I really like this chapter but I don't have a lot to say about it? It's summer now so I should be better about updating due to unlimited free time. Sorry about the delay, and my generally dismal update schedule for the past year. Which, wow, it's been almost a year since I started writing this. Weird.
"You're different. Dunno if I like it."
It was Wednesday, and under the guise of working on a history project, Toki was sitting at Nathan's bedroom window (having dragged his computer chair over) and looking at the garden gnomes lining the side of Nathan's neighbor's house. The college boys next door appeared to collect them, a variety of lawn ornaments in a neat line disappearing into the backyard; throughout the years Toki had seen one of the guys that lived there place a new one down every few weeks or so. It was just Toki and Pickles in the room then, Murderface out with Dick and Nathan having left to get snacks. Nachos, particularly; everybody had been in a nachos sort of mood. Pickles was sitting on the edge of the bed, one hand holding a fist of comforter and the other the neck of a bottle of vodka, knotting his feet in the part of the comforter hanging over the bed.
Toki shrugged and put his elbow on the windowsill and head in his hand. It was still hot, the transition into November not helping in the slightest, but the window was open and a slight breeze wafted past. It felt like summer though it was fall and Toki quickly lost track of what Pickles had said to him as he swam in his thoughts, smiling to himself. He remained like that until he felt a hand on his shoulder and the smell of cheap alcohol infiltrated his happy haze. He turned his head to see Pickles taking a long swig from his bottle of vodka, remove it from his lips and wipe his mouth with the back of his hand before throwing the empty bottle out the window and tightening his grip on Toki. "Seriously, douchebag. It's been, what, four days? And we haven't had an actual conversation with you."
Toki shrugged once again and returned his head to his hand, twisting his hair around with the other. "I'm mirthful," he said. The slight breeze twisted down the street and Toki could practically see the airy swirls of its essence as he watched deadening leaves rustle. He sighed, not from an area of stress and strain but from one of comfort and complacency.
Pickles patted him on the shoulder. "What a word," he said. "What a world." For a Wednesday afternoon Pickles was quite drunk. He had swept his dreadlocks into a ponytail behind his head and swaggered his way over to Nathan's closet, in which there was a mirror. He preened and patted his face, turned his head to look at his neck. "What if I got gauges," he said, tugging on an earlobe, "or a tattoo of Nathan's face on my ass. Right cheek." He smacked his ass, a hard sound reverberating throughout the room.
Toki made a vague hand motion and continued to look out the window. Two houses down the street an older-not elderly, but nearing retirement-couple was relaxing on their porch, the woman wearing a sun visor with a frilly drink in her hand, the man clad in sensible chinos and smoking a cigar. Toki wondered what the fuck they were doing, then let those thoughts disappear, feeling happy for these people instead. That was weird, even to him, and he crinkled his nose at himself.
"I think I'm going to jump out the window," Pickles said, continuing to preen in the mirror. He inspected his (stained, but otherwise okay) teeth. "Or maybe-goddamit Toki, you are not allowed to stop being friends with us just because you're getting laid by some Swedish douchebag guitar god!" Pickles turned from the mirror and threw his arms in the air. His speech was slurred, words slanting into each other and accent thick, but he made his point.
"He is very good at guitar," Toki said. Pickles groaned. He crumpled to the ground where he stood and began to beat his head against the floor. Toki continued to look out the window.
Nathan made a timely entrance into the room, cradling an impressive plate of nachos in his arms. He set the plate in the middle of the floor and folded himself Indian-style on the ground beside it, taking a handful of chips and eating them. "I had my mom make them," he said through a mouthful of tortilla and gooey cheese.
"Sweet, she makes the best ones," Pickles said, picking himself up and flocking to the plate. He sat down opposite Nathan and scooped a hearty amount of nachos into his hands, exasperation of moments past evaporated. "Toki, will you at least come here and eat some nachos with us?" He asked before cramming said nachos into his mouth, cheese splattering around his lips. Pickles was a noisy eater normally, but when drunk he was outright obnoxious.
"What's wrong with Toki?" Nathan asked. He held a nacho above his mouth like a Greek deity feeding themselves grapes and slowly lowered it in.
"He's mirthful," Pickles said. He shook his head, his dreadlocked ponytail swinging across his back. He slurped the cheese up around his lips.
"I don't know what that means," Nathan said.
"Happy," Toki said from the window. A bird had landed in a tree in Nathan's backyard and Toki had become mesmerized by it. It was just a pigeon, gray and with a small, squat body, hopping from branch to branch in search of something. Toki had named the bird Joy, mentally, and so he continued to watch Joy bounce around branches. "It means I'm happy."
"What's wrong with that?" Nathan asked, leaning in for another large scoop of nachos at the same time as Pickles.
"He's not talking," Pickles said. They met eyes over the plate of nachos.
"He just did." Nathan cocked his head and retreated from the plate with chips and cheese between his fingers and in his palms. Pickles sighed-definitely from a place of strain and stress-and grabbed some for himself.
"I mean-fuck it, these nachos are great." Pickles said.
Toki turned from the window to look at his friends. The picture of Nathan and Pickles he saw was one of total self-indulgence. Half the plate of nachos was gone, a quarter each in Nathan and Pickles's greedy stomachs, and they were relaxed in such ways-Nathan with his legs crossed, Pickles with them splayed to the side and propping himself up on his elbows-that they looked like kings, gods, noble figures, men of status and privilege, lazy rich guys, whatever. Toki felt above them, his happiness stemming from a place of a deeper meaning and understanding, but he still fled his chair to skid to his knees before the plate of nachos and began to eat some. He ate them directly out of his own hands. Nathan's mother truly did make them the best, after all.
After they finished the plate Nathan's parents left to run an errand and Pickles stumbled downstairs in search of more booze. Nathan looked at Toki, picked up the barren plate of nachos, said, "I better go make sure he doesn't fall and kill himself or something," and left after Pickles. Toki fell to his back on Nathan's floor and looked at the ceiling, eyes lidded in fullness and bliss, a natural high. He held his hand before him and turned it over, examining it, thinking about all the things this hand had touched, will touched, had done, will do. He felt poetic. He also felt vaguely horny, more so than the usual nag at the back of his mind reminding him that he is in his most virile and fertile years. Looking at his hand, thinking about his dick-he had an idea.
He crept out of Nathan's room and peered downstairs. Pickles and Nathan were not in the kitchen as far as he could see, but a cabinet was open, which meant that they had found Pickles some more booze and were elsewhere doing other things. Toki smiled and rushed back to Nathan's room, shutting the door behind him. He went to the window and dragged the computer chair back to the computer, sat in the chair, and shook the mouse to wake the computer up.
Toki did not get the chance to masturbate, or jack off, or jerk off, or whatever the fuck they felt like calling it that day, often. Or at all, really. Sometimes, if things were particularly bad, he would risk it in the shower at home, and he'd done it a few times at Nathan's already (and was pretty sure everybody in their group had regardless) so he did not feel weird about what he was about to do. Well, he did, but not because it was at Nathan's house. Toki didn't watch porn. Not because he didn't want to, but because he didn't get the opportunity. He couldn't do it at home, didn't know where to find it, and didn't even know what the fuck he was into. When he did get the chance to jack off, he normally returned to the memory of that pretty girl from church's pretty mouth formed around a song, and it got him off pretty well. Today, though, he had a mission.
He opened up Nathan's internet browser of choice and went to Google. In the search bar he typed gay porn, which was enough to excite him further and also fill him with trepidation. He clicked on the first result: a website called gaytube. Convenient. Once on the homepage of gaytube he found a video that seemed appealing, Straight Skaters Jerk Off. Relatable, at least in the fact that he was also a skater currently jerking off, and not too extreme. He didn't think he was ready for anything more, at this point. He relaxed in his chair, unbuttoned the top of his jeans and snuck a hand into his boxers, fully erect at that point from the idea of the situation alone. He had left the window open, though he didn't think anyone would be able to see him.
The video was two minutes and thirty-four seconds long and at the minute mark he could feel himself getting close, the rising feeling, the build-up, and he bit hard enough into his lip to draw blood (which, to be honest, only managed to escalate the pleasure he was feeling), and he was just so, so fucking close when the door to Nathan's room swung open. Toki froze mid-stroke and did not dare ot turn around or even move, the video rolling on in front of him, switching between shots of a myriad of boys in a similar position as Toki, whose dick was still in his hand and still hard.
"Um..Toki?" That was Pickles's voice, but he could practically hear the silence of Nathan, and felt a fourth presence in the room. He really hoped that was Murderface, or a ghost, or even Charles, and not one of Nathan's parents.
Toki's prayers were answered when the fourth presence yelled, "What the fuck? What schort of welcome isch thisch?" The sound of Murderface's lisp completely wilted Toki's cock and he finally got the sense to take his hand away and tuck himself back into his boxers, pull his jeans up and zip and button them. His face was hot and red and not in the good way it had been just mere seconds ago. He licked the blood from his lips, running his tongue over the sensitive sore and pressing hard in a futile attempt to make it stop bleeding. In front of him the video was almost done. He could barely stand to look at it, but it didn't occur to him to turn it off until Nathan cleared his throat.
Toki closed out of the window and folded his hands in his lap, head cast downward and hair covering his face. His back was towards the other guys, who hadn't moved, collected in the doorway, and Toki wasn't about to, either. The only sound in the room was Murderface's sputtering of half-formed words, accusations, and insults.
"Uh, Murderface, I think you're actually too freaked out by this," Nathan said, finally cutting the silence.
Pickles laughed. "Gotta agree," he said, and Toki heard his approaching footsteps, then felt his hand clasp his back. Toki flinched and Pickles took his hand away. "We all knew Toki here was gay. We've met his boyfriend. Fuck, we've seen 'em kiss. Anyways. Raise your hand if you haven't jacked off exactly where Toki is sittin' right now." There was not the sound of somebody's hand being raised, and Toki felt disgusted when Pickles put it that way. "See? Toki's just the first one to get caught. This is funny. This is a funny situation. Laugh, you douchebags." And they did; Nathan and Pickles's genuine, Murderface's nervous, and Toki even began to giggle. It was sort of funny. He guessed. He raised his head and looked at Pickles, meeting eyes and smiling.
Pickles pulled Toki out of the chair with his free hand-there was another bottle of vodka in the other one-and enveloped him in a hug. "Sorry you didn't get to cum," he said, so seriously that Toki burst out laughing.
In comparison, the rest of the week proved uneventful. Toki went skating with Murderface on Thursday, but Murderface bought along Dick and ignored Toki the entire time. Murderface acted sort of weird around Toki following what became known as Toki's gay porn thing, not talking to him nearly as much as before, which didn't bother Toki too greatly. He continued to do mounds of meaningless chores but received no particularly ruthless punishment. His parents were under the impression that he was working on a history project worth his semester grade in the class (which was very much not true), so he was able to escape to Nathan's house for the week and also on Saturday, when his second date with Skwisgaar was scheduled for the mall at noon. Nathan and Pickles accompanied Toki, Murderface away at some family reunion thing for the day, and Toki bounced with anticipation the entire ride there. Nathan was engrossed with driving and Pickles with telling Nathan about Charles and Abigail's shared suspicious actions, including but not limited to their lack of interaction with him. Nathan reported that Charles had been talking to him considerably less and Abigail not at all, unsurprisingly.
They were late by fifteen minutes but Skwisgaar was nowhere to be seen either. Pickles and Toki sat down at a table in the food court while Nathan went to one of the eateries, a Chinese place of dubious quality that he was into, and waited. Toki's spirits were dropping fast, certain that Skwisgaar had stood him up. Pickles had already launched into a comforting mode, ready to begin calling Skwisgaar a douchebag and telling Toki he deserved better at any moment. But just as Nathan was returning with a tray ladened with fifteen bucks worth of weird quasi-Chinese food, Skwisgaar strolled through the mall door.
Pickles sighed; Toki's pulse picked up. Skwisgaar, glorious as ever, gliding towards him, dressed in all clothes that glowed under fluorescent lighting, along with his hair and skin and eyes, and Toki was mirthful, enamored, dumbstruck, lovestruck, in awe. Pickle's sigh escalated into a groan when Skwisgaar came to their table and took one of Toki's hand in his, bowing and kissing it. He lifted his chin just the slightest from the back of Toki's hand, skirting his eyes upward to meet Toki's. Toki suppressed a yelp by bringing the knuckles of his free hand to his lips; Pickles made a noise with his throat; Nathan had stopped eating.
"Hellos," Skwisgaar said, straightening himself up. He stood at his full height with his immaculate posture, making it hard on Toki's knees as he, himself, stood. Skwisgaar took Toki's hand in his, looking Nathan and Pickles dead in the eyes.
"So, uh," Nathan said, spearing a piece of orange chicken with his plastic fork. He bought it to his mouth slowly, opting to make eye contact with the food rather than Skwisgaar.
"We'll meet you back here in three hours," Pickles said, standing up himself and putting his hands on his hips. His eyes were narrowed, focused on Skwisgaar and Toki's entwined fingers. "Right here. This exact table."
"Okay, Mom," Toki said. Skwisgaar-and Nathan, silently and to himself-laughed. Pickles narrowed his eyes even further, lowering himself back into his seat. He maintained his menacing visage as he groped around Nathan's plate of Chinese food. He found an egg roll and took it, taking a large bite of it, all while staring. Skwisgaar and Toki turned and walked away from Nathan and Pickles, erupting into laughter as soon as they were out of earshot.
"What ams you wantingks to does?" Skwisgaar asked Toki. Skwisgaar turned to look at Toki while he talked; Toki was swinging their interlocked hands between them back and forth with force.
"I don't know," Toki said. They reached the center of the mall from which four spines extended; they had just come from the one that led to the food court. At the end of each spine there were large department stores and means of getting to the second floor of the mall. Along the way smaller shops, kiosks, boutiques and eateries. It was all the same to Toki; they came to the mall often enough, oftentimes sitting on the steps behind it where people rarely came to get stoned then cause ruckus within the mall. He had some goods time in this mall indeed, and had high expectations for this date. "Walks around, I guesses."
"Walks around it ams," Skwisgaar said, and they walked straight, curving their path around the large, ornate fountain in the center spewing water towards the gap in the second floor. "You knows, I ams been livingks here for months, and I has not comes here before."
"Really?" Toki said, looking at Skwisgaar in surprise. "Me and the guys, we comes here often." He had not yet noticed his English skills slipping, nor his accent coming out more fully.
"Ja," Skwisgaar said. He paused and looked to his left; there was a music store. He began to stride towards it, dragging Toki along with him. "I lives near heres, too. Dat's why I choose here for dis date." They crossed the threshold into the store and Skwisgaar immediately went for the back, along which there were posters, guitars, and novelty items for various things likes popular movies and television shows. Toki knew the store well. It was one of his and the other's more frequent haunts.
"Oh, well, I moved here when I was in the sixth grades," Toki said. He watched Skwisgaar flip through a stack of guitar magazines, occasionally scoffing at those who graced the cover. Toki recognized some of them due to Nathan and Pickles's interests in music, but had no opinions of his own to offer. "That was when I met the guys, too. They likes to come to the mall. I likes to have friends."
"Whys did you leaves Norway again?" Skwisgaar now steered Toki towards the actual music. Skwisgaar went for the metal section, which made Toki deeply happy and proud, for he knew more about metal than the average person and was glad that Skwisgaar was into it, too. Perhaps he would be able to find common ground with Toki's friends after all. Skwisgaar immediately started going through the Norwegian black metal section (which was suitably extensive) rather nonchalantly.
"My father was involved in a religion and had to move here for church stuffs, you know that. We still go every Sunday and sometimes my father is the preacher. I don't believes in any of it." Toki reached over and plucked a CD out of the bin, recognizing a band. He examined it, flipping it over in his free hand to read the back.
"Ah, I also am not believingks in anythings. I am a nihilist, as you knows." Skwisgaar sounded smug. He turned away from the CD selection and towards Toki, then took the album Toki had in his hands to examine it. "I knows dis band," he said, flipping it over for himself. "I saw dem on tours in Sweden."
"How was it?" Toki asked. He looked up at Skwisgaar, yet again impressed with him. Skwisgaar put the CD back in its bin and Toki grabbed his other hand, then leaned up to kiss him. They were side-eyed by an old woman perusing country music; Skwisgaar flicked his head at her. Toki withdrew and licked his lips, inwardly giddy at the first kiss of the day.
"It was okays," Skwisgaar said. He let go of one of Toki's hands and led him towards the guitars. "All of these guitars sucks," he said, running his fingers over the body of a zebra-print acoustic. "Cheaps piece of craps."
"I don't know a lot about guitars," Toki confessed, though he offhandedly liked the look of one of the electric ones, a gleaming gray in color.
"Guitars ams pretty much all I knows about," Skwisgaar said, serious in tone. He continued to explore and poke around the store, never staying anywhere for too long, and ended up not buying anything in the end. Toki hadn't expected him to. They left the store and continued to make their way down the mall hand-in-hand, passing mostly store branches that pandered to teenage girls. The mall was decently busy, it being a Saturday afternoon, and Toki saw a variety of people. None stood out to him. He preferred to pass the time looking at Skwisgaar's profile and standing with his back straight, proud of himself and wanting to show off.
Five minutes down the way there was a candy store that Toki immediately turned for, this time dragging Skwisgaar. "I loves candy," Toki sighed. Skwisgaar arched his eyebrows but said nothing as Toki began to look through the stacks and racks of various candy. The store arranged its candy by color, a rainbow wrapping around the faux wood walls. Toki revelled in its aesthetics.
While Toki was looking at black licorice, Skwisgaar picked up a small box. "Chocolate dipped cockoroaches?" He said, curling his lip and cocking his head.
Toki peered over at them and shrugged. "I don't know, I've never ates them," he said. He took the box from Skwisgaar's hand and looked at it closer. It was black in color, slimy green lets announcing its innards: World's Finest Chocolate Dipped Cockroaches. A disclaimer read that there were, indeed, real cockroaches inside, dipped in the world's finest European milk chocolate.
"Does you want to try them?" Skwisgaar asked. He was looking between the box and Toki, skeptical and slightly repulsed.
"Does you?" Toki made eye contact with Skwisgaar, asking him with his eyes as well.
"You knows what, I makes a deal," Skwisgaar said. "I buys them, we sees who ams able to eats de most of them." He took the box back from Toki and walked towards the cash register. Toki intensified his pace to keep up.
"Like a bet," Toki said as Skwisgaar paid three dollars for the box, which said that there were ten of the bugs inside. Skwisgaar nodded. "What does the winner get?"
"Whatever they wants," Skwisgaar said, shaking his head when the lady working the register asked if he wanted a bag for it. Skwisgaar led Toki away from the candy store, which made him a little sad, and towards one of the wooden benches in the center of the walkway outside. They sat down and Skwisgaar took his hand away from Toki's to open the box of cockroaches. Skwisgaar looked uncomfortable as he pulled a plastic container from the box. Inside were individually wrapped chocolate-dipped cockroaches.
Toki took one and unwrapped it, never a timid eater. Skwisgaar mirrored him but more slowly. "On three?" Toki asked, holding the candy near his mouth. It smelled like chocolate, at least. Skwisgaar nodded. Toki counted to three and then plopped the thing inside his mouth; Skwisgaar bit off the head. Toki chewed, unable to come to a decision as to whether or not he liked it; the chocolate was very good, but the texture was weirdly crunchy, and what he guessed was the cockroach itself had a strange, almost bitter flavor that he wasn't necessarily opposed to. Skwisgaar immediately spit his back out into the wrapper and scraped at his tongue with his hands.
"Disgustingks!" he said. He put the box beside him and went to throw his decapitated cockroach away in a nearby trash can. He returned to stand in front of Toki, hands on his hips.
Toki swallowed his, looked up at Skwisgaar and smiled. "I win," he said, standing up.
"Does you-you likes them?" Skwisgaar said. He was eyeing the box as if the cockroaches were going to fly into his mouth and force themselves down his throat, face contoured in utter repulsion.
"They were okay," Toki said. He put his hands over Skwisgaar's on his hips and kissed him fully, opening Skwisgaar's mouth with his tongue and sliding it against his. Skwisgaar recoiled from the kiss and turned his head; Toki guessed he tasted like cockroach, and was finding the whole situation utterly hilarious. He kissed Skwisgaar's cheek and let go of his hands.
Skwisgaar just scoffed and took Toki's hand in his, guiding them away from the bench and subsequently the chocolate dipped cockroaches. "Leaves it for de next peoples," he said, when Toki asked him about the candy they were leaving behind.
"Maybe they'll like them," Toki said. They were now ascending an escalator to the second floor, Toki a step above Skwisgaar and facing towards him instead of ahead.
"If dey ams crazies," Skwisgaar said. He pulled another face of utter repugnance. He placed an arm on Toki's forearm and then said, "Watches your step," when they were near the top. Toki turned around and exited the escalator properly, enjoying the hand Skwisgaar placed on the small of Toki's back to guide him. Toki returned the favor by tugging on Skwisgaar's wrist as he walked off the escalator. Toki was thoroughly enjoying himself, much more than he usually did at the mall, and he felt like a proper teenager for once in his life: free yet carefree, mirthful.
They went into the department store at this end of the mall via the second floor entrance. They wandered through aisles of makeup and purses until they found the men's section. The clothing was expensive and not matching either of their tastes-while polo shirts and khakis hung on the walls, Skwisgaar was in a way oversized black-and-white flannel and tattered jeans and Toki in a thin black HUF hoodie and cargo shorts-but Skwisgaar seemed to have a purpose. This section of the store was empty of people besides themselves and Skwisgaar led Toki through a maze of clothes into the fitting rooms. Toki was beginning to get an idea of why they were in here.
They went into one towards the back; these fitting rooms locked from the inside, requiring no store employee, and had heavy doors that went from ceiling to floor. Overall, they were perfect, and before he knew it Toki was inside of one, back against the slick tile wall, Skwisgaar's fingers pulling aside his hair and his mouth on his neck. Toki was gasping, but not in an unpleasant way, more in a generally pleased way. His arms scrambled for a second before he knotted both of his hands into Skwisgaar's hair and yanked and twisted it around his hands. Skwisgaar's hair was soft and thick and his mouth was hot and wet on Toki's neck; Toki was pretty much in bliss. They stayed like this long enough for a large hickey to come to surface on the juncture between Toki's shoulder and neck and then Skwisgaar pulled away, cupping Toki's face in both of his hands. His lips were wet with his own saliva and Toki leaned in to lick them, but Skwisgaar pulled back again just as Toki's tongue grazed his bottom lip.
Toki whined. Skwisgaar chuckled. "You wons de bet," he said, and it was quite possibly the most seductive thing Toki had ever heard. "What ams you goingks to be doingks?"
Toki thought for a moment. He considered saving his winnings in case he ever needed them, then thought about the situation at hand and dismissed the idea of saving them as utterly stupid. In his thinking he stuck his tongue between his lips. He rolled through recent memories and urges for a few seconds before something clicked inside. "I has an idea, but you can say no if you want to."
"Okay, I probably won'ts, but okay," Skwisgaar said. He put his forehead against Toki and moved his hands back so that they were under Toki's ears and knotted in Toki's hair. "What ams it?"
"I wants to bite you," Toki said, chest heaving with nerves and arousal. His skin was flushed and he was hot. Skwisgaar's body curving against his own did not help, but Toki wasn't about to complain. He liked the heat, liked the feeling of his heart going haywire.
Skwisgaar's face remained relaxed. "Dat's not dat extremes," Skwisgaar said. He sounded curious and moved his head to the side, forehead rolling along Toki's own. Toki was struck for a second by how beautiful he was, then regained himself.
"On de mouth. And-" Toki swallowed, making hardcore eye contact with Skwisgaar, begging him not to throw him out in disgust like he was a chocolate dipped cockroach. "Makes you bleed."
There was a beat. A momentary pause. The world stopped. Then, Skwisgaar said, quiet and slow, "My gods, does it," pupils fat and boring into Toki's eyes. Skwisgaar straightened his head and pulled back, leaving enough space between them. Toki nodded and leaned into Skwisgaar, moving his mouth towards his as he tipped his head back, and took Skwisgaar's bottom lip between his teeth. Toki bit down. He did it gradually at first, teasing, and then very hard all at once; he shivered when he tasted coppery blood. They were both into it-they went back to regularly kissing as Skwisgaar continued to bleed, his blood passing between their mouths. They were pressed chest-to-chest, melding and melting into the other. Skwisgaar took both of Toki's hands and pinned them to the wall with one of his, pressing his thumb hard into Toki's wrists, and in return Toki bit Skwisgaar again then pulled back. He smiled, blood on his teeth and around his mouth, and watched blood trickle down Skwisgaar's chin, slowly. Toki was more than a little hard.
"Dat was worth it," Toki said, chest still visibly heaving. Skwisgaar let go of his hands and Toki lowered them to his side, pushing his hoodie down while he was at it; Skwisgaar had been running the fingers of his other hand around Toki's naval. Toki waited for Skwisgaar to step back, but he didn't; instead, he looked at Toki, eyes deep. Toki raised his hand to Skwisgaar's mouth and placed his middle finger on his bleeding lip, then ran it down, down Skwisgaar's neck and over his Adam's apple, down to his chest, where Toki placed his entire hand, lightly. They went back to intensely making out at that point. By the end Skwisgaar's lip had stopped bleeding but his blood had gotten in several places on their respective faces and necks, dried rusty spots dotting their skin. They both had hands up the other's shirt, both of Toki's palms pressing into Skwisgaar's chest, one of Skwisgaar's around Toki's shoulder while the other was on his side, both under his hoodie.
"We has to stop sometimes," Toki said as Skwisgaar mouthed Toki's ear. If not because they wasted almost an hour making out, because Toki's balls were seriously starting to ache, heavy to the point of uncomfort. He unwillingly moaned as Skwisgaar once more moved his lips to that sensitive spot behind his left ear.
"I guesses you ams right," Skwisgaar said. Toki still felt lonely when Skwisgaar lifted himself off, though. Toki surveyed Skwisgaar-hair disheveled, pupils dilated, blood everywhere-and took his hands out from under his shirt. He then looked at himself in the mirror and found himself to be pretty much in the same state. He tried the best he could to readjust his hair and clothes while Skwisgaar coped his actions, sneaking looks at each other in the mirror. They both wiped as much blood off of themselves and the other as they could.
"Let's go to the bathroom," Toki said as they exited the fitting room. The menswear section of the department store was still deserted, luckily, and a bathroom was located not too far away from the fitting rooms. There was nobody in there either and they washed the blood off themselves and each other with soapy paper towels, occasionally sharing a deep tongue kiss or a chaste one at the corner of the mouth, Toki silly with happiness at that point. They exited the bathroom hand-in-hand once more, then the department store, and began to wander around.
"What time is it?" Toki asked as they left the department store. He was swinging their hands with force again and humming to himself; Skwisgaar was tolerating it. Skwisgaar pulled his phone, which Toki took note to be a shitty twenty-dollar flip phone, from his back pocket, and checked the time.
"We has an hours left," Skwisgaar said, putting the phone back in his pocket. He frowned. "Not enoughs times."
"I was just gonna hang out with Nathan, Pickle, and Moidaface after this," Toki said. He pointed at a smoothie stand in the middle of the mall and looked at Skwisgaar; Skwisgaar nodded, and they went towards the smoothies. "You can come with us."
"Your friends will not minds?" Skwisgaar asked as they slid into the smoothie stand line. There were two people in front of them, boring twenty-somethings that Toki took no interest in beside impatience for their presence to cease. "They ams not seemingks to likes me."
"They always bring along their friends," Toki said. He furrowed his brow and puffed out his lower lip, pouting"But they don't let me bring Rockzo to anything! He's my lab partner in Chemistry class and my friend,," he added as explanation. "But you, you ams my boyfriend! If Moidaface can bring Dick, I can bring you." He went to cross his arms over his chest, then remembered he was holding hands with Skwisgaar, and instead stomped one of his feet.
"Dick ams that producer guy, right?" Skwisgaar asked. One twenty-something departed from the line, smoothie in tow, and they shuffled forward.
Toki nodded. He read the board advertising the smoothies and found it hard to pick one. They all sounded delicious, and he knew them to be scrumptious due to past experience. It was a hard decision; he stuck his tongue between as he contemplated his choices.
"His name fits him," Skwisgaar said. Toki laughed. He bit his tongue in the process and yelped; Skwisgaar laughed harder.
The other person in line exited with their respective smoothie, and it was Toki's turn to order. Unable to decide what he wanted, picked at random. Five minutes later he was sitting on yet another bench, this time with one hand flat on the bench and Skwisgaar's over it, fingers woven together, and a large strawberry mango smoothie in the other, straw between his lips. Skwisgaar had gotten himself a bottle of water and drank it demurely. Toki sucked his smoothie with strength; this caught Skwisgaar's eye, and he chucklee.
Toki pulled the smoothie away from his lips. "What?" He asked, genuinely confused. His hand twitched underneath Skwisgaar's and they repositioned their hands slightly, subconsciously. That was weird and new to Toki, the way two bodies automatically adjust to fit each other. There were some things he realized people were ignorant to before entering a relationship with another person, and that was one of them.
"I thinks you ams goingks to be good at de blowjobs," Skwisgaar said. Toki looked away, at his smoothie, and felt something drain inside of him. "Whats wrong, little Toki? Oh, I forgets you ams so innocent." Skwisgaar tried to restrain himself from laughing, but he still managed to, accenting the last few syllables of his sentence with the sound. He continued to laugh as he continued to talk. "It ams my goal to changes that."
"I'm less innocent than you think," Toki said. It was difficult for him to discuss such subjects brazenly, but he made the decision to soldier on. To be a man
"Prove it." Skwisgaar leaned it close to Toki and said this against his ear, as breathy as he could manage it. He placed a kiss on that sensitive spot behind Toki's ear and then bit-not nibbled, bit-Toki's earlobe. Toki flushed again, this time straight to his dick, and drank some more of his smoothie to distract himself.
"Okay," Toki said, placing his smoothie beside him on the bench and rubbing his hands on his knees. They weren't exposed; his cargo shorts covered them even when he sat down. That made him feel more protected. "This Wednesday, Nathan, Pickle, and Moidaface caught me jerking off. To other guys jerking off." He looked Skwisgaar dead in the eyes, serious as he could make himself.
Skwisgaar snatched his hand away from Toki and clutched his stomach, doubling over as he was laughing so hard. Toki huffed and drank some more of his smoothie as angrily as he could, but that only made Skwisgaar laugh harder. Had Toki not been so offended or so involved in his smoothie he might've seen the humor and laughed himself, but he was offended, and the smoothie was divine. Skwisgaar eventually unfolded himself and replaced his hand, this time properly holding Toki's, and looked at him. "Oh, Tokis," he said. He placed a hand on his cheek. "Min pojkvän. I has slept with so many peoples I lose counts."
This didn't make Toki jealous; he expected that much, and was sort of glad. Somebody experienced could teach him, guide him. Still, he harrumphed. "I haven't had the chance to not be innocent, kjæresten min." He sucked up more of his smoothie; it was almost gone.
"You will has de chance," Skwisgaar said. Having not removed the hand on his cheek, he stroked his thumb over Toki's cheekbone. "Hopefully it ams goingks to be soon, but I ams willingks to take things slowly. I ams tryingks to done things right once time."
Toki placed a hand over Skwisgaar's on his cheek. "Thanks you," he said, running his own thumb over the veins of the back of Skwisgaar's hand. He had such lovely guitar player's hands; Toki was nearing obsession with them. "I don't know a lot about, um, sex. Or anything. I guess." He took his hand away, looked at the floor, and drank the last of his smoothie. He was sad to have it gone, both the smoothie and a reliable means of distraction.
"Well, like in de guitars, I ams de master," Skwisgaar said. He leaned in and kissed Toki; when he took his lips away Toki rubbed their noses together, and Skwisgaar smiled in spite of himself. "Secks, ad seckuals things, dey ams fun. Especially with another peoples. Much more funs than by yousself." He placed an arm around the bench behind Toki, turning his body towards him. Toki mirrored the action, placing one hand on Skwisgaar's knee as Skwisgaar held the other.
"If you says so," Toki said. "I'll take your word for it. I didn't know I was into guys until a few weeks ago," he said, sighing. "I never thought about it."
"Me eithers," Skwisgaar said. He shrugged. "I fucks who I fucks. It ams not dat big of a deal, little Tokis." He was sincere and for that Toki was grateful; for his existence, Toki was grateful. He looked at Skwisgaar looking at him, at their tangled mess of limbs, at the sores on his lips where he'd bitten them and shared their blood, and he felt something inside of his chest give out. He felt whatever had been blocking something break, and that something flood him from above him to below him. It was not love yet not infatuation, somewhere in between. Fondness. In Norwegian, forelsket.
Toki smiled at Skwisgaar, who smiled back, the corner of his eyes crinkling. He could feel Skwisgaar feeling it too, could feel it in his bones, living inside of him. "What ams it like?" He asked. He wasn't sure what it was supposed to be, exactly, as he was curious to it all-to Skwisgaar-but hoped Skwisgaar would interpret it in his own way.
"Sometimes-most of de times-it was ams lonely," Skwisgaar said. He sighed; Toki watched the rise and fall of his chest, the gentle stir of his hair, the way his eyelids fluttered, the fine blond eyelashes. Forelsket. "But that ams behind me now," Skwisgaar said, and his eyes popped opened, a grin forming on his face. He pulled out his phone and checked the time. "Come, Toki, we has only a hour-half left." He stood up and pulled Toki from the bench with both hands.
Skwisgaar stumbled backwards as he pulled Toki forwards, and they smiled at each other and chuckled. Toki wanted people to see him and be jealous of him, for his blithe bliss, for the perfect person in his company. He felt jealous of himself, even, fortuitous almost to the point of disbelief. He felt himself beginning to understand the point of living, the inherent yet hidden supreme vivacity to these strange and at time troublesome twilight teenage years. He was gradually yet undoubtedly ascending into a nirvana of gratifaction. He began to comprehend why they portrayed the stage he had previously found so addled and awkward as a period of unspoiled pleasure in the media; it was possible to attain, and here he was, on the path to attainment.
The walk to the food court felt much shorter than the one that took them away from it, maybe because Toki was dreading getting back, or maybe because they had made so many stops on the original one. He held Skwisgaar's hand tight and they talked of various subjects, including but not limited to, bananas, Eurovision and men who paint their nails. They went to the table where Skwisgaar had picked Toki up and sat across from each other, holding hands over the table, both of their heads laying on the tabletop-Skwisgaar on his chin, Toki on his cheek-and looking at each other. They ran their thumbs over each other's hands and talked, then sat up straight and released each other when Nathan and Pickles returned, Nathan carrying a bag from the music store and Pickles eating a cinnamon bun, a cheap-looking kitty-ear headband in his dreads. Skwisgaar looked at Toki and arched a single eyebrow; Toki put a fist over his mouth to keep from laughing.
"Hey, guys," Toki said. Nathan and Pickles sat down, Nathan beside Skwisgaar and Pickles beside Toki. "I was wondering-um-what are we doing after this?" His accent was richer than usual, but he focused on his English, having noticed its tendency to slip when around Skwisgaar. Nathan and Pickles didn't seem to notice any change.
"Party at Charles's," Nathan said. Pickles seemed to be making a point by silently eating his cinnamon bun. Skwisgaar picked up on this and grabbed Toki's hand on top of the table, the action dripping with deliberation.
"I think it'd be really neat and cool if Skwisgaar came along with us," Toki said, his voice wobbling. He looked at Skwisgaar, who nodded his head, encouraging him. "Yeah. It would be really neat and cool."
"Yeah, okay, I guess that'd be cool with me," Nathan said. He put his shopping bag on the table and looked at Pickles. "Are you cool with it, Pickles?"
Pickles lowered the cinnamon bun, which he was almost done with, and slowly rotated his head to look at Skwisgaar. He narrowed his eyes again and said, "I dunno."
"You..doesn't knows?" Skwisgaar said. He tightened his hold on Toki's hand to the point it almost hurt and one of Toki's fingers cracked.
"I dunno you," Pickles explained. He took another bite of his cinnamon bun and chewed it before continuing. "You could try and steal from Charles, or murder a whore."
"Ams dere goingks to be whores?" Skwisgaar sounded more amused than anything, playing into Pickles's game. Toki hadn't the slightest idea what the fuck was up with Pickles, but he was enjoying the way Skwisgaar dealt with it.
"Aw, come on, Pickle," Toki pleaded. He placed a hand on Pickles's shoulder and forced Pickles to look him in the eyes, trying to telepathically communicate just how much he wanted this. When that seemed not to work he did it verbally. "You guys always bring along people, and Murderface ams-is-stuck to Dick!" (At this, Nathan and Skwisgaar shared a chuckle.)
Pickles took the last bite of his cinnamon bun, left to throw away the wrapper, then returned. He did not sit down, but instead took stock of the three of them with his hands flat on the table, shoulders rolled forward, then opened his mouth to speak. "Charles's party doesn't start until seven, so I guess we can hang at Nathan's until then. Murderface and Dick are meeting us at Nathan's house in an hour. Let's go."
"All of us?" Toki asked, hopeful. He took his hand away from Skwisgaar to form it into a begging position in his chest, pulling his best puppy dog face. Skwisgaar leaned back in his chair and looked judgingly at Toki.
"Yes, all of us. C'mon, Nathan." Pickles turned around and exited the foodcourt; Nathan took his bag and stood up himself. He flicked his hair out of his face and sighed in an exaggerated fashion.
"I'm sorry, I don't know what's wrong with him," he said to Toki and Skwisgaar, as quietly as he could, looking towards the door to make sure Pickles was not present and could not hear him.
Skwisgaar and Toki exchanged a look, shrugged, and stood up themselves. They followed Nathan to the parking lot hand-in-hand; this time Toki did not swing them with force. Skwisgaar opened the door to Nathan's truck for Toki and then let himself in on the other side, behind Pickles. They did not hold hands in the backseat of Nathan's truck, Skwisgaar's arms folded over his chest as he looked out the window. Toki let his arms rest as his side and spent the ride looking at Skwisgaar's long legs and the way he sat with them splayed opened, no seatbelt on. He was glad that he now had the permission to openly gawk at Skwisgaar, for he was truly a gorgeous specimen.
They arrived at Nathan's house no problem and immediately went to Nathan's room. His parents weren't home, so nobody questioned Skwisgaar's presence. Skwisgaar and Toki hung back from Nathan and Pickles and hold hands, goosing each other on the stairs as they walked up them. Skwisgaar did not seem too impressed by Nathan's house after his initial head-turning survey, and Toki was delighted, as Skwisgaar's attention was directly focused on him. They entered Nathan's room and Toki went to the window immediately, sitting below it. Pickles was on Nathan's bed, already smoking a joint, and Nathan was busy putting away his new CDs and records into his extensive, alphabetically organized collection in his closet.
"What de fucks ams with all dese garden gnomes," Skwisgaar said, looking out the window, both hands curled around the edge. Toki tugged on Skwisgaar's shirt to get him to sit down; Skwisgaar did, draping an arm around Toki's shoulders and extending his legs in front of him. Toki mirrored that, bumping one of Skwisgaar's feet (he was wearing studded leather boots again) with his own (Toki was in simple black-and-white checkered Vans). Skwisgaar bumped back, and they turned it into a game, getting aggressive with it.
"I don't know, the guys next door are always placing another one every couple of weeks," Toki said, dropping his head to Skwisgaar's shoulder. Skwisgaar brushed some of Toki's hair behind his ear with his free hand, then allowed his own head to fall on Toki's. "Roll me a joint, Pickle."
Pickles did what he told, making one on the bed. He was using an old essay of his for their history class as rolling paper; Toki's history project alibi made this amusing to him. Pickles got off of Nathan's bed and handed the joint to Toki unlighted. Toki was about to complain when Skwisgaar pulled a lighter from his pocket and lit it for him. "You ams goingks to share, ja?" he said, hand cupped around the blunt and lighter.
"Of course," Toki said, and he smoked some then passed it to Skwisgaar. They nuzzled noses while passing, and then Skwisgaar turned away so as to bring the blunt to his mouth. Toki watched him do it and decided that Skwisgaar was the most elegant smoker he had ever encountered.
Nathan finished organization and walked to his bed, sitting beside Pickles. "You two are making me sick. Like, seriously. Stop it." He looked at Skwisgaar and Toki and made a face of disgust.
Toki stuck his tongue at Nathan. "Sorry," he said. Nathan rolled his eyes and turned to Pickles, engaging him in a (pointlessly) hushed conversation about something uninteresting related to Charles and Abigail. Toki himself said (pointlessly) hushed to Skwisgaar, "I'm not really sorry."
"Nots am I neither," Skwisgaar said, and he passed the joint back to Toki, who readily inhaled.
They passed their time in their pairs, Skwisgaar and Toki completely stoned and paying attention to only each other after half an hour of passing the blunt back and forth, Nathan and Pickles working on Nathan's homework (which meant Pickles giving the answers to Nathan as he wrote them down) to maintain Nathan's measly GPA and thus spot on the football team. Dick and Murderface showed up around four; they immediately sent Dick, whose jaw dropped at the sight of Skwisgaar, out on a Dimmu Burger run. Pickles even wrote him a very specific list with their orders, including Skwisgaar's, on the back of Nathan's dismal chemistry notes and provided Dick with no money to pay for the food.
"That'sch kind of rude of you guysch," Murderface said as he immediately went to Nathan's computer and sat in his chair with his boots propped up on his desk. He began to browse music blogs, one arm hanging off the chair behind him.
"Oh, like you're one to tell us about what's rude," Pickles said, eying Murderface's boots. He returned to helping Nathan with his homework, which still wasn't done, placing an arm on his bicep as he pointed to an error Nathan had made in a math problem.
Toki and Skwisgaar barely took count of this conversation as they continued to make eyes at and run their fingers over each other. Skwisgaar played with the ends of Toki's hair and told him he had too many split-ends and needed a trim; Toki told him that his parents wouldn't take him to a hairdresser and the guys didn't want to wait around for him; Skwisgaar vowed to take Toki to one. Toki unbuttoned and buttoned the top three buttons of Skwisgaar's shirt several times, attempting to find out which he liked better, and decided that Skwisgaar looked best with a plunging neckline. Pickles said, passively and from Nathan's bed, that it made Skwisgaar look like a douche, but Skwisgaar and Toki barely heard him as they were too busy French kissing beneath the window sill.
Dick returned with their food and shelled out the individual orders to all of them, beginning with Murderface and ending with Skwisgaar and Toki. When he handed Skwisgaar the bag containing his burger and fries he squatted in front of the other boy, pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head, and blinked at him like he couldn't quite believe he was real. "What're you doing here, you Swedish god of a guitar player?" He asked, finally.
"Hanginks out with my boysfriend and his friends," Skwisgaar said. He reached into the Dimmu burger bag and pulled out a single fry, placing it in his mouth. Toki was halfway through his hamburger already, suffering a serious case of the munchies.
"You two are-" Dick gestured between Skwisgaar and Toki fast with his hand, still blinking hard. "Seriously? That's great, I'm happy for you! Please let me produce your band." He sounded pleading at that point, grabbing two fistfuls of Skwisgaar's shirt and shaking him back and forth, looking him straight in the eyes. At this, Toki sent a what the actual fuck are you doing there Dick face towards the two of them. Dick's desperation had even attracted the attention of the other guys; Nathan and Murderface had their heads in their hands, and Pickles looked smug and amused.
"I ams tellingks you," Skwisgaar said through gritted teeth as Dick continued to shake him, hand curled around the Dimmu Burger bag, "talks to Mark. Now lets go of mes!"
Dick let Skwisgaar gp as instructed and picked himself up. He sat on the corner of Nathan's computer desk by Murderface's boots, one knee folded over the other and hands folded on top of that. His order had been with Murderface's, and Murderface handed Dick his salad. He unpackaged it and began to eat, poking around in the plastic container in a manner similar to a wounded baby bird.
"Scheriouschly, Dick, man, buddy, you can't be so deschperate," Murderface said to Dick, fat fingers wrapped around an even fatter burger and mouth full of a half-chewed bite. He was watching a video of a gastric bypass as he ate. Dick shot a look at Murderface that could burn a mere mortal and picked his salad apart in front of him.
"I can't eat and watch them," Nathan said, pointing with his burger at Skwisgaar and Toki; Skwisgaar was feeding Toki his fries, one by one. "C'mon, Pickles, let's go downstairs." Nathan and Pickles collected their things and left, leaving the door open. Dick and Murderface stayed put, actively not speaking to each other, Dick with his legs uncrossed and salad in his lap. Murderface's bypass video ended and he opened up one depicting a knee surgery as he moved towards his second burger.
"Ams dis what you guys does normallsky?" Skwisgaar asked as he stopped feeding Toki fries and instead fed them to himself. Toki replaced fries with milkshake, chocolatey and delicious.
"Pretty much, yep," Toki said between drags of milkshake. "Sometimes we goes places, but it ams pretty much all de same." He exaggerated the last part of his sentence in a singsong voice and took another swing of milkshake. He was very, very stoned, stoned to his core, and as a result of that extremely complacent. Judging by the hand rubbing his shoulder and the way he was eating in flourished movements, Skwisgaar was in a similar state.
"Cool," Skwisgaar said. "Me and Mark and dem, we just practices. So fuckings boringks."
"Oh noes, I am never bored here," Toki said, shaking his head and thus wiggling the straw of the milkshake back and forth. "And if I am, it's a good type of bored."
"Dere is a good types of bored?" Skwisgaar readjusted himself so that he was leaning into Toki; Toki put both of his legs across Skwisgaar's thighs so they could sit more comfortably at an angle. Skwisgaar was almost done with his food, and Toki just had the milkshake, both hands cupped around it. He spoke around the straw.
"Yes, dere ams a bored where it ams like you ams happy to be bored because it ams so good," Toki explained, nodding along with his words. "Where you ams in a happy place!" At this point he was more Norwegian than English, voice high and heavy with accent, grammar terrible. He didn't even notice.
"I sees!" Skwisgaar said. Then he took Toki's milkshake away from him, placing it on the windowsill above them, and silenced Toki's whine of protest with his own mouth. Toki fell to the ground, head near one leg of Nathan's computer desk and arms wrapped around it, holding onto it as Skwisgaar supported himself with both arms and kissed Toki fully.
"Jeschusch Chrischt that isch dischguschting!" Murderface yelped, and he leapt backwards out of his chair, body slamming into Dick's legs. Dick's tumbled off the desk and into Murderface's flailing arms; Murderface shrieked and threw Dick out of them. Dick slammed into the desk, rattling it and causing Toki and Skwisgaar to stop momentarily and pay attention to the scene; they deemed it uninteresting and went back to each other. Murderface and Dick both fled the room, both howling, Murderface in abhorrence and Dick in agony. Skwisgaar and Toki continued to make out, grinding into each other and enjoying themselves. Skwisgaar went to the button of Toki's pants and Toki stopped him, apologetic, but Skwisgaar didn't seem to mind.
Dick and Murderface returned eventually; at this point Toki and Skwisgaar had stopped making out and were once more sitting under the windowsill wrapped up in each other and conversing idly. Toki was growing sleepy but needed to wake up, as according to Dick and Murderface the party was beginning in forty-five minutes and they had to get ready. Toki didn't have to get ready; all he had to do was stand up and walk out, but Dick, Murderface and Pickles required prep time. Toki listened to and laughed at their squabble over the upstairs (and vastly superior) bathroom which Pickles won by Nathan's intervention: "Pickles gets it. Sorry guys." Dick and Murderface stomped and complained their way down the stairs. Nathan came into his room, changed his shirt, and flopped onto his bed, already exhausted by his company.
When everybody was finished, suitably dressed and prepared, they filed themselves into their respective cars. Dick and Murderface left in Dick's car ahead of Nathan, Pickles, Toki and Skwisgaar, who poured themselves into their previous positions in Nathan's truck. Pickles had more weed and passed a joint back and forth between himself, Skwisgaar and Toki, while Nathan drank Coke out of a classic Coke bottle. He claimed it felt like beer and made him feel better about being the designated driver.
They arrived at Charles's house, or mansion, as it was more fit to be called. Charles was rich with absentee parents and thus Charles often threw uncharacteristically large, amazing, proud and brash bashes. He had an extensive, well manicured wall with a huge driveway; by the time they pulled up, ten minutes early, there were at least ten cars lined up outside. The door was wide open, a portal to a world of teenage debauchery, and Toki stopped feeling sleepy so much as excited. He had a good feeling about the night, Skwisgaar's presence beside him only amplifying his mood and premonition. Nathan parked on the curb outside of Charles's house and the group got out of the car, Toki and Skwisgaar holding hands and walking behind Nathan and Pickles. They passed Dick's car on the trek to Charles's front door. Then, they walked through the portal.
Charles's foyer had a high ceiling and sensible beige walls, decorated in a minimalist fashion that showed off how fucking rich they were, small pieces of expensive art the only decoration. Nathan and Pickles went for the kitchen, which was straight ahead, and from Toki's past experiences where Charles (and probably Abigail, by extension) would be greeting guests. Toki had been to a few of Charles's parties before-not as many as Nathan and Pickles, but a good few-and knew his way around pretty well. He led Skwisgaar to the living room, where there were a few people that Toki recognized but didn't know hanging around and drinking. Toki watched one guy pop some pills and then share some with the girl he was with. Toki and Skwisgaar sat down on the couch, melding together as one being sharing one cushion and pressed against an arm. The living room was spacious with two doors, one that led to a hallway and one that led from a foyer. An unlit fireplace was the centerpiece of the room. Void of wood, charcoal and ash, it currently housed a cooler of drinks.
"Does you go to parties often?" Toki asked Skwisgaar. Their hands were folded together in their shared laps,
"Ja," Skwisgaar said. They were talking softly, only to each other; there was not yet music, and there would not be until some more people arrived. The room was filling in around them and Toki saw a steady stream walk through the foyer, most to the kitchen and then around into the other entrance into the living room that led through the hallway. People grabbed drinks from the fireplace cooler and made conversation with each other, occasionally exchanging pills or pieces of paper, following and departing.
"Ams dey good parties, though?" Toki asked. He pecked Skwisgaar on the lips. He was still fairly stoned, but it was fading around the edges, leaving room for rational thought to gradually edge creep back in.
Skwisgaar shrugged. "A good party ams one I don't remember," Skwisgaar said, "so I ams not knowingks." This somehow made sense to Toki, and he smiled as he licked Skwisgaar's lips open, moved his tongue inside his mouth, and did not remove it for quite some time.
Normally at parties Toki would find the stoners and get stoned (or even more stoned) with them until Nathan and Pickles wanted to leave. He would hang out with Murderface and play wingman for him as he repeatedly got shot down and increased in lecherous behavior towards women way out of his league, all the while sneering at ones he deemed beneath him who were still above him. Toki would watch drama with passivity and maybe kick a dude in the stomach a few times if he looked at him funny or elbowed him in their shared struggle to navigate a throng of partygoers. Normally at parties Toki had a pretty average time. This time, at this party, though, Toki spent it with a tongue down his throat and freedom to do so since nobody gave a fuck. Music started, loud and obnoxious house and crunk, that at first made Skwisgaar recoil from the kiss due to repulsion, and then they picked up a rhythm that matched that of the music and everything was okay. Everything was okay.
They separated at some point and started talking to each other, Skwisgaar's elbow on the couch and head in his hand while Toki played with his hair, and Toki observed some very interesting things. Charles's house had filled to a bursting point; Toki didn't know how Charles had a monopoly on his high school's population and then some, but he did, and the crowd of people was as impressive as ever. There were familiar and unfamiliar faces and bodies pressed into each other, moving with the music, talking, drinking, yelling, making out.
"Nathan ams getting drunk," Toki said as he watched Nathan saunter into the room, a full red Solo cup of something sloshing down his hand. His mannerisms were that of when he was drunk and that was how Toki came to that conclusion. Much like Toki, Nathan was a sloppy drunk.
"This ams a problem?" Skwisgaar said. He craned his head to watch Nathan hit on some chick in a tight leather dress with teased black hair; Toki remembered, faintly, that her name was Lavona, and that she was one of Nathan's stalker chicks. Toki didn't know how, but Nathan had amassed a following of girls that were really into him that he mostly ignored unless he was drunk. Which he was, and he had one hand on Lavona's shoulder to steady himself as he chugged from his cup. His hand slipped to Lavona's breast, fondling her, and Lavona grinned as Nathan crumpled his cup, threw it to the ground, and followed her down the hall.
"A big one," Toki said, frowning deeply. None of this was good. "He ams the designated driver. Pickle ams going to be mad. Oh, Pickle ams going to be real mad."
"I guess it ams a problem, then," Skwisgaar said, and he sighed.
Toki watched the people around him. There was another couple on the couch, this one heterosexual, the girl straddling the guy's lap and his hands curled around her exposed hipbones. They were the ones who had shared pills earlier and they were totally out of it, eyes glazed over and moaning to each other. People came and went through the living room, dancing in the open space between couch and fireplace, grinding on each other or the air. Somebody was passed out leaning on one side of the fireplace but Toki couldn't make out who it was or anything about them, really, most of their body hidden by the fireplace. Toki saw Charles only once, coming in through the foyer to check up on the living room when somebody pushed someone else to the ground and almost began a fight. It was weird, to sit and watch a party happen instead of participating in the events, but it was not unwelcome.
Pickles came looking for Nathan half an hour after he disappeared into the hallway with Lavona. Pickles sat in front of Skwisgaar and Toki, eyes half-lidded. He had a bottle of beer in one hand and a lot of grass (the actual kind that grows in the yard) in the other. He was wearing the kitty ears from earlier and his shirt was barely on, bunched around his neck with his arms free. "You see Nathan?" he asked, slurring his words.
"Yeah, he went into the hallway with Lavona," Toki said. He bit his lip. "Pickle..."
"What?" Pickles shouted the word and lurched forward, but balanced himself. "What're you Pickling me for?"
"Nathan ams drunk," Skwisgaar said, as Toki couldn't bring himself to say it. Toki flinched before Pickles even reacted-it was the look on his face, disappointment before all else.
"Fuck!" Pickles shouted, and this time he didn't balance himself when he lurched, instead coming to his feet. The grass and beer bottle fell from his hand as he ran towards the hallway, the beer bottle crashing to the floor and sending glass shards and liquid everywhere, while the grass slumped and landed in a puddle of beer. Skwisgaar sneered.
"This sucks," Toki said, slumping into the couch.
"I will calls Mark in a bits," Skwisgaar said, smoothing Toki's hair. "Mark never drinks. He ams too high-strung about his shitty musics and dis girl dat broke his heart in high school. Patheticks! Anyways, I will calls him."
"Thank you," Toki said, and he kissed Skwisgaar again, but not nearly as deeply or as long. They settled into a comfortable position and remained there, talking and tracing pattern on the other's skin, passing the time.
Toki did not see Dick or Murderface once throughout the party though he knew they were there, and wondered about their location exactly one time before deciding that he really didn't give a fuck. Nathan and Pickles were, as usual, ever the more troublesome; Nathan reemerged from the hallway without Lavona, drunk to the point of utter sloppiness, involved in a shouting match with Pickles: "You're the designated driver!" "I like to have fun too! Fuck you guys!" "You're the only one who can drive!" "Fuck you guys!" "You hate Lavona!" "So!" "Charles is being weird!" "Not my problem!" so on and so forth. Toki followed it the best he could but Nathan and Pickles weaved in and out of rooms until Pickles returned to Skwisgaar and Toki and slumped to the floor in front of them again, forgetting about the shards of glass, beer and grass that he was now sitting in.
"Nathan passed out," he said, moping. He'd pulled his shirt on properly sometime during the shouting match, and this made him look all the more pathetic. Even his kitty ear crown seemed to be drooping. His face was utterly heartbreaking, sad and lonely.
"I think we ams past the point where de party and other people's drunkenness ams fun," Toki said, looking not at Pickles but at Skwisgaar. Skwisgaar nodded in agreement.
"I'll calls Mark," he said. He managed to untangle himself from Toki and get off the couch without stepping on glass, grass, beer, or Pickles, an impressive feat. He aided Toki in maneuvering the debris and then helped Pickles to his feet. Pickles allowed himself to be supported by Skwisgaar and Toki as they walked out of the house, leaving the portal to teenage debauchery and emerging into a much more quiet normalcy. They headed for the sidewalk curb, where Skwisgaar and Toki lowered Pickles down as gently as they could. Pickles's head hit his knees; he wasn't passed out exactly, but in a sad stupor. That was fine enough to Toki, who kept an eye on him as Skwisgaar wandered away to call Mark. Toki listened to Skwisgaar's end of the conversation: "Mark, I needs a favor." "What does you means? I ams de only good things about this band!" An extended period of silence, then Skwisgaar gave the address and said, "Come as fastly as you cans."
Skwisgaar made a noise of exasperation and slid his phone into his pocket, then returned to the curb. He sat at Toki's side and took one of his hand in his. They looked after Pickles, who didn't do much but loll his head about, until Mark pulled up in a van. He looked annoyed, hair mussed like he'd been sleeping and didn't bother to brush it. This was supported by his checkered pajama pants and plain black, soft-looking shirt. He also wasn't wearing shoes, which Toki was certain was illegal while driving.
"It's one in the fuckin' mornin'," Mark grumbled as Skwisgaar and Toki lifted Pickles into the passenger seat. Toki buckled him in, feeling weird for having roles reversed, and then got in the back along with Skwisgaar. They didn't bother with seatbelts for themselves.
"So the nights ams just beginningks," Skwisgaar said, smiling at Mark.
"Maybe for you delinquents," Mark said, not really even trying to say it under his breath. He began to drive and turned the radio on, a soft classic rock station floating in the air. "Where am I supposed to drop these fuckers off?" He asked; these fuckers were assumed to mean Pickles and Toki.
Skwisgaar looked at Toki, asking for the answer himself. Toki gave Mark the address to Nathan's house, where he told his parents he was spending the night, then settled into Skwisgaar for the rest of the ride. Mark took them to Nathan's house and waited in the car, bitching to nobody in particular, as Skwisgaar and Toki carried Pickles upstairs and tucked him into bed. Pickles had passed out fully by now and they made sure to put him on his side and place a nice glass of water and some headache pills by the bed. Toki took off his kitty-ear headband and placed it around the glass of water.
"Where ams you goingks to sleep?" Skwisgaar asked Toki in a hushed voice as Toki pulled the blankets over Pickles's body. They had removed his shirt for him, and he was scrawny and innocent under the covers, curled in a loose fetal position. Toki felt a surge of fondness for his friend, followed by utter exhaustion. Toki was completely sober by then and tired from the day's activities.
"Downstairs in de basement," Toki whispered back. He looked at Pickles one last time and then exited the room. Skwisgaar walked with him to the bottom of the stairs.
"I guesses dis is goodbyes," Skwisgaar said. He had one hand on the stair post and was leaning into Toki, close to him. He kissed him. "I doesn't wants it to be."
Toki shook his head. "Me neither," he said. "When ams I goingks to be seeingks you again?" He put a hand on Skwisgaar's arm and kissed him again, needily this time, swirling his tongue around in his mouth. He wanted Skwisgaar to stay.
"Next weekend," Skwisgaar said as he pulled back from Toki. "I will meets you here. Friday. Four o'clock. Your parents ams not allowingks you to have a cell phone."
Toki shook his head and swallowed down the anger that spiked inside him at being reminded of this fact.
"So I ams guesesingks you ams not knowingks your friends' numbers," Skwisgaar continued. He sighed and rubbed his temples. "Your friends, dey ams weirds."
Toki nodded. "I knows," he said. They were still speaking softly so as to not wake the sleeping members of the household, and it felt as strange as the rest of the night, but Toki liked it. "But they ams my friends, and I loves them." He let out a long exhalation, blowing a piece of hair away from his face and feeling the extent to which he was exhausted in every part of his body.
Skwisgaar ran a thumb down Toki's jawline and then leaned in to kiss him one last time. "Whats an oddsical night," he said. He took Toki in a tight hug, pressing their bodies together. Toki rested his head against Skwisgaar and held onto him. He really did want him to stay.
"I had a good time," Toki said into the fabric of Skwisgaar's shirt. Skwisgaar, still holding Toki, leaned back and looked him over. He smiled a fond little smile.
"Me too. Well, goodbyes, Toki. Sleep tights. Don't let de bed bugs bite." And with that. Skwisgaar was gone.
Toki locked the door after him and put a frozen pizza in the oven. He propped himself up on the kitchen counter and dozed until the smell of pizza was too strong to ignore and pulled him from his slumber. He carried the pizza down with him to the basement and ate the whole thing without cutting it as he watched television, first the news, then a sitcom that was sort of funny. He briefly considered trying to jack off again and desired that he was too tired to, then stretched out on the couch underneath a soft quilt and an even softer pillow, both of which he found in the closet. He was stripped down to his boxers, hoodie, shorts shoes and socks all stranded between the couch and television, and the combined softness of blanket, couch and pillow felt heavenly. He finally fell asleep with a full stomach to a children's cartoon on Disney channel, arms wrapped around the remote. What an oddsical day indeed.