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“Jack,” Roger caught up to the boy. “I think we should go hunting sometime. Just the two of us.”
The chief looked at his follower. “Just us? How would we even catch those pigs?”
“I think it’d be easier without certain people getting in our way.”
“They might join either way.”
“Then we’ll go at night. Nobody is awake and we can sneak out.”
===
Jack shook Roger awake. He whispered. “You ready?”
Roger nodded in response, slowly (to not make a sound) moving to where the spears were kept.
Jack was already ready. They hopped down the rocks and grinned to each other as they ran.
“You don’t think anyone will notice us, Rog?”
“No. We’ll be fine. Besides, what will they even do about it?”
They ran through the woods. Pigs were past their minds; they merely wanted their fun at night. They had even forgotten about the beast in their energy.
Jack raced Roger around the trees. They jumped large heights and laughed as they fell.
“I bet you can’t catch me!” Roger ran off, Jack in pursuit.
“Oh, yes I can!” They laughed. Roger jumped over logs and ditches. He looked back to see Jack gone from his sight. Was it a trick? he thought.
“Jack! Where are you?” He listened for a response through the crickets. He could hear… muffled noises. Coming closer, he saw that Jack had fallen a great height into a bush of thorns and vines. Roger hurried down, worried.
“What happened?”
“I– I fell and I think I cut my leg. Roger, help me!” Jack pleaded and looked down at the blood on his leg. He could barely move, caught in all those brambles.
“You’ll be alright..” Roger tried to calm him. The two sat in a long silence as Roger tried to see how Jack was tangled in so badly. His knees hurt from the sticks below him.
“It’s– Not easy to move, Rog. Should we wake up Ralph and Maurice?”
“No!” Roger wanted Jack to himself. It was hard to breathe.
Jack looked up at Roger. He couldn’t help it, he reached forward and kissed him. Jack jolted then froze. He didn’t pull away. Roger slowly brought out a hand and tried to move fingers through Jack’s knotted hair. Movies always had that.
His other hand grabbed onto Jack’s body, wrapping around him in an embrace.
Small, thick tears fell down Jack’s face. His paint ran.
Roger wanted Jack to do something. Anything. Push him away and call him a freak. Kiss him back. Pull away. Anything. The silence (and lack of response) killed Roger. He broke away.
“I’m..” Roger trailed off. He couldn’t say it. He let go of Jack’s orange hair to hold tightly onto his torso, digging his head into Jack’s shoulder. “I’m sorry for ruining you.”
For once, Roger cried too. Jack didn’t hold him back.
“You’re a faggot.”
“Please don’t tell them.”
“You– Made me sin!”
“I know. I know.”
“You’re– I’m–” Jack took a shaky breath in. “God can’t love us anymore.”
“Please just don’t let anyone know. I’ll never do it again.”
“We’re both going to hell, Roger.” Jack’s tears came again. Roger’s face paint mixed with Jack’s body paint, smearing.
“I’m sorry.”
“How could you do that to us!” Jack’s voice cracked.
“Because I love you. Is that what you want to hear?” Roger sat up and looked Jack in the eyes. “I don’t know why God would forsake us. I don’t know why I feel this way.”
“At least I’ve never acted on such urges! Now I’m– Oh God, I’m a sinner and a homosexual.”
“We’ve been sinners long before this.”
“God… What’s worse is that a part of me enjoyed it, Roger.” Jack sobbed. “I don’t want to be a faggot.”
Roger grabbed his face and kissed him again.