BOYS (boy×boy)

13. Holy kiss (end of first part)

The room is somber and serene, Cameron not bothering to turn the lights on, feeling content enough with the light of the moon penetrating the flowy white curtains and landing beside the shadows of the room.

It is also cold, the month of November already here since it's past midnight, a lot past. But the warmth of Genny's body is keeping Cameron warm, and the alcohol is keeping Genny warm. So none of them feel cold as Cameron helps the brunette towards the bed.

It's been a long night for both of them, and the only thing they wish is to lay down, both on different sides of Cameron's bed, drifting to sleep, then to wake up in the morning, still on opposite sides.

Genny had other plans though, his mind too cloudy for judgement.

And none of them have any idea of what is about to happen in the next half an hour. None of them have any idea that this night is about to change their lives forever.

Cameron grunts, placing Genny on the bed. As strong as Cameron is, carrying a person for so long is tiring.

"Damn, thick bitches make my life hell." He grunts and stretches his arms, trying to regain blood flow into them.

Genny curls into a ball on the bed, mumbling something, and in the next seconds he somehow ends up crawling off the bed and on the floor. His body drains off the bed like a slime before sploshing onto the floor.

Cameron looks down with an exhausted face.

He slides his hands under Genny's arms and lifts him onto the bed again, but it doesn't pass long until Genny takes slime form once again and slides onto the floor.

"Your sheets cold, floor warm." Genny mumbles and rubs his cheek onto the wooden floor.

"Yeah and dirty." Cameron states, not bothering to lift Genny again, knowing the brunette will just go back to the floor.

While Cameron is walking around the room, turning lights on, closing windows, trying to find clothes for Geno and organize things, Genny is swimming in a blurry mind, content that the hard surface underneath him is warm and that he can't feel any pain anymore.

He doesn't notice Cameron sighing and grunting, too tired after the long drive. He's too drunk to notice Cameron sliding onto the floor next to him, resting his back against the bed.

Genny is curled into a ball next to him, hugging the floor.

The brunette looks up through heavy lashes and blurred eyes.

The leather jacket is still straining against Cameron's chest, who is glistening with sweat under the moonlight. He obviously feels uncomfortable with the slippery material rubbing his bare arms, but he has no plans to remove it. At least he has a tank top underneath so it doesn't itch the skin of his chest too.

His makeup started to wear off, the eye-liner getting smudgy and the glitter on his cheekbones leaking down to his jaw.

"Still hot." Genny mumbles, staring at Cameron's face.

Cameron doesn't even bother to understand what the brunette said.

Instead, he lets his head fall back on the bed, his Adams apple popping as a drop of sweat slowly drips from his forehead down to his jawline.

"You really can't take alcohol well." Cameron says in a deep rugged voice that sounds like thunder in the silent night. He chuckles right after, reaching towards his back pocket to get the cigarette pack and the lighter.

"Your fault." Genny says, not stuttering and talking like a baby anymore, sign that he's not as drunk.

"How do you find a way to blame me for everything?" Cameron chuckles, placing a cigarette between his lips and then cupping it while holding the lighter to its tip, putting it on fire.