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Ozo had spent the past few days tossing and turning in his bed. Brandon had come back after Sparten’s little stunt. Though, Brandon was different. He insisted on wearing black robes and having a shaven head. Ozo didn’t mind because he decided to join Brandon’s little church. Hell, the website was working on him. Brandon had sent him that link months ago, hoping that his dad didn’t hurt him anymore. Or maybe it was because Brandon was alone there. Whatever the reason, to Ozo, it genuinely looked good.
Fuck, he was falling for their lies.
But why did he care? It was Brandon. Brandon, for God’s sake, needed him. Needed him to be the strong one.
It was Sunday and he was wearing the itchy, scratchy robes that he had to get used to. He made sure to tie his overgrown hair back so that he didn’t fall out of place already. He pulled into the parking lot, or what could even be called one, and saw Brandon greeting people, people who wore veils on their faces. Maybe they were the adults, he read that the adults had to wear those. Whatever, Brandon was here, so why did it matter.
“Ozo, welcome!” Brandon greeted him, immediately bringing him towards the left side of the pews and to the front, where the younger generations sat. Ozo followed, mimicking Brandon’s posture. It felt weird having his back so straight.
“Of course.” Ozo replied in an equally monotone voice as Brandon’s.
Hell, this place was already changing him. Brandon didn’t even reach for his hands like he normally did. He didn’t mind. It was their church, he respected their rules.
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Jesus, how badly Ozo wanted to slouch, his back was killing him, how did Brandon sit like this for hours? Maybe conditioning, whatever. At least he had Brandon. That made everything better. Once everyone was dismissed to mingle, many came over to stare at him, questioning him.
“Is he truly one of us?
“How’d he get here?”
“He looks funny.”
Ozo was bothered by that last one, but didn’t say anything and instead remained polite.
“My good acquaintance, Brandon, had given me the pleasure of learning of this place,” is all he said before Brandon excused the two of them elsewhere. Brandon pulled Ozo to the garden, which was rather dull and oddly comforting.
“I didn’t think you’d actually show up.”
“I did. For you.”
Brandon paused and looked at Ozo, no longer holding that empty smile. Brandon didn’t know what to say and instead just sat down. Ozo sat beside him, close enough as friends, far enough to not raise suspicion. That sat in silence for what felt like an eternity. Brandon scooted closer. Ozo acted like he didn’t see. More silence.
God, how long would it take for them to make the first move?
Maybe they would’ve had more time if Brandon’s dad didn’t come looking for him. Brandon just nodded at his father’s words, getting up and following out the open doorway. Brandon’s dad looked at Ozo, or at least what he could tell. The veil covered the man’s face. Ozo nodded once, cueing the man to leave.
Fuck.
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Ozo spent the next day in class just zoning out, staring ahead, perfect posture. None of his friends spoke to him much anymore, called him a lost cause. He didn’t care anymore. He had Brandon. That was enough. He didn’t need anyone else. Nobody else.
His teachers, his parents, hell, even his own counselor were worried. But that didn’t matter. All he needed was Brandon, the Sundowners, everything about them was all he needed.
One day, maybe, he and Brandon could be wed under the praise of the others. One day.
One. day.
One. Sunny. Day.
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Ozo lied in the grass with Brandon. Brandon’s dad had decided to let them be close ever since Brandon explained Ozo was one of them now. The robes didn’t itch anymore, how long had he been wearing it? It didn’t matter, he was with Brandon. Between them sat a green brick.
₲ⱤɆɆ₦ ł₴ ₵ⱠɆ₳₦.
Ozo couldn’t explain it, he felt so happy and warm. Is this how Sony felt around Sparten-
- NEVER. NEVER THINKING OF HIM AGAIN.
Sorry.
Ozo turned to Brandon, who was peacefully watching the stars. Ozo had never seen Brandon so at peace. Maybe this whole cult thing really was for them. For him. Maybe he was just blinded by everyone else.
Yes.
Everyone else had wronged him.
Not anymore.
“Brandon.”
“Ozo.”
Brandon turned his head to face the other boy, both taking in the other’s beauty. Ozo shifted closer first, Brandon following the lead. Soon their hands were intertwined, locked together as if they might drift apart. Ozo just smiled at Brandon, the locked away boy, the isolated one, was here, outside, next to him. Ozo wouldn’t have it any other way.
Brandon and Ozo shifted until the former had his head on the latter’s chest. Both of them lying under the stars and moon. Brandon looked up at Ozo, Ozo looked down at Brandon. They both knew what the other wanted, they both understood each other’s body language now.
“Ready?”
“Ready.”
Ozo leaned down, bringing Brandon into a kiss. The feeling of the latter’s soft skin on his lips was heaven. He didn’t want to let go. He wouldn’t let go. Not ever.
Never.
Ever .
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