“ And I sneak out, And I get high, And you miss me, And it made me feel beautiful. „

The year is 1984.

“ Lay down in our backseat, You kissed me and it made me feel beautiful. „

Kian swore up and down to himself that the weird buzzing in his chest he felt towards Rolan was just him feeling safe around him. Then, when he finally accepted his feelings as they were, he asked Rolan out with a bit of courage that had built up over the years. Rolan had rejected him.

“ Nice eyes with a kind face, And a strong chest. Man, you are beautiful. „

Kian hated being like this. So desperate to be cared for. To feel loved, genuinely loved. Not like the babes he had around his place, smiling so fondly at Kian, only there for his looks and fake fame. So, smoking with Rand was a very common occurrence. Rolan himself didn’t smoke, and even then, he was busy.

Rand was nice to smoke with. The two had talks. Genuinely intimate talks. Soft spoken words between quiet laughs and cigarettes. So here they were, sitting in Kian’s car with the windows rolled down and the doors open, parked near an empty park. Talking like they usually were.

“ Give me your brain, and I’ll give you my oxygen, I’m writing lyrics on all my walls again. „

“Rand,” Kian said after a while, fiddling with the lighter in his hand. Why was he so warm around Rand? Why did he feel so much like he did with Rolan? It was a nice friendship. Kian didn’t want to ruin it. He was already a wrecked man himself, identity and sexuality fucked up and all. “Have you.. have you ever considered being with a guy?” Kian mumbled, unsure of what else to say.

Kian groans internally at his decision of where to steer the conversation, taking his feet off the dashboard. “Like, genuinely liking a guy, y’know? Not a relationship for jokes, or- or shits and giggles.”