Rescue Me

"Danny boy! Where'd my main man Jack go? I wanna make out with that beautiful face," Alex grinned, slurring as he threw an arm around Danny's shoulders.

"He told me he was going to get Vinny and Ian, they're always up for a night out," Danny chuckled, patting Alex on the back. "You alright, dude?"

"Fucking wrecked," Alex hollered with laughter, staggering along beside the shorter male.

"Excellent, I'm pissed too, now let's go find a better bar in town for hangs," Danny laughed in agreement, trotting on ahead.

He caught up to the rest of their gang; namely Matt, Grieco, Zack, Rian, Josh, Max, Chris and Daniel. The usual guys'-night-out crowd, minus Jack, of course, who was busy seeking out the remaining Vinny and Ian.

Alex grinned to himself, not really minding that he was lagging behind a little. It gave him time to drunkenly feel thankful for how good his life was -- aged twenty, taking classes at his local college, working part-time as a student music teacher to a class of lovable eight-year-olds, spending time with his wonderful friends, and Jack. He and Jack were a thing, and everyone knew it. It seemed they'd known it before even Jack and Alex had known it. It always seemed to be that way with life-long friends. They weren't quite labeling it as dating yet but... Alex hoped soon. He was okay with it progressing on its own though, and Jack didn't seem in any hurry to rush things either. All in all, Alex's life was pretty much perfect. He couldn't really imagine it getting much better.

Which was lucky because it wasn't going to.

Staggering past an alleyway, considering running to catch up with his friends, he sees something. A girl. There's a girl in the alleyway. She's crying. It takes Alex a moment to register it, but he stops in his tracks to evaluate the noise, the movement distracting him from his walk. It's so dark, too dark to see properly, but he can just about make out the girl's features, and he's so drunk, but he can tell this isn't quite right.

She's being dragged down the alley. Alex can tell. He can tell she doesn't want to go. She's trying to hit this mysterious male behind her, kicking furiously, but she's injured, and her blows are feeble. Her knees are bleeding, and Alex can't see this, can't tell she's been hurt, but she has.

Walking home from a friend's house, passing through an unlit street. Knocked to the ground. A struggle. Legs and hands and arms get scraped up on the gravel, and it hurts to throw punches at her attacker. Dragged to the alley, mouth covered tightly with a hand to shut her up as a group of drunk young men pass. And then a straggler spots them.

Alex is still taking in this scene; it's so thriller movie cliche that he can't quite believe it's happening. He could be the hero of the film and jump into help.

That's when she sees him, and starts to scream.

"Help! Please help! Get him off me! Please, please, I'm only fifteen," she cries, letting out a broken sob as she kicks out behind again uselessly.

Alex panics, drunken mind clouded over with fear, overwhelmed. He stumbles a few steps backwards and runs. When he catches up with the guys, he wipes the terrified expression off his face and forgets about it for the rest of the night. Putting it down to some kind of drunken hallucination, he downs shot after shot, erasing the memory and grinding on Jack in a club when he returns as promised with Vinny and Ian, grinding because he can't see straight, grinding because he can.

Jack blows him in the bathroom and they drink some more with the crew before Alex excitedly tugs Jack back to his house, crashing on the sofa with the younger boy and jacking him off until he comes up his own stomach. Alex cleans him with kisses and they fall asleep tangled together under a blanket, awaking the next morning to milky coffees kindly left out by Alex's mom.

No different to any other night out. That's what Alex liked to think.