"Run away with me," he whisper-pleaded, kissing along Marshall's jawline with the finesse of an experienced professional. The two had parked the quaint car in a vacant lot (which had been surprisingly easy to find, given the fact they were out travelling in the overpopulated city) and transitioned their interaction to the ever so welcoming backseat, where Bubba had eased himself into straddling position atop Marshall's lap, sliding smoothly into place like the final piece of a puzzle, like he naturally belonged there. And maybe he did.

Marshall smirked, intently focused on the rustling sounds of their bodies collided against one another and the chirp of the birds distanced from them, past any human's natural grasp. He detected a hint of cologne along the Bubba's shirt collar, somewhat flowery but just subtle enough that the scent could have easily gone unnoticed. Despite his general flamboyancy there was a large portion of femininity which Bubba kept tucked just under the surface, virtually inaccessible to those who would humiliate him for his homosexuality.

"Very funny."

Bubba cleared his throat.

"I don't think you quite understand. I'm being completely serious."

Marshall abruptly shook his head; something that there was hardly any proper space for given their current positioning, but due to impulse it happened just the same. His house keys jangled in his pocket, cold metal against denim against flesh.

"C'mon Bubbs. You've got to know we can't just run away..."

His entourage immediately entered defensive mode.

"And why can't we? Would you not go with me anywhere I asked whenever I asked it? Be it just out of town, or to the ends of the earth?"

Damn.

Lee focused his gaze outward, through the tinted window and somehow beyond it. It was quite the bold and shameless declaration, but Bubba didn't exactly leave room for rebuttal within the statement. And when did he ever?

"Of course I probably might consider it,"

Marshall paused,

"if it was really what you wanted."

The rustling had ceased a fairly considerable amount, but the bird chirps remained partially present, despite constantly being muffled by the barrier of the thick window glass. Marshall tried to wait in perfect silence for an answer to be given, but his own heavy breaths kept interrupting the concept.

"Well it is what I want," Bubba retorted,

"And it's not as if you've got any good reason to stay around here anyways. No friends at school, no good marks, no parents..."

Despite attempting to fully disguise his reaction, Marshall visibly stiffened at the last comment. He had his limits.

Bubba winced apologetically.

"Sorry."

The other teen sighed in response, breathing in the stale car air. There were remnants of stagnant air freshener in the atmosphere, probably meant to expel the stereotypical "car" smell, or at the very least mask it.

"No. You're right. But that doesn't change the fact that if we were to just up and leave, at the very least you'd come to regret it."

"What makes you think that?"

"Isn't it obvious? You'd miss Angel. You'd worry about him constantly, especially considering now is when he needs you most. Bubs, it's been a week and you haven't even visited him yet."

Bubba just smiled, playing with the darkened strands of hair atop Lee's head. He was listening, but not really.

"You overestimate my ability to harness compassion, Marshall."

Marshall Lee closed his eyes, just taking in the feeling of the hand in his hair and the hand massaging his back, just taking in the smell of the car and the melody of the birds, taking in whatever he could absorb into his memory and retrace his mind back to later when he needed it most.

"In contrary, I think you underestimate it."

Bubba kissed the other boy, pinning his back up against the rear car seat. Always with the pinning.

"Mm, my Angel will be just fine without me, he's a big boy."

Marshall didn't object the movements, but he also certainly wasn't physically reciprocating, and that much was quite obvious.

Does he even hear himself when he speaks?

"Or-he won't. He's not looking so good as of late, what with tubes sticking out his nostrils and up his ass."

Bubba chose to ignore that specific reply, but Marshall noticed he was no longer smiling, not even trying to.

"C'mon Bubbs, he's your best friend! I personally don't even like the kid, and even I know you can't just leave him stranded and abandoned in a hospital room."

No response was given to that specific statement. Marshall wasn't sure whether or not pressing the issue further would do either of them any good.

"I'm skipping town, and you're coming with. It's nonnegotiable."

For a prolonged moment Marshall didn't reply. Even outside of the validity of Angel's predicament, would he really tag along with someone he'd only started seeing intimately just recently? Would he really leave behind everything he knew (regardless of the general dumpiness of this "everything") for someone who probably didn't even know his favorite color?

...Did Bubba know his favorite color?

"Hey, what's my favorite color?"

Bubba raised an eyebrow at him, slightly bewildered by the spontaneousness of such a question. His soft caramel eyes stared at the other's curiously, his mouth curled into an innocent, unknowing pout. Up until that point, Marshall had always assumed he was a blue eye kind of guy.

Apparently he had been wrong.

"Excuse me?"

Marshall narrowed his eyes.

"That's what I thought, you don't even know my favorite color. And I probably wouldn't know yours either, if you didn't plaster it all over your body at all times. We hardly know each other at all, and that needs to change if you're planning that we fucking elope or some gay shit like that. We need to spend time together, and not just doing…these things."

"You have some sort of problem with these things?"

Marshall sighed. He struggled breathe, counted to ten and closed his eyes. Sometimes he found it easier to see things when he couldn't see anything at all.

"You know what I mean."

"I'm not so sure that I do. Are you...aggressively asking me out?"

Marshall's chest rose and fell as his breathing readily quickened, and the other teen could quite obviously feel the rapid heartbeat resting humbly just beneath his smooth palm, a sensitive stone just pulsing underneath its exterior surface, unable to break free.

"What if I am?"

For a moment only the birds continued to speak audibly.

"We can talk about this after you gather your things, but until that point it's not worth your mentioning. I'm sure you understand why."

Marshall just sulked, slumping his bony shoulders forward so he was almost falling on top of the boy perched above him. He tried to reign in his breathing. This was quite obviously a rather common problem for him. His dark hair flopped forward onto his face, to the point where he couldn't perceive anything but black. (He really needed a haircut.) He wasn't sure whether he was more exhausted or agitated, but his body, apart from his lungs, more properly expressed the former.

"You will be coming with me, correct?"

This was the first time Lee had been asked as opposed to directed.

"I thought it was nonnegotiable," he quipped.

Bubba rolled his eyes.

"Was. I mean, but there's got to be something I could do to persuade you..."

The prince kissed along the slope of the other teen's neck, downward past his shirt collar, stomach, and belt buckle.

Marshall squirmed at the sound of his pants zipper, but his facial expression remained harsh and firm, despite the vibrant color in his cheeks. "There you go again, always bringing it back to stuff like this. This is exactly what I'm talking about. This is the problem. It really is all you know, is-"

Marshall gasped.

His legs were propped up against the back of the passenger seat, making access that much easier. However, due to the fact that they were trembling so, Bubba had to use both of his hands on either side to hold them in place amidst the transaction. It was a pure balancing act on both accounts, as backs of car seats are so clearly unequipped for such proceedings.

"Wh-What was that?"

Bubba looked up.

"Hm?"

"I swear I heard something...like a phone."

"No, I'm quite certain that you definitely heard nothing of the sort. Just your mind playing tricks."

The phone buzzed a second time. By now there would be no way of convincing Marshall that he had fabricated such a noise.

If not for all this sudden buzzing Bubba would have sworn that he had turned the device on silent before they had gotten in the car. But then again, it seemed with each passing day he grew more careless. More teen-like, if you will.

"Give it to me."

"I'm trying."

Marshall blushed. Always with the blushing. Everything with him was wedding night, and to feel that passionate over the bare concept of romance or sexuality was a feeling foreign to Bubba. He on the other hand, was lucky to get butterflies.

"Not that, you moron! The phone."

"What phone?" Bubba pressed, ignoring the glares that the question received him. As if a mind so enamored in the English language could never manage to wrap itself around whatever Marshall was going on about.

"Oh, so I'm just making this up am I? I'm going fucking crazy?"

Bubba blinked innocently, face full of perfunctory confusion.

"Making what up?"

Marshall was looking down on him as if he had tasted of something rank and sour. Even his ears seemed to drop southbound, mimicking that of a lost pup's expression.

"My bad for thinking you were genuinely done hiding things."

"From what I recall I really only promised I'd stop lying, and there is a difference."

Marshall zipped his pants back up, anxiously fumbling with his broken belt. He really needed to buy a new one, but what with gas prices and dead parents, it was hard for a teenage boy to remain financially stable.

The hole he was aiming for was torn so thoroughly that he eventually gave up and settled for poking a new one, grateful to Bubba for not mentioning his obvious poverty and making things far more awkward than they already were.

"Either way you're breaking your promise right now, so..."

"It's nothing you should concern yourself about, really," Bubba pleaded.

"Then why work so hard at hiding it?"

"Because it's none of your business, that's why!"

"Whatever, it's fine," he lied. Crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"Forget I said anything."

Bubba groaned. "Cut me some slack why don't you? Life's hard enough without your constant pestering and dramatics."

"I said whatever. I just think it's totally obnoxious and dumb to hide things from me seeing as though you know everything there is to know about me, but it's fine. You do you sweetie. Not my business."

"Marshall."

"I mean, it's probably just one of your millions upon millions of butt-buddies looking for a hook up, and it's not like I want to be reminded of that anyways."

"Marshall."

"And it's not as if you have some obligation to hold up your end of the one single measly promise you made me, even if I kept all of mine and I've told you I love you like five and a half times by now and I wrote you those- "

"-MARSHALL!"

He jumped, almost kneeing his present company in the face.

"Yea?"

"I'll give you my damn phone, if you'll shut up for a second. I can't hear myself think. And watch the knees, you only get one head per lifetime and I've grown somewhat fond of mine."

"Really?"

Marshall tried not to look too excited over having won something for the second time in his life. He failed.

"And you have to promise not to freak out, okay?" Bubba was fearful of another panic attack, something he was completely incapable of handling. Physical wounds were one thing, but he was still figuring out his own junk mentally and emotionally. Bubba handed Marshall the phone, not bothering to avoid making that extra bit of skin-on-skin contact. And it was nice, not having to worry about that sort of a thing.

"Okay?" Bubs asked, for the second time. Still no answer.

Marshall picked up the phone. He turned it on. Looked at the screen.

"Oh my god."

I have actually had this drafted out for oh god I don't wanna know how many months/years...but I glossed over it real quick tonight and it's just been collecting dust, so ya'll can have it and my new NEW chapter will be better. Some of you may have noticed that I've been updating subtle revisions of all earlier chapters. I wanted to finish that before anything "new", but I've gotten to like chapter 31 of revisions or me just rereading it and ensuring I'm okay enough (or lazy enough) to let it sit some more.

To be honest I'm even scared to put this up because I don't think it's that good but I don't think I can stare at it any longer, you know? I feel guilty for just letting this story sit after so many people have started to care about it so I'm not going to. Uhhh I made a more elaborate post on my tumblr (it's "lyingtoyourinstincts" as well) about where I've been and what I'm now working on, and my feelings about this story and all the generally positive feedback I've seen. I even think I remember I saw someone comment that they've read a fanfic...OF this fanfic? I don't know what that means but I'm flattered. And even when I'm working on my other stories or no fics at all I still read every single message/comment because they make me happy. Uhhh..that's it I guess because if you need to know more you can find my tumblr. Sorry for being gone and this long A/N and this not too amazing chapter. After I finish updating revisions I'll try to update at least one of my three current stories each week, maybe two, depends. And thanks again. And bye. -Writer