Passing Looks and Disappointed Faces

"Oh, man. You think this is a dream? I'm sorry but you ain't seen nothing yet." He looked away with what seemed to be embarrassment on his features and, without thinking, I leaned over to ruffle his hair; it was as soft as it had looked. He turned back to look at me, a smirk growing on his lips as he pushed back the black locks that had fallen into his eyes.

"Wait," he suddenly said, narrowing his eyes in what seemed to be suspicion; I've got no idea what suspicious ideas could be floating around his head when we had just met. "Where are your CDs?" I burst out laughing.

"You really want to delve into my piles of utter music?'

"Of course."

"Okay then," I shrugged, walking over to my closet, wrenching open the wooden door. Littering the floor in stacks, piles and assorted tumbled heaps were CDs upon CDs. Everything from those crappy little children's educational CDs I had used to listen to when I was a kid to the heaviest of heavy I listened to now were strewn on that floor. It was a miracle I could find one disc at any given moment. I swear, his eyes turned the size of half-dollars, his mouth agape again. I wanted to shut it but not with my hand. God, I needed to stop thinking like this; I just met him like, ten minutes ago or something.

"Holy shit," he finally said, dropping to his knees in front of the truckload of discs, thumbing over the titles reverently. "How'd you manage to get so many?"

"Years and years of collecting, my friend," I responded, throwing myself down beside him with a grunt.

"No way!" he suddenly shrieked, pulling a 7" vinyl from the back of the closet, a look of utter happiness on his face. "You've got Ava Adore in 7 inch in mint condition? Fuck, dude, do you know how much this costs now?" Lightly, he traced the edges, a look of veneration on his face.

"Yeah. Wanna borrow it sometime?" I don't know why I offered it; for all I knew he was a thief and would steal everything I owned.

"Are you fucking serious?" He turned to me, his eyes shining brightly again.

"Of course," I responded. He launched himself at me with abandon, placing a sloppy kiss on my cheek, bringing me down to the ground. He couldn't speak, still feasting his eyes upon the vinyl, his hands shaking slightly. I began chuckling, though we were certainly in a strange predicament. After all, he was basically sprawled on top of me, the vinyl in his hands, and his lips mere centimeters from my cheek still, my body pressed flat against the floor. Strangely, though, I was incredibly comfortable, not to mention warm.

"Whoa, Gee; you certainly don't waste any time." There was a desperate struggle between the both of us to get up and away from each other at the voice. I missed the warmth, though, almost immediately. From the corner of my eye I could see his cheeks flushed a dark red, his fingers still stroking the edges of the case softly.

"Why'd you guys have to interrupt?" I whined sarcastically, "We were just about to fuck each other's brains out."

"Okay, Gee. Could you please leave the comments for when I'm not around?"

"Aw, does it gross out my little brother to hear about my glorious sex life?" I honestly didn't have a sex life at the moment; not like I ever had one in the first place. I had gotten close once but it just didn't count because we hadn't done anything. I had figured out I was gay at that precise moment; it really was a mood-killer. With groans and moans of how insensitive I was, my brother walked out, storming up the stairs. I shrugged, turning to face Frank. He was shaking quietly; his eyes narrowed slightly, his cheeks still flushed. "You okay?" I asked quietly, low enough so that Bob and Ray, who were both immersed in some inane conversation, wouldn't hear.

Forcing a smile, he nodded before looking back down to poke his shoelace into the carpet. "I'm fine," he squeaked out before clearing his throat, closing his eyes briefly.

"Why are you guys back so soon anyways?" I asked curiously, turning my attention away from the boy to my long-time friends. They both looked at each other with a knowing glance and a scowl.

"It was fucking closed; could you believe that?" Ray said, obviously indignant at the fact. I chuckled, though my mind was on Frank; he didn't seem to be okay.

"Hey, um, guys; where's the bathroom?" he suddenly piped up; he looked uncomfortable, his cheeks still tinged even after all this time.

"C'mon; I'll show you," I murmured, getting up and offering my hand. It was no trouble at all pulling him up; he was so lightweight I nearly made him jump into the air. It was amazing. I led him away, leaving Bob and Ray though, again, it was rather rude of me. Screw them, though; I wanted to make sure Frank was perfectly alright.

"Wait," he suddenly said, pushing out a hand to stop me, closing his eyes for a moment, his lips parted as he breathed heavily.

"Whoa; okay. Are you alright?" I asked. He certainly didn't look okay.

"I'm okay," he muttered, a strained smile on his lips now. When he noticed the disbelieving looks I gave him, he added, "I promise; trust me." I nodded, taking a tentative step forward; he followed with barely any hesitation. Noting he could continue moving, I continued on my way upstairs, my hands situated at his left hip and right shoulder. Sure, it was awkward and slightly uncomfortable but at least this way I was sure he wouldn't slip backwards and fall down the stairs. I paused at the landing, checking him to see if he was okay. He had closed his eyes again, a single drop of sweat trickling down the side of his face. He certainly wasn't okay but I was sure that I couldn't tell him a thing more; once again there exists this entire issue of "I just met him".

When he opened his eyes, I began walking again for a few more yards, finally reaching the bathroom. He pushed me away softly and I could only stare as he closed the door in my face. Confused, with worry still riddling my system, I walked into the kitchen, meeting with my very own brother. "What do you know about that Frank kid?" I asked, seating myself at one of the stools, looking over at him like a goddamned secret agent. I even grabbed a toothpick, placing it between my lips, chewing the end softly, cocking an eyebrow. I swear, sometimes I'm just insane.

As if on cue, Mikey turned around, placing a glass of water in front of me, wiping down the counter with a relatively clean rag we always had hanging next to the dishwasher. I ruined the moment though, laughing my head off at how perfectly it all played out. My brother shot me a strange look, setting the rag aside to answer me, "I don't really know much about him. Really, the most I know about him is what I've noticed from music and even that's not much."

"How do you barely notice anything?" I moaned, grabbing the glass of water and taking a sip. "He's got a Misfits shirt on and you don't take notice in that?" He took back the glass of water, mumbling about how I always take things that aren't mine. I shrug, seeing as I don't
really care about that.

"Listen Gee, in case you've forgotten in those years you've been away- even though you see me every morning before I go to school- we wear uniforms. How the hell am I supposed to know he likes all those bands? Besides, you know how I am when I've got a bass in my hands; I barely notice anything that's going on. The only thing I always notice is when the bell rings and that's because it scares the shit out of me." I frowned; this was definitely not the kind of information I wanted; I already knew all this anyways. Mikey sighed, rolling his eyes and taking a large gulp of the cool water. "Why are you so interested in him anyways?"

"Because I am," I muttered, stating it as though it were a very obvious thing. "Now, come on Mikes, tell me what you know."

"He's almost always late, I remember that much. He doesn't talk much; he just goes into some corner or sits at some chair and strums away the day. I never pay attention to what anyone plays; some people have really crappy taste in music. Oh! I do remember one time when he started playing the intro to Today (I hadn't grabbed my bass yet, see) and then he switched to Lullaby, you know, by the Cure? Then, in the middle of the goddamned song, he switched to Boys Don't Cry and then he started playing something I didn't know-"

I decided to cut him off, "Why didn't you just talk to him right then?"

"Because I wanted to play my bass!" This time it was he who was stating stuff as if they were the most obvious things in the world. I pouted, getting up from my stool and pretending to tip a hat, though I obviously didn't have one on. He rolled his eyes, chugging the last of his water as if his life depended on it before he began wiping down the counter again with unmatched fervor.

"You're insane, you know that Gee?"

"You know you love me either way!" I shouted back at him, not bothering to look at him again as I left the room, leaving him alone at the counter. I swear I'm insane.