NIGHT MOVES { mitchandjude

[jude daniel carrigan]

Oh who put all those cares inside your head
You can't live your life on your deathbed.

The back of the old yellow cab was musty and made Jude's nose itch. But the rain outside made up for the minor inconvenience. The driver had the radio dialed to some country radio station that was starting to grate on his nerves. New country songs sucked, but Eric always listened to the good older stuff. Like Patsy Cline and Conway Twitty. He always played the old vinyl records wearing that stupid old straw cowboy hat. The thought always made the corners of his mouth curl up into a smile, but he stopped himself. He told himself that he wasn't supposed to think about things like that anymore. That was why he had sold the records and gotten rid of that stupid hat. He let out a long sigh of relief when the Cabby turned the radio to a Red Sox game. He had no trouble dialing out sports.

After he had instructed the yellow checkered cab's driver to turn left, he got out, paid and quickly made his way down to the sand. He always loved going to the beach when it was just lightly raining and was glad to see he was alone, for the fourth night in the row. He always got strange looks when he said he preferred the beach close to dark with rain. But the water was warmer and there was a greater chance that he would be alone. He dropped down onto the sand. He turned his head back over his shoulder and the cab was gone. He let out another long sigh and flopped into his back.

Jude let his eyes slip close, the soft and faraway sound of waves crashes to shore was the perfect white nose. It would be dark in about an hour. Well, as dark as the city could get. The light pollution and lack of stars always made him feel homesick and lonely. He grabbed lazy handfuls of sand, letting them slip through his fingers and then grabbing more. Everything about the beach made him think of Eric. On a sunny day, he thought of the older man's freckles and how if he laid still for long enough, the wind would mold the sand to his body, like he was being held again. Just the relaxed atmosphere of the shore made him think of his lover. So why was he always coming ? Maybe he was more of masochistic then he originally though.

His clothes where almost soaked clear to his skin, but he wasn't cold. He was looking forward to walking back to his bed with sand in his shoes. It was nice to bring something home with you that would stay for just one night. He blinked his eyes open, rain drops getting caught in his eyelashes. The sun was starting to sink below the water and he would stay at least until around midnight and try to get back some memories and make the real again. It probably wasn't the healthiest thing he could do, but it made it little easier to get up in the morning know that the beach would be quite and would be waiting for him.

[mitchell leigh michaels]

Fire it up, fire it up
When we finally turn it over
Make a B-line towards the border
Have a drink, you've had enough

The beach. No matter the season or hour, Mitch always returned to the surf and sand. When he was younger, he and his sister had begged their mother to take them to the beach after dinner, even in the middle of winter (which considering it was Florida wasn’t that cold anyway). And, usually, she would. Followed by ice cream, of course. These days Mitch normally skipped the ice cream and he tended to go to the beach a lot later than most. During the day there were just too many tourists. At night he could find a secluded spot and watch the stars. Though, the way the weather was turning out, it didn’t look like he’d get much luck at stargazing.

Mitch typically took the car on his night excursions, but unfortunately both sets of keys where hidden in his father’s room because Mitch had “no business being out that late.” It wasn’t a far trek, though, so the teen instead dug out his old bicycle that had been sitting in the garage since he’d gotten his learner’s permit. It was a warm night, warm enough where the soft rain didn’t bother him as he cruised down the nearly deserted streets. It was mostly a slight downward incline all the way to the beach, but getting back would be more difficult. He left the bike on the edge of the parking lot, not wanting to go through the trouble of pushing it through the sand and also content in the knowledge that it was late enough nobody would bother stealing it. He left his shoes, too, and rolled up the cuffs of his jeans.

Just stepping onto the sand sent a wave of relaxation and serenity through him. The warm air, the soft sound of the waves, and the gently rain that kept him from getting too hot in the summer Florida air was the perfect therapy. Mitch moved carefully, keeping his eyes on the ground to avoid stepping on any crabs or garbage. When he was a respectful distance from the water, but still far enough down to avoid any patrol ATVs that might come through, he sat down in the sand facing the ocean.

Watching the waves was hypnotic, the water pulled Mitch into an empty meditation so deep it took quite a while to realize that the spot he’d chosen was already occupied, as the rules of late-night beach access go. In the day, it was polite to maintain a five-foot distance from the next group, depending on how crowded it was. But at night when the beach was empty it extended to minimum twenty feet. Mitch felt embarrassed that he’d broken the rule, it was like sitting at an already occupied table at the library with the rest of the room was completely empty. Locals just didn’t do things like that, they knew better.

Mitch wondered if he should move, but he couldn’t tell if the other person had actually noticed him. It seemed getting up now would just draw more attention to himself. He heard some noise down the beach and could see a couple people with flashlights moving his direction. The teen pulled his legs up to his chest and held his breath. He was too comfortable to move, and the other person was laying down anyway…maybe he was just asleep.

[jude daniel carrigan]

Jude could fall easily fall asleep on the beach. He suddenly felt very lazy and like he didn't want to get up for, oh say, about a week or two. Maybe three. A dark and slightly cold beach would be better then a cold and empty bed. Jude let his eyes slip close again. He took easy, deep breaths, quivering comfortably between consciousness and unconsciousness. Now would be the perfect time for memories to start slipping back into his thoughts, and Jude wouldn't stop them, wither they were good or bad.

'Jude, I really wish that you would stop smoking. You 're only nineteen.' Jude just made a face and quickly snubbed out the cigarette. "Leave me be, old man." Jude rested his head against the other's shoulder and proceeded to count Eric's freckles. "I won't smoke around you anymore, if that's want you want." Jude had always felt a little guilty about smoking around his lover anyways.

Jude blinked when Eric took his head in his hands, so they where eye to eye and noses gently pressed against each others. "I don't care if you smoke around me...I just don't want you to get sick, Jude. My uncle smoked...and it didn't end very well. I don't ever want something that so easily avoidable to happen to you." Jude felt his throat start to tighten. "I love you, Eric..." He whispered it under he breath and he could have sworn he hadn't done so in his head. His eyes flickered open and he sat up slowly when he suddenly realized that he wasn't alone. He quickly attempted to brush the sand out of his hair and to keep the tears from spilling over. He wasn't fond of strangers seeing him cry.

After he was sure he wasn't going to start bawling, he looked toward the other person that was so rudely invading his personal space. After the sun started to go down, Jude got under the impression that this section of the beach was reserved so he could find to time relive some old life. "Uhm..Hello ?" One thing that bugged Jude about first impressions where people would already know half of his background just from accent. He did a pretty good American one. Maybe he should start talking in that voice from now on. And being half-covered in sand and dried seaweed didn't really boost his ego very much either. And of course the kid was cute.

Jude secretly hope that he didn't scare the kid away. Some human companionship wouldn't be so bad right then. As long as he didn't have to do much of the talking. He didn't trust his voice not to crack once and a while. It was at times like that he felt stupid and guilty for thinking he was strong enough to even be thinking about him.

[mitchell leigh michaels]

Fire it up, fire it up
When we finally turn it over
Make a B-line towards the border
Have a drink, you've had enough

Mitch mentally cursed himself when he heard a voice from behind him. It seemed his luck had run out, and the other person what not asleep. He heard what sounded like an accent in the few words the man said, but the teen was too embarrassed to stick around and here more. He was even blushing, what was up with that?

The brunette started to stand up, brushing sand off his pants. Maybe he could act like he had just noticed the other person. Like he hadn’t seen him at all. “Er…sorry…I didn’t know anybody else was out here…” Unfortunately, Mitch realized at that moment that he’d stood up much too fast and was suddenly hit with dizziness as his vision went temporarily black. He was abruptly back in the sand, blinking his vision clear. He’d somehow managed to fall somewhat gracefully, though, so it looked more like he’d gotten up and then just decided to sit right back down.

Mitch shook his head, waiting for the vertigo to pass. He pushed himself back to his feet and turned quickly, wanting to leave before he embarrassed himself more. He made it nearly ten feet before he realized his jeans felt weird. His wallet had fallen out of his back pocket. Mitch was partly grateful he’d realized this so soon and partly embarrassed that he had to turn around and go back.

When he turned around the other man, who he saw was actually quiet tall, was standing there silently, silhouetted against the glow of the ocean. In his hand was what looked to be Mitch’s wallet. In the dim light, the teen blushed slightly. He stepped forward slowly, wiping his hands on his jeans to get the sand off them. “Um…sorry…” The rain had temporarily let up, and a warm, salty wind came at them from the water. It blew Mitch’s hair out of his face, which made him feel more uncomfortable. He used his hair as his security blanket, flicking it in his eyes when he felt like hiding but couldn’t physically do so. Which was how he felt now.

He didn’t like it that he couldn’t see the man’s face. It made him feel nervous, that he feel eyes on him but not actually see them. Mitch looked down, noticing a crab scuttling nearby. He didn’t have much in his wallet…a couple bucks, his driver’s license, his school ID, and maybe an old Starbucks card or something. But all the same he hoped he would get it back. It would not be fun explaining to his dad while he had to pay $50 to get a new license, or whatever the renewal fee was. “Umm…that’s mine…” he gestured to the wallet, still in the stranger’s hand.

[jude daniel carrigan]

Oh who put all those cares inside your head
You can't live your life on your deathbed.

Jude was slightly alarmed when the other person stood up. It really did'nt matter if the kid left, but he would feel slightly guilty if the kid would feel bad because of him. Not that bad, but still a little guilty. “Er…sorry…I didn’t know anybody else was out here…” Before Jude could open his mouth, the kid was already up. He stood up after the boy fell back down, sort of fainted, almost instantly. Now he starting to get slightly worried.

Jude uncurled himself from the sand, his back feeling slightly stiff and his hair and clothes where covered in sand. He knew that when he got home, he would just collapse on the bed and then the sheets would covered in sand for weeks. Jude watched the boy walk away and then spied something square and dark that stood out against the white sand. He walked over and plucked up the wallet off the sand, shaking the sand out of it. He turned it over in his hands, looking up to see if the kid was going to come back and get it or if he would have to go after him.

Jude opened it, taking a quick look inside. He smirked to himself when his eyes flickered over the beginner's license. Specifically the younger boy's name. I was so much easier then just asking the boy his name. His smirked faded when the other boy turned around. He clutched the wallet, watching as the Mitch make his way toward him. Jude wished that he could understand why the kid wanted to get away so badly. He knew he looked tired, but he hoped it wasn't that bad. He knew he needed a shaved, but his clothes where at least decently ironed.

Jude held the wallet out, smiling down at the boy. Once the wind had blown the hair out of Mitch's face, Jude could see he was actually quite cute. Jude cocked his head at him, smirking down at the younger boy. He was pretty good at putting on confident face when he had too. Either with friends of cute boys, he was a good actor. “Umm…that’s mine…” Jude handed the wallet over, his hand brushing against the other's. Jude quickly stuffed his hands in his pockets, almost leaning back onto his heels.

"You know, you don't have to leave just because I'm here. I won't bite you." Jude's eyes flicked away from the boy's face for a moment, looking out over the boardwalk. The street lights where starting to come on and the sun was almost more then half-way sunk below the horizon. Jude turned his attention back to the brunette. "I'm Jude." He thought about holding his hand out for the boy to shake, but changed his mind. He was tempted to hug him, but he didn't want the kid to faint for a second time. He should have started walking home, but he felt like he could get some more fun out of this. He smirked and cocked his head down at the boy. "Are you sure you should be out after dark all by yourself ?"

[mitchell leigh michaels]

Fire it up, fire it up
When we finally turn it over
Make a B-line towards the border
Have a drink, you've had enough

Mitch felt a shiver run through him, but he wasn’t cold. Goosebumps stood up on his arms, and he put his hands in his pocket, pulling his body inward which just made him appear even smaller than he was. He took one step forward to take back his wallet, then stepped back again, returning the item to his back pocket. He didn’t feel the need to check and make sure the other guy had taken anything, since there wasn’t anything to take.

The other man’s statement made him feel more embarrassed. He hadn’t been annoying the man with his presence apparently, but now he’d probably hurt his feelings or something by acting like the other was some weird, dirty hobo. Though he honestly couldn’t tell. At least not until the man turned halfway to look at the boardwalk, allowing light to hit half his face. Dark eyes and a five o’clock shadow could easily have given the man a harsh, fearsome appearance. But the man’s soft expression yielded instead to simply more rugged features. All in all, he was pretty cute.

Mitch smiled slightly when the man introduced himself. Jude…he really liked the name. Not to mention the accent, which oddly tickled him in a way that made him want to blush or start giggling like a girl. It was odd, and probably somehow racist, that the accent comforted him. More so than if the man had had a more regional voice or something. British people were nice, right? Not serial killers. Or at least they didn’t come over to the US to be serial killers. He wished he could see Jude’s face better.

"Are you sure you should be out after dark all by yourself ?" Mitch shrugged, returning his gaze to the sand. He had a few options on how to answer. Of course, he didn’t want the man to know he was just a kid, so he had to make it sound like it was no biggy. And really, it wasn’t. He was out this late almost every night. He also wanted to sound cool, though, something he normally wasn’t very good at. He took a bit longer to answer, trying to formulate the best choice.

”Is there somewhere else I’m supposed to be?” He tried to make it come out relaxed, maybe a little flirtatious, without sounding condescending, but instead his voice choked up at the end and he sounded like he was going through puberty. He swallowed the lump in his throat. He was starting to feel annoyed at the sand in his hair and the wind coming from the ocean. Mitch looked over at the boardwalk, knowing there would be some all-night coffee shop or something open. “Um…do you want to get some coffee or something? Before the rain picks up?” He wished he could make his voice sound less obviously nervous. Then again, didn’t they always say you were your own worst critic? Maybe he didn’t actually sound that bad.