Chapter Track: Go It Alone – Beck
On Saturday, Edd's performance as Mad Scientist is sterling, and he wakes up on Sunday morning pleased. Having done his homework the day before, he opts to show up unannounced at Ed's house, where Sarah and Jimmy are canoodling on the couch upstairs, and Ed is down in his dank bedroom watching some cult scifi movie from the sixties.
Edd greets him with a cheerful, "Dogpile!" and leaps onto Ed's back, even though he's the only one there and he can't manage a dog-piling on his own. Besides, Ed is made of steel, it seems – he's a strong guy, one of the best on the school's wrestling team.
Still, Ed screams when Double D pounces on him.
"You scared me, Double D," he says, feeling over his buzz-cut blond hair.
"Sorry, Ed," he says, "What are you watching?"
"Barbarella," Ed answers, "She's real pretty, huh?"
Edd watches Jane Fonda cross the screen and agrees, "She is quite attractive. Hey, do you want to go get Eddy? We can stop by the candy shop and head to the arcade."
Ed grins a full, dopey grin and nods, flipping off the television with the remote at his side. He says, "You have so many good ideas, Double D."
Ed sticks his big feet into socks that Double D is not entirely sure are clean, and shoves his feet into his worn out, brown-around-the-edges sneakers. He doesn't bother to tie the laces, and Edd has to remind him to do it before they leave for Eddy's place.
Together, they sneak past Sarah and Jimmy, who are wrapped up in Sarah's flower-patterned blanket and seem to be in between whispering to each other and kissing. Ed makes a gross-out face at Double D when they pass him, sticking out his tongue and scrunching his nose, and Edd laughs quietly.
"Hey, you – you've been okay, right?" asks Ed, when they slip outside, onto his porch. It rained again last night, and the cul-de-sac still smells like the earthy bacteria that gives the world its after-storm aroma.
The question is an astute one, especially coming from Ed.
Edd hesitates and replies, "I've been all right, Ed. Why do you ask?"
"You haven't been smiley," responds Ed. He reaches over grabs at Edd's face. He presses Edd's lips up into a smile and says, "See, you're all – frowny."
"I might be a little stressed," Edd admits, "But I will soldier through, I'm sure. Are you okay?"
Ed grins again and says, "I read a real good Batman comic yesterday. It had Robin in it too, my favorite Robin."
Kevin likes Batman, Edd almost says, but instead says, "That's great."
"I know," Ed smiles. They head up the steps of Eddy's house and Ed rings the doorbell, shouting at Eddy that it's time to wake up and they're going out to have fun now. Eddy is a notoriously late sleeper, and with the stresses of their senior year, it seems only to have gotten worse.
When Eddy does answer the door a whole handful of minutes later, he's wearing a purple bathrobe and slippers. Shadows deck the undersides of his eyes. When Edd gives him a reproachful look, Eddy says, "Shut up, Double D. I had a late night. I'm makin' coffee, either of you guys want?"
"No thank you," Edd answers.
"Coffee is gross," Ed expresses.
"Suit yourselves," Eddy shrugs, and retreats back to the kitchen.
There, Ed and Double D find the source of Eddy's late night. Eddy throws them a warning glare as he slogs across the linoleum floor to the coffee maker, but Edd and Double D still exchange an uncomfortable glance.
Lee Kanker is sitting at Eddy's kitchen table, red curls wild and bushy, and clothing askew.
Edd almost says you're kidding, but thinks the better of it, and decides to lecture Eddy later.
"Cream in your coffee, my dear?" asks Eddy.
"Yes, baby," she says back, and makes a soft purring noise with her tongue.
Ed grimaces and announces, "I'm gonna wait outside, Eddy."
"I'll join you," Edd says. He and Ed make a hasty escape, and sit on the porch together. He whistles lowly and remarks, "Jesus, Mary and Joseph, what on earth was that? What is he thinking? Well, he isn't thinking, I can tell you that much."
Ed, in lieu of replying, slips his hand into the inside pocket of his army surplus jacket, and pulls out a beaten plastic bag that contains one thing – a single joint. He fishes deep in his holey jeans and dumps a handful of objects onto the porch beside him: a half-empty pack of Trident, two plastic army men, a tangled yo-yo, a balled up tissue, and his objective, a lighter.
"I told you smoking that fodder's an awful habit," Edd admonishes.
"I told you I don't care, Double D," Ed says back, and holds the joint between his teeth. He lights it, inhales, and sighs happily. Edd supposes he shouldn't deny a man his little pleasures, no matter how smelly or illegal they are. And perhaps he understands a little of why Ed is so fond of marijuana. His sister seems to run his life, and between that he barely has a grasp on their schoolwork.
In only a matter of ten minutes, Lee bursts from the front door and shoves them aside, hopping down the front steps and heading off in the direction of the trailer park. She whistles something tuneless as she goes. Edd can't tell if she's angry or just being herself.
Eddy follows soon after, now dressed in his average daywear, a pair of jeans and a button-up over a recently-laundered undershirt.
"I know what you're gonna say," Eddy starts, and zeroes in on the joint in Ed's grip, "Hey, can I get a hit of that?"
"Sure thing, Eddy," Ed says, and passes it over.
Eddy inhales off of the end of the joint and coughs a little before he returns it to Ed. He goes on, "Look guys, I fucked up. I got like, super drunk last night, and I dunno, she called me and I told her to come over and I sort of remember – parts of what happened next – "
"You slept with her, Eddy," Double D says.
"I slept with her," agrees Eddy, "She's fucking off her rocker, man. The only time she let go of me all morning was to answer the door, and I had to make some serious negotiations to do that."
"That's okay, Eddy," Ed soothes, and stands to pat Eddy on the shoulder, "I did second base with May."
"You did what?" Edd says. He looks from one to the other.
"I touched her boobs," Ed confesses, and sounds a little sad, "She never stops texting me now." To make his case, he hands Edd his phone. Clear as day, beside May's name, the number of texts reads 1,258.
"Well, Double D, while we're airing the skeletons out of the closet, you got anything you wanna confess?" Eddy asks, his smug smile fitted to his round face.
For a brief moment, Edd thinks that they might know. But after a few seconds of observation, he's certain that they're merely curious if anything eventful has occurred in his love life. Which, he suppose it has. But all this talk of closets and second base makes Edd's gag reflex work up. He thinks about maybe saying something about Kevin, but he knows that would be bad. He doesn't know that his friends would care that he likes boys, just that he's involved with the wrong boy.
So he says, "No, gentlemen. Nothing to report."
xxx
By noon on Sunday, Kevin already feels like he's dying. He opens his bedroom window to let in fresh air, and sticks his entire torso out of it just to feel like he isn't trapped in his own grungy room. The only thing in the entire joint that's clean is his damn fish tank, and he knows he isn't the one that did that.
But the day starts to work in his favor when he sees Nazz headed toward his place. She's wearing one of her usual quirky outfits, with (as she gets closer he can see) unicorn leggings under denim shorts, a black t-shirt that she's hacked to bits with the name of a band he doesn't know emblazoned right across the boob-region.
"Nazz," he calls, still halfway out his window, "I am so bored."
"Seriously, Kev? You just broke your leg. Seems pretty dumb to be hanging out the freaking window," she calls back up.
"Yolo," Kevin grunts back.
"Not for long, with that attitude," she laughs. Nazz disappears under his porch, and reappears behind him. She hauls him in by the back of his boxer shorts and sits next to him. She shifts her bag off of her shoulder and dumps the contents onto his Batman sheets.
"Aw, sweet," Kevin says.
Nazz's Wii is there, with Mario Kart, a six-pack of hard cider, and a family-sized bag of Cheetos.
"Shit, you're the best," he says, "I'm miserable, man. I want to be outside. I wanna ride my bike. I wanna throw a frisbee around or something, fuck."
"I know you do," she says, and she rubs his left shoulder, working her thumb into some of the kinks, "All right, lazy, I'm gonna hook my Wii up to the TV. And I'm gonna kick your ass at Mario Kart."
"Fuck you, you are not," Kevin shoots back.
But fifteen minutes later, Princess Peach (Nazz's favorite) is way ahead of him, and Kevin is holding up the behind, no matter how much he flails around in his effort to gain control of the game. He ends up flopped over Nazz's unicorn leggings, face smushed into his sheets in defeat.
"Ugh," he says, "Why do I suck at this?"
"You don't suck, I'm just good at it," Nazz replies.
"Let's take a cider break," he decides. He cracks Nazz's open for her on the edge of his bedside table, and opens his just the same, taking a long, grateful drink. That nice rainy smell is still coming in through his window – for a minute, Kevin feels okay. Sure, his leg is broken, but he's with his friend with alcoholic cider, Cheetos, and a clean fish tank. He's definitely been worse places before.
But he still feels like shit.
"Hey Nazz," he says softly.
"Yeah?"
"Can I talk to you about something?" he asks.
"You can talk to me about anything, stupid," she says, and nudges him with her shoulder.
Kevin gnaws on his lower lip and turns to look at her. He adds, "You gotta promise you're not gonna make fun of me."
"Why the hell would I do that?"
"I dunno," Kevin mutters, "'Cause I like boys. Boys and girls."
Nazz gives him a look and says, "Oh Kevin, I knew that."
"What do you mean, you knew that? I've never said a word until now," Kevin frowns.
"My gaydar is the finest in Peach Creek," she says.
"Fuck you," Kevin says, "Nu-uh."
"Yeah-huh," Nazz says back, "It would be less obvious if you didn't stare at dudes' asses like they're Thanksgiving dinner."
"I don't do that," Kevin protests.
"Yeah, you do," Nazz smiles back.
Kevin falls silent after that, and exhales through his nostrils. He casts his eyes away from Nazz, toward the wall, and says, "I've been messin' around with Double D."
"No shit?" Nazz says, "How the fuck did you manage that?"
"I dunno, Nazz, I'm all fucked up over liking dudes," he admits, and scratches the back of his neck, "If the guys on the team knew…"
"So what? It doesn't hurt them," she says, "Besides, good friends don't care about that stuff. And you still haven't answered how you got the Edd notch on your belt."
"He's not a notch," Kevin says, and turns red, "I mean. He's nice. He cleaned my fish tank. And he let me take off his shirt."
Nazz shifts up to stare at Kevin, "Are you for real? I don't think I've ever seen Double D without a shirt like, ever. He even wears one when he goes swimming."
"I know," Kevin says, "He – seems kind of bent out of shape about how he looks, for whatever reason."
"Why? He's cute."
"That's what I'm saying, dude," Kevin agrees, "But it's like he doesn't believe me."
Nazz's lips curl up into a smile. Her blue eyes crinkle at the corners and she says slyly, "You like him."
"I don't," Kevin says, "Our thing is just – just stuff. It's not like a relationship, or anything." But his face is red and his stomach is turning and his mouth is sour. He knows then that the words are lies on his tongue, that he – he's feeling things. He curls his toes in and clenches his fists and swallows the knot in his throat.
Oh. Oh fuck.
Maybe he does like Double D.
He likes Double D.
What in the hell is he supposed to do about that?
xxx
"You told Nazz?" Edd is stricken, and his gut churns with queasiness. He sits down next to Kevin, "Why did you do that? Nobody's supposed to know."
"Look, dude, she's my best friend," Kevin says, "It slipped out. I-I'd never come out to anybody but you. It was weird and I just said it. I don't know. I'm sorry, I guess."
Edd shakes his head and stares at his hands, where they're folded in his lap. The skin on his hands is dry from using too much hand sanitizer too often, and he has Band-Aids wrapped around some of his fingers from picking at his cuticles while he concentrates. He peels at one now, at the corner of his thumb. A spot of blood appears, and he sucks the end of his thumb to make it go away.
He sighs, "That's…all right. I don't think Nazz is the type of person to judge easily."
"So we're cool?" asks Kevin.
"Yeah," Edd says, but he still feels gross inside.
"Maybe I can make it up to you," Kevin says. He's chewing on his lip again. Nerves.
Edd glances over and lifts a brow.
"I could get you off."
"What?" Genuine surprise shakes Edd. He says, "Are you really ready for that?"
"I'm good," Kevin nods, "I mean, I ain't gonna lie, I got no fucking idea what I'm doing, but I can give it my best shot."
"I am not even going to bother addressing the grammatical horror of your sentence," Edd says.
"C'mon, don't change the subject," Kevin says.
"I don't get why you want to be intimate that badly," Edd goes on. He's pink, bright pink, and he can feel his body reacting to this conversation in a way that he really wishes that it wouldn't. This is unexpected. He doesn't know what to do or what to say. And it's not so much the touching as it is that the touching involves Kevin, and Kevin is…well, Kevin. He's handsome and smooth-talking and he wants to do this with Edd, of all people. Likely because Edd is the most convenient option – as far as Edd is aware, there are no other gay men that Kevin is acquainted with, least of all gay men he'd be comfortable experimenting with sexually.
Kevin leans over and kisses Edd.
This makes Edd feel strange. He isn't feeling any butterflies inside, as the cliché says, but something else entirely. A hunger of some kind. It doesn't feel nice, and it doesn't feel like wings fluttering inside him. It feels like his intestines have been replaced by coarse, knotted rope. Like he's standing to close to a fire – his skin is so hot he wants to shed it. Kevin's tongue presses differently this time, and his hand is underneath Edd's t-shirt.
And then Kevin backs off. His face is twisted up, like he can't believe what he's doing. Edd's eyes flick down, and he can clearly see an erection trapped underneath Kevin's sweatpants.
"If you don't, uh. Want me to touch you, can you. Tell me."
Edd is torn. He has a limited amount of sexual encounters to boast of, and none of them occurred with anybody he knew well. He's known Kevin since they were just kids.
It's starting to hurt to breathe. He's anxious. Oh no, not now. Don't panic now.
"Edd," Kevin says, and rests his hand over Edd's collarbone, "Double D. Breathe, man, c'mon."
"S-Sorry," Edd manages, "I know I said I'd help you. I just get so – panicked about being naked, I don't like it very much, I like clothes, they, um."
"There's nothing fucking wrong with the way you look," Kevin scowls, "You think my cock gets hard when it's convenient?"
"Well, yes," Edd says, still frozen to the spot, "It's fairly easy for men to become –"
"All right, all right," Kevin holds up a hand, "Let me lay this down for you, dickhead. There are boners, and then there are guilty boners. A lot a' the time, I get guilty boners when it comes to dudes. Makes me feel bad instead of good when all is said and done, yeah? But it's not like that, here. I know you, dude. I mean, we're not exactly friends but we're not not friends either."
"That's a double negative," Edd mutters.
"Whatever, Double Dork," Kevin shoots back, "The point is that I'm like, okay with you, or whatever. You get it? And you're not butt ugly like Eddy or anything, you're kinda good looking, you know."
"You are spitting out nonsense," Edd tells him.
"No, I'm fucking not," Kevin clenches and unclenches his fists, and then pushes Edd back so he's flat against the mattress. He kisses him harder than ever before, and bites down on Edd's lip. Edd whimpers before he can help it, and reaches up to grab at Kevin's broad shoulders.
Kevin's hands are on him. He runs his palms down Edd's chest through his shirt, and down and down, until he reaches Edd's jeans. He breaks their kiss and stares Edd straight in the eye, licking his lips before he strokes two gentle fingers down the length of Edd's erection.
"This a guilty boner, dork?"
Edd shakes his head.
"Didn't think so," Kevin says, "You want me to take care of it? I promise you don't have to take off any clothes." He leans down and nips at Edd's jaw, lips grazing against a thin layer of dark stubble.
"Okay," Edd nods.
Kevin's eyes see to darken at the consent, and he rubs his palm over Edd's cock through his jeans in long, agonizing strokes, before he unbuttons his fly. His fingers trace Edd through his underwear. Edd curls his toes and tries not to be loud. He muffles some obscene moan behind his hand.
"You are awful," Edd complains.
"Yeah, okay," Kevin says, and makes a face when he reaches into Edd's underwear. His fingers close around Edd's cock. Edd squeezes his eyes shut. He might actually be dying. The feeling of Kevin's hand on him, even working in clumsy strokes, even inhibited by the denim of his jeans, is lovely.
"Faster," Edd says, a little surprised at his own words. Kevin must be, too, because he cocks his head. Edd clears his throat and lifts his chin, "You heard me. I said go faster."
"Fuck, fine, calm your shit," Kevin says, but makes his best effort to quicken his pace.
Edd feels the build of climax approaching. He digs his nails into Kevin's shoulders and screws his eyes closed. His breath comes out of his nostrils hard and quick, and then it happens all at once – Edd orgasms in his pants and onto his abdomen. He shakes from the force of it and sinks back into Kevin's mattress.
And Kevin doesn't let go of him.
"You okay?"
"I'm sticky," Edd says at last, "Please clean me up."
Kevin laughs.
"Stop laughing at me," Edd says.
Kevin laughs harder, and extracts his hand. He wipes it on his sheets and snorts, "Yeah, hang on. Could take a second with my leg."
Kevin wheels around and grabs a pair of crutches from where they lean against a wall, and walks himself to the door and out. When he returns, he throws a wet wad of paper towels at Edd and says, "All yours, princess."
"You are infuriating," Edd snips back, but in the haze of having orgasmed he's much more pliable than usual.
"Bitch, bitch, bitch," Kevin shoots back, and then plops back down on the bed. He scratches a hand through his coppery hair and says, "So, uh. You need like. Some jeans or something."
Edd frowns and says, "Normally I'd be opposed to wearing another person's clothes…but you seem to do your laundry regularly. And I would prefer fresh clothes to these ones. Please. And also if I could have some privacy?"
Kevin hops across the room and opens up his dresser drawers. He lifts up a pair of neatly folded jeans and says, "See? Clean." before launching them across the room at Edd's head.
"Stop throwing things at me," Edd says, and lifts his middle finger.
Kevin just laughs.
xxx
Thank you once again for reading. Lots of love to every one of you!