How the Scene Plays

Author’s Note: The tense change is sort of intentional. Just so you know. It could be changed rather easily though, so let me know what you think about it.

How the Scene Plays

“Oh my god –I was so worried! Where have you been?” His voice sent chills. I hated that I had made him worry. I hated that note of fear in his voice.
“I’m sorry. I was going to call, but my phone was almost dead and I didn’t want to waste a call if I really needed to make one later,” I kissed his lips. “Are you mad?”
“You scared me. You know that I hate it when you insist on driving in this shitty weather.”
“Well, I can’t very well quit my job, Love.” I wrapped my arms around his waist. “I’m here now, so just relax okay? You’re always so tense.”
He sighed, wrapping his arms around me too and resting his head on my shoulder.
“Let me take care of you –just for a couple of hours?”
I smiled, “Take care of me?”
“Uh huh. For starters, lets’ get you out of these wet clothes. You’re going to catch a cold.” His fingers undid my belt and probed under the waistband of my khaki work pants, pushing them over my hips.
“Hey! Not in the living room!” I protested, swatting his hands away. “Cripes, you’re so…handsy!”
“Come upstairs then,” He suggested. His lips were soft against mine, sweet. “We’ll get naked and take a how shower together.”
“Tempting, but I never seem to get clean after a shower with you.” I teased.
“Getting dirty is half the fun,” He scoffed. “What do you say?”
“I dunno…I have laundry and schoolwork to finish. I don’t really have time—”
“You should make time to fool around. I’ll do your laundry for you tomorrow while you’re at work, and I’ll help you out with the school stuff when you get done.”
“Hmmm…You are infuriating, aren’t you? But sort of sweet. You just want to have sex.”
“Well, that’s part of it, but we don’t have to. If you don’t want to, just take a shower and crawl into bed. That would be okay too. I just want to be close to you… You scared me today. You were nearly an hour late, no phone call, no texts. None of your friends or even your Mom had heard from you.” He sighed heavily, hiding his face against my neck again. “I want you close. Where I know you’re OK.”
“Drama Queen!” I teased.
“Shut up. You’re so mean to me. You don’t have any horror stories from your journey for me, do you?”
“Err…not that you want to hear!” I smiled. Then I laughed when he grumbled deep down in his throat at me. He lifted his head.
“C’mon, lets go shower.”

The hot water felt good –rinsing away the day’s layer of grime and worry. I had managed to send him to the bedroom so I could spend a few relaxed minutes alone. I could hear him through the rhythmic pounding of the water, and the thin walls, putzing around in the bedroom. He was probably laying out clothes for me then. The short black shorts along with the one-size-too-small grey tank top that had a habit of riding up over my stomach while I slept. He likes me to wear these things, though I’m not sure why. Maybe he thinks that they make me sexy, but I don’t think so. If he thought I would go along with it, he’d ask me to sleep nude with him, but I won’t. I’m too self-conscious.
“Babe, are you almost done?” The voice came after a short knock and the creak of the door opening.
“Just gotta shave. Give me a few more minutes. Cripes.” I wasn’t really annoyed with him, but I let him think that I was.

In the bedroom, he played the voyeur while I got dressed. Then he gots up, taking the towel from me and scrubs my hair roughly with it. I laughed, tolerating the brutality for a minute before I yanked the towel away.
“Too rough,” I chided.
“My bad,” he shruged.

He follows me around like a puppy who wants to play while I throw my laundry into a basket and lug it down to our unfinished basement to load it into the washer. He helps me sort it out, teasing me about my underwear and adding just a little too much fabric softener to the load.
“Okay –laundry is done. What’s next?”
A glance at the clock and I give in to him. We go back upstairs for half an hour of play time. Afterwards, we’re only half-dressed, our bodies still warm and pressing lightly together with the sheets pulled around us. His breath is warm on my neck and I feel like I could stay in this bed forever. We hear the buzzer on the washer go off, even all of the way upstairs and I sigh. Back to business.
“Stay.” He pulls me back before scooting out of bed, pulling his boxers over his hips. I watch him move around the bed, listening for the sound of his footsteps once he’s out of sight. He’s gone for about fifteen minutes, and I get out of bed once to pull my clothes back on and turn up the heat a couple of notches before crawling back into bed.
“Clothes are in the dryer,” He kisses me as he crawls back into bed. “Hey –why’d you get dressed?”
I laugh at him again, “I still have work to do. Don’t worry, we can la here for a few more minutes.”
He sighs, sounding annoyed, “Fine.”
I curl up with my head against his chest and close my eyes.
Then without warning, I shift to sleep.

The next morning sends curses through the apartment. He tries to quiet me, but I still can’t help but be mad at myself. While I had actually gotten some decent sleep for once, my paper had continued to go unwritten and now it was Sunday Morning, with the prospect of work still looming.
“I told you I’d help you with it,” He reminds me.
I feel warm all of a sudden and I move to the thermostat to turn the heat down a few notches.
“You know that isn’t the problem.”
“Then what is?”
“I’m becoming to attached to you.” I turn to look at him and I recognize the expression of confused hurt on his face.
“What are you talking about?”
I sigh. It had gone on too long, this romance between the two of us.
“Did he ever tell you why we broke up?” We both knew who “he” was. My ex. His best friend and former roommate. We had met through him and gone out a few times behind his back when he still lived here before we decided to make a go of it.
“Not really, just that you grew apart. We’ve only been dating for a couple of months, babe. You can’t tell me we’re already growing apart!”
“That’s…that’s not what happened.” I sigh again. “I don’t like getting dependant on someone. I don’t like feeling this…this way.”
“What way? I don’t understand a thing you’re saying!”
“I don’t like feeling like I need you.”
“You don’t like the feeling of being in love, is that what you’re trying to say?”
I shrug, “Maybe that’s what it is. I don’t know…I’ve just never felt comfortable getting so close to someone. It’s like, it closes options to me.”
“What kind of options?”
I purse my lips for a moment, “You know when you start going out with someone, and it’s fun and care free, and then you get closer and closer to the person, so you start spending nights together, and then weekends, and you end up moving in together. Then suddenly you start talking about getting married, and having kids, and it’s like you’re completely tied to this person with no other life prospect ahead of you except this one person and this one life and there is no getting out of it unless you totally uproot the entire process.”
“Babe…” He shakes his head. “You can’t be afraid of life. That’s what happens –people fall in love, get married, have kids, grow old together.”
“But maybe I don’t want to do that!” I counter. “I want to have that option to leave you!”
“Why do you want to leave me?” He looks hurt again –the same look of hurt that I had seen on other boyfriends faces when I told them I couldn’t continue to see them. The same look of hurt that came when I told them that we were too close.
“I don’t want to! I want to have the option to!”
“Babe…you always have the option to leave me. I don’t want you to leave me, but…you can walk away from me any time you want. We can get closer, we can get married, we can have a family, and you can walk away if that’s what you need to do. But you can come back when you’re ready.”
“What if we do that –what if we stay together, and I walk. What happens to you then? What happens to our kids?”
“Babe, we don’t even have any kids.”
“Hypothetically, asshole,” I sneer.
“Then I’d take care of them until you came back.”
“And if I never came back? If I just left you with a couple of babies to raise on your own.”
“I’d have faith in you, and that would keep me going.” He pulled me into his arms. “This conversation is too serious –we’re only twenty, babe. We’ve got plenty of time before we’ve got to talk about a future together.”
His smell was intoxicating as he pressed his face against my neck, his lips brushing my throat. His fingers are cool as they move underneath the hem of my t-shirt. His arms are tight around my waist and he picks me up effortlessly a few inches off of the ground.
“Tell me you’re not leaving me.” He requests.
“I have to leave –I have to work in half an hour.”
“You know what I mean, smart ass.”
I smile, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, “No, I’m not leaving you. Not yet.”
“Promise me something.” He says, dropping me back to the floor.
“Yes?”
“When you do leave me…give me fair warning.”
I nod, “Can do, Love.”

No Pain, No Gain (CW NonFiction)

No Pain, No Gain

The parlor’s employees and patrons were intimidating the first time I stepped through the doors. I’d always thought I was the kind of person not to take someone at face value, but seeing these heavily pierced and tattooed persons actually scared me. I was rather nervous, clutching my purse to my side – in which tucked inside was the picture of my number one comic book hero in a pose I wanted slightly altered to fit on the back of my leg. It was the perfect spot to fit her entire being and the power that I always thought seemed to illuminate from her.
“Can I help you with something?” It was obvious to Jack and the other artists at the front desk of the shop that my sisters and I stuck out like sore thumbs in this house of body-art and rebellion.
“Uh, yeah. I wanted to know about getting this on the back of my leg. How much it would cost, that kind of a thing,” I fumbled around in my purse with extremely shaky hands for the carefully folded cover-printout of the 192nd issue of X-Men (2nd Series), published in December of 2006. The cover featured Rogue, my favorite X-Men, in a rendition of her original, 1980’s era-green-caped costume done by Chris Bachalo. “I went on to describe how I wanted to change it –in particular taking the syringe out of her hand that she was (I assumed) about to use on Sabretooth, whose head she was standing on.
“And what about these people in the back, did you still want them there, or just her?”
“No, no…just her, and the chain, and the fire coming around her,” I motioned on the picture to what I was talking about.
Jack launched into a spiel about some French painter, and talked about a lot of artsy things about movement and shape that I didn’t understand –I’m not a painter, I wanted to say, I’m a writer! I have no idea what you’re saying! But I nodded along as though I understood completely what he was talking about. Everyone in the shop was ecstatic about it. All of them were comic book fans and a few of them even seeming a little jealous of Jack, who was in line to be my artist, but glad that I walked into their shop to see about doing such a great tattoo.
I took a quick look at Jack’s book, which he walked me through personally, trying hard to point out good pieces that he had done, a lot of which were cartoon-based in nature. I knew that Jack would be the one to do this tattoo for me after looking at other pieces he had done, but my sisters and I left the shop, promising to come back if I didn’t find what I was looking for elsewhere.
We went to another shop across town called Mid-West Tattoos, the only other one we could actually find in the city. Many of the ones on my list of parlors in the area had closed or disappeared to a new unknown location, making finding them hard. The people at the second shop were nice, I was sure, but looking through their albums, my sisters and I decided that their work was lacking something. They didn’t seem as excited about doing it as Jack and the team at Artisan’s had.
It also made me uncomfortable that the artist I initially talked to here, offered to let me come in back and watch him tattoo another patron before even asking if it was OK with the patron first. It also bothered me that, unlike Jack, this artist didn’t offer me any ideas to make it better. He simply took a glance at the photo, said, “Sure, we can do that for about $350-$400” and was ready to do it. He also didn’t seem pleased that I mentioned I had gone to Artisan’s first and Jack was offering to do it for me at a discounted price of $260 –drastically below any of the other estimated costs I had heard.
The only thing that made the trip to Mid-West worthwhile was what one of the more burly artists had to say to me upon taking a look at what I wanted; “Well, that’s not a butterfly.” His obvious distaste for the feminine butterfly that most girls who came in were looking for was apparent in his voice and the way that he leaned over the printout of Rogue. “That’s going to look really cool.” He was impressed that it was going to be my first tattoo, being that it was quite large for a first-timer, covering almost the whole back of my leg. I had decided a long time ago that if I was going to get a tattoo, it was going to be big the first time. Why wimp-out and get something little and dainty? If I couldn’t handle getting something of this size, then I probably didn’t need it at all.
My sisters and I went back to Artisans and set up an appointment with Jack about an hour and a half-later. I put down my $25 dollar deposit and walked out with a date for about a month later, just before Christmas.
The month passed by slowly. Some days I even forgot about it, but then I would take a glance at the mirror where I had posted the date in erasable marker –so to be sure not to forget it, and immense excitement would fill me again. Finally, Finals Week of my first semester of college came and went. I was back in Artisan’s tattoo parlor, my sweat pant leg rolled up past the back of my knee, and a blue outline of my concept on the back of my leg. My sisters were sitting in chairs off to the side, trying to stay out of the way, as Jack pulled on gloves, tested his machine, and poured inks into tiny caps.
I rested my head on my arms, staring around the room, trying not to think about what it would feel like when the needle would start pulsating against my skin. Rogue looked gorgeous, even as an outline. Over the last month, I had debated a few times on whether I should actually go through with this. I worried about my future self; how I would feel about having this entity on the back of my leg for the rest of my life. She was hide-able, I decided. Besides, the reason I wanted her wasn’t because she was a comic book character. It was because she was gorgeous, strong, talented, and my hero. She had always been my favorite comic book character –the one who can’t touch people for risk of hurting them, the one who struggles with herself every day because she wants things that she can’t have. I felt a connection to her, not because of her power, but because of her strong sense of family, her desires, the risks she was willing to take to help people. I wanted to be like her and I wanted homage to her greatness.
“I’ll just do a couple of lines to start out with to let you get a feel for what it’s going to be like, and then we’ll really get started.” Jack took a moment to let me calm down before leaning over my leg, starting somewhere near the bottom.
The actual laying on the chair and repeatedly being stabbed was actually rather boring. People often ask me what it feels like, and “didn’t that hurt?” Well, of course it hurt, you idiot. It is a tattoo. But honestly, it wasn’t that bad. After an hour or so in the chair, it felt a lot like a cat scratch –long, and searing. Really the most entertaining part of it, besides listening to my sisters and my random spouting of obscenities, was the parlor’s employees (and even one or two patrons) entering the backroom to watch Jack work, uttering words like, “Fuckin’ sweet, man”, and “That looks so cool,” over and over again.
At the end of the first sitting, nearly four hours later, the outline and black shading were finished. I walked out, my leg covered in a layer of petroleum jelly, wrapped in saran wrap and medical tape. A list of care-instructions was folded neatly in my purse along with fifteen dollars for supplies, and an appointment to put in the color and final additions in two weeks.
The aftercare was actually the worst part. My leg was pretty sore for the first couple of days after getting it done, but I hobbled my way around the house, suddenly glad for the tiny cement shower in the mud-room that had been the bane of my childhood. It was the perfect size with an extendable showerhead, to wash an otherwise awkward area without getting completely drenched in the process, three times a day. Once a tattoo is in the healing process, it actually begins to peel, which makes you itch like crazy, but of course actually scratching it would ruin the art, so I had to suffer in silence. It also didn’t help that I was apparently using to much of the healing ointment, and broke out in hives from it, which just added to the annoyance.
Two weeks later, not quite fully healed, I was back in the chair for another long sitting. Time dwindled slowly as my sisters still sat nearby. They made me sound like a pervert to Jack. He actually let me peruse a very interesting (though rather creepy) comic book involving demonic sodomy once he had learned of my interests. Finally, nearly an hour after the shop had closed I was finally finished and looking at the finished product. Needless to say, even while he had been tattooing it, I was feeling apprehensive, especially since I hadn’t been able to watch it be done. I admitted that I felt, “kind of like a poser”, and was assured that it didn’t matter, because it was still a really ‘sweet’ tattoo.
Looking at her then, my face flushed. It was exactly what I had wanted but with Jack’s own creative touch as well. I had originally planned to get a small, black, encircled X somewhere else, but we had decided to incorporate it into this one. The vision in my head had been of a solid black X so when Jack brought up the idea to doing it in purple, my reaction was mixed.
“What kind of purple are we talking about here? Like…lavender or darker?”
“I’m thinking more of a metallic,” He replied, mixing up his inks before we started. “It’s going to look really good with the blues and the greens to add in some different colors because there is so much of the blue going on.”
I loved it. I still love it. People always ask , “What are you going to think of it when you’re 80?”, and I shrug at them. It’s still going to be beautiful, so what does it matter?
Getting my tattoo made me realize a lot of things. First, I realized how cool my family actually is, my Mom in particular. She was always one of those “cool moms” but the fact that she might even like my tattoos more then I do, is highly amusing. She actually encourages me to show them off, and is just as excited about my other ideas for body-art as I am.
Secondly, I learned that what other people think doesn’t matter. Some people might say that it was stupid to get a comic book heroine on the back of my leg –especially when I only read the older collections, but really…it’s none of their business. I don’t have to explain myself to them, and I don’t expect them to tell me why they did some of the stupid things that they probably did when they were my age. As long as I’m happy with it, that’s all that matters.
Lastly, like the signs in the tattoo parlors across the nation say: No Pain, No Gain. Like everything in life, you’re going to have to give a little something up –be it in the form of cash, valuables, time, or even a little self-inflicted pain, in order to get something that you really want. In the end, you’re left with something totally gorgeous that you’re going to have to remind you of what an awesome time you had when you were young. I might not live to be 80, or even 25, but either way, I am going to be able to say that I got a kick-ass tattoo, of a very pretty southern belle, and that it was totally worth it.

Making His Mark

Making His Mark
A Ten Minute Play

by
SAMANTHA JOHNSON

SETTING: A New York City apartment, simple décor with a desk, window, and filing cabinets
TIME: Present time

CHARACTERS

RODNEY: 27 years old, tends to be bitter and cynical.

SUZANNA: 31, Rodney’s older sister. Light hearted, loves her brother finds it hard to deal with his cynicism.

MR. HENRI DAVIS: 45, book editor. Always in a bit of an excited rush to get things done.

(A young man, RODNEY, sits in a chair at a desk in front of laptop computer and printer. There are two chairs are set to the left of the desk. There is a large picturesque window overlooking the city He looks pale, obviously ill, bundled in layers and there is a cap covering a bald head. Lights rise as Voice Over Begins.)

RODNEY
(Actor note: reactions to voice should be obvious.)
All I wanted my entire life was to make a mark on the world. However, seeing as how the doctors are saying that my time left in the world is indeterminate –as little as two months, as many as two years, I doubt that my little dream will come true.
I started out as a songwriter, and then that stupid play came out –RENT, and there was that song GLORY that pretty much put my entire life into a nice little two-minute number. Sans the idiot girlfriend who slices her wrists.
I listen to the song sometimes, and wonder if I’ll ever achieve “Glory”. But I’m not a songwriter anymore. I don’t have anything to write songs about. I’ve moved on to bigger things. Mostly fiction, although most of that is pretty fucking depressing. It’s hard to write something that people actually want to read when you’re a twenty-seven year old AIDS victim that only wants to live, although the world so obviously wants you to die.
I’m basically alone now, barely making rent on my $1000-dollar-a-month apartment, medical bills up to my ass. My sister comes to visit me once in awhile, but my attitude bothers her. Forgive me Sis, for being a cynical bastard. It’s not my fault that I did everything wrong that you could possible imagine. It was pretty inevitable that something would come back to haunt me. That something might as well kill me too.
Anyway, I’ve been working on something lately –my last painful dregs at my muse to try and achieve my hopeless dream. It’s shit. I know that it is. But apparently someone liked it. I made the mistake of showing the first couple of chapters to Sis when she showed up last week baring home-baked goodies she made with her kids that tasted liked dust in my mouth. She took them with her and showed them to some publishing friend of hers. I should be angry, but I’m not. Apparently, he liked them and is asking to see more of the story. I believe the phrase Sis used when she told me was, “totally fucking enthralled with it” to describe the way he felt. I guess he likes my use of contractions or some crap like that. What the fuck do I know?

(A loud knock announces the entrance of SUSANNA, STAGE RIGHT.)

SUSANNA
Oh my god, Rodney! What are you doing?!
(She begins to straighten the cluttered desk as if looking for something.)

Henri Davis will be here like ten minutes! You aren’t even dressed yet! I knew I shouldn’t have left it to you to get ready!

RODNEY
Excuse me, Sis, but I’m twenty-seven years old. I think I can dress myself. –If you’re looking for the chapters, they’re in the filing cabinet.

(RODNEY stands off to the side of the desk and begins to pull off the layers. He tosses them behind the desk as he goes. SUZANNA moves towards the filing cabinet and going through the drawers. By the time they have finished speaking, he has taken off clothes to reveal a pair of jeans and button-down shirt covering a white t-shirt. The cap stays on his head.)

SUZANNA
I thought you were excited about this, Rodney. You want to get this published, don’t you? Or are you giving up on it already? Don’t tell me that you’ve already given up! You aren’t dying yet, you know!

RODNEY
Christ, Sis. Would you shut up for a few minutes? Is this hat OK, or should I choose a different one?


SUZANNA
(Gives him a glance as she pulls out the folder presumably with his book chapters in it.)
It’s fine. –So, your book…have you been working on it?

RODNEY
Yeah, I guess.
(Doorbell rings.)
You want to get the door for me?
(Lights dim, HENRI appears from STAGE RIGHT. He sits in one of the chairs near the desk, SUZANNA sits in the other, and RODNEY sits behind the desk again. Lights rise.)

HENRI
(Slightly out of breath.)
Sorry, am I late? been waiting for this day for weeks –ever since Suzie showed me the manuscript –is there more? I feel like I’m starved for it or something. Feeling like that, you’d think I’d have the decency to be punctual, right? The story is amazing, Rodney, and I don’t say that to just anyone.

RODNEY (Looking disinterested, biting his nails.)
Well, it was really kind of a fluke –I don’t have that much background in British was or anything. My major in college was American History actually.

SUZANNA
Oh, don’t be so modest, Rodney. –He took all the history courses in high school and college. He’s always been very intelligent.

(RODNEY gives a snort, which goes ignored.)

But you like the story, right? You want to publish it? That’s why you wanted to come see us today, right?

HENRI
Of course –I wouldn’t dream of wasting your time if it wasn’t to tell you good news. Tell me, Rodney, have you published anything in the past?


SUZANNA
Oh, of course he has! He was extensively—

HENRI
(in a disapproving tone)
Suzie, I asked Rodney.
(Suzanna gives a careful laugh, and nods to Rodney.)
SUZANNA
Sorry –go ahead, Rodney.

RODNEY
(Heaving a sigh.)
I guess –I was in my college paper a few times, a couple of poetry collections. Sold a song or two to some record companies. Nothing huge though. Why do you ask?

HENRI
Just a question –to see how familiar you are with the process. Is the book finished, or is it still a work in progress?

RODNEY
I’m not sure if I’ll finish it.

HENRI
(Worried.)
What do you mean?

RODNEY
I mean, I don’t know if I’ll finish it. You know I’m dying right?

SUZANNA
Rodney! –I’m sorry Henri. He’s fine. He’s just melodramatic sometimes –a bit of a hypochondriac. Aren’t you Rodney?

RODNEY
AIDS isn’t hypochondria, Sis.
(SUZANNA sighs, shaking her head, covering her face with her hands.)
What, you look surprised, Mr. Davis. Didn’t my sister tell you?

HENRI
Ah, no…Suzi didn’t inform me of your…condition.

(Rodney barks an uncontrollable laugh, which turns into a heaving cough. SUZANNA gets up, disappears, and returns with a glass of water, which Rodney drinks.)
Did I say something amusing?

RODNEY
I love it when people call it a “condition”. It’s fuckin’ hilarious…
You know what, Mr. Davis. I like you. I’ll finish this piece of shit, just for you.
(He takes the folder that Suzanna previously pulled from the cabinet and tosses it into Henri’s lap.)
Is that enough for now?

HENRI
(Opens the folder, flipping through the pages.)
This is plenty to get started… I’ll contact you about the legal work sometime tomorrow.
You just get back to writing, okay?

RODNEY
Sounds like a deal.

(Lights dim again, HENRI and SUZNNA exit, STAGE RIGHT. RODNEY pulls a few layers back on as the lights rise, and he sits back down at his computer. SUZANNA enters again.)
I wish you would stop hovering in the doorway, Sis. If you’re going to come in, just come in already.

SUZANNA
(Entering.)
I’m sorry. I’m just nervous. You said you were almost done, and your deadline was last week. Henri is getting antsy.

RODNEY
Hey, it’s not like its my fault that I had to spend a week in the hospital, okay? You think I like being in that place? You think I like getting lectured about safe sex practices and past drug use? Well, I don’t.

SUZANNA
That was a little old lady, and she probably didn’t even know better.

RODNEY
It was still obnoxious.

(The two fall silent, and the clacking of keys grows louder and louder until it stops. RODNEY pushes back from his desk.)
Done. Are you happy now?
(The printer begins to hum, kicking out pages.)

SUZANNA
Quite.
(She picks up the pages as the printer stops humming, and she scans through them.)
So…are you ready for this to be over with?

RODNEY
Yes. To much stress –it makes me more susceptible to getting sick.

SUZANNA
I’m going to take these to Henri’s office –do you want to come with? Get out of the
house for a bit? Or are you going to play the hermit and stay here.

RODNEY
I’ll stay here. Tell Henri I said hi.
(He watches her leave STAGE RIGHT, before pulling his chair back to his computer.)
(Voice Over.)
Well, I finished it. The novel titled “In His King’s Army” is now probably on it’s
way to Henri’s office where he’ll send it to his editors, and then it will get sent back to me for a rewrite, and then it will go through the cycle again until it goes to the printers.
I should be happy that it’s finished, I know that. I should be happy that it’s being published, that it’s already being talked up in the publishing world, that even though it’s still four months until the release date, people are still calling to set up interviews with me. But, I’m not. I hate this story with a passion. I finished it for Henri because he genuinely liked it. I finished it for Suzanna and her kids. I didn’t do this for me.
So, with that in mind, does this count as making my mark? When I planned this, I never said that I had to enjoy what I put out there. But if I’m going to die with only one thing ever making it this big, shouldn’t I have some kind of attachment to it?
(RODNEY gets up from the desk, but the voice over continues as he exits to STAGE LEFT.)
I put a lot of time and effort into it, but that doesn’t seem to matter. I feel like I wasted my time on something I didn’t care about, rather then having spent my last few months doing something I could be proud of –to hell with whether or not people actually enjoyed it.
(The set is quiet for a few moments, and the image in the window shifts to a wintery scene over looking the city. SUZANNA and HENRI enter, STAGE RIGHT.)

SUZANNA
Well, I think that’s the last of it… just the desk and cabinets to pack up now.

HENRI
You think he left anything else that was publishable on the computer?
(He picks up the laptop, turning it over in his hands.)
I wish he could have known how starved for his literature he left the world. People are chomping at the bit for another book…it hurts to tell them that he’s dead.

SUZANNA
Well…that was Rodney. Abuse them for as long as possible, and then leave them wanting more.

HENRI
Yeah, he seemed to have that knack. I know he felt me feeling a little empty inside after I finished reading the book, knowing that there wouldn’t be any more of it… He left it so open ended. A lot screamed for a sequel. Some even suggested that you write, it Suzi.

SUZANNA
Ha! No way. I wouldn’t tarnish my brother’s work like that. I can’t write to save my life.

HENRI
Some people argue that as long as it’s done in the family, it’s not a real tarnishing.

SUZANNA
It’s not going to happen Henri, so just forget about it. Rodney was your one-hit-wonder. His book will live for generations, a modern classic. Leave it at that…please?

HENRI
You’re right of course, but it still makes me angry.
(He puts the laptop down again.)
He knew he was dying, Suzi. He hid the fact that he was so far gone –he could have at least warned us that this was really the end, that he wasn’t really being histrionic. He could have told us…

SUZANNA
Henri, he tried to tell me. I didn’t want to admit to myself that my baby brother was dying…but it’s OK. Hopefully he’s happy where ever he’s at.

HENRI
Did Rodney believe in a heaven and hell?

SUZANNA
(Giving a laugh.)
Ha! Hardly.
(There is a moment of silence.)
Pretend he did though…where do you think he ended up?

(HENRI and SUZANNA look at one another for a moment, before SUZANNA sighs, giving a shrug and resuming with the packing up of Rodney’s goods)
Well, wherever he is I hope he’s happy that he got his finally got his fame.

HENRI
(Shaking his head.)
I don’t think Rodney was after fame, Suzanna. He just wanted to make a difference in the world…even if that difference was as small as a couple hundred pages and a sixteen-dollar price tag.

SUZANNA
You’re right of course.
(She picks up the laptop, placing it on the top of her box.)
Well…that’s the last of it. You want to grab the printer?

HENRI
(Hefting up the printer.)
Not a problem…ah, you want to say goodbye?

Suzanna
(breezily.)
Don’t be stupid, Henri. It’s just an apartment. It’s not my brother.
(She pauses as HENRI exits, STAGE RIGHT. She turns back to the room, hiking the box up against her hip. She looks over her shoulder as if it make sure that Henri is really gone.)
…Rodney? This is silly, I know…like you’re actually still here or something, but…if you
are, I just want to let you know that everything is OK. And that I’m sorry, for not taking
you seriously sometimes. And that I’ll miss you.
(Lights out)



FINIS

Trouble In the Underworld? (The Story of Hades and his Lovers II)

A/N: There needs to be more frot out in the world. It beez the hottest form of doin' it.

Trouble in the Underworld?
The Story of Hades and his Lovers II

Thanatos, the original Greek god of Death, didn’t visit me often. He had a job to do, and I fully understood that. However, I had given him a troupe of reapers to work in his place, so he could spend more time with me…well, not necessarily with me, but so that he wouldn’t have to worry himself with trivial things.
Earth II was booming. It was a regular metropolis now. Marius over saw it well, with his myriad of lovers, and Hestia at his side. I found it deeply ironic that he kept taking mortal lovers, but I never said anything to him. It had been a thousand years since we had finally peacefully said goodbye. He had assured me that he would come back, but so far he hadn’t. I hadn’t quite lost hope on Marius…I just made a realization that I didn’t need him to make me happy anymore. After all, love be damned, I had my own myriad of lovers at my disposal if I wanted them…but I held back for those I really cared about.
Warm arms wrapped around my shoulders from behind as I wrote out correspondence at my desk in my study.
“I felt that you needed me,” the sultry voice in my ear was hot against my skin. “Was I right?”
“You always are,” I smiled, turning the chair. Thanatos hiked one leg over the arm of the chair and grabbed the back to sit awkwardly in my lap. “But what are you really doing here? I thought you were too busy to come for a visit.”
“Oh bah,” He rolled his eyes. “The Reapers have stolen all of my work, who I am kidding? I spend most of my time with my brother and fixing the reaper’s stupid mistakes…but Hypnosis and I are arguing now…so I though I would come see you.” He placed a short kiss on my lips.
“Oh, so I was an after thought? How nice.”
He made a soft whining noise, “Don’t be like that!”
I laughed softly, pulling my fingers through his hair, “Are you here for a while or just for a romp?”
“Hmmm…that depends on how long you’ll have me,” he kissed me. His tongue stroked mine, and after he finally broke away, I leaned back comfortably in the chair.
“You know that if it were up to me, I wouldn’t let you go at all.” My arms wrapped around his waist more tightly, and I picked him up easily. His legs wrapped around me, and I carried him out of the den.
“Where are you taking me?” He looked confused when I leaned against a door down from the den.
“My room,” I took one hand away from him just long enough to turn the knob, and stumble backwards into the dark room. A fire was already crackling behind it’s gate, adding a nice warmth to the usual cool dampness of the castle.
“We don’t usually do it in here…” His arms loosened around my neck as I dropped him in the middle of the bed and crawled on top of him.
“Going to your room was too far,” I mused. “Besides, my bed is bigger.”
“That it is…” He glanced around at the size of the bed. “Why is that?”
“Because I’m the master of the castle, of course…now hush.” My lips captured his again. My hands moved to caress the feathers of his wings before I ran my hands under his shirt to feel his silky skin. “No battle wounds this time, right?”
He smiled, “No. Nothing by expanses of perfect skin.”
“Fabulous,” I groaned, moving away to pull away his clothes. It wasn’t long before both of us were naked. Thanatos was on top of me, inside of me, his skin warm, his breath hot, and both of us panted heavily against each other’s throats. As he thrust greedily, his lips found mine. He grinned through half-open eyes, biting my bottom lip to incite a groan from my throat. His wings stretched out, wrapping us up in a little cocoon where we were pressed chest-to-chest. My arms went around his neck as he groaned, spilling inside of me.
“Fuck,” I sighed, as he groaned, breathily pulling away.
“You’re still hard,” his smile broadened, his fist wrapping around my member. “You’re always hard…that’s why I like having sex with you…” He was quiet for a few moments, continuing to thrust into me before his smile grew slightly wicked, “Do you want to take me?”
“I’m always willing to take you, Thanatos.”
He pulled out of me, and I couldn’t stop the long groan, my head tilting back. His member brushed mine as he rose to impale himself. I watched him tilt his head back, arcing his back.
When he came back down to rest against me, I petted his hair, “You are such a masochist.”
“Yes, but I am your masochist,” He assured me.
“Well, my little masochist, you need to fuck harder before I get frustrated and break you,” I tugged on one of his wings. “I wouldn’t want to crush one of these in a fit of annoyance.”
His grin still held a slyness, and his leaned down to kiss me soundly, “Don’t worry…I was just adjusting.”
My hands slid down his back. My fingertips traced the wing-joints under his shoulders before gripping his hips. He knew exactly how to use his body for my satisfaction, and I very little to do with the pleasure but reaping benefits. Thanatos groaned, kissing me. My fingers dug further into his hips, silently urging him to thrust harder. His hair fell over his shoulder, teasing my skin.
“Are you close?” his mouth warmed my ear, his hair dusting my cheeks. I reached up, brushing it back away from my face, and over his other shoulder.
“Why? Are you already tired? You’ve just started,” I teased, reaching down between our bodies to stroke his soft member. He moaned in dislike, sensitive from his previous task. I turned his lips to mine again, “You may stop if you like.”
He sighed, rolling away from me, and groaning massaging his hips with his knuckles.
“Silly boy,” I chided, putting my hands above his shoulders, careful not to press down onto his wings. “Don’t think that I am done with you yet.”
“…Are you going to fuck me?” He asked.
“Hmm…I was going to torture you for a bit,” I admitted.
“Oh?” He raised a curious eyebrow.
I licked his lips before leaning back on my knees to stroke my fingers down my chest, “I know how to get you hot again.”
“I just came, Hades!”
“So what?”
“So, I’m not like you…always at the ready.” He tugged on my arms, kissing me again. “Fuck me –and then when you’re done, I might be up for another go.”
“Well you’re not any fun at all, Thanatos,” My lips brushed his throat. “Maybe I shouldn’t fuck you at all…it would be to much of a reward for you.”
He groaned, “What are you going to do then, dare I ask?”
I gave him a smirk before rising onto my knees again. My hand went to my member and I began stroking myself. He leaned up on his elbows, his wings ruffling against the sheets, to lick at the head, but I held him away with my free hand.
“Ah-ah,” I shook my head. “Not yet.”
He grumbled, his eyes averting first to my hand upon my appendage before rising to my face. It only took a moment before he over-took me again, his mouth crushing against mine in a savage fit. His hand replaced mine, and my arms wrapped around his neck. His hips thrust nicely against mine as he fondled me, but I was focusing more on the way his lips felt against mine, soft and wanting. His tongue was damp from panting as it delved into my mouth.
He pulled his mouth from mine to look down as I erupted onto my chest, some of it splattering against his arm and shoulder. He pulled his hand away to lick it away from his arm, looking down innocently at me.
“You’re not even close to being satisfied, are you?” He asked, moving to lap his tongue up my stomach.
I laughed, “Nonsense, I am quite pleased.” I lifted him back up, pulling him against me. “Just because I’m hard doesn’t mean I need another go.” I chided.
“So says you,” He retorted. His face turned into my neck, his hair splaying across my face and neck. One wing flattened against the bed, he other rose to curl over us, the feathers tickling our skin.
“I mean it –you’ve satisfied me quite well.”
He made a guttural noise, “Ha! I’ve seen you spill more by simple tongue strokes.” His nose continued to nuzzle deeper down my shoulder.
“Ah, this is about the amount of my visual satisfaction,” I mused. I brushed my fingertips over one of his wings. “Well…that I don’t have an explanation for. Sometimes it comes in pints, sometimes only in mere ounces.”
He made a soft whining noise, reminding me a bit of like a cat, “Hades…”
“What is it, Love?” I asked, stroking his hair instead. I wrapped the tendrils around my fingers, slightly tugging his face to mine.
“I want you to fuck me again,” His lips brushed mine in a faint kiss. “I want you to be completely emptied.”
“Darling, I don’t think such a thing is possible,” I laughed. My fingers untangled from his hair, and moved to stroke along his back. “But we could try if you’d like. Surely right now you’re tired from your work and travel…and the sex that has already been had.”
He hummed softly, curling his leg over my hips, holding me tightly, “Sort of.”
“How long are you staying for? You never told me.”
“You didn’t give me a chance before you whisked me away.”
I laughed, “I guess so.”
“Anyway, I’ll probably only stay a few days. Maybe a week or two; if that’s OK.”
“Of course it is,” my fingers reached his bared backside and I gave it a tight squeeze. He gave a short noise of being pleased, and set to kissing me again.

Of course, just because everything seemed to be going so well, something had to go wrong. Thanatos and I were quite pleased with each other. We were learning each other’s movements, likes, dislikes, and quirks. I loved him like I had never loved anyone else –but at the same time, it wasn’t like we were inseparable. He could tell me any day that he wanted that he was done with me, and I would be okay with that.
Not that I expected Thanatos to come up to me at breakfast and say, “Hades, I don’t think this relationship is healthy –I think I’m going to go back to the way things were before we started sleeping together. Goodbye.” That would be ludicrous. He was content to lounge in bed with me in the morning, pressing kisses down my throat and chest, eat a leisurely breakfast before I made my usual daily rounds, meet for a quick lunch, maybe a little after-lunch sex. Then we would part again until dinner, and then of course after dinner, we usually retired to one of the bedrooms for an evening alone.
So yes, our relationship was mostly sex, but we did our share of talking too. Mostly between romps, but sometimes in the morning, or right before we went to sleep we would have short chats before sleep would overcome us. Nights that we didn’t have sex though, nights that we just lay in each others arms, listening to each other breath, discussing light-hearted things…they were just as good, if not better.
I tried not to think about Marius, but it was hard. Marius had been my inseparable lover. We did everything you could think of together. With Thanatos, it wasn’t like that. We were two totally separate entities with nothing that tied us together. Thanatos had his job as a reaper –bringing souls to the underworld and all that, and I was a supreme deity overseeing my kingdom.
“What are you thinking about?” Thanatos’s hair fell over my shoulder as he leaned over my chair.
“Us,” I admitted.
“Oh? What about us?”
“How unlikely a pair we are.”
“Why do you say that?” He asked, looking at me quizzically. “I’d say we are a perfect pair –we like the same things, both of our jobs are particularly morbid…we both enjoy being in the underworld…”
“You like it here? Really?”
“Really,” He nodded. “I like that it’s always cool, and the noise of the wandering souls is kind of…musical after awhile.”
I smiled, reaching up to touch his face, “You’re so precious.”
His lips met mine, “So what is really wrong?”
“I wonder what you are doing here sometimes.”
“What are you talking about? Do you want me to leave?” He seemed surprised.
“No! No! Of course I want you to stay!” I reached for his wrist, holding him close to my chair. I drew him around, pulling him into my lap. “I mean…why do you bother coming to me when you could have any other person in the world.”
“Because you’ll always be here,” He stroked his finger along my cheek. “Why should I get attached to some mortal who is just going to up and die on me, when I can have you? You are all that I will ever need.”
“Does this mean that you…you’ve remained faithful to me?”
“You didn’t expect me to? I thought I was your lover.”
“You are! I just…” I shrugged. “I didn’t know you had attached a string to us.”
“Have you remained faithful?”
“Of course,” I scoffed. “Who would I be sleeping with other then you?”
He shrugged, picking a bit of fluff from my sleeve, averting his eyes. “I don’t know…I thought that maybe Marius had come back to you, or something.”
I scoffed, “Marius hasn’t returned to me, and I already told him that he would have to share my affection.” I brushed the back of my knuckles over his cheek. “You wouldn’t like that though, would you?”
“Like what?” He acted daft, though I knew he understood me completely.
“You wouldn’t like to share me with Marius.”
He shrugged, “I suppose he has some right to being in your bed. He was your lover for eons. I wouldn’t have much of a case against it…except that I wouldn’t want you to do it.” He looked up at me, seriousness showing in the edges of his eyes, “If he comes back to you…what will happen to me?”
“Marius isn’t going to come back to me, I gave up on him a long time ago.”
“But if he did…he walked in that door right now, and said, “Hades, I want to fuck you so badly it hurts”, what would you do? Would you fuck him?”
I shrugged, “I don’t know…does he love me?”
“Yes.”
“Does he have that spark in the pit of his stomach? That feeling that makes it all worthwhile?”
“Yes.”
I shrugged again, “Then yes, I probably would.”
“And if he didn’t have those things? If he just really needed to release himself?”
“Then I would tell him that his previous lovers are all in my employ and that he could help himself to one or more of them.”
He looked down again, quietly unbuttoning my shirt to graze his fingertips over my skin, “Hades?”
“Yes?”
“Do you feel that spark for me?”
I mused for a moment before answering, “I didn’t at first –we were just doing it because we wanted to…but I do now.”
“Is it as strong for me as it was when you were fucking Marius?”
“Stop comparing yourself to him,” I pulled his hands away from my shirt. “It’s very childish. You are two separate people.”
“I take that as a no, then.”
“You and Marius are totally different people. I love you two separate ways.”
“What do you mean?” He pressed.
I sighed. This conversation had probably been a long time in coming, but I still wasn’t really prepared for it. How was I supposed to explain to a god that I loved him, but at the same time I didn’t? I didn’t want to tell him that he was a fuck of convenience –he was more then that, and yet he wasn’t.
“I mean that…at first, it seemed like I couldn’t live without him, but obviously I can With you, I know that that you’re going to come and go as you please. You aren’t tied to me, tied to the Underworld.”
“I could be.”
“What are you suggesting?”
“The old rules have changed…we could get married.”
My stomach leapt, “Married?”
“Yes –many of the Gods are reconsidering their former partners. You and Persephone have already divorced. Haven’t you ever thought of marrying again?” His eyes were pools of opal and I found myself being sucked into them.
“But we are both men—“
“Exactly,” His forehead pressed to mine. “We could change the world, Hades.”
“What if it didn’t work? What if we tire of one another?”
“We worry about that then. –So, what say you? Will you marry me?”
“I don’t know, Thanatos…”
His eyes changed, and he pulled away from me, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“I didn’t say no,” I reached for his wrist.
“But you didn’t say yes, either.”
“You haven’t given me the proper chance to think it over!” I protested, “if you want an immediate answer then no, just because you’re in such a rush. Goodness, you lead me to think you are with child or something equally awful.”
Thanatos’s face fell further, “You don’t like children?”
“I don’t think that life full of sullen sadness, surrounded by death is a very good environment for a child.” I lifted his face to my eyes, “Thanatos, if you want children then marry a woman.”
“I don’t want a woman,” He pulled me up from the chair, wrapping his arms around my waist. His wings enclosed around us, shutting out the light and his forehead pressed to mine. “I want you, Hades. We could make this work. It would give us a tie. Right now, we’re merely hanging by threads. I want permanence. I want a solid hold to you.”
“Thanatos, you are so funny.”
“I am not trying to be funny!”
“I know, I know…” My fingers brushed across his cheeks. “If you really want to…then of course I’ll marry you.”

Opposition stated mere moments, it seemed, after I had finally agreed. Zeus made his feelings evident the moment the message reached him of our impending nuptuals.
“I don’t care whom you have sex with Hades, but I cannot condone this marriage! It has never been allowed!” He shook his head.
“Well, no one asked you if it was allowed. Is it written in stone somewhere?” I asked.
“Of course not –it was an unspoken rule. No one has ever dared to break it!”
“Well, I intend to, with our without your blessing Brother. I couldn’t give less of a damn about what you think.”
“What about Marius?”
“What about him?”
“Isn’t he going to feel cheated?”
“Why would he? He has a wife.”
“And you are taking a husband! A right that should have been his a long time ago!”
“It wasn’t allowed back then, remember?”
Zeus looked annoyed.
“What bothers you more? That I am getting married, or that I am getting married to a man?” My eyebrows raised, “If you’ll remember, you like the touch of men just as well as I do.”
“Bullshit,” he scoffed. “That is total shit and you know it. I liked sleeping with you and with Marius—”
“Ah-ah! Neither of us were your first,” I reminded him. “You loved a man and you know it.”
Arguing with me proved to be a loosing battle for Zeus, bt many more bombarded us with their displeasure. It seemed that the only people happy or us were the deities of love –Eros and Aphrodite, and the unlikely pair of Hestia and Marius.
“You looked worried,” Thanatos wrapped his arms around me one evening as the dawn of our wedding drew closer.
“I am more confused then worried, I think.” I placed my hands ontop of his. “We have surprising and worrying support.”
“What are you more flabbergasted about? Eros and Aphrodite or Hestia and Marius?”
“I’m not sure, I guess it is just that there are so many against us. Even though many of them already know that love knows no gender.” I tipped my head back to look at him. “Was this controversy what you were looking for when you asked me to marry you?”
“No…not really. But I like that it is showing peoples true colors. Some of these people –like Zeus, are just being ridiculous because they can be.”
“I know,” I nodded.
Thanatos murmured, leaning down to brush his lips against my cheek, “It’s late. Why don’t we go to bed?”
“I thought you already had,” I admitted.
“I did, but it was lonely without you.” Thanatos nuzzled against my neck. “Come to bed? You’ve been up for hours now. You need to rest your eyes from all of the red ink that the hate-mailers have been using.”
I laughed, “I have begun to just burn all of the negative RSVPs, actually. So far, we have a very small guest list.”
“Ah well, that’s alright. I always kind wanted just a small, quaint little wedding. Something just for the two of us.” He kissed me again.
“You look very handsome, Thanatos.” It occurred to me that I had been a long time since I complimented his good looks. His face flushed a light shade of pink.
“What do you mean?”
“You look really good tonight,” I repeated, standing up from my chair, and wrapping my arms around his bare waist. “Your wings are a silky-shade of black, your hair sleek and brushed, your skin is tan…you’re gorgeous.”
“Thank you?”
“Why do I detect a hint of disbelieve in your voice? You don’t think you can be handsome, Thanatos?”
“It’s not that,” He shook his head. “I just…you don’t tell me that very often.” He looked down at our feet, his arms pressed against my chest, his hands resting on my shoulders, putting a little space between us.
“That’s because I am a cad,” I rolled my eyes. “You are gorgeous, and you shouldn’t let me forget it.” He grinned, lifting his head to look at me again. His lips caught mine a tight kiss, standing up on his toes ever so slightly to gain a few inches over me. When he released me, he pulled away, grabbing my hands and pulling me towards the door.
“C’mon, Hades. Let us go to bed.”
The bedroom was dark when we entered, just the glow of the fireplace giving off enough light to find our way onto the bed. The door closed with a dull clap behind us and Thanatos pulled me close, just to fling me hazardously onto the bed before moving on top of me.
“Eager are we? I thought you wanted to go to sleep.”
“Sex first, then sleep,” He kissed me. I reached up, letting his hair slip through my fingers.
“Keep your wings down,” I commanded, my hands going to wrap around his waist. He obliged, folding them against his back. Afterwards, I pushed him over, into the pillows and straddled his hips between my knees. “Now…what do you want? Fucking? Sucking? Maybe just a little frottage?”
“Anything that’s going to involve our naked bodies,” Thanatos was obviously easy to please, as he wrapped on arm around my shoulders, pulling our mouths back together. I hummed, easing my fingers underneath his shirt, and it wasn’t to much longer before we both found ourselves void of all clothing. Thanatos’s breath was warm against my shoulder, his fingers pressing tightly to the back of my neck as our bodies pressed firmly together. He met every thrust and we grew hard against one another’s bodies nicely. His other hand tightened on my thigh, pulling me tighter. My own hands were separated, one holding back some of my weight, pressed against the mattress at his side. The other was under his hips, pulling him close.
“You better stop, unless you want me to come already.” His hold on my neck loosened, his fingers instead raking through my short hair.
“What’s wrong with that?” I asked, turning my face against his, pressing my lips to his jaw, then to his lips. “I like it when you come.”
“But it’s too quick, we just got started,” He reminded me.
I sighed, pressing my lips to his throat and shifting to his side, pulling our bodies apart. He groaned as cool air flowed between us.
“You didn’t have to move, Hades. Just slow down,” His fingers tightened in my hair, crushing our mouths together again.
“You said to stop,” I shrugged, pulling his hands from my hair. “Besides, I know how to really drive you insane.” I gave him a wicked grin and let my fingers trail down his skin as I moved down the bed. He gave a soft whine the moment my skin left any contact with his, and he sat up to reach for me again. I shook my head, “Ah-ah…”
“What are you doing?” He let me push his hands away, and he leaned up on his elbows.
“Torturing you to the best of my ability,” I shrugged. My tongue flicked playfully at the tip of his member before circling the head. He moaned, his mouth dropping open slightly as he watched me run my tongue in strokes against the entire length before finally putting it fully in my mouth.
“You are cruel,” He sighed, as I pushed his hands away again when he tried to push my further over his member.
“And you are impatient,” I left his member, instead pulling him forward to bring our bodies together again. He slid onto his knees, his hands sliding over my hips and across my buttocks to grab a hold of my thighs. My arms moved over his shoulders and I nudged his face up to mine to kiss as we resumed our frotting. His wings brushed my knuckles as they rose from his back to spread out. His breath grew faster and he began pushing harder and harder against me. We were both solid and it wouldn’t be long before we were emitting our fluids across each other’s bodies.
“Ah…are you ready?” I asked, pulling my mouth from his just for a moment. “Or are you going to ask me to stop again?” I hiked him up, even closer, pulling him even more tightly.
“If you don’t let me come right now…” He let himself trail off, his breath catching as his body jerked forward, pushing me onto my back. His hair fell across my face as he pressed his cheek against mine, grunting softly into my throat. Simultaneously we both came, our seed seeping together between our stomachs. He sighed, relieved, once he had subsided. He took the time to kiss me again before folding his wings back down, and rolling away from me.
“Are you content now?” I asked, shifting onto my side and leaning forward to lick a streak of come from his chest.
“Yes,” He nodded, stretching his arms above his head, sleepily. “I suppose we should probably clean ourselves up though before we turn in.”
“That would be the less dirty way of doing things,” I agreed. “Don’t worry –I’ll get up.” I gave him a quick kiss before getting up from the bed and crossing to the water-pitcher and basin across the room. I was back a moment later, wiping a cool, wet cloth across his bare skin. He shivered, taking it from my hands to do the same for me. When he found the both of us to be satisfactorily cleaned up, he tossed the cloth away, and edged the covers.
“Good night,” he rested his head against my shoulder and closed his eyes. I felt him rest a palm against my help as the last flames of the fire flickered out, casting the room into darkness except for the still-burning embers.

THe Story of Hade and his Lover (Final, Pt. 12)

Part 12

“Marius, what’s the matter?” Hestia was pressed against me, and she felt odd. “You keep fidgeting.”
“I’m sorry,” I pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I just…I can’t get comfortable.”
She sighed, turning around, wrapping an arm around my waist, “Because I’m not him, right? I told you we don’t have to share a room, Marius. I don’t expect you to treat me like your lover. I know that’s not what you want.”
“You’re my wife –you’ll sleep next to me.” I brushed her hair from her forehead.
She sighed, sitting up, “That may be true, but I’m not what you really want –no, let me speak.” She touched a finger to my lips as I began to protest. “I’m not a man, Marius. I can’t make you feel the same way.”
“I still feel good with you, Hestia.” I leaned up on my elbow, tugging her closer.
“But it’s still not the same as the way you felt with Hades. You were happier with him.” She brushed her fingers across my cheek, before she pressed a chaste kiss to my lips. “I’m going to go sleep in another room. Should I send someone in for you? Maybe that new servant boy, Jasper?”
“Don’t tease me.” I scoffed.
“I think he’d be more then happy to pleasure you,” She teased. “He’s got really nice hands –I noticed when he was doing the ironing the other morning.”
“I don’t want Jasper,” I shook my head.
“I know you don’t want him,” She sighed, turning to light one of the lamps near the bed and casting a low glow over the room. “But…you’re to pig-head to go and get what you really want.”
“He doesn’t want me anymore, he’s already replaced me.”
“My brother didn’t replace you, Marius. I wish you would stop saying that.” She shook her head. “He moved on. You said you were done with him, and Thanatos was willing to fill the hole you left in his heart. He’s not quite the perfect fit, but Hades enjoys the time he spends with him.”
“Fuck Hades –and Thanatos. I don’t need them, as long as I have you.” I wrapped my arms around her waist and buried my head into her stomach. She felt soft and delicate. It was nice, but she was right…she wasn’t what I wanted.
“Cad,” She sighed, running her fingers through my hair. “You know this was a marriage of convenience. We shouldn’t have lead Hades to believe otherwise.”
I turned my face back up to hers, “Why are you so concerned about Hades all of a sudden?”
“Because I can tell that you aren’t happy…and Thanatos stopped in yesterday…he took Jacob.”
“Hmm, yes.” I nodded. Jacob had died the previous day. He had been rather ill for the last couple of weeks, and of course he had been ageing (to me, anyway) at an alarming rate. I would miss him, his company, and his loyal, dutiful personality.
“I asked him if he was staying with Hades now…he said he wasn’t.”
“I don’t want to know about their relationship, thanks. I am perfectly happy to stay in the dark.”
“You know if you wanted to, he would take you back in a heartbeat. He has less to do now, the resurrection schedule solidified several months ago.”
“I know that,” I shrugged. “But I don’t want him back. He doesn’t want me.”
“The hell he doesn’t. He worships the ground you walk on and you know it. You’re both just…you’re both assholes!” She spat, pushing me away. “I can’t talk to you anymore, Marius. Goodnight.”
“Hestia,” I called her back, “Wait, I’m sorry. I know I’m an ass, but…Hestia?” She didn’t turn back as she pulled her silky robe around herself. “Where are you going to go?”
“One of the guest rooms, I suppose.” She replied curtly. “Goodnight, Marius. I’ll send in one of the servants. You shouldn’t sleep alone.”
“Hestia, I don’t want—“ The door closed, cutting me off. I sighed, and laid back into the pillows, preparing myself to send away Jasper whenever he should arrive.
As had been done with Jacob, Jasper was given the express duty of being my manservant. Jacob had picked him out before his demise, and Zeus had taken the time to approve the match. He was pretty, I suppose, with thick curly black hair, blue eyes, and a caramel complexion.
“Lady Hestia said you wanted me,” He leaned shyly in the doorway. She had obviously pulled him from bed. His hair was ruffled, his clothes were slightly awry, and his feet were deliciously bare. “Or was she mistaken…again?”
This was the third time in several days that Hestia had sent him to me. It wasn’t that I didn’t like him, but it felt bizarre to take part in another noncommittal relationship.
“I’m afraid so,” I nodded. “But…” I stopped him As he began to step away and close the door. I had caught the look of disappointment on his face, and was slightly surprised by it. “Why don’t you come in anyway? Hestia doesn’t believe I should sleep alone…I am inclined to agree with her.”
“Jacob told me you never sleep,” Jasper slipped through the door, closing it softly behind him. “Or was he mistaken?”
I smiled, “I rarely slept around him –I found him to be rather untrustworthy sometimes. But I doubt you have the gall to molest a god.”
His eyes widened slightly and he shook his head, “N-No…I don’t, I mean, I wouldn’t do that, not to you –not that I would do it to someone else either.” He shook his head vehemently. “I’m sorry, I’ll just shut my mouth.”
I smiled, “No, your babbling is cute. Come sit down.” I patted the bed next to me. He sat tentatively on the edge of the bed, folding his hands in his lap. “What’s the matter?”
“N-nothing,” He shook his head.
“Oh come on,” I chided. “You look scared. How come? Do I scare you?”
“N-no…I just…I’m not sure what to expect from you.”
“Oh?” I tilted my head. “Why do you say that?”
“Jacob explained to me what my duties to you were, including being your lover--”
“Jacob wasn’t my lover, Jasper. He was someone I had sex with on a regular basis, but he wasn’t my lover. I don’t expect you will be either.”
“Exactly…so, am I just supposed to let you use me, fall in love you, even though I know you’ll never feel the same way about me? I don’t want to be whimsical or anything. I don’t expect for you to love me, but I feel as though I am cheating myself out of a productive life if I…” He stopped himself again. “No, I’m sorry. I should be happy for this opportunity.”
“Tell you what…” I leaned over, letting the covers fall around my waist as I blew out the candle, casting the room back into darkness. “We’ll try it out…if you don’t like it, if you aren’t pleased with the way it all turns out, I’ll let you go. I didn’t choose you –Jacob and Zeus did.”
“Try what?” He asked.
I laughed softly, reaching for him through the darkness and taking a hold of his arm. He moved easily into my hold as I pulled him across the bed. My lips sought out his and for the first time in years, a wave of excitement flooded over me. Whether that was excitement because I was finally having sex with another man for the first time in months, or whether I was simply suppressing true desire for Jasper, I didn’t know.
He groaned, and I knew I had held the kiss to long. His lips simply tasted divine, and I wanted to savor that flavor as long as I could.
“Hmm,” I pulled back, licking my lips. “I taste strawberries…and chocolate.”
His face warmed in a blush, and he lowered his head.
“What are you so shy for?” I asked, tilting his head back up, and kissing him again. The flavor was the same, and so much different from the wine I usually tasted on Hades’ breath, and the fruit of Jacob’s. “It wasn’t a reprimand, Jasper.”
He was silent again, and I felt his tongue move against mine just a bit.
I pushed him back into the pillows, sitting astride his hips. My palms pressed into his shoulders, holding him back. His arms raised slightly as if to push me back, but then stopped.
“You’re afraid, am I right?” I asked. My balanced my hip against his, shifting my weight so I could run my palm under his shirt and across his muscular chest.
“What is there to be afraid of?” He asked.
“You tell me,” I countered. “You are the one whose heart is beating a mile a minute.” My hand stopped over his heart, feeling it patter through his chest.
“You make me nervous, but I’m not afraid.” He shook his head.
“Why?” I tilted my head. “I’m not that different from you.”
“Maybe not physically you aren’t, but mentally and personality wise, we are quite far apart.”
“Don’t think like that,” I shifted back over him, and pulled his shirt over his head. “I don’t understand why I never get boys who are just interested in fucking. You all think this is some kind of fanciful mind game or something.”
“Shouldn’t sex be a mind game?” Jasper asked.
“No, it shouldn’t. It should be to people, some friction, and a couple of exploding orgasms near the end. No feelings need to be involved.”
“But isn’t it better if there are feelings involved?” He watched my tongue trace around his nipple.
I sighed, “You talk to much, Jasper.”
“My many pardons, m’lord. I won’t open my mouth again.”
“Hmm…I think we’ll come back to that thought in a moment.” I pressed a kiss to his lips, and was surprised by the familiar sinking in my stomach that I hadn’t felt for such a long time. I looked up at him, analyzing his face. He wasn’t unattractive by any means, but he certainly wasn’t my master. So, what exactly was it that was making my stomach churn in such a delicious way? Did my subconscious sense something that I couldn’t visually see? Was it something in the way that he smelled? I leaned back, staring at him for a moment.
“Is there something wrong?” He finally asked, after we had sat in silence for several minutes.
“I feel something for you, and that isn’t right.” I pushed off of the bed, walking away from him to pour a glass of wine. “I’m not supposed to feel anything.”
“That’s a sad way to look –why shouldn’t you feel anything?”
“Because I can’t love you!” I turned back to him, “You’re mortal! You’re sweet, and young, and kind now, but in another twenty, thirty years you’re going to get old and bitter and you’ll die on me. Not to mention the fact that you aren’t…you aren’t him.”
“Well, thank you for reminding me of my mortality. I don’t think about that enough as it is, and as for me not being ‘him’, I can only assume that you are referring to Hades, to which all I have to say is…No, I’m not.” Jasper shrugged. “Why are you so afraid of letting yourself love someone else?”
“Because he’s the only one I really want!” I wasn’t sure why I was getting so angry at Jasper. It wasn’t as if he had done anything wrong, other then have some bizarre quality that made me feel instantly head-over-heels for him.
“Do you want me to leave?” He asked, moving from the bed.
“Yes, I do,” I nodded before tipping back my glass of wine. I tried not to watch him pull his shirt back over his head and made his way towards the door.
“Marius?” He stopped at the doorway.
“What is it?” I bit.
“We like having you here and all that, but you really aren’t happy here…we’d understand why you left. There are plenty of other people who are capable of keeping us all in line.”
I mulled over what he had said after the door had shut. It was true, there were plenty of gods roaming Earth II now. I just happened to be the one that everyone looked to for guidance all of the time. Hestia was second to that effect, as she intermingled with them, but she was too gentle-hearted to order them around; not that I was cruel by any means but I was impartial to them and to their whims of fancy.
The closet door creaked open, and I hadn’t realized that I had opened the portal to the Underworld. I stared at the door an the swirling colors for a moment. Did I really want to go through? What if I went through and he was with Thanatos? Did I really want to see that? Wouldn’t it just be another dagger in my stomach; another scar on my wrist?
Then I decided, it didn’t matter if he was with Thanatos. I needed him. He had promised he would be there waiting for me and damn it, I needed him. For the first time, I was afraid. He had moved on, really and truly moved on. I knew it had been rude to tell him that Hestia and I were in love –which wasn’t completely untrue, but it was a platonic kind of love. But it had also been cruel of him to whisper such crude things to his new lover in front of me, as if I wouldn’t care.
I breathed a sigh of relief when I found that he was alone.
“Marius?” He turned from his desk, “What brings you here at this time of day? Something the matter?” He turned back, opening a desk drawer to throw something into it before closing it tightly again.
“No, not really.” I shrugged, “I guess I just, I just wanted to see you is all.”
“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow. “Something is wrong then. What is it?”
I leaned back against the wall, crossing my arms over my chest, “Jacob didn’t mean anything to me, Hades.”
“Yes, I know.”
“But, this Jasper...He is different. I don’t want to feel anything for him.” I looked up at him. “But I can’t help myself.”
“What about Hestia? I thought you were in love with her, and had given up on boys.” His tone was teasing, as though he already knew our plot.
“Don’t be stupid,” I scoffed. “Yes, Hestia and I are married and we’ve consummated, but I like men just as much as I did before.”
“Oh,” He nodded. “What really brings you here, Marius.”
“I hate it there,” I sighed, sinking down the wall to sit on the floor. “It’s bright and shiny, and has that still-new scent about it. The mortals are always asking me for things that I cannot responsibly give to them, and I am sick of being treated like their king or something. I just want to go back to the way that it was.”
“What do you mean?”
“I want to go back to being us. Just you and me, here alone, with the screaming cries of the dead surrounding us every moment of everyday.”
“You really want that?” He asked, getting up from the desk to stand in front of me.
“Of course I do.”
“I thought that you hated me,” He held out his hand, which I took, and he pulled me up from the floor. “Why put on such a charade if that’s the way that you feel.”
“You made me angry when you said we should try something new.”
“I said you should give it a chance. You’re the one that ended it completely. I was going to be content to share you.”
“Why should you have had to share me? I’m not yours to share.” I shook my head.
“Aren’t you?” He tilted his head to the side, his hands tightening around my wrist. “I thought we had already established a long time ago that you are a very valuable piece of property, Marius.”
“You’re just saying that, you don’t mean it.” I flushed red.
His smile was soft, “No, I don’t.” He brought one of my wrists to his lips. “Why don’t we just forget it? Say to hell with everyone and everything; we’ll stay here forever.”
“You always suggest that, and we have yet to actually do it.”
“That’s because you always have an excuse,” He scoffed. He pulled me closer, wrapping his arms around my waist. “Is this what you really want, Marius? To come back; be my little slave again?”
“I want you to be my master,” I confirmed. I leaned my head against his shoulder, closing my eyes to savor the warmth of his body pressed against mine. He felt so strong and familiar with his arms wrapped around me. “I…I have missed you. I thought I could live without you, but I truly cannot.” I looked up at him. “Will you take me back, or am I to late?”
He lifted his hand to brush my hair away from my face, “Marius…I don’t know.” I felt my face fall. “It hasn’t been that long, I don’t want to hurt anyone else.”
I lowered my head to his shoulder again, “You mean you do not want to hurt Thanatos, am I right? He is important to you.”
“He is,” Hades nodded. “I love him.”
I felt the tears prickle at the back of my eyes, “I understand.”
“Marius,” He lifted my chin. “I love you, I do. I want you, I’ve waited for this moment, but…I love Thanatos too. Can you accept that?”
“I do not understand,” I shook my head. “What do you want from me?”
“I want you to be one of my lovers, keeping in mind that I have another.”
“You want me to share you with him.”
“I’m not asking you to have group sex, Marius. I want you to respect that I love him almost as much as I love you –you come first, you always have. But I need him. He’s a part of my life now.”
I shook my head, “I do not think I can share you, Ma—Hades.” I stopped myself from calling him ‘that name’. The last thing I wanted him to know was that I still thought of him in that way. “And even if I was willing to, how would Thanatos react to that?”
“Thanatos knows how I feel about you. He also knows I’m a very sexual being. I don’t think that he would mind sharing, as you put it, if he knew it was with you. Besides, we spend long periods apart. It wouldn’t come as any surprise to him.”
“And would you expect us to be completely faithful to you?” I asked.
“That depends…are you going to stay here with me, or are you going to go back and keep your place on earth?”
“I…I want to come back here. I do not belong up there,” I shook my head. “I belong here with you.”
“Then I would want you to be faithful, but I couldn’t really reprimand you for sleeping with someone else.” He traced a finger across my jaw, raising my head again. “I don’t expect Thanatos to remain faithful. He has needs, and we can’t be together often enough to fulfill them.”
“This all seems a little backwards does it not?”
“You’re the one who came back, Marius. These are the terms and you can take them or leave them. You can have me, and know that I will be having someone else occasionally at the same time, or you go back to the way we’ve been these past thirty or so years, being miserable and avoiding each other.”
“Are you really miserable without me?”
“I am absolutely wretched without you.” His lips brushed mine, then fell against my cheek.
“You seemed pretty happy with Thanatos at the party,” I murmured, trying to ignore the way his hands slid underneath the hem of my shirt, brushing lightly over my skin. “You looked as if you were having a grand old time without me..”
“All for show, Marius; I was trying to make you jealous. Did it work?”
“I suppose in a way. I am here, aren’t I?”
“I thought you were here because you were afraid you were starting to feel something for someone else. Why are you so afraid of emotion all of a sudden, Marius? It seems like, since you left you hate to allow yourself to love.”
“I think you allow yourself to love too easily –I wasn’t even gone two years before you fell into this affair with Thanatos.”
“Hmm,” He nodded. “But I don’t have a problem being in love, Marius.”
“I was in love, I didn’t need to replace you.”
“Why do you keep thinking that Thanatos was a replacement for you, Marius? He wasn’t –the two of you are completely different.” He shook his head, “I love you because you are kind, gentle, sweet, shy… I love him because he isn’t you –he doesn’t need me to survive, he’s self-sufficient.”
“You love me because I am needy then.”
“Yes, I love you because you’ve always needed me, needed a strong guiding hand to tell you what to do.” His mouth found mine again, his time his tongue pressing past my lips introducing that familiar taste of wine and pomegranates to my mouth. I couldn’t suppress the moan that escaped my throat. It was completely true, and I couldn’t deny it –I needed him to order me around, to be my Master.
My arms went around his neck, and I pulled his ear to my lips, “Fuck me –punish me for everything I’ve done wrong.”
“Marius—” He started to protest, but I insisted.
“Please, I want you to. I have tried to discipline myself, but it is not the same. I need you to do it. Use me.” I looked up at him. “Please?”
“Marius, I don’t need to punish you. You haven’t done anything wrong.”
“Then do it anyway, do it because I asked you to.” My arms tightened around his neck, and he lifted me up by my hips, wrapping my legs around his waist.
“You are becoming a little masochist, aren’t you?” He teased, nuzzling against my neck before shrugging, “okay, if it will make you feel better.”
He carried me to the bed, tossing down me uncouthly. He pushed me back into the mattress. His hands carefully undid the buttons of my shirt at first before he sighed, and simply tore the fabric away. I fought the urge to protest as the torn bits of fabric were cast aside. His mouth was warm against my skin. His lips first brushed my collar and then made a trail down the center of my torso. Finally he pressed them to mine again for a moment. His tongue was gentle, lapping against my closed mouth. I turned my face away, and he grunted. His head lay against my shoulder, and he lay down half against me, half on top of me.
“What’s wrong, Marius?” His fingers brushed my forehead.
“I don’t feel it.” I whispered.
“Feel what?”
I took his hand from my face, leading it down to my stomach, “when I made love to you, my stomach used to tighten and sink, and it was always exciting. I wanted it, I was starved for it. I…” I shook my head. “I don’t feel it.”
He smiled, “Marius, it’s OK.”
“No, it isn’t! I love you! Why don’t I want you? Why don’t I need you?” My head whipped to look at him, and knocked heads with him. He grunted again, rubbing his forehead, and rolling partially away.
“Marius, relax…you’re…you’re growing up.”
“What are you talking about?” I bit. “I am immortal. I do not grow up. I died when I was 20, and that is the end of that.”
“Marius, how old are you?”
“I just told you, twenty!”
“No, Marius. You’ve existed for centuries…millennia. You spent most of those years with me, in love with me. You still love me, Marius.” He assured me. “Just like I still love you.” He rolled back, pressing our foreheads together. “We can make love, and you won’t feel that same sharp intake you used to, but it doesn’t mean that you don’t love me.”
“But I want to feel it. I felt it earlier, when I was with Jasper. Why don’t I feel it now?”
“I don’t know. We’ve spent nearly…what, fifty years apart? I know, that’ not even a fraction of our time together, but you’ve experience different people, different things.”
“I don’t want to go back there,” I hid my face against his chest.
“You have to,” he chided. “It’s your job.”
I sighed, “I don’t want to want Jasper. He’s going to die, just like the rest of them, and then I’ll have to find someone else.”
“And maybe there will be another Jasper…another mortal who makes you feel like I did. Makes you feel like Jasper does. Or maybe after Jasper dies, you’ll get those feelings in the pit of your stomach back for me.” His hand pressed against my stomach, and he felt cold against my warmth.
“I should leave,” I sighed.
“You don’t have to. It’s not morning yet. Why don’t you stay here with me tonight?” He offered.
“No…if I don’t leave now, I won’t unless you drag me kicking and screaming.” I sighed, moving away from his hands to sit on the edge of the bed. I covered my face in my hands for a moment, just breathing. “…Can I come back?”
“Marius, you can come here whenever you want. I was never barricading you.”
“What about Thanatos? What if you’re with him if I come?”
He smiled, moving across the bed to wrap his arms around my chest, “Marius, you will always come before Thanatos. Even if we’re fucking like rabbits, I will take the time to take care of you.”
I scoffed. I didn’t want to picture my master and his new lover fucking like any kind of animal. His lips pressed under my ear, “I love you Marius. I always will…and you’ll always love me. Even if you don’t feel that same spark when we touch.”
“I don’t understand these emotions,” I cursed. “I want to feel more for you then adoration! I want that lust back!”
“Lust isn’t meant to last forever, Marius.” He assured me, and I could feel myself remaining rigid at the sound of my name on his tongue, where I used to melt. Even calling Master wasn’t going to help me. “Come back when you need me.”
I stood up, his arms falling away from me, “I don’t like that you’re sleeping with Thanatos.”
He smiled, “You don’t really have much of a say in who I sleep with though, now do you?”
“I know, but I just wanted you to know that I don’t like it.”
“I know,” He nodded. “Just like I didn’t care for you sleeping with Jacob…who is very happy here by the way.”
“He is here?”
“Yes, I offered him a place in the castle. He is currently on laundry duty with James. Did you want to see him?”
“No,” I shook my head. “I didn’t feel the spark with him. I meant it when I said I didn’t love him.”
Hades smiled again, “Why don’t you go…before I won’t let you. Don’t forget your shirt.” He motioned to the scrap of fabric that was left of my shirt.
“Master?” I was at the door, the white fabric wrapped tightly in my hands.
“Yes?”
“I’ll be back…when I get that spark again.”

Life Through Lenses (Second Try)

(I re-wrote this because I didn't like it the first time)

Life Through Lenses

Kissing is a funny thing. It’s even funnier when you factor in that my kissing-partner and I are sitting in the freezing cold of a mid-summer storm over-cast, with my sister watching on bemusedly with a camcorder. Oh yeah, and the fact that we’re both guys. That’s a little funny too…but not the ha-ha way, but in the “uh…yeah” kind of funny way.
I suppose I should explain. Because right now you’re thinking, “Oh god, this kid is a homo, argh.” But I’m seriously not. At least, I don’t think I am. I’m at the adolescent stage where I am kind of willing to try and experience new things. But Ben isn’t. He’s waaaaaay past that. He’s full-fledged gay…well, maybe not “full-fledged”. I’m pretty sure he’s still a virgin, but he is well aware of what turns him on, and that thing is boys. Not boys, but men, really. He’s tried to explain to me what it is that turns him on about guys, but after a few minutes I can’t hear anymore and start to tune him out. I’m sorry, I’m already rambling, and not explaining very well at all.
Anyway, as I said, I’m not really gay. So why am I kissing my best friend, Ben, of some ten-odd years? Well, we’re making a movie. Hence my sister, Becca, recording all of this. We have done this every summer since the 8th grade when my Mom (rest her soul) gave me my first camcorder for my birthday. This summer is a little different though. Becca, who is usually my starlet, refused to act for me. She said she had better things to do (and yet she is willing to play camera-person? Whatever, Becca. Whatever), and wouldn’t star for me. Sooooo, Ben had a script; a little unorthodox script, even for us.
Our previous movies had been something of my own writing. Basically, I’ve been using the tragedy of my Mom’s death for inspiration for far too long. Ben wanted to do something fresh. We tried for a little while to get new actors, but as it turns out…Ben and I don’t really have many other friends. So, we ended up conning (well, she volunteered actually) Becca into playing camera man, while I continued to direct, and Ben was my main actor, while I played the supporting role.
We’re almost done filming. We’re on the last minute of the film actually… All we have to do is lean in and plant one on each other. But as I said…kissing is a funny thing.
“Oh my god Riley; just fucking kiss me,” Ben was starting to get frustrated. We had gone through this about six times already. Every time I looked back at what Becca had shot, I shook my head. I knew this was my fault. I wasn’t feeling the kiss. These characters were supposed to be starting a brand new romance. Shifting from the best friends role to that of lovers. Or at least boyfriends. And, I didn’t have anything to compare that with…Ben and I weren’t like that, and I hadn’t really dated much. Ben dated more girls then I did lately, what with his Mom not believing he was gay.
“I’m sorry,” I sighed. “I just don’t get it!”
“What is there to get?” Ben sighed, shaking his head. “It is fucking cold out side, I am so totally ready to tell you to fuck yourself and leave. Why do you have to be such a damn perfectionist?”
“Ben, this is the last scene of our movie! This is going to like…make or break the movie!”
“What are you talking about? No one is going to see this movie but the three of us!” Ben argued.
“You don’t know that! If it’s really good, maybe I’ll send it out for a contest, or post it on the internet!”
“You post this on the internet and I will be so pissed.”
I got up, stretching my back. My butt was sore from sitting on the fallen tree in the clearing of Jack Henson’s pasture. Behind us, there were a couple of cows grazing moodily, staring as us as though we had like “stolen their spot” or something.
“Maybe we should call it a day?” Becca suggested, “This camera is getting heavy.”
“No, no…one more time.” I shook my head, sitting back down. “If we don’t get it this time, we can call it a day. Lets try and get one more try in before it rains though.”
I took a deep breath. I knew what I wanted to see in this scene. I had to get into that mind-over-matter frame of mind. Yeah, I was kissing Ben, but he wasn’t really Ben. And I wasn’t really Riley. We were two unnamed people, who were just realizing for the first time that we loved the other, and they felt the same way.
The lines went easily, and I hesitated for a moment. Mind over fucking matter, Riley! I reminded myself. As though I were another person, my hands came up to Ben’s face, and I pulled him forward and kissed him. He seemed surprised, and his hands came up to rest on my wrists. Becca coughed. We had held on for a little longer then necessary. I turned red, and pulled my hands away from Ben’s face, getting back up from the tree.
“So, how’d it look?”
“Good,” Becca nodded. She handed off the camera to me, flexing her arm. “That thing is heavy. Are we done for the day?”
I nodded, shutting the camera off without even looking. I could still feel Ben’s mouth on mine, and kind of freaked me out, “Yeah, lets get out of here.” I packed the camera up in bag, and swung it over my shoulder.
Ben stretched as he got up from the tree, “You okay? You look kind of…weird.”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” I could feel my face flush again. “I think I’m going to start editing tonight. You guys cool with that? Maybe we’ll have this done before Becca leaves next week.”
“Awesome.” Ben nodded. “You want me to stay home tonight then? Let you work your cinematic-magic?”
I shrugged. I wasn’t sure how I felt about sleeping in the same room with Ben now. Even though we had been doing so almost every night for the last two and a half months.
“Yeah, you can come over. It’s not a big deal.” We started walking towards the gate to head back into town. The walk back home wasn’t long, and Ben departed almost instantly, getting behind the wheel of his bright yellow mustang that was older then he was.
“You sure you’re OK?” Becca yawned, unlocking the front door. “I agree with Ben, you look a little peaked.”
“I’m fine,” I shook my head. “I just can’t believe I spent my day off from hell macking on Ben.”
“Yeah…I have no comment on that. Anyway, I better get ready for work, ‘cause unlike you, I actually do have to work today.” Becca rolled her eyes.
“K. See you later.” I disappeared into my lair, a.k.a. my bedroom, and unpacked my camera to start editing on my computer.
A couple of hours later, I heard the familiar rumble of my Dad’s truck parking in the driveway. I mentally groaned. Lately after work, he had been going out and getting drunk at the bar before meandering his way home after dark. I was relieved he had finally lain off telling me to quitting with my “stupid film shit” now that I had gotten a job at one of the local dives as a waiter.
The door leading from the outside to the kitchen slammed shut. I remained where I was. Let the Beast roam the house. He didn’t need to know where I was. Unfortunatly, he must have realized that I was home because he knocked a few minutes later.
“Riley, you in there?” Dad’s bark was worse then his bite, so to speak. He had a loud, booming kind of voice, that given the right tone would either impress or scare the pants off of you. When he spoke up at his job, foreman at one of the local factories, he never used to use a microphone or a foghorn. One shrill whistle, and a place in the center of the action and everyone could hear what he said. You never wanted to be to close when he opened his mouth.
“Yeah, what’s up? Doors open.” I tried to remain cordial, even though in my mind I was saying Go away, go away, go away.
The door swung open, and Dad filled the doorway with his broad shoulders, “Is there dinner?”
“Umm, I didn’t make anything ‘cause I wasn’t really that hungry, but I can if you want me too.” I offered, turning away from my computer. I didn’t really pay attention to what was on my screen. That was a mistake.
“What the hell is that?” Dad stepped into the room, turning my chair back so we were both facing the computer screen. “Is that you and Ben?”
“Oh, uh…we finished filming today.”
“So you kissed him? Are you two some kind of couple and you didn’t tell me?”
“No!” I insisted. “It’s just part of the movie –Ben wrote it.”
“I don’t care that your friend is a flaming fag, Riley. Don’t go showing this shit to anyone. I don’t want anyone thinking a son of mine is a fucking queer.” He pushed on my chair, sending me into my desk a little more roughly then he probably intended. He didn’t say anything has he straightened up. “I’m going out.” The door slammed behind me, and I breathed a sigh of relief.
Not long after the roar of Dad’s truck leaving the garage again, Ben’s mustang pulled up to the curb outside of the house. It wasn’t long before he was breathing down my neck as well. His hands were on my shoulders, which is something I probably should have been comfortable with by now, but today for some reason I wasn’t.
“Do you mind not leaning on me, Ben?” I asked, brushing his hands from my shoulders. “You’re kind of hindering my ability to point-and-click.”
“Oh, sorry man,” he backed away to sit on the edge of my double-bed. “So, I saw your Dad’s truck leaving as I was turning on the street. He looked kind of pissed.”
“Yeah…he thinks I’m gay.”
Ben looked amused, “Why?”
“He saw this,” I pulled up the still-frame of our kiss.
“Snap! We look hot!” Ben was up again, his breath warm against my neck. “Is the footage as good as the still?”
“Yeah, it’s a good shot. Becca, though her arm strength is apparently much to be desired, can hold a camera pretty steady.” I selected it to play, and we both watched the scene until the breakaway when Becca’s throat-clearing brought us back to attention. “I’ll have to edit it down, of course.”
“Yeah. It’s a little long. You got nervous and held on that long, or did you really like it that much?” Ben’s eyebrow rose, questioningly.
“Shut up!” I insisted, pushing him away from the back of my chair again. “Go sit down. Cripes.” He laughed, taking his seat on the bed again. He reached for the remote, and watched the news while I continued to edit.
Over the next few days, I noticed that Dad’s stays at home were getting longer and longer. He’d bring home a case of beer and drink in the living room, watching action flicks on cable rather then going out to the bar and watching the game. He also made inadvertent trips upstairs while Ben was over. I finally figured out what he was up to when he disrupted our game of Guitar Hero for the fourth time, when he mentioned his way out: “Why don’t we keep this door open, hm?”
At first Ben didn’t get it.
“Are you sure the noise isn’t going to bother you, Mr. Butters?” He wrinkled his eyebrows, which even I thought had to be the cutest facial expression ever seen on Ben. “I mean, this game gets pretty loud, we don’t want to disrupt your movie.”
“Not a problem,” Dad assured him.
After he was gone, I sighed and got up to shut the door, “Don’t you get it, Ben? He thinks we’re like sexing it up or something.”
“I hardly call video games with you a sexing opportunity, Riley.” Ben rolled his eyes. “I’m not even attracted to you. Ick.”
“…Thanks Ben, that helped my self-esteem so much.”
“I didn’t mean it that way, and you know it.” Ben shook his head, setting down the guitar after he had failed again. “Besides, why would your Dad think we were doing something up here? I mean, besides rockin’ it out.”
“I could say so many things to follow that up…” I shook my head. “Look, he’s obviously not OK with my movie, and now he think that the two of us are an item.”
“And I’m saying that you’re being ridiculous.”
“I am not being ridiculous, I am simply telling you that that is what his problem is.” I sat back down, and wasn’t surprised when there was a knock again a few minutes later.
“Yeah?” I actually got up to answer the door this time.
“Didn’t I ask you to keep the door open?”
I sighed, “Look Dad, I’m not really sure what your problem is. Ben and I are just trying to—”
“I just asked you to keep the door open. I didn’t ask for your life’s story, Riley.”
I held back the grumble, “Are you going to tell me what your real problem is, or are we just going to keep ignoring the fact that you’ve become a fag-hating alcoholic?”
My head had never turned so fast as it did when Dad’s hand connected with the side of my face. Behind me, Ben gasped a little. Dad may have been many things, but he had never hit his children before. Even I was a little surprised. Luckily, the redness of my cheek hid the blush that crept up my neck.
“Now say that again,” Dad dared me.
I looked up at him. I could play it cool. I could tell him what he wanted to hear –that I hadn’t said anything, that I would keep the door open like he asked. Or I could be the idiot that I was and repeat myself.
“I asked if we were ignoring the part about you becoming a fag-hating alcoholic.”
“You know, boy, I don’t know what pisses me off more. That you have the gall to use that kind of tone with me, or that you’re calling me an alcoholic.”
“Well you are!” I countered, “Becca and I have barely ever seen you for the last four years since Mom died because you’re wallowing in your own self pity at the bar. Now you think I’m gay and you want to make sure that Ben and I aren’t consummating anything. I’m not gay. We made a movie and I had to kiss him. Actors do it all of the time.” I was waiting for him to slap me again, to make me shut up, but I just kept going and he let me. “Between work and drinking, you aren’t there for either of us. Becca got a job just to stay out of the house. I got a job this summer just to make you shut up because I was tired of you nagging me about it all of the time about how I was never going to amount to anything as a film maker. You aren’t even making an effort anymore to be our father. You’re just this guy that lives in our house, and occasionally remembers to leave out some cash to buy groceries.”
“Is that really what you think?” He asked.
I took a moment before I nodded, “Yeah. That’s really what I think.”
I waited for him to hit me, yell at me, do something to show me how angry I had made him. I couldn’t even bring myself to look up into his face, but when I did I saw how rejected and lowly he looked. My face flushed even darker, and I felt bad for Ben, behind us, who had been watching the whole time.
Dad didn’t say much, just stepped out of the door way and back into the hall, “I’m going out.” He reached to pull the door closed, and I rested my forehead against it. His boots thudded heavily against the stairs, and it sounded like he was in a hurry to put some distance between the two of us.
“Where do you think he’s going?” Ben put his hands on my shoulders again, and for the first time in days, it didn’t feel weird to have him touch me.
“Probably to the bar to get wasted,” I shrugged. The truck rumbled to life outside of the window and the tires squealed as he peeled down the street.
Ben’s thumbs worked in a circular motion against my shoulder blades, “You’re all tense now.” It was weird again, and I pushed him away.
“Please, don’t touch me right now,” I hated that Ben was making me feel like the straight guy. Strong, silent, and making it a major no-no to male-male physical contact.
“Dude, I was just—“
“I know,” I stopped him. “Just not right now, okay? Maybe later.”
He sighed, stepping back from me with his hands raised, “Okay, fine. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel like a queer.”
“Don’t talk like that,” I sighed. “It’s not because you’re gay that I don’t want you touching me, Ben. You know I’m not like that.”
“But you are like that,” Ben shrugged. “The last couple of weeks, you tense up whenever I lean on you or so much as brush hands. If I hugged you right now, what would you do?”
My face, if possible, grew warmer and I admitted; “I’d probably push you away.”
“Exactly,” Ben shoved his hands into his pockets, leaning back on his heels. “And I know it’s probably just because of this problem with your Dad right now, but…if you’re going to keep treating me like the gay friend then I have to treat you like the straight friend. There isn’t an in-between when you’re like this. I want to make you feel better, but I can’t just do that with words, not when I’m dealing with you.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, furrowing my eyebrows.
“This is what I mean. I’m not good with words, Riley. Maybe that’s why I’m such a shit actor. When your Mom died, what did I do for you to make you feel better?”
I took a deep breath, remembering after Mom’s funeral, “You hugged me, listened to me cry…cried with me.”
“Exactly,” he nodded. “We say anything to each other through our mourning period. We don’t use words to get our feelings across to one another unless we’re mad. So, when you don’t let me touch you, I can’t let you know that everything is going to be OK.”
“You could just say ‘Everything is going to be OK’,” I raised an eyebrow.
“But would that mean anything to you?”
I shrugged, “Probably not.”
“Exactly…so, I’m going to let you relax and sleep alone tonight. I’m going to home, and you can think about your problems alone.”
“Wait…” I reached for him, catching his sleeve. “You don’t have to go.”
“Are you going to stop acting like a jackass?” He asked.
“Yes, I’m sorry.” I sighed. I leaned my head against his shoulder.
“Jeez,” He pushed on my forehead, holding me an arms length away. “You’re even gayer then I am.” He made me laugh, and I punched him in the arm as if to establish my manliness again.
“The movie is done…do you want to see it?” I asked, knowing that I wanted Ben to see it before we shared it with Becca.

A few mornings later, Becca was getting ready to leave. Dad had already said his goodbyes to her before heading to work. He had been avoiding me since our blow-up in front of Ben. She was going alone, and I was kind of scared for her, but I knew it would be silly for me to go along with her, even just to spend a few more hours with her.
“You are such a girl,” she laughed at me, closing the back of her small SUV. “I am going to college, Riley. It’s not like I’m going off to war and there is a possibility I won’t come back or something. I’ll be home at Thanksgiving.”
“I know,” I kicked one of her back tires.
“I’ll miss you too,” She moved to wrap her arms around me, but I pushed her away. “Riley, c’mon. What’s this really about?”
“You’re leaving me alone with him. You could have gone to any college you wanted around here, but you chose the one furthest away.” We were both fully aware that the “him” I was referring to was Dad. Drunken old Dad. “There are three colleges within fifty miles of home, Becca, and you could have applied to any of them, but you didn’t.”
“No,” She shook her head. “I didn’t.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. I don’t even know why I had opened my mouth. I could have played the part of the eager younger brother, glad to be rid of his sister. But it was to late now. I could make the socially acceptable jokes about visiting and keeping an eye out for hot co-eds for me, but I couldn’t now. It was too late.
“Well, you should get going.” I shoved my hands into my pockets.
“I don’t want to leave with you mad at me, Riley.”
“I’m not mad at you,” I sighed. “I’m irritated with you, and I feel let down by you, but…I’m not mad.”
“Look, I’m thought a long time about going to college closer to home, but I’m sick of being here, Riley. I need to move on, even just temporarily. You’re not the only person I’m leaving behind.”
We stood in silence, and I scuffed the toe of my shoe against the asphalt on the driveway.
“I’ll call when I get there.” She assured me, seeing that I wasn’t going to continue to complain about her leaving me with Dad.
“K,” I nodded. I stepped back away from her, wanting to put some space in between us. I wanted her to leave just as much as I wanted her to stay. Talking to her had become hard all of a sudden. We had said to much, and yet nothing at all.
“Well…I better go,” She opened the driver’s side door, and slid into the seat. I took another step back, as she pulled the door shut, and rolled down the window. The engine roared to life, and she pulled on her seatbelt, but didn’t throw it into drive yet. “Hey, Riley?”
“Yeah?” I asked. I took a step towards the vehicle.
“You’re not really mad at me anymore, are you?”
I shrugged, “No, I’m not mad at you anymore.”
“—Cause, I’m going like a thousand miles away from home, and if I think you’re still mad at me, I’m kind of going to feel like shit, and I’ll probably do crummy in school, and then I’ll flunk out.”
“Well in that case, yes I am totally pissed at you.” I stepped up to the truck, and leaned up to press a kiss to her cheek. “You’re fine, Becca. Have fun, make friends, and don’t forget about home.”
She reached up to brush the tears away from her eyes, “Shit, look what you did. I’m going now before I turn into a fucking fountain or something.” She reached down to shift into reverse.
“Bye, Becca.” I hoped to god that I wasn’t starting to tear up either. I shoved my hands back into my pockets and watched her back out of the driveway. I stood on the sidewalk, watching Becca’s back-bumper disappear towards the Interstate. Once she had vanished completely, it still took me a bit to actually get back into the house. Reaching up, I felt he wet-spots on my face. Shit. Well…at least Becca hadn’t seen.
The house seemed eerie and empty. Dad was at work, Becca was gone, and I had just quit the job that I loathed the day before. With a wide-open schedule, and a video camera in hand, I called up Ben on the kitchen telephone.
“Hey buddy, how do you feel about starting a new project? I’m thinking something real-life…heart-wrenching, but funny… Something along the lines of ‘Life Without Becca’.”
Ben’s laugh in my ear was a nice sound, “Sure, I’ll be right over.”
Yeah, Becca had left, and I had to deal with Dad on my own, but I had a feeling that this year wouldn’t be as bad as I thought it would be.