Author's notes: This is written on January 12th, 2003. Written while listening to Disease sung by Matchbox Twenty, so excuse the insanity. No wait, embrace insanity...ha!

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Disturbance

It was all so vivid and clear. Golden flesh that trembles and shakes beneath his fingers, so warm and so smooth to the touch… A mouth that is soft and sweet and yielding…arms that wrapped around him for dear life in the heat of passion…and those eyes and that face, smiling and trusting and pure bliss.

Cyanide Torres had woke up at around four in the morning, hard, and unable to go back to sleep. His dreams having once again been invaded by the beautiful Italian, the one who were only supposed to be the best friend, and nothing other.

Lately though, his dreams protested through sceneries of Skids and him engaging in definitely more than best friends activities.

It could start out with nothing more than memories of talking over ice cream, marker tats…than something like the increasingly numerous kisses they shared in jest, and here is where surreality takes over, bending these mere memories of simple things into something that never was and never will be.

More and more these dreams ended with Cyanide Torres making passionate love to Skids, and each day the Latino dreaded and willed for the night, the night and the dreams of that other so warm and solid in his arms.

But they are just dreams, and Cyanide Torres don't like boys. He doesn't want Skids; he wants Ronnie, because Cyanide Torres is the hetero one.

He had never dreamt about Ronnie, no dreams that he could recall, but he definitely never had any as intense as the ones involving Skids. In fact, what he felt in the morning after the dreams was much more intense than what he felt about Ronnie, who was nice and pretty and funny. Ronnie who is his girlfriend…who truly loves him and whom he truly…

Love?

"I love Ronnie…I love Ronnie…I love Ronnie…" Cyanide wished he could call her, but Ronnie is having a sleepover at some aunt's house and she didn't gave him the number there, and they have no computer there either. That's really too bad, because the drummer really wants to talk to Ronnie right now, he wants to hear Ronnie's voice…

There have been dreams starring figures such as Karen Winters, that girl that curves all the right way in his law class. There have been many dreams in fact, many dreams about many girls, but they stopped long before he met Ronnie.

There used to be the usual agent double-oh-sexy combating against random villain or villains, and as usual winning and walking off to bed some sexy babe, or even babes. And than Cyanide'll wake up smiling and smirking to himself about how the great Cyanide Torres still manage to be active in his sleep, even after a good lay.

Yet it's been a long time since Cyanide slept with a girl, not that there weren't offers, but he turned them all down until the girls got the message and stopped asking. The erotic dreams continued though, but now Karen and others were replaced by a certain Skids DiAngelo, and since then he dreamt of no one else.

Every night they are there, and everyone one of them so real Cyanide almost believed that it was when he woke, until he turned and found the bed empty but of him. And for moments Cyanide would still desperately hope that it wasn't just a dream, that Skids' had only gone out for a breath of flesh air, and the boy will slip into the room at any moment now, face still flushed from last night. Then they will kiss again and…

Cyanide doesn't like boys, but he is dreaming about a boy…with soft hazel hair framing those soft hazel eyes, eyes that shone with such beautiful innocence…

Dios…fuck this.

Having decided to abandon this topic once again, Cyanide finished dressing and checked the clock, and was surprised to see that two hours had already passed by. It was still mighty early, but Cyanide was planning to go out and attempt to jog away his current anxiety.

"Love me, Cyanide…love me please?" And Skids had sounded so desperate yet so sweet, all spread out on those sheets with innocent abandon…all for him...all this for him.

Skids shouldn't be in his dreams, but he is. Cyanide shouldn't dream about a boy at all, but he did. This thing, this whole thing is but a disturbance. Cyanide felt as if he is being thrown off balance by the everything-that-shouldn't-be-but-is-comet…crashing through the formerly organized world of his mind.

Comet? Damn he needed to run, set off like there's fire under his feet, and run and run and run…

As Cyanide Torres bent to tied his laces, he noticed what a mess they are in. Luckily he was good at untying knots; a skill sharpened from helping to untangle Skids' shoelaces all the time. How that boy manage…

And there it was again, those eyes and hair and arms and warmth pressed –

Skids…Skids…Skids…

______________________________

Characters and Universe created by Sandra Fuhr, in Boy Meets Boy.

http://boymeetsboy.keenspace.com

Fanfiction by GSYH, yours truly.

Home: Earthen Elysian - A Skids and Cyanide Shrine

http://www.angelfire.com/comics/gsyh_boymeetsboy/index.html

Cyanide and Skids Fanfiction

http://www.angelfire.com/comics/gsyh_boymeetsboy/Fiction.html