Blood Pudding
Chris thinks that dating Josh would be different than being friends with Josh. He thinks it'd be make out sessions behind the bleachers, hand jobs on the way to school, some more condensed version of how Josh was with the rest of the student body. It's not.
It's quiet, more like they were as friends just more touchiness. It's chaste kisses between classes, it's waking up to 'good morning :)' text and holding hands underneath the lunch table. It's not what Chris is expecting because despite Josh Washington's expansive reputation, when it comes to actually dating he's painfully shy and considerate and it's weirding Chris out a bit. It's almost like Josh is-
"Nervous? That's so cute." Ashley coos, sitting on Chris' bed. She's in a white halter top and a pair of sweats that may or may not be his. Her hands are in his hair, idly braiding the longer strands together as he plays Bioshock 2. Cherry Glazerr plays softly from the phone in her lap. Chris sighs, a small smile on his face. It was cute, extremely.
"Is this the reason you've been so grumpy? Aren't getting laid enough?" Ashley giggles from above him.
"I've never even gotten laid." Chris reminds her, shooting a Houdini Splicer that appears from a crowd of flowers. His health is low, so is his ammo but Chris hasn't died in an hour and he doesn't plan on changing that.
"Surprised our lovely deflowering King hasn't swept you off to pound town yet."
"Bone Zone." Chris corrects, reloading.
Ashley clicks her teeth. "The good ole Bone Zone. At least you get to make out. Is he as good as they say?"
Chris squeezes the controller, huffing in embarrassment as he thinks about the total five times he's made out with Josh Washington. Considering the small number, Chris has been increasingly amazed at how much mush he can fully become when he's kissing Josh.
"Yeah." Chris confirms, definitely not blushing.
"Awe. How long have you two been together? Two weeks? Young love." Ashley sighs, smiling cheekily. Chris ignores her for his game, buying Adam from a slot machine. It's been weeks, weeks of vanilla, slow churning PG rated Josh Washington. They had even manage to keep it a secret as the entire school buzzed with Miss Peterson's scandalous disappearance. Her Russian boytoy was still here, in this shit town, while she was nowhere to be found. It was kind of sad.
Ashley tugs lightly on the ends of his hair, making a swoosh noise as she untangles a knot of pomade.
"You should YouTube this." She muses.
"I'm a junior in high school who does not have time for these child style games, Ashley." Chris snorts, earning a smack across the forehead. It startles Chris, accidentally reloading instead of shooting and he's staring up at the screen with wide eyes as he dies. He falls back against his bed with a groan.
"Oops." Ashley tilts over to look down at him, smiling softly. Chris glares up at her, cheeks puffed, and he's pouting. She boops his nose with her index finger. The sound of the window sliding open startles him, knocking his head into Ashley's hand and the noise he makes in response is enough to make him turn eight shades of red.
Josh is climbing through his window, a large navy beanie on his head, the dying end of a cigarette in his mouth. He grins widely at them, slipping inside with an unnatural grace and Chris can only stare in awe. He also may or may not be staring at Josh's ass when the other bends back out the window to drag a jacket through.
Ashley whistles. "Where did you get those jeans?"
Josh straightens, dropping his jacket to the floor. He rotates his waist, eying the tight denim wrapped around his legs with a frown.
"No idea. Han dragged me to the mall." Josh says with a shrug. He plops down beside Chris on the floor, flicking the cigarette into a nearby trash can.
"So Hantaro has forgiven you?"
"I had to do her chores for a week and write a letter. An actual formal apology and get that shit stamped and sealed by Bethany." Josh sighs in exasperation, taking Chris' controller from his hands. Chris frowns.
"Dude."
"I haven't played Bioshock in years. Chill, bro. What were you gays doing anyway?" Josh hits play.
Ashley pokes her head between them. "Discussing the sweet vanilla love you two have."
Chris almost punches her in retaliation but Josh sputters, face growing red. He gapes at Chris, appearing a bit betrayed.
"Dude."
"I didn't say anything." Chris holds up his hands. "She just knows things."
"Yes," Ashley agrees. "Like how I know you two are dating when everyone else, besides Sam and your sisters, think that you two have just gotten over your dumb teenage boy angst."
"I don't have angst." Chris mumbles.
Josh nods. "You do, bro. I've seen it."
"Oh and what about you? You're the angstiest out of all of us. We used to call you Smol Angst but here you are, sprouting limbs and shit."
"You sound kinda pissed, man." Josh says with a smirk. Chris folds his arms across his chest. He was. Probably. He's always been the taller one since middle school. No one gets fucking growth spurts in high school. Josh pats Chris' thigh, fingers lightly scratching at the top of his kneecap, making small 'aw' noises.
Chris is suddenly aware that he's not wearing pants of any kind, his boxers bunched up towards his torso and Josh's hand is still on his thigh, warm and smooth. He hears Ashley speaking in his ear, a fuzzy sort of noise against his subconscious, as he continues to stare at the hand on his thigh. Chris clears his throat, snatching the controller from Josh. He needs a distraction.
Josh gapes. "Bro!"
"Hey I'm poor let me have my poor people game." Chris bitches, resuming his paused game. Josh pouts from his side. Chris pointedly ignores it, face heating up.
"You guys are so adorable." Ashley giggles. She slides down from Chris' bed, collecting her bag and a couple of his shirts before heading towards the bedroom door. Chris barely manages to catch her ankle, eyes darting from the Big Daddy charging him on the screen to her. He hears the mechanical roar of his imminent death.
"Stop stealing my clothes. I need them."
Ashley raises an eyebrow at him. "Not today you don't. I'll bring 'em back tomorrow. They'll even smell like honey and not Pine Sol."
"You're still bitching about the Pine Sol." Chris groans.
"You use too much." Ashley informs him.
"My mom's dead, no one taught me how." Chris whines, straightening back up. His dad didn't know how to do laundry either. Google had saved them from an untimely death of buying clothes every time they needed clean ones. Ashley purses her lips at him in distaste. She bends down, lightly flicks his nose, blows a kiss at Josh and promptly leaves. Chris groans, slumping down on the floor as Josh laughs. He thinks Ashley's the only one to actually use his front door besides Sam. Even Emily has climbed through sometimes.
"She's so mean." Chris yawns, pushing up his glasses to wipe his eyes. He grunts when the hand on his thigh shifts, weight pressing into his skin and settling over him.
"You should get dressed." Josh tells him with a smile.
"Why? It's a Sunday. Who needs clothes?"
"Come on, man." Josh says insistently, placing his free hand on Chris' side. He starts shaking him insistently. Chris shoos him away, groaning as a headache settles against his left temple.
"We're having a movie night and I want you to come." Josh rises to his feet, dragging Chris up with him. "Please?"
"It must not be your turn." Chris snorts, slumping down on his bed. Based on Josh's frown, he'd say he hit the nail right one the head. Chris idly wonders which twin has full reign of the Washington Theater. He takes the clothes Josh hands him, slipping each article on with a yawn until he has to stand to tug on a pair of jeans. Chris adds two extra shirts because he can and Josh's look of annoyance is enough to keep him smug.
"What's wrong, baby doll?" Chris jokes.
Josh punches him, hard. "Let's go, assface."
Unsurprisingly Chris' dad isn't home, the descent downstairs and out the front door a quiet one. Josh rocks on his heel, watching Chris lock up.
"Why was Ashley here?"
Chris shrugs. "Something about her mom. You guys don't even ask to come over, you just show up. Out of the clouds come my asshole friends who wake me up early on Sunday and steal my clothes."
"It's kinda like a date." Josh informs him.
"You don't need to justify this. You're allowed to not call and show up." Chris says, moving Josh in the direction Chris' car. Josh goes along easily, hands in his pockets, and slouches against the passenger side of the car. Chris looks at him, one hand on the door handle.
"You okay?"
Josh shrugs, prying the door open. He plops down in the seat, Chris following suit.
"I didn't sleep very well."
Chris sticks the key in the ignition, cranking the car up. He turns to Josh, taking in the way the other stares down at his lap, arms folded over his stomach. It looks like Josh hasn't been sleeping at all if Chris stares long enough.
"Are you still having nightmares?"
Josh forces a smile. "I kinda don't want to talk about it."
Chris wonders how long Josh was going to evade the question. He'd say they'd talk about it later but would clam up at any instant Chris would casually bring it up. Chris nods, biting back a sigh. He eases out of the driveway, noting Josh's car parked in front of his house. Chris glances at Josh from the corner of his eye, watching the other squirm in the seat.
"Why didn't you call? I would've come over."
Josh shrugs. "Wanted to see you."
Chris tosses the AUX cable to Josh.
"Play your shit music."
"Thanks babe." Josh sings, plugging his phone in. He plays a song by Operation Ivy that Chris can't remember the name of but he does remember the first time Josh had ever played it. It was behind the bleachers at school, after Chris' second meltdown over his mom.
The drive is silent aside from the music playing on shuffle. Josh slips his hand into Chris' free one and leans against him with the softest sigh. There are dark veins beating along his temples, similar ones on the base of his throat. Chris wonders what's been going on but Josh will eventually tell him everything.
"It's fading." Josh says as if he notices Chris' constant glance.
"What is?"
"I don't know." Josh admits, burying his face into the sleeve of Chris' parka. "You think we're moving too slow?"
"Nah."
Josh shifts to look at him. "Are you sure? I.. I've never done this before but Yahoo said that I should just let things happen slowly."
Chris snickers quietly. "You consulted Yahoo on how to date someone? Yahoo? Really, Josh?"
"Well it's not like Hannah and Beth were any help. Beth's all 'just blow his mind and go from there, Jesus, Josh I raised you better than this' while Hannah is all 'wine and dine him, communicate boundaries'."
It's interesting, hearing Josh's impersonations of his sisters. His raspy voice can't go as high and his words run together but it's still surprisingly accurate. Josh looks at him expectantly. Chris realizes he should say something. He can make out the Washington house up the long road.
"Josh, it's not that big of a deal. None of this is. It's like we're friends but-"
"I can stick my hand in your pants."
Chris reddens. "Um, yeah. Or make out. Whatever. No big deal."
"So too slow?"
Chris shrugs. "Probably. Don't hold back on my account."
"You seem nervous, Cochise."
"I'm not the one who needed to consult Yahoo on this shit."
Josh lands a solid punch in the center of his arm, chuckling deeply. Chris parks where he usually does, closer to the hedges. He realizes no other cars are in the driveway.
"Where's your fam?"
Josh shrugs. "They were here when I left. Guess Beth went to get Sam. Han's bringing someone too. She wants to 'impress.'" He does air quotes. "So it's probably going to be a shitty movie."
Josh unbuckles his seatbelt, kicking the door open lazily. He climbs out, bouncing over to Chris' side before the other even fully closes the door.
"How would you impress someone?" Chris inquires, amused.
"I impress everyone without trying."
Chris rolls his eyes, following the oldest Washington up to the front door. He trails behind Josh, skin sticking to his clothes because it's fucking hot in here. Chris sheds two layers by the time they reach Josh's room, which is surprisingly clean. Sparkle clean.
"What the fuck happened?"
"Shut up, asshole. I clean sometimes." Josh says, toeing off his boots. He sweeps them to the side, climbing on top of his bed. "Did I tell you I bought a pipe? It's glass and looks like Clarissa Mickey's nipples."
"Who is that again?" Chris asks, folding his excess layers. He sets them on Josh's dresser.
"Prom queen. Last year. Has-" Josh gestures to his head with expressive hands. "Big ass blue hair."
It clicks. "I don't want to know why you have something like that. Or how you know. I don't care to know."
Josh laughs, a wide grin plastered on his face as he fishes inside his nightstand. He pulls out a small mason jar and the pipe. It's long and pointy, clear with a round base. Chris tries to compare it to any nipple he's ever seen.
He can't. But Josh is handing it to him with a seedy smile after, smoke expelling from his nostrils. Chris takes it, unsure when Josh actually packed and lit it.
It's hard to think around Josh. Harder than ever before because at least before Chris had to keep himself in check, had to make sure he'd never slip up. He's always had this constant bubble of awareness. What to say, how to word a sentence, stringing along lines and lines of bullshit in his mind until he makes Josh laugh.
But now it's out in the open, they're kinda dating and Josh knows and still laughs just as hard when he's high. Chris doesn't know if it's a good thing. Most of his ideas are bad. But Chris doesn't want to think about that.
He feels like actual sludge, all floaty feelings and light. His lips are sore, dry; body a bundle hole of nothingness.
Mostly because he's high and hungry and Josh is beside him, head lazing against his shoulder as the other drifts in and out of consciousness. There were voices in the hall but no ones told them to come down so they stay in Josh's room, Creep playing on Josh's tv. Josh is holding his wrist. He had told Chris that his new meds kept him weird, kept him pliant and quiet and turned the volume down in his brain to a light simmer. He doesn't like them. Chris could tell by how long it took Josh to swallow them around water.
"I need food." Chris says, moving to sit up.
Josh sighs from his side, placing a hand on his chest to keep him still. Chris doesn't move, staring intently at the hand on his chest, the hand that's moving to his side replaced shortly after by Josh's head.
"Josh."
Josh hums in response, face pressed into the curve of Chris' stomach. He slides cold hands underneath the last layer Chris is wearing, settling in his lap like a deformed blanket.
"Joooosh." Chris whines. He's not doing anything to change the state of events. If this was a normal situation he'd be nervous, he'd be whining a lot more because Josh is touching his touching his bare stomach with freezing fucking fingers. If he wasn't high, he'd be freaking out. Josh works his way up Chris torso, grinning impishly when he notices how red Chris is turning.
"I got something you can eat." Josh slurs, sounding sluggish as he straddles Chris' waist. He licks his lips obscenely, taking the ends of Chris' shirts in his hands and drags. Chris doesn't fight it, moderately impressed because he's wearing six shirts and a sweater, but he doesn't resist, just lets Josh pull and tug until his torso is bare.
"Lemme mark you up real fast."
"You should make me food."
"That's what Beth's for." Josh supplies, holding onto his boyfriend's hips. His face disappears into Chris' neck, smooth edges of teeth scraping along the skin. Chris shivers involuntarily. He feels warm and tingly and his thoughts aren't staying very coherent. Josh bites down, hard, smoothing his thumb along the skin as if in apology.
"But you're my boyfriend." Chris reminds him, earning a sharper nip under his chin. He paws at Josh's shoulder weakly, shuddering when the aching skin is sucked on. Chris worries his lower lip, awkwardly sliding his hands through Josh's soft hair as the other shifts around, marking him up. He takes a handful and gives it a light tug that's met with a sharp inhale.
"Oops." Chris giggles, repeating the action with a harder pull and Josh gasps against him, the hands on his hips tightening. Josh backs up, eyes heavy and clouded, tongue darting out to wet his lips. His pupils are narrow, thin slits that Chris can't fully pay attention to because Josh is staring down at him with such intensity it burns. Chris' hand slides down to Josh's shoulder, cupping the side of his neck gently. He leans forward, sitting up on his elbows. Josh closes the remaining distance.
A knock comes to Josh's closed bedroom door. Chris startles, shooting up and knocking into Josh's head. The other groans, falling back on his bed with a hand on his forehead. Chris scrambles to pull on one of his shirts as the doorknob twists open, haphazardly buttoning it up.
Beth opens the door, her cellphone in one hand. She's staring down at the message she's typing.
"I'm ordering pizza. You losers want anything?" Beth inquires, looking up. She takes in Chris' rumpled appearance, eyes locking on the fresh batch of hickeys on his neck. Her eyes narrow, pointedly shifting to Josh who blinks innocently. Her smirks reminds him of Sam.
Chris clears his throat. "Chicken wings."
"I'll have what he's having." Josh winks and Chris flushes. Beth nods slowly, a slimy smile climbing onto her face. She closes the door, the hard thud thud of her marching down the stairs fading into white noise.
"You've got a hard head, Cochise." Josh smirks, reaching for Chris again. He climbs over him, pushing at Chris' shoulder until he's lying back on the pillows. Chris glares up at him weakly, unable to stop the smile forming on his lips. He grasps at Josh's arms, bursting into a fit of giggles. Josh dips down, wedging a knee in between Chris' legs.
"I'm fucking hungry." Chris huffs and Josh snickers, kissing him more and more and Chris knows it's on purpose because Josh is smiling like a jackass and has him pinned to the bed.
"Hate you." Chris chuckles.
"Good thing your dick loves me." Josh muses, sliding a hand between them and pressing down on Chris' crotch. Chris blushes furiously, ignoring the pleased expression Josh wears.
"Josh."
"Hmmm?" Josh kitten licks his way back into Chris' mouth, bodies pressed together. His hand makes its way back under Chris' shirt.
"'M hungry, you dick."
"Gonna get my hand around yours, Cochise." Josh smirks, nimble fingers working on his jeans. Chris tries not to think of how easy it is for Josh to get him worked up. He moans softly, arching up into Josh's hot touch. His breath hitches when Josh slips a hand inside his jeans.
"Fuck me. You make the hottest sounds." Josh murmurs softly, palm pressing up into Chris' crotch. Chris blushes furiously, unaware he was making any sort of noise but he is, these needy, small pangs. It's not his fault. There is very little fabric between his dick and Josh's hand. Chris covers his face with shaky hands, embarrassed. Josh kisses the back of his hands with a smile, still stroking and fondling and moving.
"No hiding."
"This is embarras- ha! Duuuude." Chris whimpers weakly, heart rate spiking as Josh shifts his jeans down further. He sneaks a glance through the cracks of his fingers to see Josh staring at him intently, tongue poking out.
"C'mon, Cochise." Josh sucks one of Chris' fingers into his mouth, moist and hot. "Show me."
A fury of knocking comes to the bedroom door and Chris almost has a heart attack, hands smacking at Josh's shoulder to push him up. Josh's eyes narrow, lips pursed in annoyance. His gaze shifts from Chris, who is trying not to laugh at Josh's expression, to the closed door.
"What?!" Josh snaps, frowning.
"Pizza, asshole. Come down. We're watching a movie." Comes Hannah's voice and Chris assumes that's the only reason the door didn't burst open. Where Hannah was considerate, her twin was not. Chris thinks about Dad in a speedo, thinks about old people kissing. He sighs thankfully, feeling more level headed.
Josh is still looking at the door, nostrils flared and he seems genuinely pissed. Chris bumps Josh's chin with his head, earning a small exhale.
"I'm bummed, man. Almost got to see what your dick looked like." Josh mutters grumpily.
"It looks like a dick. I'm sure yahoo has the answer." Chris pushes at the other's shoulder until Josh is moving off him with a pout. He moves to the side, helping Chris fix himself with a raspy laugh. Chris punches him twice in the arm, sighing heavily when Josh kisses him in response.
"Jesus Christ, Josh, aren't you tired of kissing me?" His words hold no heat, no merit when he wants nothing more than to kiss Josh back.
"Noooope." Josh says, hopping off the bed with an amused look. He cracks open one of the windows, reaching for a worn pack of Marlboros that sit on the small ledge. Chris folds his arms across his chest, trying to settle down his rapidly moving mind. He feels more alert now, more himself but he wishes he didn't because he just catches himself staring at Josh as he hobbles onto the window ledge.
Josh catches his eye, lighting a cigarette with a slight recoil. His hand trembles but he continues, inhaling around a shaky flame.
"Starin' cause I'm hot?" Josh jokes.
"Yes." Chris says bluntly. Josh sputters, cigarette bobbing, and he's blushing. In reality he's staring because it's the second time he's seen Josh physically recoil while using a lighter and also Josh is ridiculously attractive. Chris slides off the bed, crossing the room in two easy steps. He takes Josh's cigarette from him. Chris ignores the tiny whine, grasping Josh's chin as he steals a hard kiss from the other. Josh sighs against him, eyes sliding closed.
Chris flicks the cigarette out the window, inching back.
"I'm not going down there alone."
Josh nods, grinning crookedly. "Yeah okay, Cochise. Two more?"
Chris obliges. Two kisses turns in five and soon Chris has Josh pressed against the hard crease in the window, hand gripping his thigh as Josh holds him close by the collar.
"You guys are sick."
Chris' head hits the window, groaning loudly as pain spread through him. He staggers back. Josh rolls his eyes.
"I can't hear you over your raging lesbian, Bethany." Josh responds, rising to his feet. He reaches for Chris, placing a soft kiss to the crown of his hair that leaves Chris' blushing. Beth scoffs from somewhere behind him.
"Come on, assholes."
They obey under her persistent gaze and soon they're joining a group of three downstairs. Sam isn't in a dress but she's in a long skirt in sandals that reminds Chris a lot of a witch that lives in the woods. Sam notices Chris' stare.
"It's Hannah's. Beth ripped my jeans."
Chris looks at Beth who seems more interested a portrait on the wall. Josh laughs loudly from beside him. Hannah's 'date' is not someone he recognizes but the guy seems polite enough ("Jake." "Chris." "Jesus, could you guys have a drier conversation?") even if he doesn't reach the level of attraction the Washington's had. Then again Chris didn't either.
Beth has to order another pizza because the first one is pretty much gone by the time Chris' hunger really catches up with him. Josh doesn't eat, or at least doesn't try to, turning his nose up at each slice Chris tries feed him. It's weird because Josh loved pizza, loved food in general but here he was, eyes red and unfocused, refusing food.
"Tryna watch your figure, Josh?" Beth jokes from across the counter and Josh gives a weak, bullshit excuse until Hannah's getting on him about not eating and how he needs to because of his meds. Only then, when Josh sees his sisters' growing concern does Josh eat a slice of pizza. It looks like a painful process.
"You pick a movie yet?" Sam asks Hannah, situated beside Jake, who adjusts his glasses.
"The Gift." Hannah responds easily. Josh perks up from beside Chris, the sickening color in his face fading slightly.
"That's not a bad movie." He comments, clearly impressed.
"It's not scary either." Hannah says and based on the relieved sigh Jake lets out, Chris assumes it's more for his benefit than theirs. They were all seasoned Bob Washington trial runs.
Josh rests an arm on Chris' shoulder, whispering softly. "Wanna sit in the back and make out?"
Chris nods, keeping his expression schooled so the others won't notice. Josh chuckles deep in his ear and Chris tries not to let it effect him.
"We claim middle row." Beth announces, hooking her arm in Sam's.
"Back." Josh adds, earning a few suspicious looks but no one mentions anything and the decision has been made with a relieved looking Hannah and a moderately nervous Jake who keeps stealing glances at her.
Josh handles the projector, Chris designated drink holder as Sam balances three bags of popcorn and an unnecessary bundle of cookie dough bites. Hannah seems concerned with something to do until Beth tells her to go sit with her 'sweetie pie honey bunch' which promptly makes her twin very red and very panicky.
"Jake seems nice." Josh says slumping down beside Chris. He doesn't look to good or maybe it's the lighting. Josh pushes the armrest up with his elbow, shrugging his way into Chris' space. Chris lifts his arm, warmth immediately pressing into his side. The movie begins with a slow orchestra, Chris' attention averted as Josh keeps fidgeting.
It continues on for a few more minutes until Josh is pushing himself up shakily, a hand braced on Chris' knee. He stumbles out the row and out the side door. Chris can faintly hear gagging. He sneaks a glance at the others, Beth and Sam pressed close, Hannah and Jake talking quietly. He rises up from his seat, slipping out into the main hall.
Josh is nowhere to be seen but the sounds of someone vomiting comes from the distance. Chris makes his way to the downstairs bathroom, passing the wide arch that leads to the kitchen. The retching gets louder the closer he gets. Chris hesitates, noticing a crack in the door. He peaks through.
Josh is bent over the toilet, hands braced on his knees. He's shaking, wet pants escaping his throat, eyes squeezed shut. Josh winces, lips pursing as a violent tremble works through him. Chris watches Josh clutch at his stomach, whimpering and he's vomiting again. This thick blackened sludge. It clatters into the toilet bowl like pine needles. Chris takes a step back, eyes widening.
"What the fuck?" He mutters under his breath, peaking back through. Josh is flushing the toilet, wiping his mouth furiously with the palm of his hand. He fumbles around in the cabinets, tugging out a toothbrush along with various cleaning supplies. Josh is trembling as he moves, gripping a Lysol bottle so tight it pops open.
Chris worries his bottom lip, frowning and he raises his hand to knock but stops short, heart pounding. He was seeing things. It was the only plausible explanation. Black vomit wasn't a thing. Black vomit that sounds like marbles in a bowl wasn't a thing either. Not to mention the unnatural way it flowed, like individual pieces of ripped paper.
Chris swallows hard, fiddling with the ends of his shirt. He crushes it in his hands, twisting nervously and it feels like his heart is going to burst out. Chris forces himself to breathe. 3, 2, 1. 1, 2, 3. Josh could be sick. He's on medication. Medications have side effects, this was a side effect. This was a side effect.
Chris squeezes his eyes shut, counting. He forces them open, taking in the detailed paintings on the wall, the long table sitting near the kitchen lined with small ornaments and vases filled with flowers. Chris stares at a barely noticeable spec on the wall. He can hear Josh's unsteady breathing.
The toilet flushes again. The sink cuts on followed by the hasty sound of a bristle on teeth. He waits until Josh is finished, waits until he sees Josh flossing with a dull, glassy expression that he lifts his hand and knocks. Josh glances at the door warily, a string of floss working between teeth. He must notice the crack, a fleeting look of panic on his face. Josh slowly pushes the door open.
Chris pretends to be yawning. "You okay, man?"
Josh turns away, staring down into the sink. He rubs his arm nervously. "Yeah, just didn't like the pizza. You... uh.. I'm sorry, bro. Were you waiting long?"
"No," Chris lies. "Just got here. Movies kinda dry."
He hasn't even gotten past the credits or the opening scene. He hasn't even seen a glimpse of what the movie is. Chris thinks Josh knows he's lying but the other just gives him a small, grateful smile. It warms his insides.
"Want me to wait?" Chris inquires softly.
Josh looks as if he wants to say no. He shifts from one foot to the other awkwardly. Chris reaches out, hesitating, before grasping Josh's forearm. He gives it a reassuring squeeze.
"That'd be nice." Josh answers quietly, moving away to continue his flossing. He rinses with a strong smelling mouth wash, swishing it around for what feels like hours as Chris stands there in the doorway, feeling afraid and nervous but Josh smiles at him when he's done, tugging him into the freshly cleaned, cherry smelling bathroom for a kiss that doesn't taste like vomit or anything sour and evil.
Just Josh.