We Only Come Out at Night
I take a deep breath. This night is technically no different than any other in the autumn; the weather remains stagnant throughout most of the season, but there’s something that feels like death in the way the air hangs heavy, swirls just a little more eerie and wonderful. I wonder if Mother Nature knows that this night is supposed to make your skin crawl.
I’m not sure how it happened, but somehow, I ended up sitting in a cemetery with a bottle of Jack Daniel’s and a pretty boy I just met beside me. He’s been giggling for a little over an hour now, and his face is flushed in all the right places, and I’m pretty sure I’ve tried to kiss him a few times, but he’s so drunk, he always turns his head away. I met him at a bad costume party, where he was dressed as a football player, which was only too awkward to see because he’s built so small. We got to talking, and he knew his costume was lame, and then he was snatching the booze from the fridge and ditching his costume, and here we are.
He’s wearing all black, and his skin is a lovely olive. He falls back against the grass and stares up at the sky, and I love the way the moonlight falls over him. He turns big dark eyes toward me, and a slow smile finds his face. “I like Halloween.” He offers quietly. He is never too loud, even when he gets to giggling, like he knows he’s in a cemetery. He rolls over, nuzzling his cheek against my knee and closing his eyes. “You know, we’ve lived down the street from each other our whole lives.”
My eyebrows lift. I tug my fingers through his tangled hair and find that he has grass in it. He’s so much like a school boy, but I know he can’t be more than a couple years younger than me. “Yeah? Why haven’t I ever seen you before?”
He hiccups, shrugging. “You’ve never looked.” His grin is slow, and his fingers tug at the hem of my shirt, pulling it from my pants. “But, you noticed me when I was a football player…”
“Yes, because you looked so stupid.” I quip, sucking in a breath when I feel his fingers against the skin of my stomach. He leans up, pushes me back, and I lay down. He’s unbuttoning my shirt, and I’m not really sure what he has in mind, but his hands are nice so I let him continue. I tug him onto me by his hips, and he straddles my waist. “I like you much better how you look right now.”
He gives a little giggle, reaching for the bottle. I watch his Adam’s apple bob as he takes a long drink. “Halloween’s a funny Holiday.” He offers quietly, sitting back on his heels and staring up at the sky. I can’t help but slide my hand up his throat, curling my hand around the nape of his neck. He smiles down at me. “It’s sort of a day to be anything you want to be, isn’t it?”
I nod. “What do you want to be?”
His eyes light up, and he’s off me in another moment, his arms out wide, golden liquid splashing from the bottle in his right hand. He makes a sound that reminds me of wind. “An airplane!” He pauses, turning to look at me, and holds his hands out in front of him, like he’s gripping a steering wheel. “Or Speed Racer!”
I haul myself to my feet, stumbling and laughing as I watch him wind his way through the tombstones.
He screeches to a halt in front of me, his expression changing. His arm slides around my neck, his fingers winding into my curls, and he tugs my head back. My mouth opens slightly, and I feel whiskey falling in a thin stream down my throat. “Or I could be a fountain…” His voice has changed too; it’s lower, more sultry. “I could let you drink from me.” He pulls back, takes another gulp of the drink, and I can’t take my eyes of his mouth. “What do you think I should be?”
I hook my finger into his belt loop and tug him in toward me. He curls an arm around my neck, pressing his body up against mine. I feel his teeth sink into my lip. My fingers curl around his hips, and I laugh softly. “I think you should be… on my cock.” I can’t believe I said it once it’s out; it’s rude and inappropriate and vulgar and…
Joe bursts into a fit of giggles. “That’s very suave, Mr. Bond.” He squeaks when I pull our hips together, and his eyelids lower. I hear the bottle hit the ground. I’m not sure who moves first, but our lips come together. His tongue curls into my mouth, and he tastes like booze and chocolate. He pulls away from me, and for a moment, his eyes are serious. His fingers wind in my curls. “You’re beautiful.” He murmurs. I push my tongue back into his mouth, my hands slipping into his back pockets.
We sink to the ground, somehow, without parting. I lay on my back, and he curls up against me, leaning on his hand on my chest, and we kiss slowly, my fingers stroking through his hair. He is alternately playful and shy, and I like this affectionate quiet in him now. He’s so lovely, and his body is soft against my side, and I’m thinking I like Halloween a little more for this mock football player it’s given me for the night.
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The sun peeks through the headstones, and I groan, rolling over and pushing my face against Joe’s chest. My head is pounding, and there’s something annoyingly nudging against my right side. I groan, blinking my eyes open and see a blurred face about me. “What?”
“You boys need to get out of here.” It’s a cop. Oh, shit. “I know last night was Halloween, so I’m going to let it slide, but if someone else finds you here, you might not be so lucky.”
I sit up, rubbing my eye, and I turn to shake Joe awake. The police officer is already walking away, and Joe moans, nuzzling his cheek into my shirt, blinking his eyes open. Funnily enough, we didn’t have sex. I was sure we were going to, but then he just looked so beautiful and sleepy that I pulled him on top of me and we fell asleep together. I’m not regretting the decision this morning, because he looks just as beautiful and pleasant with his hair mussed and with a red mark on his cheek from where it was pressed to my shirt. “Hey. Good morning. I’m sure you’re much more hung-over than I am.”
“Mhm.” He presses his hand to the side of his head. I stand and help him up, and he murmurs a “Thank you…” and leans against me.
I chuckle, finding my jacket and curling it around his shoulders. “I’ll walk you home.”
I do, and it’s a quiet walk. We’re both sleepy and maybe still a little bit drunk. He leans into my side and murmurs things from time to time, and once points out a smashed pumpkin so I don’t step on it, but it’s relatively quiet, and we reach his door quickly. He bites his lip as he turns to look at me and holds my jacket out for me to take. “Thank you.” He says softly. “For not taking advantage of my crazy drunkenness.”
“You’re welcome.” He turns to go inside. “Hey, Joe?” He looks back at me, his hand on the doorknob. “After we’ve both… taken some aspirin and slept for a while longer, would you want to go to breakfast with me?”
His smile is soft. He nods. “How about apple pancakes at the pancake house around noon?”
I take a deep breath. “Yeah. I’ll pick you up.” He slips into his house and closes the door behind him. I shove my hands into my pockets and start the walk to my house down the street. Yeah, this has been a lovely Halloween.