Maybe all Bart really needed was an alibi. That would get him through the night, wouldn't it?
Oh, that thing he needed to do. To be a part of the gang. Some shite like that. Just get the job done.
Unfortunately, Bart wasn't so good at following instructions. He'd rather make his own rules, along the way. Who knew it would be so hard to be a drug dealer.
Actually, he needed the cash. And he was good at it. He made the connections. He was your guy. Except, he wasn't so good at consequences. You know, when a problem might come up. And there was a problem. He didn't really mean to be a part of it. Not with the rich housewife and her poor little rich daughter. They were going lax on their credit. Bart couldn't make them see, and he'd given in which lead to trouble. And now he was laying low.
"You, want to do something?" Bart hated to be desperate, but he was a sitting duck here. They'd find him, string him up, he supposed. Just where could he go?
"Depends what you mean?" Ed looked at him as if didn't know the code.
Bart smiled. "You, been to the roof?" That would be a different way out.
"Can't say I have." Ed shrugged as the disco music played on, streaming through the place as the heartbeat of the dance floor.
Bart pulled Ed in and kissed him hard, like an invitation. He took his hand and headed upstairs. Bart so hoped Ed wanted to take him home. He reached for him once more on the stairway. This time Bart pulled Ed's hand toward him more, letting him have a feel, so he would know what was waiting for him.
Bart hurried up the stairwell. It was a damn three flight of stairs. They were both out of breath but still the adrenaline pumping. Soon Bart popped open the door and they were into the moist night air under the stars.
He noticed Ed's open smile. Bart kissed him, again.
"What are we doing up here?" Ed said ever so breathless. Bart slid his hand directly inside Ed's jeans and found what he was looking for.
Ed's chuckle gave way to an... oh.