Cemetery boy

Brendon does a half hearted smile, “Queue the kicking and screaming...”

I couldn’t find the words to reply. I part of me wants to run, not away from him just...away from everything-- wishing to the guy with a beard sitting on the cloud that he’d give me a break and let me live a normal life. Instead, I had to fall for Death...thanks God, no really...thanks.

He looked at me intently, expecting some sort of huge reaction, for me to throw something at him, calling him unnatural....or something dramatic along those lines.

Instead I find myself saying, “I don’t care,” And take a step towards him.

It’s funny now that I think about it. That I was so terrified of what he might be and he was so scared of me finding out. I wasn’t in the least bit scared that I was looking Death in the face...because all I saw was Brendon.

He looked at me in confusion, “What?”

“I don’t see why this means we can’t...be together.” God I sound like such a wanker.
I grab his hand like the sad fuck I am, “Come on,” I say while gesturing towards my house and tug him along besides me. He looks surprised more than anything else, but deep in his eyes I can see what I’m looking for: desire.

I can feel my lips pull into an almost predatory smile as I open my front door. Inside it’s dark, but I don’t need light for what I’m planning to do. Once we’re both inside I kick the door closed with my foot. Now I had him to myself .I link my hands around his neck and pull myself to his lips (...why do I have to be so short?).

I can feel his chest rise and fall as I kiss him; he was still for a moment before responding and pressed his body against mine. His body was so warm it was intoxicating. He pulls away for a second.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” He says, yet makes no move to stop me.

I smile and I kiss him again, to win him back and make him forget everything. I wanted everything in his life to become a blur: for him to see one thing...me. I wanted to make him question his own existence; I wanted to make him see life and death in one blow. Brendon was going to see Heaven and Hell. I kissed him harder.

I could feel his back muscles loosen and contract as we grasped for more of each other’s skin, he broke away for a second to whisper my name, and I could feel a shiver run through my body, pressing me further into him. I felt as though my body was about to melt and shatter, burst into flames, something so dramatic and impossible that neither of us would never be able to regain our breaths.

Instead I got: “Ryan?” That, most defiantly was not Brendon’s voice.

We both freeze. His lips against my neck and eyes locked with the person behind me that had just said my name. I detached my lips from Brendon. I couldn’t seem to get me head walking....working? Straight.

I turn around slowly.

My dad was standing in the kitchen doorway, casually watching us making out...and he looked scared of all things. Terrified by the fact that his son was with a remarkably sexy guy that also happened to be Death, not that he knew that though. I roll my shoulders and glare at him: he moves back into the darkness of the kitchen slowly, skulking like some wounded beast that had lost all he owned. He’d have an opinion about this later...I already knew that, but for just an hour or two I’d force myself to think only of the present.

I didn’t dwell on Brendon’s scared expression, I drag him upstairs to my bedroom—where not only the day before I’d swore never to take him, but the place I wanted him the most anyways.

“Um...what about your dad?” Brendon sounded terrified that he’d come bursting in at any moment.

“He won’t be bothering us.” I say with a definite smile. Brendon didn’t seem satisfied.

“Look,” He says and stops me, “I just....I’ve never, ever...done anything of this um, sort--”

“Are you trying to tell me that you’ve lived for all eternity and you’ve never fucked anyone?” Brendon blushed and I let out a burst of laughter, “Relax!”

I whispered softly and pulled him towards my bed. I pulled him into my arms trying to calm him down....somehow, he couldn’t get his breathing even.

“What’s the matter?”

“This is wrong. You have no idea just how wrong what I feel for you is.” I smile as I press my lips against his hair.

“How is it wrong?”

“Because I live for eternity...and you only live for a few seconds.”

Oh. I understand now. He’d forget me after a few hundred years or so. I’d just be the boy who took his V card.

“Ryan you’re hurting me,” I loosen my grip around him. I must have sub consciously pulled him closer to me.

“Sorry…” I mutter automatically and begin to get up.

“I’m not really in the mood for....” Not really in the mood to do anything now, “Sorry.... I think I put a wet blanket on the whole situation.”

I give a shrug and tell him it’s fine, I tell him I don’t have a problem with him banging me until I’m thirty since I plan on dying young...can’t bear to think of myself with wrinkles. I reach for the cigarettes: I gesture to Brendon, wondering whether or not he wanted a fag.

He shook his head, “I’ve noticed something.” He says suddenly, “You only smoke when you’re nervous or worried about something.” I roll my eyes, there he was again...analyzing me, “So you’re thinking about how I live for eternity...and how you.--”

“Don’t.” I surprise myself with the amount of venom I slip into that, guess I’m afraid of dying then....guess I’m afraid of Death.

Brendon was silent momentarily, “That gives us two choices: either you could die for me...or I could live for you”

What? What an earth did he mean by that? I was about to ask him when his watch started flashing. Brendon looked at it before muttering quickly, “I have to go.”

“What? Has someone died or something?” Brendon gives me a very serious expression, I don’t think he liked me making smart ass jokes about his job, “Just head towards the light and hope that all the blow jobs you gave Sophomore year won’t wreck your chances.”

As if reading my mind Brendon says, “You suck.”

I gave a lopsided grin, “We’ll see.”

Brendon stares at me before mirroring my smile, “Yes...you shall see."

And with that he vanishes; as if he were just fragment of my imagination that had just died. And I was left alone in my room smiling at something that was no longer there.