For Never

So it happened, one night. They were nineteen and they were drunk, as nineteen year old boys often are. They were also alone; Mike had to go find his little sister after she’d run off again. It was beer, silence and the evening air and of course, the two of them. Beer often leads to drunken babble and it did do so. They talked about all sorts of things. They discussed vegetables, and then ice cream, and then girls, and then boys. And inevitably, the topic turned to the two of them. In their inebriated state, the things that were unsaid for more than two years were surfacing.

“You’re lucky,” Tre slurred to Billie. “You’re real lucky you got Mike.”

Billie nodded enthusiastically. “I love him.” The words came out incoherently, but Tre understood them. “I fucking love him,” he said with conviction. It was true.

Tre was quiet. For a very long time, neither of them said anything. Billie knew what he wanted to say, but his brain was having trouble processing it.

Then, Tre spoke. “I love Mike too!” he declared.

Billie, caught off guard, simply stared at him. He found that he liked it, staring at Tre, simply looking at Tre.

“He’s like the best brother I ever had!” Tre continued, becoming progressively louder and more obnoxious. And for some reason, Billie Joe burst out into a fit of giggles. “Is something funny, Armstrong?”

Billie shook his head, still laughing.

“I love Mike!!” Tre stood up and smashed an empty bottle against a wall. “Oops. But I still love Mike!”

Billie stopped laughing, eventually. Tre looked down at him. They were both thinking the same thing and they knew it. What about me? Do you love me?

The older boy answered it for the first time. “I love you Tre,” he said quietly. “I fucking love you,” he almost whispered.

Tre bent over to kiss Billie. There was nothing to stop him this time—no inhibition, no guilt or pain. They would come in the morning, but right then and there, there was only desire, intuition telling them what felt right.

And when Billie’s lips met Tre’s, it felt right. Oh, somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew it was wrong, he knew he was breaking Mike, but it was only in the back of his mind. What he knew didn’t matter; it was only his feelings that surfaced after being repressed and held under lock and key for years. Now was right. This was right.

Billie’s hand ran through his friend’s ginger hair. Tre sighed into the kiss, parting his lips more, wanting more. He did a lot of stupid things, and he knew that this was potentially the stupidest thing he’d ever done, but like Mike, he was a teenager in love and he would stay that way. What they had at this moment, this kiss, it wasn’t electric – it was magnetic, it was inevitable. They let go of each other only for breath, when Tre said, “I love you too.” His voice was hoarse, weak, still unsure, but the words were certain enough.

They didn’t kiss again. Instead, they sat there absorbing everything: each other, the moment, the stars, the last few years, memories, friendship, and the midnight air. Billie inched his hand and placed it on top of Tre’s. Smiling, the younger boy held it in his own fingers, appreciating for a moment how delicate Billie’s fingers looked.

It was in this unthinking bliss that Billie’s older sister Annie found them, running towards them with a flashlight and her ponytail flapping behind her. “Billie!” came the annoyed twenty-two year old’s voice. “God, I can’t believe you’re still sitting here! Are you waiting for Mike? Because he went home hours ago! Mom is so mad!” She went on like this for a few more seconds before realizing that her younger brother was barely registering her words. He had looked at her initially, but now, Billie’s gaze was fixed on Tre. Sisters were boring. And annoying.

“Hey! Earth to Bill!” she tried again, waving the flashlight around. The light allowed her a glimpse of the bottles strewn about. “Shit! Are you drunk? God, Mom is going to kill you!”

Billie looked at her and Tre followed his eyes.

“Get up, you loser!” Enunciating on the last word, Billie’s sister pulled him up by the arm. “Do you even know what time it is?”

Billie, still inebriated, looked at his empty wrist and said “Maybe.”

“Other wrist,” Tre sniggered as an indignant Annie led the two home, screeching and preaching all the while. Not they listened, of course. They followed behind her, holding hands, smiling at each other. For one night, they were either unaware of reality or just pretended to be. Either way, wishes came true that night. When they finally parted ways, they continued to smile, pulling their hands away softly and letting their gazes rest on each other. To Annie’s disgust and further annoyance, Billie planted a single sweet kiss on Tre’s cheek before turning towards his house. At that moment in time, they were indistinguishable from a pair of high school sweethearts on their first date.

But it was also their last date.

Morning came and they both slept right through it. Billie woke up around noon to find Mike in the corner near his closet, fiddling with his guitar. He smiled.

“Hey,” Mike looked up. “Hung over?”

Billie nodded, rubbing his eyes groggily. Faint memories of last night flashed through his mind. The peace he had felt settled over him for a second before it was replaced by an unrest more terrible and choking than anything he’d ever thought possible.

Tre woke up even later, just as hung over as Billie, but a blanket of serenity had settled over him. There wouldn’t be any more anguished days or hopelessly clichéd sleepless and frustrated nights. He wouldn’t have to see Billie in pain anymore, he thought, because in the afterglow of the kiss, he had forgotten about Mike. He opened his eyes to the afternoon and all he remembered was being with Billie; it wasn’t just a dream this time. He walked out the door while still pulling his shirt on; he wanted to see Billie.

The moment when Tre burst into the room haunted the star-crossed pair for ages. Mike was sitting up against the wall and Billie was lying back in his arms, playing random notes and silly tunes. Tre was at the door, confused and the look that he exchanged with Billie was all he needed. It was forbidding. It was apologetic. It was desperately begging him to stay silent. So he did.