"Do you really want to do this?" No one ever questioned Hunters actions. Hunter had spent the last thirteen years being spontaneous, daring, and a little stupid at times, so hearing his closest friend, Dillon, ask about his motives made him chuckle darkly. But Dillon always had been a goody-two-shoes. Hed been born into a considerably wealthy family, at least with enough money that Hunter had sniffed it out the moment his cologne had whiffed past his nose. His parents were two gay men, one of them an actor in small movies and theatre productions, and the other a maintenance worker at his retired father-in-laws old car shop. He had two sisters, one of them his twelve year old sister who often tried to tag along on her brothers romps with his friends, but was quickly disciplined, because no young girl needed to see where the group of them went.

His other was an older girl, nearly eighteen years old, and Hunters girlfriend, who went by the name of Beth. Shed been from one of her dads previous relationships, with a girl named Quinn, who Hunter had only met once, when she came staggering in late at night when he had crashed at Beths house, only to wave shortly and then topple onto her drunken ass. He meant no insult to Beth, but couldnt help but snigger at her moms rambling about how swollen her mouth was from the big cocks shed sucked on, silently comparing himself to the whore that she obviously was, because he knew that he would end up like her one day, middle aged and miserable. Beth had struck him across the face before she rose to help her mom up to bed, clearly not understanding what exactly he was laughing about. It was almost humorous, how sympathetic he was with Beths mom, who was no more than a slut.

Hed met Beth two years ago, at a party for a spoiled, graduating senior who was only given the finest of alcohols that sent all of the kids drinking straight onto their asses. Bored of shaking his hips at the same girls who seemed to rotate around him, one at a time telling him that he could touch their chests if he promised to be good to them, hed headed outside to take a drag on a cigarette, in need of clouding the fresh air he might have gotten with the buzzing, burning flakes the cig let off. This was where he had bumped into Beth, who had also been taking hits in between large gulps from shot glasses, and it had been love at first sight. By the end of the night, shed dragged him by his collar into the back seat of her car, where he hadnt learned her last name, but instead learned how tangy her tongue tasted. The only ironic thing was that Hunter couldnt see a damned thing. As he thought of his girlfriend, who he appreciated for her giving him a bed to sleep in when Karofsky became intolerable, but resented for the fact that she wouldnt hesitate to let him take a bullet for himself, since he couldnt even see it to have a chance to dodge it, he kicked the stand of his motorcycle down, letting it lean against the rough material of his jeans. It probably wasnt right for him to drive this thing. It had taken a lot of practice, but Hunter was good at memorizing things, and hed eventually figured out how not only to drive it, but also what roads to go down to get to the places he needed to be. He could only hope that nothing would dart out in front of him, but hope had ran out on him a long time ago. People said that Hunters problem was that he feared nothing, but death was only a hiccup in the long term plan he had for himself. Hed learned the hard way that everything died eventually, but love died quickest of them all, so why avoid the inevitable, if love couldnt even be lived for? It might even be a respite from the shitty life that he was going through now.

Throwing his leg over the seat of the bike, Hunter sat down hard, resting one foot on the gas pedal. He clutched the phone tighter to the side of his face, crushing it so close to his hard cheekbone that he heard the cheap plastic cracking. "Of course Im sure, Dillon. Have I ever not been sure of anything? Why are you doubting me?"

"Because every time youre sure of something, I can usually be sure that Ill get grounded afterward." Dillons voice cracked halfway through his sentence, making Hunter smirk with amusement. "Listen, Hunter... there is something seriously wrong with your head. One of these days youre going to kill me. How can you just... not care?"

Hunters cruel smile widened, "Its called not giving a shit. You should try it some time. It makes life so much easier." Keeping his voice cool, Hunter said to his worrier of a friend, "Dillon, no one ever said you had to do this. You can go home now."

"Im not going to do anything!" Dillon yelped at him, his voice lowering when he heard Hunters rough snicker. "Hunter, your girlfriend is already knocked out... She keeps groaning at me about how much her life sucks. I dont know what to do with her... and she clearly doesnt know what to do with herself. Youre probably going to be the same way, so someone is going to have to look out for you. Whats so important about taking a stupid drug, anyway? You have your cigarettes and your liquor. Why do you need this?"

Hunters face became serious, and his tone flattened, "Dont you ever judge me, Dillon. Cigs and beer dont give me hallucinations about things that arent there... and the best things in my life are things that arent here anymore. You get everything you want... one snap of your fingers and your daddies will bring it to you on a platter... Is it so wrong of me to want things that I used to have but were fucking taken from me?" Suddenly feeling bitter, Hunter took his anger out on an unseen object, as Karofsky often did. They were so alike that it nearly made Hunter shudder with rage at himself. Hed let it come to this. "And tell my girlfriend to get off her damned high horse. I have a shitty life, too, but Ive never cried about it. I wont put up with her feeling sorry for herself."

"Hunter." Dillon murmured, his voice so boyish because he hadnt ruined it with the gruffness that came from puffing smoke into his lungs or chugging on sour beer. "Im not judging you. I never have. I just... I want what I think is best for you, and I know that its not this. If you get in trouble, you could end up in prison... or dead. Dont you want more? Were starting our junior year of high school in a few days... Cant you clean yourself up just enough to get through the rest of school? Then we can graduate... and you can move on with your life. You can do whatever you want-"

"Says the boy with a guaranteed future in tacky movie musicals. Your daddies wouldnt give you anything less than your favorite role in Grease." Hunter retaliated, his voice sharp.

"Youre making mockery of me." Dillon said instantly, making Hunter quirk one brow. "Hunter, I will never be able to figure out if you actually like me or not. Youre such a mean-hearted cynic."

Hunter idly reached down to insert the key into the hole, revving the engine of his bike, which vibrated to life beneath his shaking body. "Dont flatter yourself on thinking you have me figured out, Dillon. You probably dont." Smiling against the phone, Hunter pressed his finger to one of the buttons that would end the call. "You left out that my greatest talent is in holding grudges. Ill be there soon. Pull your panties up before I get there." Clicking the call off, he stuffed his phone into his pocket, which was nearly stitched onto his thigh. Hunter had figured that the tighter the pants that he wore, the less hem that he had to trip over. Gripping both of the handles, Hunter tested out the gas pedal, letting his bike drift to the edge of the driveway, where he cocked his head in both directions to listen for the crunching gravel underneath rolling tires. As usual, no one was driving down this road. Only a crazy person would want to live in this dump.

Nothing made him feel freer than those few moments when he first pushed onto the open road, nothing ahead of him and nothing behind him except places hed never explored before, but had always wanted to. Thirteen years of being cooped up in a cellar did strange things to his head. Despite the fact that he only turned down a few blocks, either right or left depending on if he was getting to his high school or the alleys that his friends hung out in, he always felt slightly freer from Karofsky with every inch that he drove away. One day, he would never go back to that house. One day, that damned house would only be a picture in his rearview mirror. The front wheel of his motorcycle rocked over the same speed bump that it always did as he maneuvered his bike down the narrow pathways between the buildings. He lived in the rundown side of Lima, so it never took him very long to find the alleyways.

As he expected, he was able to orient himself to his surroundings by the smell of cigarette smoke that caked the air so thickly that it hung like smog around his face. Glancing away from where he heard his girlfriend screeching about some man who was groping at her chest when his best friend climbed down from something that clanged, Hunter raised his brows at the dark silhouette moving around in his vision, his best friends hands grabbing his shoulders. "Hunter!" He shouted, flinging his arms around his thin shoulders. Hunter stood over a foot taller than Dillon, making him stretch on his toes in order to reach the nape of Hunters neck and wrap his thick fingers around it. "Hunter, please... shes really starting to freak me out. I dont want to see you like that."

Hunter glowered at his best friends face, shrugging him off, "Shove off, Dillon. Leave if you dont want to see me blabbering about how wet water is or some shit like that." Stepping his way over to his moaning girlfriend, Hunter bumped into her legs, instantly withdrawing, and then seating himself beside of her kicking feet, which were stretched across the hood of her rumbling car. He picked up the plastic, wrinkled bag that was full of the hallucinogens, shaking them around before he unsealed the top. A strong odor of bitter acid hit his nose, making him jerk his face away. The lengths he would travel to get away from reality, he thought, silently cursing himself.

But before he could tip the bag up to his face and finish off what Beth hadnt already devoured, a pair of large hands grabbed his, keeping his fists closed around the bag, sealing it off. "Hunter, dont! You really dont want to do this! You have no idea what these things can do to your head. Its not good! Ill never forgive myself if I let you go this far. It already kills me that you smoke and drink. Put me above these stupid things you put into your body! Ive been your best friend for years, Hunter... Arent I the most important thing to you?"

Hunter closed his eyes, feeling his grip loosen on the bag as Dillon pried his fingers up. "Dillon... sometimes I wish I didnt love you so damned much." He had to force himself to admit that Dillon was one of his few weaknesses in this world, and had been since the second theyd met in their junior years of school, when Hunter was only fourteen years old, and Dillon was eleven. Dillon had been so awkward around others that most had turned their backs on him, simply because his voice was still high pitched long after the other boys had gone through puberty, and he blurted jokes at the wrong times. So, hed come to Hunter, the last person in the school who he had left to pester, and Hunter had looked at him condescendingly, thinking the boy dumb for approaching someone who had been deemed spoiled goods by the rest of the school. But Dillon had never judged him, and hed said it was because the rest of his family was so odd. He never explained why his family was different, but Hunter had never asked him to. And Hunter was a person who could respect another for holding his tongue.

A year ago, Dillon had even become something romantic to Hunter, who had no qualms about gender when he couldnt even see what he was touching. One night, at a party that hed spent most of with Dillon, Hunter had felt his friend push up against him, and hed looked down at his dark head, imagining what facial features he might have from what he had told him. It had happened very quickly, when Hunter had enveloped his arms around his friend and pulled him into a closet, pressing a kiss to his full lips before he even kicked the door shut behind them. Dillon had immediately responded with a nudge, but the two of them had separated seconds into the kiss, holding their mouths and staring through the darkness with huge eyes. It had never been brought up again, and Hunter decided that his best friend was one person he had the decency to not try to pursue.

If there was one person who could keep Hunter from doing something idiotic, it was Dillon. Dillon gently fingered the light hairs at Hunters nape, "Hey... its okay, Hunter. Put the bag down. We can go back to my place... you can sleep there tonight. My dads wont mind." He heard him nervously chuckle, "Will there ever be a day that you settle down? I dont know if I can take much more of this." Unable to answer that question honestly, Hunter held his silence, swallowing thickly when a few fingertips traced the outline of his strong cheekbone, which jutted out underneath his sunken eyes. He heard himself inhale sharply, trying to draw away, but Dillon firmly grabbed his face and turned it to the side. Nothing undid him more quickly than touch, others letting him use his hands to figure them out, by mussing their hair and sliding his fingertips over their shapely eyebrows, down their quivering eyelids, and against each beating eyelash. His favorite thing about touching anothers eyes was feeling that there was no difference between those of a person who could see and his own. Few people let him get that close to them, but Dillon was one of the ones who did. "Hunter... why do you not look at my face? Let me take off your glasses-"

When Dillons fingers pinched the rims of his sunglasses, Hunter moved so quickly that all Dillon had time to do was lower his hands to his chest, pushing distance between them so Hunter couldnt ram him into a wall and crush him with his powerful body. He clasped both of Dillons wrists in one large hand, raising them above their heads, as he shoved one thigh between Dillons weak legs, making the boy completely helpless in Hunters unpredictable grasp. He felt Dillon shake against him. After years of being pinned down by Karofsky, there was nothing he wanted more than to take control, but he almost felt bad for taking away all of Dillons ability to manipulate his limbs. Dillon was a young, unworldly boy who had fallen for Hunters knowingness of practically anything that a case could be made about, simply because he himself wanted to experience these things, but he also wasnt quite reckless enough to abandon himself to a man who lived with abandon. Hunter wanted to see the world through a new set of eyes, but he wanted his traveling companion to not be afraid of opening them. "Dillon, what color is my hair?"

Dillon was stunned into silence by the abrupt question, and then he muttered through a few sounds that somehow came out coherently, "I-Its blond... Hunter, its blond. What are you asking? Why do you say such strange things?"

"For the same reason that you say that I should take off my glasses." Hunter snapped at him, finally releasing him. Dillon immediately stumbled backwards, removing himself entirely from Hunter. "Sometimes the best things seen are the things you dont see, Dillon." Pushing past his friend, he headed over to where Beth was still sprawled across the hood of her car. He bent down to grab her around her thighs, flinging her limp body over his shoulder. Despite her slender form, Beth was above average height for a girl, but she was still an easy weight for him to haul around. "Stop questioning me. Its annoying. If I dont tell you something, its probably because its best that you dont know."

Hunter heard Dillons wide feet clunking after him when his friend realized that Hunter was going to leave the alleyways without him. "What are you so afraid of, Hunter? Why dont you want me to know things?"

He paused, backtracking only for a second to glimpse over his shoulder, one brow arched, "My worst fear is the color blue."

He could almost see the way that Dillons jaw dropped, "Can I ask why?"

"You can." Hunter heaved Beth higher up on his shoulder, his hand grasping her narrow waist, "If youre asking me if I want you to, my answer to that is no. Im not going to give you permission to ask questions, because then Id be permitting you to bother me all the more. The words I say are like paintings in a museum... You take what you get, and you dont ask questions, because the person who could answer them has probably already died of boredom of the questions previously asked of him." At the silence that followed his snarky retort, he sent his friend a cunning smirk, "Its not just any blue. Its the blue of an ocean... in the middle of the night... that foamy water that bubbles at the edge of the sand. Thats the blue that I hate more than anything."

Dillon took a deep breath, "You know what I hate? When you know something I dont know. For a guy who flunked the eighth grade, youre really witty. You can explain away your entire past, but youre clueless about the future. You couldnt care less about what happens to you... because you spend all of your time caring about what happened to you. Something I cant know about?" When Hunter nodded, he carelessly raised and dropped his hands, his palms hitting his thighs with a thud. "I kind of figured. You know, you never walk in a straight line."

"Youre remarkably observant today."

Chuckling, Dillon threw his arm out and snagged Hunter around his lower back, "And youre a remarkable ass... as usual. Come on, Hunter... Im your best friend. Isnt it a requirement that, in order to reach that level, we know everything about each other? Can I at least guess at what goes on in your head?"

"You can." Hunter repeated, making Dillon snigger. "Twenty seven." At the strange face that he knew his best friend was giving him, he wrapped an arm around his shoulders, "Thats how many times youve laughed today... at least, around me. Ive been keeping count."

Dillon leaned closer to Hunter, dropping his head to his open shoulder, "What, are you doubting how happy I am to be around you? I didnt know Hunter... the most confident man I have ever met... could doubt."

Hunter softened his voice, burying his face in Dillons dark hair, which was cut close to his head, "Its not so much that Im doubting us being together... Its more that I love that you love me." Smoothing a chunk of hair away from Dillons cheek, he whispered in his ear, "I think about your laugh a lot, Dillon. Its the thing that makes me happiest... the thing that helps me fall asleep at night, when Im all alone and the only voice I hear is the one thats telling me about blue. Youre here... which is more than I can say of blue."

Dillons head snapped up from his shoulder, "Hunter, are you colorblind?"

Hunter smiled sadly at his friend, "Kind of."