Suddenly Felix grinned a mad grin, got something out of the car which he rather dramatically produced from up his sleeve. "A little something I picked us up this afternoon. Always walk away with just a bit more than they intend to give." It was a rather impressive bottle of whiskey, almost half empty.
Ian was getting her blank look again. "There are lots of reasons to wear long sleeve shirts in the summer," he told her. "Although at that particular moment I probably could have carried it out without hiding it all."
She stood. "I'm going to bed." Walked to the car. I looked after her, wondering if I should follow, but I just did not feel up to it. I looked at Felix. "Am I drinking alone? Or will you join me?"
"I'm joining you."
"I'm honored." He held out the bottle. It was heavier than I expected. I hesitated, glanced at him again. He raised his eyebrows challengingly. I took a long swig, then coughed.
"Careful," he said, rescuing the bottle. I looked over to see if he was laughing at me, but his glance was affectionate. "It tastes shitty if you aren't used to it." He took a swallow and grimaced. "Actually, it takes shitty if you are used to it."
We settled back & got to work killing the bottle. Mostly he talked, telling me drinking stories, but after awhile I got a nice warm feeling, started relaxing & after awhile began to babble a little. "I like this park. It reminds me of when me & my best friend would sleep in our backyards, in sleeping bags. Talking. Tell ghost stories & look at the stars. We always wanted to stay up to see the sunrise, but we always missed it...."
I drifted off, remembering, was almost surprised when Felix started speaking again, though so quietly it was scarcely an interruption. "After my mother died, I would sneak out to this park sometimes. Look at the water. Had to be careful of the drug dealers, but they leave you alone if you leave them alone... men came there too, sometimes, to have sex. If it was real cold sometimes I'd go home with one. Sometimes I didn't even get caught." He looked over at me, where I was looking at him. "You know us fags." It sounded bitter. "That's what we do, right?"
The whiskey kept me from having to blush and look away, let me hear what he was saying. I hoped that wasn't all. "Ever had a boyfriend?"
He looked down. "No. I've known since I was 8. Had lots of sex. No boyfriend."
"I've never had sex at all," I said thoughtfully. The whiskey kept this from being a terrible thing to admit to. "Nobody ever asked."
"Do you like boys or girls?"
It seemed an important question, so I thought about it for a long time. "I don't know."
"Ian?"
Smile. "Of course. She's so--she's so smart and brave and beautiful." Sudden moment of paranoia, I struggled to sit up more, glanced at the car, then at him. "Don't tell okay?"
He was watching me with a wistful smile. "Okay. I won't." I settled back again, relieved. He absently rolled up his sleeves, smiling. "Sometimes even I get hot. Specially when I'm drinking." A reddish scar caught at my eye in the lamplight. Unthinking, I reached to touch it, ran my hand lightly, following the crooked line up to his elbow, where it vanished beneath the shirt. "This one from you or your dad?"
"Me. Yesterday."
I looked up, sideways at his mostly shadowed face where I was still leaning over his arm, looked up at him looking down. His face was absolutely open, we looked into each other and something clicked, there was this change. I wanted to crawl away, back off, vanish, but I stayed in that awkward position, still lightly touching the scar, his arm. "Oh... Don't do that. Don't hurt your body like that."
"Why?"
"Because I'm-- because I'm very fond of it."
He was smiling at me now, reached down very gently to trace the bruise on my arm where I had hit it getting into the car yesterday. "I'm very fond of yours."
I was still staring at him, mouth a little open, feeling warm and open and scared. He must have seen the fear. He touched my chin, lightly stroked the line of my jaw. "Hey. It's okay. I won't hurt you." I turned my head, embarassed. He dropped his hand. "Relax, I'm not a rapist. I'm not going to do anything." I shook my head. "What? What is it, Sameira?"
"I." Choked it out, looked at him. "Want you to. Do something."
He smiled, and I was afraid he was laughing at me. "I'm honored." He was laughing at me.
I slipped away, drew back and sat arms curled around my legs, waiting for him to go away. Of course he was laughing at me.
"Sameira?" His voice was gentle. "Sameira? What's wrong?"
"Don't make fun of me." Loud.
"I'm not." Quizzical. "Sameira. Look at me. I'm not."
I looked. His face was open, with that wistful look I had seen earlier. "I like you alot," he said. "You're my friend. And you're cute. What is it?"
I shook my head. "I don't know." He reached out, carefully, so as not to scare me, and took my hand, started tracing it lightly with his fingertips. Shivery. "I don't know why it's so hard," I said, my voice sounding high and strained in my own ears. He was kissing my hand now, lightly, I was getting that melty feeling, but it was impossible. Impossible. "Impossible."
He paused, holding my hand lightly, searching my face for a clue. I shook my head again. "Don't stop."
He started kissing me then, carefully, watching me closely for reactions, kissed the bruise on my arm, got under my chin to kiss the scars there, kissed my neck. I put my hands in his hair, carefully, started petting him, then more desperately, almost pulling his hair. "Mmm," he breathed into my ear. I shuddered.
When he kissed my mouth, a light, dry brush, I pulled him closer, desperately pressed my tongue against his lips, he parted willingly, let me in, his tongue moving against mine for a minute, then it was too much and I pulled away, turned my face away, still leaning into him. "I'm sorry I dont know why I mean whats wrong I can't"
"It's okay," he said, and his voice was loving and gentle and very puzzled. "Sameira, it's okay," He pulled my chin towards him, made me look at him. "Really." I glanced at him. "We're friends." He smiled sleepily. "I'm fond of you. Here, come lie down with me. Hug. Okay?" I felt like crying but I said okay, choky but I don't think he could tell. We lay on the grass, he absently played with my hair, after awhile he rolled over but pulled my hand with him. I pressed up against him, hesitantly then with all my body, feeling his heart where he had put my hand, the planes of his back, his body against my body. Feeling his breathing as he fell asleep, but I lay awake for a long time, heart racing, I lay awake.
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