The night was looking up. He hadn’t realized how much fun Dylan was, finding him interesting from the start, but too straightlaced for Rus’ taste. Danger and defiance appealed to Rus.
Dylan swung the door open, sauntering ahead, and encouraging Rus to follow. They stepped outside on a metallic platform connected to a small staircase leading to a hidden alleyway.
What a true slice of heaven. The moon’s light crept through just enough to brighten this secret nook. The alleyway offered a buffer to the harsh wind from earlier. The secluded vibe kept everything silent. Everything except the muffled grunts nearby.
Rus tilted his head as he lit a smoke. His eyes locked with Dylan’s for a moment. A second at most. The fear in his sweet, smiling eyes sent a shiver of terror through Rus.
Dylan tensed, petrified.
Rus kept his gaze shifting, following the strange sound, and found a group of men kicking someone crouched on the ground.
Under the darkness, Rus spotted red shimmering against vibrant green hair. He heard the whiny plea of pain. He felt the twinge of guilt for daring to relax.
Every fiber in Rus’ body twisted into a state of alertness.
Six men stood over Kaiden, kicking him, laughing at him, beating him. Gay bashers. One was the jock who had flirted with Kaiden. A phony, a villain, a monster who dared to harm someone under Rus’ watch.
The booze cleared from his head, and rage consumed him.
By the time Rus clenched his fists, he’d sobered up enough to beat the ever-living fuck out of these monsters.
“Go get help.” Rus shoved Dylan toward the door.
The slam startled his crush, which hurt Rus. He didn’t mean to harm him, but he needed him awake, aware, actionable.
“Now,” Rus demanded.
He didn’t know who Dylan could get. A bunch of drunken clubbers wouldn’t do much good. Maybe Dylan could convince the bartenders to run outside. From his experience, they were often the most alert during drunken brawls. Surely, they’d be ready for bigots.
Once Dylan stumbled inside, Rus rushed down the steps. He didn’t hesitate. He didn’t falter. He readied himself for war. Six men against him. He didn’t expect to win, didn’t expect to stop them entirely. But he had to hope to draw their attention.
All Rus really wanted was to steal their focus. The sounds of pain Kaiden let out were horrifying. Miserable. Brutal. He yelped and cried and wheezed. Rus couldn’t stand it, finding every second a misery he’d never escape.
“Get the fuck off him!” Rus barreled ahead, fists swinging as he lunged at two of the men.
He took them down with him, punching the entire time. When they shouted, he smacked harder, demanding blood as his knuckles cracked against their faces.
“Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you.” Rus wriggled and swung and fought furiously.
The weight of another person twisted him off the two he pinned, so he kicked back. Legs moving in this deranged, methodical nature. Rus didn’t have time to think, to feel.Someone hit him. Hit him hard. Hard enough to sober out the last few drops of booze in his system.
It didn’t matter. He’d take a thousand punches to protect Kaiden. How dare they attack his friend?
Rus launched himself forward, finding a booted heel to greet his face the moment he gathered his bearings. Again and again, someone kicked him. More than someone. Multiple people kicked and punched him, making it impossible for him to claw his way up.
When he managed to get a swing in, he felt a harsh pelt against his arm. When he turned to look, someone bashed him in the head. When he buried himself, he managed to glance at Kaiden, who had been knocked away from the fight and was out of immediate danger.
Bloody and bruised, filled with fear, but alive.
“Run,” Rus gurgled, finding a fist collide with his jaw as he struggled to send that wish.
If he died here, truly died at the hands of these hateful pricks, he didn’t want Kaiden to join him. He didn’t want anyone to feel this agony.
A moment ago, he was trying to have a cigarette, flirt with a guy he liked, and now he found himself surrounded by half a dozen men beating the ever-living shit out of him because of his existence.
He didn’t know for certain why they attacked Kaiden, but he knew the reason the second he spotted them. This was fueled by hate. Their words between brutal strikes made that clear. They hated faggots, they wanted to kill them, to teach them a lesson for breathing, to end their queer plight on humanity.
“Die. Die. Die.” The words raged between the assault.
