Nephilim

“Wow, you came. And I thought you were chicken shit.” Ryan turned the corner with a smile already on his face, his words reminding Brendon why he was in front of Ryan’s locker in the first place.

Brendon twisted swiftly, gripping Ryan’s collar and slamming him into the set of lockers he had been leaning against. He had moved as quickly as he could, but Ryan still had found time to raise his arms up against his chest in defense. The first emotion to cross Ryan’s face was confusion, then fear. Shortly after, there was a wave of pain splashing on his features.

“Jesus fucking Christ, man, what the fuck was that for!” Ryan moved slowly, spitting out the words in a hiss of agony. He really might have hurt him, Brendon realized. He tried to guise his momentary worry with the anger he had stored.

“I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, writing me some shitty-ass love note, but that was fucked up. I wanted to let that whole scene in the classroom slide, but this shit is freaking me out, so quit it now.” Brendon kept his voice low and his mouth close to Ryan’s face. He wanted his breath to be fire; he wanted to see his expressions burn. He hoped his eyes were the daggers he had prayed for.

But Ryan only smiled again, the hurt still lingering in his eyes. “Jeez, Brendon, where did all of this come from? You weren’t exactly kicking and screaming with my tongue down your throat or my hand on your ass.” He let a chuckle slide out, and the glow of sudden pain in his eyes started to fade. “For a second there, I thought you were gonna sock me, just like old times. You were always one hyper son-of-a-bitch.”

Noticing that his words were forced and choking, Brendon lessened his grip on his shirt, releasing a now sweat-wrinkled knot of cloth from his tightened fist. “I wanted to. I really did. Listen,” Brendon let go completely and backed away unsteadily. Ryan gasped for air. “I don’t know what happened in the classroom. But I was scared, okay? Fucking freaked out. You...” he paused and swallowed. His mouth had gone dry. “You’re my best friend, Ryan.”

“I know,” Ryan panted, hand on his chest. “I know, man.”

“And...and I don’t want this sort of shit happening to us.”

“Really?” Ryan’s breathing began to regulate. “What sort of shit?”

“I...what?” Brendon had to stop his running train of thought. “What’d you say?”

“What sort of shit is happening,” he held up two fingers on each hand, signifying quotation marks. “‘to us’?”

“Ryan, you...” Brendon swallowed again. Nothing. “You...you kissed me.” His lips had gone dry as well, but he did not want to lick them. He felt dirty thinking about what had happened. Their tongues...crossing. Touching. “You kissed me hard.”

“Yeah.” Ryan shrugged. “So?”

“Friends...” He started, but shook his head and corrected himself. “Guys don’t do that.”

“We did.”

“I don’t want this, okay? That’s all I’m trying to say. I’ve...we’ve got our studies now. We don’t need to think about shit like this. I just want to be normal again.” Brendon felt his chest get tighter. “All I want is for things to be normal again. This whole kiss thing...No, I just want it to stop. It never happened, okay?”

Ryan sighed and turned his head away. “Glad to see you were so interested in what I asked you here for.”

“I thought...” Brendon felt his tongue begin to coat itself in a layer of dust. It felt unused. Old. Dead. “I really thought you were gonna try and put a move on me.” He laughed just to shake away the shivers he felt coming. He pushed his glasses up the slope of his nose with his middle and forefinger.

“Nah, man.” Ryan shook his head.

“You, uh,” he cleared his throat, but ended up coughing. His mouth felt so empty. “You scared me today. With the kiss and your hand and all.”

“Sorry.”

“Why’d you do it then?”

Ryan shrugged again. “I just wanted to see how it felt.”

“How did it-”

“Okay, I guess.”

“Oh...” Brendon looked away. “So, what did you want to see me for?”

Ryan was averting his gaze as well. He was scanning the concrete pavement, as if searching for something. An answer, maybe? His face was one similar to man who had to change his plans. “I wanted to see if you wanted to hang tomorrow after school.”

Brendon shifted his hands into his pockets, a little startled. That was all? He had wanted to cry and vomit and scream because of this? “Um, I might have to study.”

“Yeah, but do you want to?”

“Sure, I mean, I guess. If I don’t have anything else to-”

“See you tomorrow then. A half hour after school.” Ryan spread his hand over the place Brendon had grabbed him. It was no use; the wrinkles stayed perfectly in place. He straightened the strap of his knapsack over it, covering a little of it. He began to walk away.

“I guess I’ll see you.” Brendon raised a hand in a wave, though he knew Ryan was in no position to see it.

“Come alone.” Ryan kicked the phrase back over his shoulder as he left.

And that was it. He said nothing more.