Ephram was shocked as he watched the news. They'd gotten out of school
early, sent home to their families. His father had been at the office,
hadn't heard, so Ephram picked up a confused Delia and Bright had driven
them home. Amy wasn't in school, off skipping. Delia had asked if it was a
holiday, and Ephram and Bright haltingly explained.
There were people, bad people, who wanted to hurt us. They didn't like us, because they were prejudiced, and they wanted to hurt us as badly as they could. All three of them went to the Brown house, had sat frozen in horror as the same planes flew into the same buildings over and over again and the death toll grew higher and higher and people covered in dust and blood cried out and families crawled through the trash looking for loved ones.
Bright watched as Ephram and Delia clung to each other and knew that that they knew that if their mother hadn't died, if their father hadn't gone crazy and moved them out here, they might have died. He watches as Ephram pets Delia's hair and tries to sooth her, while internally he suffocates like he was back in the city with dust filled air. Bright can't comfort them, so he tries to call Dr. Brown and asks him to come home.
Andy is the most distraught. He fears like Delia and suffocates like Ephram and wonders about the death toll like an adult.
Bright wonders about the oncoming war. He knows it's coming, and he's far enough from this horror to know that unspeakable ones are coming.
Ephram stays home the next few days, while Delia goes to school and pretends it didn't happen, that she doesn't know. Andy tries to contact his friends in the city and then goes to work, because he needs the routine and will go crazy without it.
Delia goes to Brittany's house after school and Andy works late. Bright comes over after school and sits with Ephram, sitting on his bed, and tries to get him to eat. Ephram mutters about going to help dig through the rubbish, helping in a hospital. Bright asks Andy about it, points out that they need doctors. Andy politely asks him to get the fuck out of his office, because he doesn't want to go back, and to stay the hell away from Ephram, because his son doesn't need that kind of trauma either.
That night, Bright goes to Ephram's house. The phone rings, and Bright answers it. It's Rose, and she says that she's coming by to drop off more food for their family. Bright thanks her. Ten minutes later, the phone rings again. Bright answers it, smiling to himself as he waits for his mother to ask what to bring for Bright.
It's not his mother.
It's a woman, teary, on the other end of the phone. She asks to speak to Andy, and Bright quietly says that he's not home. The woman chokes back a cry, and asks for Ephram. Bright quietly tells her that he's sleeping, for once, and can he take a message?
No, she says. He needs to wake up.
Bright asks her to hold, and goes into Ephram's room. Walking over abandoned mangas and comic books (he can't tell the difference) he shakes Ephram lightly and tells him that he needs to take a phone call.
Ephram sits up, and Bright puts a hand on his back and hands him the phone.
Ephram mumbles a hello, and suddenly his eyes widen. What? his eyes flash, even though he's silent. He sits for a moment, even after Bright can hear that the woman has stopped speaking. Tentatively, he takes the phone, and tells her that Ephram is fine, really, he just needs a moment. The woman on the other end sobs once more, and tearily tells him that it's nice that he's there for Ephram, because she was worried in a small town he wouldn't find anyone.
Bright isn't sure what she's talking about, but he thanks her and tells her that he hopes she finds peace from whatever is wrong.
The woman hangs up, and Ephram still doesn't speak.
Bright begins to pull him hand away, unsure, when Ephram turns and clings to him. He swings over and settles himself on Bright's lap, facing him. His tears cascade down his face and stain Bright's shirt, and he doesn't know what to do. So he slides his hands around Ephram's waist, cautious, and isn't sure if this is a dream or not, but it can't be, because in his dreams Ephram never cried.
Bright pulls him closer with one hand and wipes away tears with the other and finds that he's crying, too, for terrorists and victims and families and sons and daughters and father and most of all, selfishly, for Ephram, because he never wants to see him cry again.
Ephram clumsily grabs Bright's hand and pulls it away, kissing his face hard and pulling away to tug Bright's shirt over his head. Bright sobs, louder than Ephram, because he doesn't know what's happening but he's knows it can't and yet he can't stop it.
Ephram, he murmurs, what was it?
Josh, he bites out, angry now. He grinds against Bright, and Bright bites back a groan. Josh is dead. They found his body underneath a building, trampled. He got moved to a morgue in New Jersey, and his aunt found him yesterday.
God, Bright gasps, trying to stop Ephram's frenzied movements. Stop, he tries to yell, don't do this. Why would you do this?
Because he's dead, Ephram screams. He leans forward and bites Bright's shoulders, using his hands to force Bright still, because with Bright's shock and his anger he's three times as powerful and will do anything he wants. Josh is dead.
Who was he- Bright cuts off as Ephram's hands wander beneath his fly, undoing buttons and zippers with surprising speed. Who was Josh?
It doesn't matter! Ephram screams, pulling off his own shirt. He's dead, and it doesn't matter!
Bright forces Ephram off him, standing and dumping Ephram on the floor. It matters, he yells back. It matters to me, to know why you're doing this, and do you want to?
Ephram stares up at him, eyes welling up again. I need to, he says, and stands up and takes off his jeans with deliberate care and folds them and puts them on his dresser. He turns to Bright, standing half naked at the door and looking like he wants to run. Josh was my first, he says carelessly. He strides over to Bright.
He was my boyfriend, Bright, Ephram pants. Is that what you wanted to hear? He was my first kiss and my first time and my first fuck and he was the first to pound into me and drive me to oblivion, and he was my first love, when there was no one else, and I fucking loved him, Bright, but he's dead like everyone else except you and me, right now.
Bright is terrified, tries to touch Ephram's face. I'm sorry, he whispers.
Ephram smacks him across the face. Don't touch me, he screams. Don't! Either fuck me or leave, but don't pretend to care, because you don't.
Bright doesn't know what to do. He looks down between them, feels Ephram hard in his boxers against his hip, knows he's hard as well against Ephram's toned stomach and is disgusted by himself. Ephram, he mews softly.
No, Bright, Ephram bites out. Fuck me or leave. Now or never. I know you want to, I can feel you want to. Fuck me, Bright. I need you.
And hearing Ephram say those words, those three I-need-you words, are almost enough to make Bright come, but he knows it would be wrong but he's frozen. And Ephram is grinding against his leg like a dog, yelling fuck and shit and jesus, Bright, and Bright is frozen.
Ephram rests his hands against the door on either side of Bright's head and closes his eyes and shudders, and Bright feels a wet spot spreading against his jean leg and he becomes harder in his jeans, jeans still open and still on. Bright sobs to himself, because he's dirty in so many ways, now, and Ephram is broken and Bright took advantage.
I'm sorry, he whispers, but Ephram turns to him and breaks his heart.
Me too, Ephram laughs, eyes still red but now distant. I always wondered what it would be like to ride you.
Bright closes his eyes, hurt, and leans in to kiss Ephram lightly. I'm sorry, he whispers again.
Ephram pushes him away, opening the door and tossing him his shirt. I said fuck me or leave, Bright. Time's up on your choice.
Bright steps out the door into the dark house and realizes that the phone is still off the hook in Ephram's room, and he goes to sit in his car and he cries.
There were people, bad people, who wanted to hurt us. They didn't like us, because they were prejudiced, and they wanted to hurt us as badly as they could. All three of them went to the Brown house, had sat frozen in horror as the same planes flew into the same buildings over and over again and the death toll grew higher and higher and people covered in dust and blood cried out and families crawled through the trash looking for loved ones.
Bright watched as Ephram and Delia clung to each other and knew that that they knew that if their mother hadn't died, if their father hadn't gone crazy and moved them out here, they might have died. He watches as Ephram pets Delia's hair and tries to sooth her, while internally he suffocates like he was back in the city with dust filled air. Bright can't comfort them, so he tries to call Dr. Brown and asks him to come home.
Andy is the most distraught. He fears like Delia and suffocates like Ephram and wonders about the death toll like an adult.
Bright wonders about the oncoming war. He knows it's coming, and he's far enough from this horror to know that unspeakable ones are coming.
Ephram stays home the next few days, while Delia goes to school and pretends it didn't happen, that she doesn't know. Andy tries to contact his friends in the city and then goes to work, because he needs the routine and will go crazy without it.
Delia goes to Brittany's house after school and Andy works late. Bright comes over after school and sits with Ephram, sitting on his bed, and tries to get him to eat. Ephram mutters about going to help dig through the rubbish, helping in a hospital. Bright asks Andy about it, points out that they need doctors. Andy politely asks him to get the fuck out of his office, because he doesn't want to go back, and to stay the hell away from Ephram, because his son doesn't need that kind of trauma either.
That night, Bright goes to Ephram's house. The phone rings, and Bright answers it. It's Rose, and she says that she's coming by to drop off more food for their family. Bright thanks her. Ten minutes later, the phone rings again. Bright answers it, smiling to himself as he waits for his mother to ask what to bring for Bright.
It's not his mother.
It's a woman, teary, on the other end of the phone. She asks to speak to Andy, and Bright quietly says that he's not home. The woman chokes back a cry, and asks for Ephram. Bright quietly tells her that he's sleeping, for once, and can he take a message?
No, she says. He needs to wake up.
Bright asks her to hold, and goes into Ephram's room. Walking over abandoned mangas and comic books (he can't tell the difference) he shakes Ephram lightly and tells him that he needs to take a phone call.
Ephram sits up, and Bright puts a hand on his back and hands him the phone.
Ephram mumbles a hello, and suddenly his eyes widen. What? his eyes flash, even though he's silent. He sits for a moment, even after Bright can hear that the woman has stopped speaking. Tentatively, he takes the phone, and tells her that Ephram is fine, really, he just needs a moment. The woman on the other end sobs once more, and tearily tells him that it's nice that he's there for Ephram, because she was worried in a small town he wouldn't find anyone.
Bright isn't sure what she's talking about, but he thanks her and tells her that he hopes she finds peace from whatever is wrong.
The woman hangs up, and Ephram still doesn't speak.
Bright begins to pull him hand away, unsure, when Ephram turns and clings to him. He swings over and settles himself on Bright's lap, facing him. His tears cascade down his face and stain Bright's shirt, and he doesn't know what to do. So he slides his hands around Ephram's waist, cautious, and isn't sure if this is a dream or not, but it can't be, because in his dreams Ephram never cried.
Bright pulls him closer with one hand and wipes away tears with the other and finds that he's crying, too, for terrorists and victims and families and sons and daughters and father and most of all, selfishly, for Ephram, because he never wants to see him cry again.
Ephram clumsily grabs Bright's hand and pulls it away, kissing his face hard and pulling away to tug Bright's shirt over his head. Bright sobs, louder than Ephram, because he doesn't know what's happening but he's knows it can't and yet he can't stop it.
Ephram, he murmurs, what was it?
Josh, he bites out, angry now. He grinds against Bright, and Bright bites back a groan. Josh is dead. They found his body underneath a building, trampled. He got moved to a morgue in New Jersey, and his aunt found him yesterday.
God, Bright gasps, trying to stop Ephram's frenzied movements. Stop, he tries to yell, don't do this. Why would you do this?
Because he's dead, Ephram screams. He leans forward and bites Bright's shoulders, using his hands to force Bright still, because with Bright's shock and his anger he's three times as powerful and will do anything he wants. Josh is dead.
Who was he- Bright cuts off as Ephram's hands wander beneath his fly, undoing buttons and zippers with surprising speed. Who was Josh?
It doesn't matter! Ephram screams, pulling off his own shirt. He's dead, and it doesn't matter!
Bright forces Ephram off him, standing and dumping Ephram on the floor. It matters, he yells back. It matters to me, to know why you're doing this, and do you want to?
Ephram stares up at him, eyes welling up again. I need to, he says, and stands up and takes off his jeans with deliberate care and folds them and puts them on his dresser. He turns to Bright, standing half naked at the door and looking like he wants to run. Josh was my first, he says carelessly. He strides over to Bright.
He was my boyfriend, Bright, Ephram pants. Is that what you wanted to hear? He was my first kiss and my first time and my first fuck and he was the first to pound into me and drive me to oblivion, and he was my first love, when there was no one else, and I fucking loved him, Bright, but he's dead like everyone else except you and me, right now.
Bright is terrified, tries to touch Ephram's face. I'm sorry, he whispers.
Ephram smacks him across the face. Don't touch me, he screams. Don't! Either fuck me or leave, but don't pretend to care, because you don't.
Bright doesn't know what to do. He looks down between them, feels Ephram hard in his boxers against his hip, knows he's hard as well against Ephram's toned stomach and is disgusted by himself. Ephram, he mews softly.
No, Bright, Ephram bites out. Fuck me or leave. Now or never. I know you want to, I can feel you want to. Fuck me, Bright. I need you.
And hearing Ephram say those words, those three I-need-you words, are almost enough to make Bright come, but he knows it would be wrong but he's frozen. And Ephram is grinding against his leg like a dog, yelling fuck and shit and jesus, Bright, and Bright is frozen.
Ephram rests his hands against the door on either side of Bright's head and closes his eyes and shudders, and Bright feels a wet spot spreading against his jean leg and he becomes harder in his jeans, jeans still open and still on. Bright sobs to himself, because he's dirty in so many ways, now, and Ephram is broken and Bright took advantage.
I'm sorry, he whispers, but Ephram turns to him and breaks his heart.
Me too, Ephram laughs, eyes still red but now distant. I always wondered what it would be like to ride you.
Bright closes his eyes, hurt, and leans in to kiss Ephram lightly. I'm sorry, he whispers again.
Ephram pushes him away, opening the door and tossing him his shirt. I said fuck me or leave, Bright. Time's up on your choice.
Bright steps out the door into the dark house and realizes that the phone is still off the hook in Ephram's room, and he goes to sit in his car and he cries.