Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 116220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 581(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 581(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
“Could we be the only ones left?”
Tristan’s fingers glide up Kyle’s arm, take hold of the side of his face. You’re so pretty in the moonlight.
“What a scary feeling. To be alone in the world. Only us.” Kyle stands there as Tristan kisses his neck, his cheek, then his lips. Kyle’s heavy eyes remain on the pale moon as he is kissed. Tristan’s lips lower to Kyle’s chest, each of his kisses full and intentional, savoring every inch of skin. “I wonder if that’s what they felt, your abductors … why they wanted another, a child, why they wanted you.”
Perhaps, says Tristan between kisses, his head going lower.
“Maybe I shouldn’t be so sad about giving up the sun,” says Kyle as Tristan unbuttons his pants. “What did it ever give me but sunburns in the summer and torture during practice?”
His pants drop to the grass.
You will always have the sun, says Tristan as he gently works Kyle’s underwear down his thighs. Where do you think moonlight comes from? It’s merely secondhand sunlight.
“We can do whatever we want, from now on.”
Tristan’s lips return to Kyle’s neck as he grips him below.
“Do you think we can be happy forever? I want to be. I’d like to be. But I want my life to mean something, too.”
We can have it all, says Tristan.
Then he bites.
Kyle clings to Tristan, fingers digging into him. The bite is the most potent yet, bordering right on the razor sharp edge of pleasure and pain. Kyle grimaces, then groans deeply. Was it his neck this time? Was it even more pleasurable than the ear?
Here’s to the rest of our lives, says Tristan. To saying goodbye to all our past sufferings. To making a world all for us, without rules, without denial, without sorrows …
“To finding home,” says Kyle, out of breath.
To the end of things, says Tristan.
The boys tumble to the forest floor, their passions taking control. Tristan’s mouth drags down Kyle’s exposed chest, with one kiss here, one kiss there, until his soft face grazed over Kyle below, hovering, only cool breath touching his swollen length. When Tristan’s mouth takes it in, Kyle’s eyes drink in the light of the moon, eclipsed by branches and their swaying leaves.
Upon one of them, a single leaf, even in the darkness, Kyle spots a bug grooming itself in the moonlight. Some kind of ant.
You asked earlier if you can still come, if you’re still you.
Kyle stares at that tiny ant, in awe that he can see it at all, as Tristan’s mouth slides up and down his length, up and down with no interruption, even when he speaks. His words must be coming from some other place, invading Kyle’s mind. Has he always been capable of that? Has Kyle just not noticed?
I want to prove you can. I want to show you just how human you still are, Kyle, now and always.
The ant keeps grooming itself meticulously. Kyle swears he can even hear the tiny appendages as they slide against one another, little ticking and tapping noises.
Every sound, a hundred times more.
Tristan suddenly picks up speed and intensity. Kyle takes hold of Tristan’s hair, caught off-guard, clinging. His lips part and his eyes dance upward to the sky, overwhelmed.
Every sensation, Tristan’s tongue, a hundred times more.
You’re not only abandoning your life … You’re abandoning the very notion of suffering. You will never suffer another second, Kyle.
Kyle feels his eyes turning wet.
Brock and the team, tied up, a jock menagerie in the locker room. What became of them? How’d the game go? Did they win? Why is Kyle wondering? Is he trying to cling to his old life, even still, like he has even the tiniest chance to return to it?
All the best parts of being human, forever.
Tears fall down Kyle’s cheeks as he smiles up at the stars. Kyle’s fingers curl in Tristan’s hair, squeezing even tighter, his breaths shattering in the night air.
Kyle feels a hint of teeth.
Instead of discomfort, a rush of yearning overtakes Kyle, a deep, irrevocable desire for more of whatever he just felt, even the pain. He wants it. He wants it immediately.
“C-Can you bite me? Down there?”
Tristan’s misty blue eyes peer up at him from below.
“Please?” Every inch of Kyle’s skin is alive. Every hair on his body, prickling with sensation. His soul, were it something a person could see as plainly as the trees around them, is vividly aflame, like a mighty beacon. “I want to feel it. To feel you.”
Tristan’s eyes nearly glow in the night. Oh, Kyle, you look so alive right now. I wish you could see you.
Kyle feels teeth again.
Tristan turns his eyes back to his task, teeth bared, as he gently surveys, as if calculating, finding the perfect spot. Kyle is merely an eager spectator of his own body and what Tristan is about to do to it, throbbing with anticipation, yearning.