Eco-friendly Lips and Orange Skies

You Make Me Feel so Dizzy

 He stared into the sky. He stared and stared and stared from the roof of his car in the parking lot of the playground nearby. He puffed the desperate smoke out from between his lips and smiled softly. It looked like the smoke wanted to join the orange skies.

But the voice made him sit up straight and drop the cigarette from in between his lips instantly.

"I didn't know you smoked." That boy would be the death of him.

Simon jumped up and plopped himself on top of Bram's car, his golden retriever snuggled up in his arms. His blonde hair ruffled with the light breeze, the sky who couldn't decide on a color reflected against his light skin perfectly. He was wearing contacts for once, and his moon grey eyes have never been prettier.

He had it hard, didn't he?

"I don't bite my nails. My hands may be dirty, but at least I don't make them look ugly."

Simon puckered up his lips and pouted. "My hands do not look ugly."

He looked so goddamn adorable. "No, they don't. Your hands are very, very pretty hands."

Simon laughed at that. Bram wanted to hear that laugh all night. "There's no such thing as pretty hands."

Bram smiled. "No, I guess not."

They settled into silence. Bram was glad that Simon and he were close enough to be able to do this. To just sit and stare at each other, without having to move their mouths. They didn't feel the need to make small talk. It was logic, even if no one else saw it.

It was only then he realized Simon was only wearing a thin white t-shirt, his red flannel loosely hanging around his hips. He could only wonder how this boy didn't get goosebumps from the biting wind.

After the long pause mostly consisting of Bram spacing out watching Simon bite his bottom lip as he was lost in thought, he broke it.

"I think I'm going to get you a band shirt."

Simon hummed in confusion.

"You said that you never went to an Elliot Smith concert because he had died when you were young, and then never got a band shirt because you thought it would be disrespectful. I'm going to get you one anyway. You don't have to wear it, but just so you have it."

"That's... Thanks. That's cool of you." Simon had the biggest grin on his face.

Bram took out his box of cigarettes and pulled out two, lighting one and offering the other to Simon. "Do you want one?" He knew what Simon was going to say before he said it, but he could try.

He was surprised when Simon shrugged and took it from his hands. "I'm not lighting it though. And these better be eco-friendly."He slipped it between his rosy lips. "If you're going to kill yourself, don't bring Mother Earth down with you." The statement was particularly harsh, but the tone and face sent Bram's way were lighthearted and playful.

Bram gave him a wry smile. "Don't worry. I wouldn't dare defy His Royal Highness."

"'His Royal Highness'?" Simon's eyebrows raised.

Bram shrugged.

Another silence. "You never answered me though."

"What do you mean?"

"That you smoke. You never told me that."

Bram considered the different ways he could answer this question. "I can't say 'I smoke' at the lunch table now, can I?"

"I guess not."

Bram kind of wished they could stay like this forever. Just rambling about stupid things. Staring at Simon with moon-grey eyes and him not noticing and gently smiling the way he does when he doesn't know he's doing it.

Simon was staring back at him now. His eyes drooped as the sky began to darken, Bieber fast asleep beside him, and all Bram could think was kiss him, kiss him, kiss him.

Simon's lips tasted like strawberry chapstick. The cheap kind you could get at Walgreens, yet still had this lingering flavor that would make you want to eat the whole thing.

Simon didn't respond at first, his mind probably working slower than the usual slow due to getting tired but he eventually grazed his fingers against Bram's jaw before settling in the crook of his neck.

Simon twisted his body around and wrapped his legs around Bram's torso, tilting his head for a better angle. Simon Spier was kissing him back.

It was light at first. It was amazing; slow, soft and sweet, but the moment after Bram let go for a gasp of air Simon latched his mouth back onto his and it was so much more desperate now and what does this mean?

At some point Simon's hands wrapped around Brsm's neck. Bram let go at that, but couldn't help himself, and pecked Simon's lips. Again and again. Then one more time.

Simon giggled at that. Giggled. Could he get more endearing? "You taste like methanol. But not in a bad way."

"You taste like strawberries." He replied.

"But not in a bad way."

"You taste like strawberries in the best way possible," Bram reassured.

"Good." The corners of Simon's mouth twitched up.

Bram kissed every part of his face. His eyelids, his cheeks, his forehead, his nose, his chin- everywhere possible. This will never get old.

But the moment was ruined when Simon pulled back and brought his hand to his mouth. Bram swatted it away before he could bite at it. "What's wrong?"

Simon bit at his lip, taking a minute before responding. "What does this make us?" He asked quietly, looking scared of the possible answer.

They went into a tense silence. Bram didn't know how to respond, because he didn't know what Simon wanted. Of course, he'd take anything Simon gave him, but he didn't want this to be a one-time thing.

Finally, Bram said, "Whatever you want to be."

Simon looked at him with wide moon-grey eyes filled with wonder, as if seeing Bram for the first time.

Bram smiled and kissed his temple.

"Okay," Simon whispered.

~fin~