Page 34 of Crocodile Tears

He was wearing a red, skin-tight, metamesh body suit that he’d designed himself, which left nothing to the imagination.

“Nah. I hate this place – bunch of posers.” Alex stubbed out his cigarette on the old wooden table in front of him.

In contrast to Bax, he was dressed almost conservatively in a pair of black jeans, big black biker boots, an electric-blue shirt, and his trademark ankle-length black velvet coat, which, according to Bax, was driving all the gay boys in Oxford wild. His eyes were smudged with black eyeliner, and he’d scrunched his hair so that it hung in messycurls around his face. In his left ear he wore a small hooped earring with a silver feather dangling from it; he’d self-pierced his ear while high on croc a few weeks ago, mainly because he thought it would annoy his father.

“You’re such a bore. Honestly, why do you even come out clubbing with us if you hate it so much?” Bax chided.

“Sex and croc,” Alex replied, with a crooked grin.

“Hah!” Bax waved his hands around theatrically. “As a fully certified sex god you could have anyone you want, as you well know, you vile beast.” He pursed his lips tragically. “Although why the wealthy scion of the House of Lytton can’t afford to buy his own croc is beyond me.”

“I’m going home tomorrow to spend two weeks with my father. If I don’t score enough croc to see me through, I won’t survive.” Alex hunched his shoulders miserably at the thought of Christmas at The Orchard.

“Aw – poor baby. Well, let’s see if I can help, then,” Bax mused. “Oh! I know! I’ve heard that Gerard Lucas-Nash always has plenty of croc, and he’d probably give away half his fortune to sleep with you. Of course, he’s troll-like in his hideousness, so he wouldn’t stand a chance with you any other way. Eww.” He gave a full-body shudder. “I feel like I’m your croc pimp.”

“Who the hell is Gerard Lucas-Nash?”

“Very ugly, very rich.” Bax grinned. “And he’s got a crush the size of Mars on a certain Alexander Lytton. Then again, who doesn’t?” He assumed a mournful pose, one arm over his forehead. “Beautiful, tragic, moody Alex. Do you even know the effect you have on us all, darling?”

Leaning over, he kissed Alex’s cheek. “Of course you do. You could have me any day,” he whispered seductively into Alex’s ear. “I’m yours. Take me!” He splayed out his arms and draped himself in Alex’s lap. Alex rolled his eyes and pushed him away.

“I’m hard for him twenty-four-seven but he doesn’t care, the heartless creature,” Bax lamented, picking himself up and taking another draw on his vape with a magnificent huff of disappointment.

“It’s better this way, Bax. You don’t want to be involved with me.”

“Because you’re so dark, brooding, and sad, doomed by your ownbeauty to a life of lonely one-night stands?” Bax suggested. “Don’t you see how wild that drives us all, darling? That’s precisely why everyone wants to fuck you.”

“No, you want tofixme. You want to mend my dark heart and damaged soul with the power of your epic lurve,” Alex mocked. “I’d disappoint you in the end, Bax, trust me.”

“Maybe, but the journey would be so beautiful.” Bax sighed. “Just one night in your arms would make me so happy, my dark and despoiled angel.”

“Fuck off.” Alex grinned, lighting another cigarette.

“Why do you insist on smoking those ugly old things when you could make sparkling circles of shimmering light in the air with one of these?” Bax blew out a cloud of bright strawberry smoke to illustrate his point.

“I dunno. I like the taste, the feel…” Alex shrugged.

“And the fact they’re illegal, and these aren’t?” Bax grinned.

“Hah.” Alex just laughed.

“Talking of illegal – where’s your sturdy-but-oh-so-dull flatmate tonight? His clothes should be made illegal. I’ve never seen anything so appalling – all that beige and green.”

“Neil? I dunno. I didn’t ask him along.”

“Thank God! No offence, but he’s the dreariest gay boy in Oxford. How can you bear him?”

“He’s okay.”

Bax looked at him sharply. “Are you sleeping with that beige boy, Alexander Lytton?”

Alex shrugged, and Bax’s mouth opened in a big “oh”. He slapped his hand across it dramatically, pointing at Alex.

“You are! Oh, my poor darling – what a hideous waste. But why him?” He pouted. “What’s he got that I don’t? Hmm? I can guarantee you that I’m more exciting in bed.”

“Look, I’m here with you tonight, and I don’t want to talk about him – okay?”

“Okay.” Bax sniffed. “Always so moody – it’s a blessing you’re so beautiful, or nobody would put up with you.”

---