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The air was stale, his hearing was glitching out and yet the only thought he could muster up was that it was pure bliss. The sound of cars passing came from his left, the wet sound of splashes landing on concrete, a distinct rhythm to the relentless beat of his heart. This was the kind of life he thrived in. Every wrong footstep was practically a piano key being played, the art of being impure a certain kind of dream to him he’d only ever begun to think of.
The soft breathing of his elder friend became the only thing his heart could beat to and suddenly he was elsewhere; dancing in the forbidden moonlight, swaying to the tempo of a love he’d never once dared to name before now. It was such a delightful daydream, the thought of it exciting to dare visualizing. He’d be there, of course he would, and Itrapped would be swept away by his love, overwhelming and dangerous and exactly what his heart yearned for.
“Stay with me,” Ellernate would say, and he’d shamelessly oblige, whispering sweet nothings into his ear as his life depended on it. Perhaps it did. Perhaps his lungs required this love of his to be expressed, begging for the words to leave those cherry lips. Maybe in that distant dream, Ellernate would need him too. That his rough fingers needed to slip the gloves off of him and reveal the rosy sin underneath; so disgusting that Ellernate could look at him with nothing but awe. Like sin was something he specialized in, enjoyed the race of dirtying him beyond recognition, making his mother repulsed and furthering his drive to murder the angel he once was.
“Issac, You don’t happen to have a lighter on you, no?”
That rough voice brought him back to the present. The contrast was stark and almost infuriating compared to the illusion he’d allowed himself to get lost in. In this reality, Ellernate didn’t love him, and his voice was less soft, hardened from the tiring day.
“I’ll check.” He managed to get out, going to dig in his pockets, cursing under his breath until those pale fingers wrapped around a familiar rectangular shape. He’d never been happier to have a lighter, strangely enough. To be of use to Ellernate, to have a reason for him to keep Issac around was a joy he hadn’t expected to know.
Just as his fingers curled around it, he felt the cold tobacco press against his lips, rendering him silent. He carefully looked through his white eyelashes to meet Ellernate’s dark inviting eyes. “Go on, make a wish.” The words were such an invitation, that he almost feared if he refused Ellernate would leave and curse him for a simple rejection.
Instead of entertaining that, however, he fluttered his eyes closed, trying to think of a wish. What did he hope for more than anything in the world?
.
.
.
The answer came quickly. Just the thought of him kissing Itrapped was enough to make him blush. Ellernate would hate to know he was wishing on this, the logical part of him reminded, and yet he pressed a small kiss to the tip of the cigarette, sealing the wish before he could give another rebuttal.
It tasted sinful. Like something you shouldn’t be doing, and you know, yet you continue on anyway because stopping is harder to do than to feel. Issac cherished the taste, because he knew it would be the taste of Ellernate’s lips. The cigarette left his mouth and yet the taste of it remained, as if it knew this would be the very thing he would be thinking about when he slept.
As it pulled away, swift and so easily done by those tanned hands, he opened his eyes again, letting his fingers pull out the lighter. It was natural to him at this point, a ritual they had repeated several times before. Itrapped carried the lighter, and Ellernate carried the cigarettes. It was how they’d functioned for their time as friends, a reason for Nate to drag him along. Despite the easiness of the task, his hands still fumbled, barely grazing the flint wheel, having to flick it twice to start the flame. He lit the cigarette, blue eyes watching it start to burn, and he couldn’t help but compare it to Ellernate. Perhaps it was the slow burn of it all, the way Nate never rushed when doing something worth his time. Itrapped wondered if he was worth Ellernate’s time, something worth taking his time, requiring patience to love the way he thought fit.
It was now that Issac realized he was standing barely inches away from Nate, close enough to feel every breath he took, close enough to see how the wind ruffled that dark hair of his, so small of a detail and yet impossible to ignore. He questioned then if Itrapped kissed him right now, whether he’d lean into it.
It was pathetic, and yet, he couldn’t help but dream it.
He opened his mouth to speak, then paused. What was he meaning to say? “I love you”? “Please marry me”? “I think you’re the hottest person in Robloxia”? No, he decided then. Ellernate would never be made aware of his feelings. He would never even be able to guess that Issac dreamt of him doing such silly things like kissing him, or returning his affections. Ellernate could never know. Until it passed, Itrapped would just suffer through it.
His thoughts were interrupted by the smoke entering his, that he now realized was ajar, dry mouth. By God, was the feeling heavenly. To feel the smoke blown from Ellernate’s mouth into his, was akin to a kiss in Itrapped’s book. Breath shared between the two, even if indirect, made his breathing quicken and heart race. The worst part of it all was that Ellernate was far too casual about it. He likely hadn’t intended to make his heart soar like this. And yet, he hopelessly did regardless.
It was the hottest thing Itrapped had ever felt from another person in his whole life.
There was no word in any language to explain the feeling of it. How his brain scattered at simple smoke, something he’d seen thousands of times before, yet felt newer every time was indescribable. Or, perhaps, his brain scattered because it was Ellernate’s doing. Because, he’d come to accept, Itrapped was irrevocably in love with him.
He’d never wished for a kiss more in his life. That Ellernate would forget the cigarette and smoke him instead, warm, and human and with lips that would fit against his more perfectly than any mold ever could. Itrapped knew he tasted better. He prayed, to any deity out there under Telamon’s vast sky, that Ellernate knew that better than anyone, that Nate secretly wished for the press of Issac’s lips against his.
He was so caught up in the thought of him kissing him that Itrapped hadn’t even noticed the cigarette being put out until Nate’s lips met his own, chapped and not soft at all, and now the newest hottest thing in his book. The kiss was short, no longer than ten seconds and yet felt like eternity. It felt like his wish coming true, because it had. This was all he’d dreamt of, prayed for, wished on a cigarette for and it was his. Ellernate tasted like smoke and diet coke and Itrapped couldn’t get enough. His hand gripped the back of his neck, tangling in messy hair until they were impossibly close and too far gone to notice when their lips disconnected, leaving a string of saliva from the gap.
Ellernate’s eyes finally flickered open and for a silent moment they just stared at eachother, breathing the same hot air in that alleyway, so close and past a line they couldn’t uncross. Ellernate was the first to break the silence.
“You don’t have to tear my hair out, I’m yours, okay? Jesus.”
Issac’s cheeks flushed and he knew Nate could see it. He whispered a quick sorry, reluctantly pulling his hand from those messy curls and hesitantly resting it on the collar of his shirt.
Ellernate smiled, kissing the corner of his mouth, a chaste short kiss and pulling away fully, shrugging his jacket on, the red thing a perfect compliment that grin he was now sporting. “Think you can be focused now? We’ve got work to do.” Nate had already started walking, that lazy confidence a reminder that he knew Itrapped would follow him anywhere, no matter the price.
Itrapped only lagged behind a minute to fully stomp out the flame, before catching up, whispering a thanks to the Gods and matching Ellernate’s pace.
“Only because I love you.”