a rose by any other name

uneven steps carry the too skinny boy into the shop. a bell signals his entrances, a tinny ringing that grates on his eardrums. thick the incense smoke that pushes down his throat. on it he chokes, coughs pitifully. a hand raised attempts in vain to fan the fume from his face.

“my leg hurts,” he states. “give me.”

outstretched hands grope air. eztli knows what he wants, but he’s known for playing games, and riley’s not in the mood for them.

eztli

a scowl twists his mouth down, scrunches up his face. fists fall to clench the fabric of his frayed sweatshirt. citrine eyes simmer, molten with undisguised revulsion. that toothy smile is almost enough to make him turn back the way he came. promises of relief from the ache in his leg keeps him where he stands.

“i don’t want to get in your creepy backroom. just give me what i came for and i’ll be one my way.” teeth gnash, suppressing him from screaming at the silver-tongued viper. “you know what i want so hand it over.”

eztli

only the cloth gripped in his palms restrains his balled up fists. distance keeps him from any other acts of violence.

“shut up pedophile.” the boy snarls. “you’re just making excuses. do you get some sick thrill out of luring boys to your creepy backroom? creep.”

so close he is to leaving, yet he only glances into the street and back to the strigoi.

“just hand it over. no one is coming.”

eztli

resistant though he is, the need is stronger. it keeps him coming back. and he's slowly inching further into the shop despite his better judgment.

"you better not try anything," grumbles the boy with blaring displeasure.

two steps from the lavish back room his progression ceases. a narrowing of the eyes, twisting of the mouth, a precursor of his outburst. one swift kick with his plastic leg aims so precisely at the man.

"fix? i'm not an addict, you fucking pedophile. i'm in pain." teeth bared, forehead wrinkled, he snarls. "stupid."

eztli

satisfaction snakes onto his face with a gleam in the eyes and widening smirk. fleeting that moment is, how easily it slips away. eztli's grip is sharp, and he has no mercy for the boy. he digs those fingers into his neck. not even an ounce of compassion rears itself when he shoves him into the room and down.

"don't touch me!" he shrieks. "where do you get off assaulting a minor?"

kicking and screaming he goes into that back room. under him the cushions are soft and comfortable yet fail to lessen the sting to his ego. he sits glowering, eyes fixed and smoldering.

"make it up to you? should i kiss it better?"

eztli

he eyes lustily the little pellets bagged and occupying briefly the man’s hand. so quickly they are shoved back into the basket. he scarce had a moment to make an attempt for it. ‘’

teeth clench in frustration. always a game to be played by this man. he holds over his head those needed pellets, while pulling strings riley would love to see cut forever from his grasp. sickening the smile that curves eztli’s mouth. his stinking breath brushes his skin. so close he leans that each eyelash on his heavy lids is distinct.

with a saccharine smile his own, he leans back. “close your eyes.”

eztli

unfaltering the smile he wears with feigned saccharinity, a faultless angel. surreptitious, his stomach twists with unremitting hatred. his derisive tone, the fingers clamp against his jawbone, enough to make him shake with rage, suppressed through sheer will.

“not at all.” the syrupy voice leaves his mouth feeling sticky and foul. “it’s just embarrassing to kiss you if your looking. it’s my first kiss.”

wide the eyes fixed on eztli, gleaming. easily he can play a role of innocence in times of need, though well aware he is that this man is no fool to his charade. he lets his eyelids drop ever so slightly, half-mast, leaning in until their lips are close enough to be touching. rather than touching lips, he draws them back and clamps down with teeth.

eztli