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Warning: Contains Boys Love and vulgar language.

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Chapter 9: Kisses Too Sweet For Reality (Part B)


Cameron looked up and down the road as he paced back and forth, glanced over his shoulder now and again, searching for a navy blue car. About twenty minutes after Cameron had gotten home from school Elliot had called. A person would think that it’s much easier to talk to someone, especially someone you’re crushing on, over the phone. But as Cameron sadly discovered, the theory was false. If anything it was harder. In person he had to be careful to not get caught sneaking looks, but at least it was much easier to see where a person was coming from while they talked. Body language, whether people realized it or not, is necessary when understanding a person. But over the phone all a person has is the tone of the other's voice, and even then the phone distorts some sound. Not only that, but over the phone Cameron couldn’t help but wonder if Elliot had waited to call him, or if he had called him the moment he got home. Was he annoyed? Or was he calm, like during lunch? It was impossible to know.

Cameron came to the conclusion once the phone call ended that he hated phones.

Now he paced back and forth along the sidewalk beside the movie theatre downtown, a couple of miles out of the main town. They’d made plans to see the seven PM showing. Elliot had said that he was driving a navy blue car, and that if he were late to just go inside and get the seats. He’d meet him inside. Cameron had only just arrived at the theatre about five minutes ago, but already he was starting to panic. What was taking Elliot so long? Did he change his mind and decide the movie—and Cameron—just weren’t worth it after all? His heart was beating so hard, he could feel it pulse everywhere in his body, like some sort of throbbing alarm clock—wake up, Cameron, wake up. He’s not going to come.

He eyed the road, the tall brick buildings and the flashy lights of stores and cars as they drove by. His eyes locked onto a navy blue car parking in the theatre’s parking lot, and a breath of calm eased over him. It’s okay, I can do this. This is nothing. Just an outing between two people—who’re guys—and nothing more. Cameron ceased his pacing and watched Elliot exit out of his car, seemingly indifferent to the rest of the noisy and fast-paced world around him. Although Cameron had expected as such, it still surprised him to see Elliot out of their school's uniform and in something much more casual. He was wearing a baggy pair of black jeans and a dark brown t-shirt over a black and white stripe long-sleeved shirt. He didn’t look like the usual Elliot that Cameron was so accustomed to, but, he still looked like himself. And he had to admit, Elliot looked good. Cameron suddenly felt a little ridiculous. Elliot looked down to earth, sensible; not all tripped out and irregular like he was. He was wearing his favourite blue tie-dye hoody and a pair of semi-tight jeans, along with his pair of green high-top converse. Definitely not down to earth.

Elliot approached Cameron. “Hey. What’re you staring at?”

“Your…car,” Cameron forced out, followed by his trademark goofy grin. “It’s a really nice car. A real hot ride.” Cameron nearly squirmed in his own skin as Elliot eyed him oddly, as if not quite believing him but not curious enough to ask.

“Are you on something?”

“No.”

“Okay then,” The dirty-blond boy shook his head as if still weirded out and began walking towards the theatre. “Come on. The movie will start soon.”

“R—Right!” Cameron started after him, fighting an internal struggle to keep his eyes up and ahead, not downwards and visually groping. Self-control, Cameron. Self. Control.

“Look, why don’t I buy the tickets while you go get the food?” Elliot asked while they stood in the ticket-line up. “That way we won’t be late; two birds with one stone.”

“You trust me to get you food?” Cameron asked with disbelief. He remembered the bewildered look that had crossed Elliot’s features when he’d brought back gummy worms, beef jerky, and an energy drink just a few weeks ago.

“Yeah. You have good enough taste,” Elliot said as if stating a simple fact. Cameron had to keep himself from jumping for joy. Instead he agreed and left to go get the food. He couldn’t believe it, Elliot had complimented him! Weeks ago such a thing was unimaginable. But it’d happened, and he was ecstatic that it did. But when he got to the vendor the bliss was put on hold. Did Elliot want him to get an odd mix of food again or did he expect the classics?

“What can I get you, Sir?” The lady behind the counter drawled, stiff with boredom.

“Uh…” God, there was so much to choose from. Why did movie theatres offer such variety these days? They might as well put a restaurant right there in the building with them. Well, he’d just have to choose at random again and hope it worked out for the best. “I’ll have a bag of Skittles and two large nachos…are those smoothies? Two of those, any flavor, doesn’t matter. Hmm, what else you got? Whoa, soft pretzels? Two of those. And…yeah, that’s it.”

The woman behind the counter blinked, as if shaken out of a heavy sleep. The register dinged as her hand flew across the keys. “That’ll be thirty-two dollars and seventy-three cents, sir.”

Cameron fished through his wallet while the people behind the counter flew right to left, preparing the extravagant order. He handed the woman two twenties and while enjoying his blissful moments, told her to keep the change.

“And you go overboard again,” Elliot said from behind. Cameron watched him study the large mountain of food. He didn’t look displeased but he didn’t look surprised either.

“Hey, you said I have good taste,” Cameron reminded him, as if that explained everything.

“Yeah, I said that,” Elliot conquered, “but did you really need to get that much?”

“Gore-fests make me hungry.” Elliot just shook his head. Cameron frowned. “What? They do!”

“Sir, your food,” the woman drawled, looking in their direction but not at them, more at the wall behind them. Cameron thanked her, and they grabbed their food. They checked their tickets; the movie was in theatre room two. Elliot pressed his back up against the theatre door and held it open so that Cameron could get in, his arms too full of food to do much else. Cameron mumbled a thank-you, feeling a little odd as he walked past Elliot and into the dark room. Elliot stepped away and the door swung shut, sealing off the light from the outside world, the dark of the room blinding. All they had to go by were the tiny lights along the bottom of the floor against the wall. Cameron’s grip on his food tightened when Elliot brushed up against him, as if the other boys touch were electric and shocking.

“Are you going to stand there all day?”

“No.” Cameron followed the tiny lights, his eyes slowly adjusting the lack of light. He could vaguely make out Elliot’s figure in the dark, already turning around a corner. Cameron followed him and spotted Elliot in one of the middle rows of the theatre, already getting situated and comfortable. Cameron climbed up a few stairs, eyes exploring the vast theatre. There were only a few other people there besides them. All of them right in the back.

Which meant that they were practically alone.

I hate you, Maxi, Cameron cursed internally. But, it was just a movie. It wasn’t a date (Did his heart just stop? Nope, he was still alive, just false alarm), and it wasn’t the end of the world. Or so he kept telling himself. Maybe if he said it enough times he could believe it.

He took his seat beside Elliot, but when his arm accidentally brushed against Elliot’s, he flinched, body tensing, the plastic of his smoothie cup crackling loudly in the quiet.

“What’re you spazzing over?”

“Nothing.” If you could call the last few weeks and the wild drumming of his heart “nothing”.

Elliot mumbled something incoherent, but Cameron shrugged it off and settled himself in. The large screen in front of them was flashing with images and colours and the speakers set up all around the room were already alive with dramatic orchestra and voices, low and timber, high but delicate, as if the theatre itself were a living entity, or a completely different world set apart from the one outside the theatre doors. Movie magic, people called it, as if the theatre were an enigmatic magician with thousands of tricks hidden underneath its' top hat. The room was dark and filled with a chaotic harmony of sounds as the movie started. Cameron saw the screen, but he didn’t see it. Heard the music, but didn’t really hear it. No matter how hard he tried, all he could hear was the snapping and crunching of nachos while Elliot ate. Out of the corner of his eye, all he could see was Elliot concentrating intently on the screen to the point that he looked statuesque. Cameron shifted uneasily in his seat, unable to get comfortable, too aware of the boy beside him. The padding of the chair was too soft and the plastic too hard, and what was poking him in the back?

“Would you settle down?” Elliot whispered, eyeing him strongly. Even his voice sounded stiff. Cameron mumbled an apology and sat as still as he could. He studied the screen. The generic little girl playing on the swing set, all smiles and pigtails. It was around then that a shadow emerged from behind a tree, the tall dark figure brandishing a knife behind his back. It was around when the first scream of the evening echoed alone in the dark room that Cameron began to squirm again.

“Did something crawl up your ass and die?” Elliot hissed, not taking his eyes off of the screen. “What’s the matter?”

“Just uncomfortable.” Cameron swallowed, suddenly aware of his parched throat. He took a long sip of his smoothie to distract himself. Elliot seemed tenser now; it was like his body was made of stone. Cameron glanced over at Elliot’s hands that gripped the arms of his seat, the flesh around the knuckled blanching. Overwhelmed with guilt, Cameron inhaled and added, “Maxi was right, this movie sucks. Wanna just leave?”

“No.”

“No? You look like you’re going to rip someone’s head off.” At that he leaned back, remembering that he was the only human being within Elliot’s reach.

Elliot shook his head stubbornly, jaw clenched. “No. The movie's fine. It’ll get better.”

There was no way Elliot was going to change his mind, so Cameron dropped the suggestion, but he just couldn’t drop the guilt the easily. This was probably his fault. Elliot could get along with him fine so long as other people were nearby, but alone? Did he still annoy him? Worrying about all of this was starting to erode at his confidence and wear him down.

What the hell was he supposed to think?

Ready to give up, Cameron looked at the screen, and in a split-second shot of hideously graphic gore doubled over in a hysterical fit laughter. Elliot jumped in his seat, hands vice-like on the arms of the chair. He gapped at Cameron, horrified, as if he’d never seen someone laugh like that before. The scene hadn’t even been that funny, but somehow, with all of the ridiculous thoughts and feelings swarming inside, buzzing and humming worse than a massive swarm of bees, Cameron had clung to that one shot in the movie and laughed. Just laughed until his sides throbbed with sharp pain after each inhale, and until his cheeks began to hurt from the strain. Laughing solved nothing of course, but damn did it ever feel good.

By the time he’d calmed down to tiny chortles, he noticed Elliot’s stupefied expression. Without thinking, Cameron just slapped him on the back, all friendly-like. “Hey, lighten up! Didn’t you see that?”

Elliot was still gaping. “No.”

Cameron bit his lower lip, fighting back more nervous laughter. “Just keep watching. There’s bound to be more moments.”

Sure enough, there were. As one of the characters, a father desperate to save his stepdaughter from the killer, searched the desolate streets around the playground for her, the killer slinked up behind him, knife poised and glinting in the moon's rays. This moment wasn’t funny either, but when the blood spurted like a gushing fountain, Cameron couldn’t help but laugh again, clinging again to this moment to get him through the wounded feelings and horrible thoughts, willing to use the worst scenes in the movie to lessen the heavy load on his shoulders. It occurred to him that he was the only one laughing, but it didn’t matter.

The next moment came, wrought with drooping and sloppy gore, gushing all over the pavement with sickening squelches. Cameron doubled over in his seat in another humorous fit.

“What’s so funny?” Elliot demanded, still tense, still on edge.

“You might think this is sick,” Cameron snickered, “But I just got the deadliest image of a butcher working while watching this. Look! It looks like the sausage they grind up at meat-shops.” He laughed even harder when he heard Elliot visibly gag, followed by a curse. But, trailing after that curse was a bit of a chortle, and his grip on the arms of the chair had lessened. When a plank of wood struck a mother on the screen hard enough to send her flying, twisting at an odd angle on one foot, Cameron laughed again, and this time Elliot laughed beside him, tiny at first, hesitant, but before long he was covering his mouth, shaking with hardly repressed mirth. It was music to Cameron’s ears. Even Elliot’s laughter, much like his smile, was contagious, which was bad enough when Cameron was already holding his sides in delirious pain. The pain only made the moment all the more beautiful. It seemed as though the laughter wouldn’t stop coming in violent ruptures as more and more moments came, strewn together in congested clumps.

“This is ridiculous,” Cameron gasped out, coughing a bit as he fought for a chance to catch his breath, “I mean look at that! It’s gorgeous, but ridiculous.”

Elliot nodded in agreement, hand still covering the smile that was spread wide across his face.  “Too much blood. I know the human body has a lot, but that looks like a flesh wound. It’s just gushing!”

Cameron snorted, hardly able to contain his laughter. "Nice Monty Python reference there, but you're right, they’re being too graphic. They're showing too much, too."

“Too much?”

“Yeah.” Cameron took a calming breath, but he couldn’t resist with more smiles, no matter how tired his cheeks were. “Real horror lets you use your imagination and provides only what you need to get your mind going. If they show everything, what’s left to think up? Besides, the human mind can come up with crazy shit much scarier than all of this.”

“But you called this is a ‘gore-fest’. The same rules don’t apply, do they?”

Cameron flushed. Something about that tone (Playful? Teasing?) just got the blood rushing upwards. Thankfully it was dark enough to go unnoticed. “True, you got me there.” He rubbed the back of his neck, not sure what else to say.

“So, I take it you like Alfred Hitchcock?”

“A little bit,” Cameron answered. “I like anything that’s good.”

“What do you deem as ‘good’?” Elliot snickered, but the words held no threat, no ulterior motive or cruelness.

“Mostly sci-fi.”

“So, Star-Wars?”

Cameron chuckled weakly, too tired to really laugh or anything. “Oh yeah. Bring on the stormtroopers!” He heard Elliot chuckle with him, and knowing that he was making Elliot smile and laugh was highly elating. He relaxed further into his seat, finally comfortable. He took another sip of his smoothie, and while he was opening the bag of Skittles asked, “What do you like?”

Elliot smirked and ate some of his soft pretzel. “Anything good.”

Cameron frowned. “Hey, that’s cheating. Come on, I told you. Unless you don’t like anything at all. Do you sit around your house all day and stare at the wall?”

“Yes. I sit around all day and stare at the wall. In case you couldn’t tell, that was sarcasm.” He reached over and stole some of Cameron’s Skittles, smirking when Cameron gaped at him as if he’d just broken the law. “I like a lot of things, but I generally like fantasy.”

“You? Fantasy?”

“Yeah. Too unbelievable?”

“A little. You always seemed, I dunno…down-to-earth.”

Elliot snorted, but he wasn’t frowning, and he didn’t seem annoyed. That was a good sign.

“So, you like Lord of the Rings? That kind of thing?”

Elliot shrugged and took a long sip of his smoothie. “Sure. Why not? Trolls and Elves are my calling.”

On the giant movie screen a grandmother screamed her horror as she was hacked to bits, powerless against the seemingly invincible killer. Cameron whistled.

“Is it just me or did this movie just get worse?”

“It’s not just you.” Elliot shifted in his seat. Cameron tensed when Elliot’s arms accidentally brushed against his for what must have been the third time that evening. Elliot’s arm didn’t seem too much in a hurry though as he shifted, and the longer it touched Cameron’s the more heated the touch seemed, but Cameron was too scared to move. He turned his head and focused as much of his drifting attention as he could on the movie. But he couldn’t control himself for long. His eyes drifted; too shy to go upwards so instead they fell and rested on Elliot’s hands. He wondered if they were as soft and firm as they’d felt in his dreams. The thought opened an empty hole inside, because he knew that those hands would never go his way. He was lucky that Elliot was even talking to him, much less hanging out with him. Wasn’t this enough? Why did he have to keep desiring more?

“You okay? You look kinda sick.”

Cameron nodded his head, not trusting his voice to answer for him. But it was a lie. He did feel sick. He wished it were the kind of illness where he could just go vomit somewhere, alone and in private, until the feelings were all gone. Then he could get on with his life. Unfortunately, this wasn’t that sort of illness.

“Are you sure?” Cameron’s heart throbbed with a dull ache, too weary for it to be sharp pain anymore. He swore he heard concern in Elliot’s voice…what sickening sweet torture. As if Elliot cared, not in the way Cameron hoped, anyway. He nodded again.

Elliot narrowed his eyes and turned in his seat so that he was facing him, arms crossed. “Liar. Do you need a bag or something?”

“No. I’m good.” He tried to smile just one last time for the night, but it hurt too much. He raked his fingers through his hair, nails scraping roughly against the scalp in a split-second fit of frustration. He could feel Elliot’s eyes burning into his body, as if he could see right through. Cameron stared back, hoping that maybe Elliot would give up and let him be for a moment, but he didn’t. Cameron couldn’t look away. The colours and light from the movie flashed across Elliot’s figure, outlining his regal and handsome figure.

“Don’t even worry about it.” Cameron hoped Elliot didn’t worry about it, not that there was any chance that Elliot would. He wasn’t worth the worry, anyway. “I was just thinking.”

“About?”

“Things.” The word came out defensive.  “Just things.”

“Can’t be good things. You were fine a second ago.”

Cameron frowned. “Why would it matter?”

“Why wouldn’t it matter?” Elliot countered, the tone recognizably guarded.

“Well, it doesn’t.” Cameron swallowed a large and suffocating lump at the back of his throat. Just how much intensity could Elliot’s eye hold? It seemed endless. “Just forget about it, Elliot. Stop pretending you care.”

“Pretending?” Elliot smirked heatedly. “You think I’m pretending?”

Cameron looked away, studying every last detail of the red plush carpet underneath his feet. “Aren’t you?”

Elliot snorted, quipping bitterly, “Why in the world would I ever pretend?”

“I don’t know.” Cameron wished he knew. He’d known Elliot long enough now to know that he wasn’t the type of guy to fake anything. He was too honest and serious to ever lie. That’s how he’d known that Elliot had hated him since day one, but…could those feelings have changed as well? Not just on the surface?

They both remained quiet; the sickening sounds of murder and gore went unnoticed, supplying only background noise. Elliot was still staring at him. Cameron heaved a huge breath to calm his trembling insides. He felt so vulnerable, like his insides were on display and subject to brutal critique. Did Elliot really need to stare like that?

“Cameron, are you sure you’re okay?”

Cameron bit his lip. That was the first time he’d ever heard Elliot ever say his name, and it had sounded so sweet. “Yes, I’m fine.” But that was a lie. “No…” He wasn’t sure what anything was anymore. Where was up and where was down? “Look, it’s stupid.” No, no it wasn’t stupid. “Don’t even worry about it.” He finished it off as light-hearted as possible, but it only came across as fake, and it failed.

Elliot exhaled after a moments pause. “Fine. Sit there and suffer. Don’t blame me when you vomit all over the place.”

“I’m not going to vomit,” Cameron protested, though he didn’t know why he should bother anyway when it’d only provoke Elliot to demand what was really going on, which would only make things worse. “Look, I…have you ever felt like yourself, but not like yourself?”

Elliot’s gaze softened as he processed the words. “What do you mean exactly?”

Cameron shrugged, suddenly feeling too warm, too cornered, even though he’d been the one to throw himself out into the open. “I’m just going through some things.” Weird dreams, even weirder desires. Just the usual. “I dunno. Am I making any sense?”

“A little.” Elliot finally looked away, but he didn’t seem to be looking at anything in particular. The room was still too warm. How could it be so warm with hardly any else besides them there? Elliot cleared his throat, gaze still averted. “I think I know where you’re coming from. I’ve been going through weird times, too.”

“Really?” Suddenly Cameron didn’t feel so alone. He’d felt so weird for the past few weeks, like a stranger in his own body. But the knowledge that someone else—especially when that someone was as person he admired—was going through similar feelings felt like enough to alleviate that alienation.

“Yeah,” Elliot sighed, still looking away. “It’s been a long school year, and it’s not even Halloween yet.”

Cameron nodded. “My sentiments exactly. I don’t know what to do with myself. I’m second guessing everything. I think about the same things over and over again, but none of it makes much more sense than it did the first time. I’m not getting anywhere,” Cameron continued, gaining confidence with each word he spoke. “I’m not even sure what’s going on anymore.”

“I know what you mean. So, you’re just worried about things?”

“Pretty much,” Cameron admitted. It wasn’t a lie; all of this was bothering him. Not in the irritating way, like when a fly buzzed around and refused to leave. More in the way that he didn’t know what was going on. He had the pieces and he could put them together, but he couldn’t digest any of it. What was real and fake? Or was all of this in his head?

“Hope it works out for you.”

“You mean you honestly care?”

Elliot blinked, caught off-guard. He looked away, but it lacked its usual conviction and self-assurance. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Why wouldn’t he? Cameron’s curiosity was poking its head around the corner, interested. He began to take those first tentative steps forward in the dark. “I always thought you hated me, because…well, you know. Your obvious dislike of my club.”

Elliot quickly turned back. “I don’t hate you! Didn’t…I don’t hate you now.” The words sounded strong, but conflicting meanings clashed all over the place. Don’t? Didn’t?

“So you hated me back then?”

“No. I didn’t like your club, and you did annoy me, but not so much now.”

Despite himself and his weariness, Cameron’s mouth pulled back into a wide, unabashed grin. What a thing to hear! He wanted to skip up and down the theatre aisles, tap his feet in mid-air like in those olds films. “So you like me now, right?”

Elliot noticeably grimaced and frowned at the movie screen. A harmony of whining violins accompanied the final scene of the movie, the killer lying in a scarlet sea in the shadow of the one mother still alive, her hand shielding the eyes of her beloved child. “Don’t push your luck,” he mumbled.

Don’t push my luck? Cameron thought, but it was already too late. His curiosity had caught the hook, even if Elliot hadn’t meant to fish for his interest. Elliot couldn’t point out that something was hidden behind a curtain and not expect him to pull back said curtain to see what it is. Awareness of the unknown always made Cameron’s hands itch to pull back the curtain and unveil the truth. Elliot couldn’t tell him to ‘not push his luck’ now! “What do you mean, don’t push my luck?”

The ending credits were rolling now. Elliot got up from his seat and quickly shuffled past Cameron, not once meeting his eyes. Cameron got up hastily and followed him. The light of the world outside of the theatre was too bright and his eyes stung, but he hurried to Elliot’s side. Elliot, who stared ahead, too focused. Cameron reached out, fingertips barely brushing against him before Elliot hastily withdrew the arm.

“Elliot? Did I say something wrong?”

“No.” Elliot pushed on the front door of the theatre too hard and it nearly slammed against the glass wall beside it. The sky outside was thick with too many clouds, devoid of any cheerful hue, and the air was thick with the sounds of traffic and the musky smell of smoke and gasoline, much denser compared to the pleasant smells of buttery popcorn and candy in the inside of the theatre. Cameron picked up the pace and began walking ahead of Elliot, but when the other boy didn’t stop walking (Was he trying to escape?) Cameron sidestepped in front of him and forced him to an unexpected halt.

“What’d I do?”

“Nothing. I gotta go. Later.”

“Hey, hey!” Cameron sidestepped again, blocking Elliot one more time. His eyes met Elliot’s dead-on until Elliot turned away, mouth pulled in a taut line. “Why’re you freaking out?”

“I’m not freaking out.”

“Was it what I said a minute ago?”

“I said don’t push your luck.”

Cameron flinched. Elliot sounded so cold, like he was ultra-sensitive and determined to have the whole world back off and give him some air. But why? All he’d asked was ‘so you like me now, right?’

Wait.

His hand was already fingering the metaphorical curtain, feeling the soft mystery, yearning to pull the cloth back.

“Elliot?”

“What?” he snapped.

“You know how we were talking about stuff bothering us?”

“Cameron—” The second time Cameron had ever heard Elliot say his name. It was so sweet a moment, the way Elliot said it, but he wasn’t going to let that falter him.

“What’s bothering you?”

“None of your business, that’s what.” When Cameron wouldn’t budge, Elliot went to roughly brush past him, but Cameron grabbed his arm and didn’t let him get away, despite the struggle and the way Elliot glared at him through narrowed, fearful eyes. Cameron couldn’t let him go. This was important, he just knew it was. He had to ask. The words needed to be said. To end his curiosity, his weeks of troubled sleep and doubt. He just couldn’t leave well-enough alone when it felt so goddamned important.

“Elliot. Do you like me?” His own cheeks heated when he finally forced the words out, but unlike the movie theatre, there was no darkness to hide the blush. It was out there, in the open, and he knew Elliot could see it now. Elliot’s eyes widened and his mouth fell open, unable to form a proper response.

“W—What?”

Cameron could tell that Elliot had meant for it to sound outraged, but he’d only sounded vulnerable, caught red-handed. Cameron’s heart did a back flip. His hands itched to pull more of the curtain back.  Just little more.

“So you do?” he rushed out in one breath, the hand gripping Elliot’s arm trembling. “You really do?” It seemed too surreal, like in his dreams, only so much better. You always looked at me separate from the rest of the world. Or so I thought. Have things really changed?

“Stop it.” There was no doubt about it now. There was fear that laced in Elliot’s stern voice. “You’re being weird.”

“Elliot, you’re not answering.” He wanted to hear it. Implications weren’t enough. Cameron needed to hear it. “You like me?” The situation slowly registered to him while Elliot visibly fought for an appropriate response that would no doubt admit to nothing, but it was too late for denial. Cameron eyed the slightest hint of a blush on Elliot’s cheeks, eyed Elliot’s lips as they moved, struggling for answers. Cameron licked his dry lips and wondered if Elliot’s lips were like the ones in his dreams. It seemed as though the last few weeks had been building up to this moment. He realized that he wanted to find out, wanted to satisfy this curiosity.

His body was already moving, hands rising. They cupped Elliot’s face, warm and soft in the palm of his hands. Surreal, but at the same time too real. He could hear Elliot’s breath catch in his throat and Cameron almost smiled when he realized that he’d stopped breathing, too. He closed his eyes and moved forward, meeting the warm flesh he’d dreamt of. And they tasted so much sweeter, felt so much better. The gentle pressure, the soft firmness. He wanted more.

The next thing he knew he was knocked backwards, stumbling from the force of the impact. Cameron’s eyes shot open, dazed, and he blinked wildly as if slowly waking up to reality. When he was finally awake and able to process things, he spotted Elliot already halfway across the parking lot.

“Elliot! Wait a second!” Cameron stumbled after him, tripping a bit over his own feet. He couldn’t let Elliot leave. Not like this. Not when he could still taste him on his lips, still feel him as if he were still there against him. But Elliot was already in his car, it was too late now. The navy blue car pulled out of the parking lot and was already blending in with the coming and going traffic. A sense of dread heavier than concrete fell to the bottom of Cameron’s stomach. The giddy excitement from just moments ago distorting into something else; something worse. Panic.

“…I think I’m going to be sick…”


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To Be Continued