Fever Dreams

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Chapter 5: Startled

~Ethan~
This is not seriously happening.
Well, I guess if this had been a dream I’d have woken up by now with a woody and drool on my face. This has to be real. No other explanation.
Still, it’s hard to believe I have Silas pinned between my body and the sink. He’s killing me right now, too. His supple ass is rubbing against me in all the right places, and one of his hands just reached back to grip the hair at the back of my head. I had my hand in the same position: buried in his hair, pulling his head back to allow myself access to the creamy skin of his throat. He tastes sweet, but at the same time, salty from sweat. Fuck, I’m seriously going to die at this rate.
I turned him around to face me, gripping the backs of his thighs and hoisting him up onto the counter. Looking into those icy eyes, even more transparent with lust, I know he wants this as bad as I do. Both hands have now burrowed into my hair, and he’s smiling lightly and slowly ending my life.
“Your hair’s really soft,” he said.
I nodded, throat dry. I felt his hands push, pulling me closer and straight into those soft, pink lips. Groaning, I wound my arms around his waist, and situated myself between his legs. Our lips mold together slowly, deliberately. Fuck, this was exactly how I’d imagined it. I love Silas. Everything about him is just so--
BRRRRRRRRRING!
Well, so much for that.
Both of us flinched, and Silas bit down on my lip by accident. I broke away, rushing for a tissue for my bleeding lip, and he followed me, apologizing over and over.
Holding a tissue against my lip, I tried to smile reassuringly at him. “It’s fine. You were startled.”
“Shit, I’m seriously sorry,” he whispered, lifting my hand and planting feather light kisses along my knuckles.
I took my hand back. “Easy, cutie, I’m trying to will my erection down before class.”
He blushed, eyes darting around to avoid looking at my crotch. “Yeah. Uh. Sorry.”
“Quit saying sorry. You’ll make it up to me.” I paused. “Maybe, say, at my house Friday night?”
His eyes met mine. “Like…a date?”
I nodded. “Don’t sound so surprised. In case what just happened didn’t clear it up, I’m really, uh, into you.”
“Me too. Uh, into you, not me.” He chuckled nervously.
“So six?”
He nodded. “What’s your address? I’ll drive there.”
“82 Upton. My mom will probably be there. She leaves for work a little after six. Don’t…say anything, you know what I mean?”
“Yeah. You’re not out.”
“Well, I wasn’t sure until now. That I like guys, I mean. Although, it should have been obvious. Picturing women turns me off so…”
He laughed. “I get it. Well, sort of. I’m bi, so I like both. Mainly guys though.”
“Yeah…”
And for the rest of the day, it was almost like nothing happened. We went about our day. Although, if anyone had looked close enough, they’d have noticed Silas and I share looks in the hallway.
Today’s Wednesday and Friday seems too far away.


I don’t know why, but I’m always driving the long route home. I guess it’s because I didn’t like to face my mom. No, that isn’t very viable. She’s been clean for little longer than I’ve been driving. Maybe it’s the fact that the long route takes me through Palomino, Silas’s street. No, he’s only been here for a short time. No one would believe that.
Alright, alright. The truth is that I like to park on Jenson and look at the old, abandoned house and just…stare at it. I know what you’re thinking, and no, it’s not stalking because no one lives there.
Why, you ask? Well, why does anyone do anything, per se? To answer your question, though, I guess I just like to sit here and think. It’s a calming sight, that house. Its foundation is crumbling; the floors are falling in. The walls seem to warp in, as if trying to reach each other. Altogether, the house just looks like it’s getting a hug.
Aren’t I weird?
Anyway, I don’t know why it is but the house just makes me feel at peace. In comparison, I could never be falling apart as badly as that house that could turn to dust any second. No matter how broken I am, the house has more problems.
That’s actually where I am right now. I’m sitting in front of that house reflecting on my time with Silas. It was an experiment, okay? I wanted to see if I’d enjoy kissing him as much as I like looking at him. It was super crazy. My stomach was going crazy, but in a good way. My hands were sweaty, again, in a good way. Is that weird?
I can’t believe I asked him out. I didn’t even mean to. My mouth just went faster than my thought process, which was still stuck on Silas’s taste.
Man, his taste. Like a strawberry, but it was a little salty. That sounds like it would be gross but, hell, it’s amazing. It’s him, you know? And kissing him was amazing. Until he bit me. That was a bit kinky, though, I’m not gonna lie.
Fuck, I’m a huge pervert.
I started the car, and finished my drive home. Pulling into the garage, I found Kallie climbing on the hood of Mom’s car.
“Hey, munchkin, you know Dad told you not to do that,” I told her.
The eight-year-old stuck her tongue out at me.
I went into the house, and called, “Hey Mom! Your daughter is playing on the…hood…”
I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw a bottle of gin on the counter, half empty. Fuck. No no no. I ran into the living room, then the bathroom, then her bedroom; all of these places are where she goes to pass out, usually. From her window, I could see into the backyard and noticed a figure clad in an orange blouse.
When I made it outside, it had started raining. I hurried over to my mother crumpled in a heap next to the fence. Taking off my jacket, I laid it over her to try and keep her warm.
“Fuck, Mom,” I muttered to myself. “You were sober for two years. What happened?”
A gurgled reply was all I received. I went inside to call Dad.


~Silas~
After school, I came home. Ground-breaking stuff, I know. But today was weird because I heard two voices coming from the living room.
Mr. McHale, my dad, had left a long, long time ago. Therefore, hearing a male voice down the hall in the living room got me pretty excited. I ran into the room, but it wasn’t him. My mother and the stranger looked up at me, surprised that I’d ran in.
“Honey, how are you?” my mother asked.
I look a lot like my mom. It’s easy to tell I’m hers. I inherited her big, ice-textured eyes, her cheekbones, her short stature, her thin eyebrows, and her odd-shaped ears. I’m very feminine, I suppose. I mean, I got the shape of my face from my dad, but even he didn’t have a very wide-set jaw. I also got his black hair and skinny frame. Again, I’m very feminine. Growing up, my mother liked to dress me as a little girl to mess with people. It worked; anyway, sorry, I’m getting off-topic.
Matter-at-hand: Mom, man, couch, knees touching, glasses of wine. Shit.
“Who’s this, Mother?” I asked pointedly.
She pursed her lips. “This is Grey Lintel. Grey, this is my lovely son Silas, who is polite with strangers.” I felt like that last part was added as a subliminal warning.
Grey Lintel. What the hell kind of name is that? Grey is a color and a lintel is like a support beam or something.
“Nice to meet you, Silas,” he said pleasantly.
“I met Grey at the supermarket today,” my mom explained. “Can you believe he’s a bachelor?”
“Was, that is, if your mother accepts my dinner proposal for Friday night,” Grey threw in.
My mother blushed. Mom why are you blushing!? Stop it! “Of course, Grey, I’d love to.”
And that’s how I ended up rushing up the stairs and flinging face-first into my bed.
And that would probably how I got to have a talk with Mr. Boyfriend. He strutted into my room like he owned the place, and plopped down next to me.
“There’s this lovely invention called knocking, have you heard of it?” I asked rhetorically.
“Listen here, kiddo, I’m dating your mother and you better act as giddy as a fucking schoolgirl because I will not hesitate to kick your scrawny ass, understand,” he threatened.
Wow, this guy really gets to the point. Eyes wide, I nodded quickly.
“Good,” he said, leaving the room.
I hate you, Grey Lintel.

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