"Bound's" Cut Scene: Chris and David Primal Shoot Part One
-December, 2024- Friday, New Orleans-
Admittedly waking up the next morning after a raucous night out with the boys was like the greatest trial of Christian's life.
To say they had celebrated his and Darren's engagement was not to be understated.
They had danced, they had laughed, they had swapped stories from around the world...well they had and Christian had smiled pretty and nodded a lot over that topic but damn it, he had been there listening and living vicariously through it so he called it a win.
The whole group had traded back and forth tidbits of the lifestyle, the boys got to know each other, and pretty sure at least half a dozen times Chris had seen Philipe with Eli trying to charm the literal pants off the cool-as-a-cucumber younger player.
Eli of course played it off, played hard to get, and knew all about being desired, emulated, and wanted in his life by literally every single human creature who saw him. In that, Philipe had his work cut out for him.
Christian could tell the Frenchman was not used to having a man so on par, so unimpressed by his swagger, and indeed might have had him beat on the sheer class and finances he was showing up to the table with.
It would seem for every Bugatti Philipe metaphorically had stashed away, Eli came flexing harder with two and it was clearly turning the Frenchie on his head with thrill.
Christian had burst out laughing when Philipe had scooped him up at the bar at one point, put lips to his ear, and said, "I shall win zis man to me, my lover. Put in a good word so that I may see him shatter apart as he makes you shatter so often, oui?"
Needless to say, it had been quite the night.
Christian opened his eyes with his screaming alarm, engulfed so sweetly between Darren and Eli nothing in him, and he meant nothing was ready to move from that nest of hot youthful male bodies sprawled around him.
Frankly, he didn't even recall getting back in.
The last clear memory he had was of leaving Easy's with the guys, walking down Bourbon's Street lit nightlife, hammered off his ass while the energy amped to a thousand, and finding a club whose name Chris had no clue what it could have been.
He found his hand stamped though with some smear of red ink and exhaled out the taste of stale liquor with a roll of threatening stomach acid.
Fuck.
He jarred when Darren snapped, "Chris, shut the fucking alarm off."
"I don't want to move." He sounded so pathetic even to his own ears and fucking knew he had done it to himself. Still, his phone was at least a mile away on the nightstand. At least.
It was Eli who popped up, scowling pissily, leaned all the way over Chris and Darren to grab it with a flailing hand, and desperately shut the screaming alarm off. "Get your ass out of here." Eli squinted at the time. "You have an hour and a half to get ready and go. Just be quiet about it."
Christian yawned, ignored both their hungover attitudes, and tried to squirm deeper into the pillows and bodies around him. "But I can rest my eyes for like fifteen minutes."
"This is why you're always late." Darren sounded unconcerned but that little tone suggested that Christian was dooming himself if he dared shut his eyes again.
So, that had been his first three minutes alive that morning.
Christian was so weary, feeling his body like he had been beaten with crowbars, popped two Tylenol, and jumped into the shower to then stand under the water stream for a long, long few minutes just trying to shake it off.
It was how he knew he was getting closer to thirty years old. He couldn't drink as he had back even a few years ago and that was an overarching theme he learned drinking with people who hadn't even broken the twenty-year mark. If Darren and Eli felt it then sure as Hell it was guaranteed Chris might as well have been dead on arrival.
Sometimes, he would have a startled moment of pause in his life while he was enjoying a nice wine at home or something and recall how much he had drank while living on his own and then immediately cringe over it just in memory. How many times he had gotten blitzed off hard liquor to kill the screaming voices in his head, or make him brave enough to just open his front door and go get his mail?
The thought never ceased to surprise him. Still, it served as a great reminder that while there were days when he felt like he had made no progress in himself at all, he would then recall shit like that and have to reevaluate that whole line of thought.
That morning he had glanced down, seen the shine of white gold on his finger, and supposed a lot had changed for him in under two years. A lot.
Part of him would always give credit where credit was due; credit he would never say out loud to a Walker, Darren included. It was his dirtiest little secret, however, at the end of the day, he always gave a salute up to the sky to Mikael Mariol for pulling him out of his slump.
No matter what else it was and had morphed into, Christian knew damn well that if he and Mikael had never given into that desire to explore beyond their norm, if Mikael had never pursued him into the dirt and pulled him from his apartment, hell if the man hadn't lost it and come in to wreck his place then literally none of his life now would be in motion.
He would have never felt brave enough to move into the Walker house. He would have never connected with Darren under that roof and in fact, it could be argued that had Mikael never flipped shit to start with there would have never been a reason for Darren to even come back to Roster for more than a brief visit.
Even now Darren would have just continued on with his year off before college, would have been pursuing his degree for the family business in Colorado, and frankly Christian wasn't convinced he would have lasted that long with Caleb either way. Eventually, the man's jealousy or Christian's own terrors would have made him skittish and bolt so he couldn't even think that he would have met Darren later on a whim during a family visit on a holiday.
Crazy how life turns out sometimes.
Not sure why he was thinking so hard about Mikael either but honestly, he had been a lot lately off and on. He thought a lot about what would have happened had he just put up a hand, found that inner strength, and turned the man down that first night when he had caved and blown the guy in his back seat.
Mikael would definitely still be alive and if he wasn't, then it would have been through no fault of Christian's. They would still be friends, he would still be having movie nights and dinners out with the man, and have none of the drama with Caleb that had manifested and blown up so spectacularly.
He sure as hell wouldn't bear that inner scarring weight of having been the one to pull a trigger on the man, a man mind you, that had been his childhood and longest friend of twenty years. It sucked to know and it haunted him sometimes to remember the look on Mikael's face seconds before Christian had pulled the trigger back. To see that bloom of blood soak his fine suit and shirt so fast it had been almost surreal to watch it happen.
He might not have killed the man with the final trigger pull but, man, he felt like he had.
Either way, it was like Christian could see this bizarre double superimposed picture of what his life would still be and list it out point by life-altering point: stagnant but his life would have been remarkably the same.
Christian exhaled it out, washed down, flipped it all off while he turned his eyes to the prize that was this reality and more his morning with David.
Honestly, in the here and now he was excited.
He had done a little research on it and hadn't really contemplated the word "primal" outside of just a word you might throw around talking about instincts or like, the ancient Neolithic past or something.
Instead, Christian had learned that David's brand of kink was absolutely wild and he meant that literally. It had conjured memories of his time spent with Darren and Drew when he had run from them through Caleb's house and gardens only more feral by all accounts.
He had no idea what to expect but he had a feeling that David was coming with guns blazing and would be letting it all hang out today.
He had been hot-eyed on Christian all night the previous day out and twice had asked him if he was good to go, if he had his safeword ready, things like that.
Christian thought he was ready; he hoped so at least.
So with that thought, he slipped out quietly to find Darren and Eli had gone back down for the count, smiled at the dark and light pairing indulging in their short vacation in the Big Easy, and swiftly dressed in a casual jean, a plain white long-sleeved tee, and threw on his HeyDudes to go out in the world. Nothing he minded getting torn or destroyed. He packed a little bag with a change of clothes, made sure he had his phone, key, and wallet, and called it good to go.
He woke Darren up enough to kiss his lips and whisper his farewells, left Eli to his cranky hangover, and slipped out the door with a light step.
Christian had a feeling he was going to learn something new about himself all over again and was excited to find out what that might be.
