A/N: Man, what is with GG fans, no slash? Yeah, I still haven't decided, slash is my forte, but then again…I don't know about Luke…ah, whatever. This chapter isn't as good as the last once cause I did it in like an hour and all the poetries kind of gone, I do that, I very from writing styles via chapters.

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A marked man, all strewn up in the rafters

Swaying

As though concaved inward,

over that last open sea

Pushing back the reminisce of it

A weathered affair that breaks the properties of itself

Personal oblivion

Scrutinized to the point of obscurity

That half golden tassel that falls into your face

Dream Boys

Luke was pissed, no, he was beyond pissed, he was fuming. He returns to the dinner at 6:30 only to find that apparently Jess had chosen to closer the diner early, and had neglected to lock the damn door, not the mention the place was a mess, half eaten lunches and dinners covered in ants from one side of the dinner to another.

True, Jess was not the most trustworthy kid in the world, but Luke had assumed that the kid had enough sense to at least lock up, small town or not.

Luke scrunched his face in annoyance when he realized that the reason he couldn't get a call in was because the phone was off the hook, dangling on the ground. Luke reached down and set the phone back in its cradle, then, at the top of his lungs yelled from halfway up the stairs.

"JESS!" Luke stomped his feet over the stairs, making as much noise as he could, opening and slamming the door shut as loud as he could, and set and/or threw his tool belt onto the table, as loud as he could.

(Does Jess have his own room or no? I don't think he does, and in this he won't)

He looked towards Jess's bed, fully ready to yell at the boy to high heaven, but that was only because he had yet to look at the boy in question, and when Luke finally really did look at the boy, he felt his guts twist, for real.

Jess was sat up on his bed, clad only in a matte pair of boxers, and wrapped up lightly in his sheets that hung off his small shoulders. But that wasn't what stopped Luke; he had seen Jess in this state many times, what stopped him was Jess' eyes. Luke had never seen Jess like this before, his eyes were wide and…almost childlike, as thought suddenly he was a kid again, and full of tears.

Tears were streaming down his cheeks that he made no movie to wipe away. He let them fall, one by one. His eye lashes stuck together, his fingers twisting under his chin, his entire body shaking, Jess was broken.

Luke had no idea what to do, with his hands, with his feet, he didn't know how to take care of this Jess, this shell of a boy that once was. Luke took a step towards Jess, and then took it back; he was torn, so torn he didn't know whom his voice belonged to.

"Jess what…?" Luke suddenly hated the sound of his own voice, it was deep, too deep, not the kind of voice that comforts people, it's the voice that would scare you most if you heard it alone in the woods.

Jess didn't seem to be able to understand what Luke was asking, then, as suddenly as light Jess's eyes got wider, his mouth hung open, and he corned himself backwards on to his bed. Not a word, not a sound, nothing made at all.

The was enough to move Luke, enough to fuel him to get close to this mysterious person masquerading in Jess's skin. He pulled at one of his shoulders, trying to get up, trying to get Jess to look at him, tell what was wrong, what happened, who he was.

Luke did not expect Jello, not from Jess. Jess had never, not once in his life been Jello, he had never been a boy you could manipulate and movie around at your own will. Sometimes he would be rock, you couldn't move him no matter how hard you pushed, other times, he could be sand, he would move, but it wouldn't be easy, but now, as Jess came attached to his shoulder into a surprised Luke's chest, he was Jello.

Luke didn't hold to sniveling boy to his chest, he was too scared, Luke didn't want to touch this Jess anymore, he didn't want to break this Jess that could so easily be broken. Luke held his arms out at his sides, not knowing what to do with them, not knowing what to do with himself. He was the wrong person for this, to be holding Jess.

Jess was crying again, not the one that would make him through up, but the kind that meant he just wasn't finished yet. Jess more or less cried to himself, the soft wall that supported him did not move to hug or protect him like the other ones had, he didn't like it here, not at all. He didn't like anything about anything.

"Moms dead." Jess croaked.

Luke slid to the floor, causing Jess's head to fall and hit the side of his bed, but the Jello boy allowed it, its what they did, they fell when no one held them up. Luke understood and yet at the same time, he didn't. He wanted to ask if he'd heard Jess right, but he knew he had, he wanted to deny it, with everything in him, but he couldn't. but most of all, what he wanted most, was to wake up.

Neither Jess nor Luke woke up; they were stuck in this dream, this horribly sad and perverse dream. Luke sobbed against Jess's bed, and Jess held his stomach and cried to himself.

One, hidden under a pillow, the other hidden in his hands, one empty, the other full, and in the night air that gradually consumed them they were the saddest dream boys the sand man had ever put to sleep.

OO

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Finished, yeah I know, its not that good, I was mostly bored when I wrote this, very little inspiration. Poems mine.

Slash or no slash?

REVIEW PLEASE.