Incisors for Hands
“Hold my drink, hold my drink…Yo Justin! Watch this, he’ll suck it.”
Cal pulled down his pants like one would tear out stitches and clawed at the other boy’s hair, driving his head downward like a drill towards his naked sex.
“What the FUCK, CAL?!” Soggy glares flashed before his eyes and he slapped Cal’s smug features in time with the boom of the devastating bass beat. Justin stagger-leapt for the door, a wounded gazelle, distance his exigent savior.
Like a hyena, Cal bounded and grabbed Justin’s shoulders and spun him around, rooting him in Cal’s voracious grip.
“I love you. Justin. You know that, right?”
Cal pressed his lips to Justin’s, kissed him and nibbled a little.
Justin softly gathered Cal’s head and moved it away from his.
“Some stars fell from your eyes, Justin.”
“You don’t love me, Cal. You like girls. You’re drunk. Fuck off.”
Harvesting light from the sky, Justin reformed himself to dignity and left. Cal watched him.