.

I don't own the characters, it's just my original writing. Feel free to comment, or check out my other stories which are more Stingue!

Enjoy!!

**also, the italics are a flashback**
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A little dazed, Sting walked out of the compartment and down the hallway towards the exit; he could hear Rogue's footsteps not far behind. What a lovely dream, he mused. No, that wasn't the right word. A memory rather, the first time the two had kissed. The first time he realized how hard he had fallen for the boy.
Sting had kissed plenty of girls. Made out with them, enticed them into his room. Countless parties, countless games of spin the bottle. Memories, made fuzzy from the alcohol. Rogue was always there, his other half, the shadow to his light. He picked the drunk dragonslayer up off the ground, brushed him off, and carried him home. He'd stay with him. Made sure he ate and went to bed, there in the morning to tut, make breakfast, and say the always dreaded "I told you so". The blonde would roll his eyes, holding his aching head in his hands as the dark mage would look on knowingly. And this night was no different. The white dragonslayer was drunk out of his mind, grinning stupidly as he flicked his wrist, sending the empty bottle whirling. He had done this many times. It was always the same. It would land on a pretty girl, her looking hungrily up at him as grabbed her by the shirt and tugged her down, shoving his tongue down her throat. As the object slowed to a stop, he looked up to find a blushing and confused Rogue looking back. Without a moments hesitation, the blond tugged his partner on top of him and into a kiss, running his tongue along the edge of his mouth. Rogue's lips were soft and warm, shy almost. As if it were the first time he had kissed anyone. Knotting his fingers in the other's dark hair, Sting pulled the boy closer. He needed those lips on his, the slim figure pressed against him. As if realizing what he was doing, the white dragonslayer pushed the dark haired one off and stumbled away from the circle. Weaving in between the tables he sat down at the bar and called over the bartender.
"A shot of the strongest you have," he said. Copper liquid was poured into a cup and slid across the bar, he knocked it back in one gulp. He wondered what happened. There was such need, such lust, like nothing he had ever felt. And for Rogue of all people. Sting didn't remember much after that; glimpses of someone helping him home from the guild, Minerva snickering at his drunken state. One thing was for sure, he didn't go back to the game after that.