No Underwears

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The room was dark but for the little lamp on Zach's nightstand when Arnold shut the door behind him and waited.

"Library?"

"I was looking at those travel books again."

"Really?" Zach didn't sound amused.

Arnold licked his lips from where he stood, still right by the door. "Asia seems pretty."

"Does it? Did you get the book with you?"

Arnold waved the book in the air lamely.

Zach sat up in bed. "Well, I can't see it from all the way over here."

"Right." Arnold awkwardly walked to Zach's bed, who made some room on his mattress.

Shoulders pressed together and with barely any light cast their way, Arnold flipped the pages of his book until he landed on one that said "Asia" in a font bolder than the others on the page.

Zach took the book from him, eyes scanning over the page before skipping off to the next.

"India, then?" His voice was no longer rough. He had noticed the fresh crease on the corner of the page.

Arnold felt the usual embarrassment settle on his skin, heavy, red, and obvious even in semi-darkness. "It sounds adventurous."

"I never took you for the adventurous type." Zach didn't know what he was doing, or why he was saying things the way he was saying them. Why he sounded so bitter and insincere.

Arnold scratched behind his ear. "I would like to be."

Even in the dark, Zach could see the flush on his friend's skin. It was something he'd always noticed, yet no matter how much he tried, he could never figure out what triggered them.

"You should go someday," Zach said, still turning the pages of the library book. Over, and over, his eyes barely taking in anything from page to page.

"Do you think I can?"

Zach hadn't meant to say it. "With your money? Sure."

He instantly felt Arnold stiffen beside him, yet neither of them said a word.

They could hear each other breathing by that point, it wasn't difficult to pinpoint. Everything was still. It was quiet. The entire school building seemed to have frozen in place, in time, just for that night.

It usually felt that way, Zach realized, whenever he was with Arnold in the middle of the night. When he'd just come back from another look around the library after it was supposed to be locked shut for the night, eyes ablaze with newfound information.

Zach enjoyed seeing that part of Arnold. When Arnold looked alive, and not beaten down and degraded by the other boys. He thought it made him look more real. He could talk to him then, just ask a simple question, and the words would come spilling out of Arnold's mouth, and all he had to do was sit back and listen.

He didn't want to throw that feeling away. Not now. Not when the light in Arnold's eyes was already fading.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled.

Perhaps he'd said it a few seconds late, but Arnold had always been the forgiving type.

"It's okay."

Zach handed him his book back. "Tell me more about India."

Arnold told him. Everything he read on the pages of his borrowed book (because Arnold never stole them, he just put the books back the next time he snuck off and prayed that no one was looking for them). He voiced his wishes; of tasting exotic fruits and treading through jungles with only a bag slung over his shoulder.

Then he wanted to write it all down, probably in one of the leather bound journals his mother bought him but he never used. He wanted to buy a camera and take pictures of tigers and other animals, watch them develop into film, have them printed, and then tuck them into the pages of whatever book he was reading at the time.

He was blushing again, by the end of his rant, running his fingers through his hair. "It's a silly dream."

"I don't think it is."

Arnold leaned heavily against Zach's pillow.

"Will you come with me?"

Zach wished he could learn how to breathe. Properly. Just once. "You want me to?"

"Yes."

"I wouldn't mind. I'd like to take a few pictures of my own."

Arnold smiled down at his book and set it aside. He then slid out of Zach's bed and proceeded to get ready for bed.

Zach didn't turn around like he usually did, the burning in his chest slowly ebbing away as Arnold slid his clothes off. His skin pale in the darkness but almost glowing. His pants dropped.

Then his underwear, and Zach felt the world tip to the side as his face burned with shame and he quickly turned around.

He didn't know that Arnold preferred sleeping without his underwear. He wouldn't have looked if he'd known.

Maybe.

Zach twisted back around, quietly, just as Arnold slipped under his own separate covers.

Their eyes met.

Arnold cowered behind his blanket with a shiver. "What?"

Zach wanted to say something. Maybe something smart. Something about India. A new camera. Something.

"Do you want me to keep the lights on?"

"No." Arnold emitted a yawn. "I'm done for the night."

"Goodnight." Zach clicked the lamp off just as Arnold mumbled something back.

Then he lay staring at his ceiling, wondering when exactly, had his pants grown tight.

I have nothing to say because my life is not interesting enough. Yay.

Thanks for reading!

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