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Sal's eyes shot open. He could feel his heart pounding, and immediately recognized the dampness on his scarred skin as sweat. The images, clear in his mind, of his own face staring back at him. Tinted red, blood dripping down his face, and his mouth shouting at him. Only, it was Larry's voice.
"I hate you! I HATE YOU!"
Over and over again, like an obnoxious alarm he couldn't turn off. Sal couldn't keep himself from rolling over to face the wall and letting a few quiet sobs escape his throat. Of course it wasn't real, it was only a nightmare, and he was familiar enough with those. Sometimes, though... Sometimes they just push the exact buttons. Sal's breathing slowed to a ragged wheeze as he rubbed the tears and other involuntary facial fluids off on his blanket. He could wash it later. The time displayed on his tv screen blinked 2:46. A sigh escaped Sal, finally calm and brushing his hair away from the sweat on his forehead. He grabbed his walkie-talkie from under his pillow and clicked the button to speak, but let it unclick again. What if Larry was asleep? What if he was having GOOD dreams and didn't want to be woken up? No, Sal knew that wasn't the case. It was never the case. Larry was ALWAYS fine with Sal coming down, especially if he needed comforting. Perhaps that was Lisa's personality rubbing off on him.
Sal ran his fingers through his hair, watching it fall in uneven, stringy strands in front of his face, contemplating what to say over the walkie-talkie. He clicked the button again, holding it down.
"La-", he began, but stopped at how raspy and high pitched his voice was. He cleared his throat. "Larry... Larry Face, are you awake...?"
He made sure to whisper, in case Larry was asleep after all. 'If he's sleeping, I won't bother him.' Sal thought. Nothing came back through the walkie-talkie and Sal sighed to himself. Even though he felt bad for it, he wouldn't deny that he had desperately hoped there'd be a cheerful and immediate answer. He stared down at the black device in his hands, hardly able to see it in the dark, before setting it next to himself on the bed. A movement next to his arm made him jump, until Gizmo popped into view and the steady purr rumbled from the cat's chest.
"You scared me, you fat butt."
Despite the insult, Sal smiled down at the cat and cupped his little orange face in his hands, rubbing over his whiskers. The slight crackle from the walkie-talkie made him recoil his hands and snap his head over to look, earning a disgruntled mrowl from Gizmo.
"Sal? Did you say something?" Larry's somewhat groggy voice echoed through. Sal hesitated before picking it up.
"Yeah, I did..."
"Oh, sorry man. I was in the bathroom, but I thought I heard the walkie when I was comin' back. Did you need something? Is everything alright..?"
"I'm-..." He paused. "I'm.. okay, I guess. Just wanted to see if you were up."
"I am now."
Sal was about to press the button, but Larry chimed in again, quietly. "Was it another nightmare?" Not that it could have been much else at 3 am. He rubbed the heel of his hand at the dried tears he'd missed in the corner of his eye. "You know me too well."
"You gonna come down here so I can give you a hug or what?"
"...Of course."
"Knock when you get down here, but be quiet about it. Mom's sleepin', I'll let you in."
He set the walkie-talkie down, unable to wipe the small smile off his face. The fact that Larry (and his mom, for that matter) was always so welcoming never failed to make him a little more hopeful. He grabbed his prosthetic but paused. 'Not yet'. Opening his door as quietly as he could, he made his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth first. His dad's snoring didn't falter a bit, so he was safe. Not that Sal planned on using his mouth much, but the idea of going down to see Larry with gross sleep breath had become more of a concern in the last few months. Plus, the mask just made his breath push back up into his nose, so he'd prefer to be minty fresh whenever he might have to talk with it on. Sal contemplated leaving his hair down, but shrugged and put it up anyway, before heading back to his room to throw on socks and his face. Gizmo rubbed at his legs, and Sal wished he could take Gizmo down with him sometimes... But the cat was pretty self-sufficient, he'd always find ways to satisfy himself while Sal was gone. 'Alright, breath, good... face, good. Hair, fine... Geez, I sound like I'm getting ready for a date.'
Even though he wasn't. Clearly. He was just going to go somewhere he felt more comfortable, right?
Trying to convince himself never worked. Sal knew he was feeling SOMETHING toward Larry. Something that made him feel pretty fuzzy inside sometimes. He tossed the thoughts around in his head. 'It's probably just that we're so close. I've never had a real best friend before. Not a real, real one. And Larry is a damn good one. He actually cares and I can tell and that's. That's just awesome.' That was always his favourite explanation. It made total sense! But sometimes it just didn't make those little thoughts go away. Sometimes he wondered what Larry would be comfortable with. Would he be fine with being even closer? Cuddling? Maybe even kissing? Friends can kiss, right? Totally.
Sal stopped outside the elevator. Not that anyone would want to kiss him. Not on the mouth. Not with the way his mouth looked. No amount of minty freshness could fix that... Sal huffed to himself as he pushed the button to call up his metal ticket down to his comfort zone.
'I don't even know if I'd wanna date him. Don't really wanna date anybody. So clearly... just friends, right? Friends. Best bros. Absolute rad buds.' He inserted the key card for the basement level. These same thoughts swam round and round in his head enough times to make him feel dizzy, but he couldn't pretend they hadn't been there for a long time. How long...? Before the bologna incident, for sure, but despite the sure thought that he was about to die and be served in a sandwich, Larry's blatant "I love you!" made him grip his hair tighter, squeeze his eyes shut harder, heart skip amongst it's pounding. "I love you, too!" he had said without thinking, the words falling from his mouth. He really meant what he said. He loved Larry as a best friend, and he always would. But no, before that.
2nd floor flashed on the screen.
Was it when Larry had shown him his treehouse, confided in him about a story that made him cringe when he said it out loud? Sal rubbed his arm, lost in thought. Probably not. He thinks it was probably just real friendship that warmed that memory up for him. Though, Larry's absolute shock at seeing Megan did bring a brief thought of 'how fucking cute' to Sal's mind at the time.
That was another thing. When Sal had met Larry, upon moving in, he thought the guy was absolutely goofy looking. Nose a little long, hair a little long, LEGS a little long. He seemed just a bit off somehow, like an artist's rendition of a human rather than an actual person. And that ridiculous face he made while headbanging. Sal wondered where it was along the timeline of their friendship, their time together, that he had begun to change his mind about Larry's appearance. His legs went from 'a little long' to 'looking nice in those pants'. His hair went from 'a little long' to 'looking fluffy and clean' so that Sal wanted to touch it. And his nose went from 'a little long' to 'wow, his little mole and the bags under his eyes and his nose shape and he looks kinda pretty and kinda like his mom but sorta manly at the same time' and now Sal was just trying to physically wipe a faint blush off his 'face' as the elevator doors opened into the cold basement floor.
He looked at the empty vending machine, catching his reflection. "What the fuck is wrong with me." He asked it. Nothing on the face staring back at him moved, and he sighed. Moving on, he knocked his pink knuckles gently against the door he'd come to greet regularly. There was a quiet shuffle inside before Larry cracked the door open, smiling slightly.
"Hey man."
Sal nodded, stepping inside. As soon as he crossed through the doorframe, the temperature rose about 10 degrees. Sal was grateful, and kicked off his shoes by the coffee table. Larry watched patiently, nodding toward his bedroom. The two of them went inside and the shorter of the two immediately flopped face down onto the mattress. Larry, on the other hand, stepped over to his radio, which was playing one of his tapes quietly. He turned the volume up one or two notches, in case Sal wanted to talk over his dream. But Sal didn't move, so Larry just laid down next to him, facing toward him.
Despite the music, the room felt silent.
"....Do you wanna..."
Sal shook his head. "It's the same every time. I mean, not the content, but. I'm sick of having nightmares, I feel like that's all I ever talk about anymore."
"No, yeah, dude, that's... That's fine. I'm just worried, is all. You know that." Larry sighed out as he fidgeted with a stray strand of blue hair from Sal's tired and uneven pigtails.
"I know." He paused, and then fell quiet again. Larry watched him. "....Larry?'
"Yeah, Sal?"
"Will you...?" He motioned toward his back without lifting his face from the mattress. "Please...?"
"Heck, yeah. No problem." Larry smiled to himself as he began running his hand up and down over Sal's wrinkled sweater. He picked a Gizmo hair off here and there. It wasn't a weird thing. It had happened once, while they were hugging. Just, sharing a friendly hug after a rough day. Larry had absently run his hand down Sal's back and back up again a few times, but Sal had enjoyed it a lot. He never really realized how touch-starved he was before getting closer to Larry. So, once in a while, after a bad nightmare or a tiring bout with ghosts, Sal would sheepishly ask Larry to rub his back. Larry was more than happy to oblige, because honestly, Larry was kinda touch-starved, too. Sure, Lisa hugged him pretty often, as did Sal. But sometimes Larry was just (as he'd put it) 'a needy bitch'.
Although the metalhead tended to stay up near the waist and shoulder blades, he looked down at the fact that Sal's shirt had ridden up when he belly-flopped earlier, and there was just a bit of pale skin peeking out above the waist of his pants. He glanced at Sal's hidden face, which was letting out a quiet, pleased hum every few seconds or so at the sensation, before tentatively letting his hand down a bit further, toward the small of Sal's back. He was worried that Sal would recoil and ask him to stop, but instead one of the smaller guy's knees bent, swinging his foot up with a chuckle and a pleased hum.
"That felt nice. Can you put a little pressure there?" Sal finally turned his head to glance at Larry, who had a surprised but satisfied grin.
"Sure." He sat up a bit and put both of his hands on Sal's lower back, noting the nice curve that led up his spine. He pressed the heels of his palms into the clothed body beneath him and went about working out any pleasant sighs from Sal's mouth that he could find. Larry couldn't help himself. Not only was Sal obviously feeling better, but he got to have a few glances at the cute ass underneath him. Oh god, he hated himself for thinking that. But Larry wouldn't lie. He'd taken peeks before. For a good while, he figured it was just Sal's more feminine features he'd found attractive. He'd had crushes on short girls a lot before so, he figured that Sal's diminutive stature helped. After a couple months of that idea, he had had to come to terms with the fact that, no, it wasn't 'Sally' that he'd come to admire. It was just Sal. Not that Larry was gay or anything. He still very much liked looking at the ONE Hustler magazine he'd found in his Dad's old stuff. It's just that, something about Sal was different. Something about... Just Sal.
Larry was lost in thought, and caught the hem of the shirt in between his fingers, pushing it up Sal's back about halfway. Sal jumped and reached back to push it back down, and Larry pulled his hands back as fast as he could.
"Ah, shit, no dude, it was an accident, I was distracte-... Sal..?"
'Why are his hands so warm. Geez. And they were soft. Why did that have to happen.' Sal only heard Larry like an echo, but he tried to focus on what was being said to him.
"..It... Uh. It's fine. I'm fine. If you wanna stop, you can."
"...Do you want me to stop?"
"Do you want to stop?"
"No, not really. But if I'm crossing a line or something-"
"It's fine, Larry Face. I, uh... I don't mind."
"You don't mind... what? If I keep going or if... I'm under your shirt?" Larry looked down at the sweater that was between him and that pale, tiny waist. 'Not now, Larry. Don't be gross. Best friend, here.'
"I guess..." Sal shifted a bit so that his hands were back up by his face. "I guess, if you're under my shirt. But only if you want to."
Larry nodded, his fingers hesitating over the hem. 'Just friends, just friends. Don't get any ideas, Larry. Not like that.'
It's not even that Larry WANTED things to be like that. He just... got these urges sometimes. Who could blame him, he's eighteen. He lifted the soft but worn sweater's hem and laid his hands on Sal's lower back, skin to skin. It was cool, not cold. It was soft, but tight over what muscles he had. It was... nice. Larry let his hands travel their way over Sal's sides, finding his hipbones for just a second, before darting back up to safer territory. They wandered over Sal's gently protruding ribs, noting the subtle hills and valleys in his skin. They found their way up over his shoulder blades, Larry kneeling on the bed over the smaller teen and pushing the sweater as far up as he could without it pulling too hard on the fabric Sal was laying on. Sal's skin was so smooth and flawless. He wasn't sure what he expected, but part of Larry always thought that if what was under Sal's mask was so messed up, whatever was under his clothes must have been, too... But it absolutely wasn't. Larry wanted to lean down and kiss the soft line up the middle of his friend's back, let his long hair tickle him-
No. No. That, right there. That was wayyyyy too gay. Even for Larry. 'Not that I'm gay. Really. I'm not-'
"Larry?"
The brunette snapped his eyes down, meeting Sal's confused gaze. "Ah?"
"You stopped. Something wrong?"
Larry glanced down and saw his hands, frozen in place, pressed into Sal's waist in a light grip.
"Ah...Ah- I- It... Uh..."
Sal's eyes narrowed slightly, like he was furrowing his brow beneath his bangs. It was incredible how emotive he could be with just his eyes.
"Geez, Sal, don'... look at me like that, it's just..."
"Your face is red."
"Well, i-"
"You have an erection."
"I was just- wHAT-" Larry's eyes shot down and noticed that, indeed, it was true. He could see the subtle outline of his familiar body part in the jeans he was wearing. He scrambled to grab a blanket and shoved it into his lap, wishing he had a third hand to stuff his own hair into his mouth and choke on it.
Sal looked at his face, the blanket, then the mattress, sitting up and crossing his legs. He fidgeted with his sleeve hems, pulling at a loose string.
Larry sputtered. "No, Sal, it's- It's not like that, I'm not gay, so-"
"Nah, it's my fault."
"It's what..? Why?" 'I mean, technically it is, since you're you, and I was thinking about-' "How is it your fault...?"
"I shouldn't have asked you to do that. Friends don't normally... Uh.."
"No, Sal. It's... That's not your fault. You didn't do anything wrong. Please don't feel bad. It's... It's no big deal, right? I don't even know why it happened!" Larry tried to play it off with a laugh, but Sal didn't seem very convinced.
"You suck at lying. Even I know why it happened."
Larry's shoulders dropped. He sighed and let his head fall a bit, looking down at the mattress as his hair fell into some kind of curtain as if to hide his shame. "Because I'm a bad friend? Because I shouldn't be thinking about that kind of thing, with you of all people? I know." He looked up again, but froze at the look in Sal's eyes. That determined look.
"I meant skin contact. I meant because you were touching someone's skin in your bed that's pretty intimate what shouldn't you be thinking about with me of all people Larry?" Sal's words blended together as he spoke, partly accusatory, partly curious, and partly embarrassed.
"...............Gotta go!" Larry said as he jumped out of his bed and hustled to the door, swinging it open and heading toward the bathroom. Sal cursed the clock that read 4 am, which meant he couldn't shout after him.
Larry shut the bathroom door as quietly as his shaking hands could manage, bracing himself on the sink. Terrible. Awful. If he'd ever planned to talk to his friend about these feelings, THIS was not how he wanted to go about doing it. He glanced down at his pants and grimaced. "Thanks for nothing." He whispered. Calming down. Calming down was important. Larry turned on the water in the sink and ran it over his hands. Sal had dealt with ghosts, murder, weird cult dungeons, creepy visions, nightmares, bullies... And still kept his cool. Surely, he could deal with someone having a sort of crush on him, even if that person was his best bro. And, everyone knew Todd was gay, Sal had zero problems with him. Even if Todd and what's-his-face... Nathan? Neil? were holding hands or hugging, Sal didn't bat an eyelash. CLEARLY, he was chill with guys digging other guys.
So all Larry needed to do was calm down. He ran his wet fingers through his hair, slicking it back to its normal position and tucking it behind his ears, before leaning down to splash his hot face, shuddering at how cold it was. A deep breath before glancing at the mirror, and he grabbed the doorknob. Turn it. Turn it and get back to Sal. He came down here for comfort. He came down for a reason. Even if I like him. I'm his friend first. Larry sighed and checked his mom's door, listening for the quiet snores, before peeking in his room where he'd left the door open. Sal was sitting there on his bed, knees to his chest, fingers tucked into his sleeves, illuminated by the light filtering in from the living room. "Uh. S-... Sal?"
Larry didn't see him move, but he was definitely awake. He wasn't ignoring him, right? If he wanted to, he could have just left while he was alone. Larry closed the door behind him. "Sally Face?"
"Larry Face."
Larry huffed in relief. He smiled slightly, moving closer to the bed. He opened his mouth to speak but Sal's head popped up and spoke first.
"Do you have a crush on me or something?"
Whatever words were going to leave Larry's mouth got stuck in his throat. He stood still, thinking carefully before sighing and moving to plop down on his bed with his legs over the side. A couple feet from Sally, just for good measure. The truth seemed the best option.
"Well, dude. I dunno. Maybe. It's hard to tell. You're my best friend, and I mean that. I wouldn't want that to go away for anything. You're like my favourite person. Er, well. Tied with my mom, but you get what I mean. You mean so much to me, Sal."
Sal picked at his sleeves still, pondering. He began glancing around the room, then turned to look at Larry's face. His dark brown hair cascading over his face, his nose poking out anyway. When he lifted his head, his mole just visible on his face, past the shadow his nose cast. He had some droplets of water near his hairline.
"You're a weenie."
"Excuse me? I'm trying to figure out my emotions here, Sally Face."
"Larry, I think-..." Larry blinked at him, leaning forward to lean his elbows on his knees. "I think I feel similarly about you. What I said before. I meant it." Sal hoped he didn't have to explain which time he meant, but the look of recognition on Larry's face probably meant he wouldn't have to. "Both... As a best friend. And just in general. As a person. If you weren't here, everything would seem so much lamer."
"Sal, you don't mind...?"
"If I'm saying I think I kinda like you too, maybe...? Do you think I mind? Dork."
"Ouch. These zingers you're tossing my way. They hurt. Call me a nerd next."
"Nerd."
"Yeowch."
"What I mean is... I dunno exactly how I feel. But one thing I feel for sure is that... I think I need you in my life, Lar."
"Gay- Pfth" Larry spat the pillow fuzz out of his mouth from where he'd been hit with one. "Sorry, sorry. I feel the same way, Sal. I don't just need you in my life. I want you there."
"Who's gay now."
"Not me."
"Clearly. 'Oh Sal, I love you and I get a boner just touching your skin. Please make out with me.'" Sal tugged on his pigtails to accentuate his mockery.
"Yep, that's what I sound like. All the time. Can't get you out of my head."
The two chuckled, lowering their faces as a somewhat awkward silence fell into the room. Both boys felt burdened by a question that neither was sure they wanted to ask. Sal looked over Larry, and sensing that the taller of the two of them probably wouldn't have the nerve, he opened his mouth. "Do you think about kissing me?" Larry felt his cheeks tingle a bit, biting his lip.
"Honestly, I have, but just a couple times. Just... sometimes, you know?"
"I know." Sal twirled the end of one of his pigtails, shifting around to lay down. He laid his head on the pillow, looking up through the eyeholes of his prosthetic at the ceiling. "Did... you want to? Right now?"
"Oh, uh, geez, dude. I dunno. Do you... Think now is a good time..?"
"You're right. Probably not."
Larry moved over to lay next to Sal, laying on his side once more to face him. He couldn't keep the tiny smile off his face. Just knowing that Sal would accept him was enough to satisfy him tonight. Though... "I mean... It wouldn't be... terrible. Right?"
"Hm. Probably not." Sal's voice didn't falter but god his heartbeat did. He'd never been kissed before, for obvious reasons. He watched as Larry smiled and propped himself up on his hands, one on either side of Sal's shoulders. He blinked down at him. "With your mask, how... uh."
"Close your eyes, Lar."
Larry nodded and tucked his hair behind his ear, closing his eyes gently. "I'm gonna cover your eyes, okay...? Please... Don't peek, I'm serious." Larry nodded as he heard the quiet clink of Sal's prosthetic straps unbuckling. Then, Sal's little hands were on his face, both at the same time. 'Cute', Larry thought to himself. "Are... You good?"
"Mm-hm."
Larry started to lower his head toward where he knew Sal was, making sure he didn't push against the small hands at all. If Sal wanted him to stop, he would. He paused when he realized he could feel Sal's nervous breath on his face, he smelled clean and minty. Then, he felt Sal's lips touch his for a brief moment. Too brief. Sal's head plopped back onto the pillow, but Larry moved his weight onto one of his hands and used the other to gently weave itself behind the other's head, bringing him up again to press against him. Sal hesitated, and Larry had to resist the urge to open his eyes at feeling how the other's lips didn't feel quite right. He could tell they were lips nonetheless and his face went hot, letting Sal pull away. He heard shuffling and buckling, and he obediently kept his eyes closed until Sal placed a hand on his arm. Larry looked down at Sal, pigtails splayed out on the pillow and bangs flopping every which way, the tips of his ears pink and eyes looking anywhere but Larry's face.
"...You alright?" Larry asked with a smile.
Sal nodded quickly, because, really, he was. Larry flopped down beside him and smiled to himself the most satisfied smile he'd had in a long, long time.
"A-Alright, cool."
"Mm-hm, cool..." Sal smiled under his mask, and Larry could see the smile in his eyes, too.