Kidnapped By A Hitman [BoyxBoy] ✓

MATT S. [1]

My throat burned a nasty acidic sensation that slid down to my stomach. Music loudly echoed in my ears, laughter and words were barely recognizable to me at this point. My head was buzzing, spinning around from lack of concentration; my fingers curled on a small cup, blinked once, twice, and then again. Snickers and snorts came from either side of me, "D-Dude! L-Look at him...he looks so~o wasted." Brian laughed to himself.

I frowned blinking again as if it would clear the blurriness in my apparition, it didn't. I raised my hand over to my head—grunting, "Yo...Matt...you o~okay, bro?" I felt Chrisander's hand on the nape of my neck before it simply slipped to my shoulder and gave it a pat. We weren't drunk, I mean Brian and Chrisander aren't—I was never good at handling alcohol.

I rubbed my forehead, pushed the glass wrapped around my fingers away from my hand. I felt sick and stayed as still as possible to keep myself from falling over, "No...feel sick." I held back a hiccup, closed my eyes to stop the room from spinning. "Bri~an stop drinking already. Let's get Matty boy out of here, yo! You even listening asshole?"

Chrisander leaned his weight on my shoulder trying to get closer to Brian so he could hear him over the music. It didn't help me at all, my hand covering my mouth and closed my eyes. God, I want to puke. Chrisander moving me wasn't making it any better. "Ye~ah I heard, I heard. Let me finish this...and then we'll go." Brian said in a dismissive tone making Chrisander grunt in annoyance and finally moved his hand away.

"You think you can....hold on for a bit, bro?"

"Ye-Yeah, I think so." I nodded my head cringing my nose from the strong smell of alcohol in my mouth. No matter how I hated it when it stayed on me, made me feel sick, or wake up with a raging migraine I couldn't seem to learn my lesson. The damn bastard patted my shoulder again, a small gargle slipped from my lips.

"Ok~ay, let's go." Brian who sat on my left stood up from the bar stool and lifted my arm placing it on his shoulders. I moved my hand away from my mouth opening my eyes again. Chrisander did the same as Brian, helped me up from my seat. "And up we go. You suck at drinking, dude." He shook his head with a lopsided smile.

I tried not to roll my eyes, all the moving was made me dizzy as hell, tripped over my feet a few times. "I know, don't want to hear that coming from you."

"Our parents are going to be pi~ssed." Brian laughed again like it was so funny to get nagged at for hours for being drunk. We may be eighteen, but our parents hated it when we drank; it's only for the fun. "Ugh. I'm going to throw up." I declared, hunched over slightly pushing through the sweaty bodies that clung to each other however possible.

The music was still blared, people shouted, danced, sweated around with lustful looks as they searched for someone into their beds. Could've sworn I saw some people making out somewhere but everything was so blurry—my head buzzed. "N~o! Don't!" Chrisander exclaimed dramatically, slurred at his words just a bit meaning he was tipsy.

"We're almost out." Brian pulled me closer to what I assume to be the exit of the club, I had to close my eyes when some of the neon lights flashed over my face. This is the last time I'm drinking. I told myself that every time but, in the end, I got dragged into it. Before I knew it, I felt cool air hit my face, breathing in helped settle the sickly sensation that was building up inside me.

I was dragged for a few more moments then heard one of them whistle out probably for a cab. "You think there's going to be a cab out here so late?" Chrisander helped me straighten when Brian broke away and walked towards the road making hand gestures to whatever cab came through here. "There has to be. Those fuckers are out here for money, right? They wouldn't miss this chance to get it."