Before I Ran || Perrentes

Chapter 15: The Trinity

What the hell was Mike Fuentes?

Tony thought about it as they drove into Miami centre with the snapback pulled down over his forehead. He wasn't his boyfriend. But from what Tony had seen and read, didn't kissing change things between two people? Friends didn't just...kiss on a semi-regular basis did they? He didn't think they did.

Or maybe he'd just missed something, and kissing wasn't as big a deal as people made out, and it didn't really change anything at all. Maybe that was true. All Tony had to go on in terms of relationship knowledge was Tumblr and Supernatural. So perhaps he was wrong. Perhaps kissing just meant...nothing at all.

Tony wasn't sure he liked that.

It seemed to be that he couldn't win. He was unhappy when he kissed Mike, and he was unhappy when he didn't. And yet in both situations he was happier than he'd ever experienced, more alive than he'd ever known he could be. Alone, he wasn't anything. He was an empty vessel. And yet somehow when Mike touched his skin the ship sailed, and Tony could feel all his nerve endings firing up, and he could feel all his muscles twitching, and he could feel his blood rushing through his veins and thundering in his ears. He could feel his thoughts coming to life, lifting up, shaking off dust and cobwebs that have been accumulating for nineteen years, falling free and wild throughout his mind.

And Mike was right; he was hurting. He always had been hurting, and he didn't know a life without pain. It was the norm, for him. But God - when he felt that unbearable happiness, the pain lifted momentarily and Tony tasted what it would be like to heal. And when the pain crashed back in he ached for freedom. Not for the freedom he knew Veil Hill would bring him - but for the freedom that came from having Mike fucking Fuentes at his side.

It was a pickle.

The house they stopped outside of in the Miami suburbs was small and old but well-taken care of. Tony, Jaime and Vic did not go in; apparently, the homeowner was not the friendliest of folk. Mike went into the house for two minutes and left with a woman standing at the door, as if making sure they were truly leaving. She was short and pretty with locks of ebony hair and bright red lipstick, but at the same time she seemed to have an aura about her of 'the next person to talk to me is going to wake up in hospital'. So Tony didn't stare. Instead, he watched Mike slip back into the car and pass him a little black box as he shut the door. "Guard that," he said slowly, clearly, "with your life. If we lose that, you may as well wave a big red flag with your name on it and wait for someone to shoot you."

"Fair enough," Tony nodded, and he took the box, careful not to accidentally brush against Mike's fingers, and then leant forward and took the lid off the shoebox, slipping the key-containing box inside. Curious, he looked back at the doorway, at the sour-faced lady standing there. "Well, doesn't she look lovely?"

Mike laughed as he turned the key in the ignition. "Tay Jardine. Deep down she cares, but on the surface she's all ice and prickles. Don't pay her too much heed. Right. Here we go, then. Home stretch. We should be at Veil Hill in three days' time."

Tony's heart should have soared. It didn't. It sank instead.

As the car swept through quiet suburban streets in the general direction of the interstate, Tony picked up the Christina Rossetti poems and turned to Maude Claire. Before the car had even left the city, Tony had gone through four poems; he had to admit, he liked her style. Victorian poets, the few times he'd come across them, tended to be dry; but Rossetti was fresh and experimental. A bit different. A bit unique.

By the time they were accelerating up to sixty Tony had rolled down his window, and with the gathering speed he had to put the book away as the pages started fluttering madly in the breeze. Whilst Vic popped open a can of tinned peaches and shared them around, Tony turned his face to the breeze, almost hoping it would sweep away the feeling of Mike's lips and carry them away forever.