#yes its very Choppy and very ROUGH but the idea is down. im gonna try and work on this over the next few months

[oh-gh0st]

isolation (WIP)

[saintbandaid]

Promise - Sally Face/Larry

Just boys being bros

Larry was lazily strumming his guitar, strewn across Sal’s floor waiting for him to return from the kitchen with lukewarm beers and a package of chips. Larry couldn’t help but stare out the window at the way the trees shook with the windy rain that was pouring out over the apartments. The tree house was visible, almost, through the downpour. The soft thudding of feet came rumbling from down the hall. Larry’s gut turned, he didn’t know if it was a trauma response or general excitement to see his friend again. 

Sal walked into the room, carefully shutting the door behind him as if there was anyone in the house to bother. 

“What.”

“Nothing, you just look cute.”

“Shut up. I’m wearing a mask.”

“Yeah but it’s cool,” Larry laughed.

“Then tell me I look cool.”

“Ice cold baby.”

“I’ll literally fucking kill you.” Sal sighed, behind his mask he felt his lip begin inching its way towards a smile.

“Only if you promise.”

Sal sat down beside Larry on the ground, picking up the guitar. He strummed softly, it sounded as if someone was brutally murdering a banjo, but it was soft in a way only Sal could do.

“Let me teach you to play.”

“No. I play fine.”

“Sal if you make me listen to your drunk chimpanzee attack on my guitar again I will literally shit on your floor.”

“Hot.”

Larry sat up from his lounging position, scooting over to sit closer to Sal. He reached down and repositioned the guitar in the other man's lap. “Now put your right hand at the top, left at the bottom.”

“Ok.”

“Now press down with your middle finger, and on this string with your other.”

Sal strummed the guitar after his fingers found their way to the right position, it sounded nice, Sal sighed a defeated sigh. “Fine, teach me.”

“I’m gonna gym teacher you.”

“Excuse me?”

“Sit in my lap.”

Sal stared at Larry for a moment, in total silence. The rain kept trickling down, licking the windows in long laps. Sal sighed again, he got up and scooted to a position with Larry’s legs around him. Sal has confined himself to this moment of defeat. Once he was sitting the room remained quiet, Larry’s chest was pressed against Sal’s back so close he could feel the deep indent in Larry’s chest. 

Larry rested his head on Sal’s shoulder so he could see the guitar strings. He took a moment to smell Sal’s hair, the aroma of sweat and strawberry shampoo. Larry picked up Sal’s hand and began pressing his fingers against different chords. This carried on for a second, or moments, for centuries or millennia. Long enough for Sal to shake away Larry’s hand and begin pressing the chords on his own. Listening to the choppy strumming Sal was producing, Larry reached over and opened one of the beers. He chugged it quick, escaping the idea that it was probably time to scoot away from Sal and let him explore the guitar. 

Larry sighed, beginning to push away from Sal. “Stop.”

Larry looked over Sal’s shoulder, trying to make eye contact. 

“Just,” Sal paused, “Keep showing me.”

Larry swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat, and suddenly the dreary rain filled apartment felt hot. “Ok.”

Sal reached over Larry’s thigh and grabbed one of the beers, popping it open and chugging it like his life depended on it. The two sat in awkward silence for a moment before returning to the guitar. 

Sal kept moving, shifting in his sitting position. 

“Are you okay?”

Sal turned his head to look at Larry, his eyes were piercing and serious. After a few moments he looked away, grabbed another beer, and treated it like a glass of apple juice. 

“Teach me on the bed.”

“What?”

“Teach. Me. On. The. Bed.”

“Hot.”

“If you talk again I will kill you.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Larry smiled and pushed himself off the floor, each of his joint cracking on the way up. Sal stayed sitting for a moment while Larry got comfortable on the bed. Larry wasn’t sure why, but he wanted to be drunker. “Can we drink something else?” Larry asked, rolling his head to look at Sal. 

Sal reached under his bed and revealed what appeared to be gasoline in a plastic water bottle. “It’s like six different alcohols… whiskey, rum, whatever I could find.”

Larry smiled, “Damn.”

Sal got on the bed and gave him the water bottle, “I have two, we can drink this one all if you want.” 

This caught Larry off guard, typically his blue haired counterpart was more certain. Offering an option was different than the typical conversation styles. The two drank, leaving the guitar on the floor. The boys laughed at the noises from different apartments and they way they echoed through the floors. They guessed who was talking, even guessing people that weren’t there anymore. 

Sal got quiet, his skin was prickled with goose bumps but he had never felt more warm. 

“You’ll catch a cold baby blue.”

“What did you just call me?”

“Baby blue.” Larry smiled and winked.

“Do it again.”

“Okay,” Larry suddently couldn’t make eye contact anymore, “Baby blue.”

“Look at me.”

Larry was getting frustrated and he wasn't sure why, as if he was caught in a lie.

“Baby blue.”

Sal sat there, he did nothing, just sat. Larry’s ears began to heat up, something was caught in his throat.

“Why do you want me to call you that.”

“No one calls me that.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No.”

Sal reached down and took another swig from the water bottle. He leaned over and got close to Larry’s face. 

“When do you call me that?”

“Just leave it alone Sal, I’m sorry if you're mad.”

“I’m not, I just know a secret.”

“Oh?” Larry’s voice cracked, there was no playing cool when Sal’s blue eyes pierced into his brown ones. Dirt and mud mixing but this was like a mudslide. 

“I’ve heard you.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’ve heard you, singing, you wrote a song and you say baby blue.”

“It’s a colour.”

“Yeah. It’s a colour. But you called me that.”

Larry reached over and grabbed the water bottle, taking a deep gulp. “And?”

Sal leaned over, pressing his forehead against Larrys. Larry could hear his breath, laboured but not the typical difficulty breathing that Larry knows. 

“Touch me.” Sal whispered. 

Larry couldn’t move, suddenly forgetting how his hands worked. Nothing made sense right now. Larry jerked away, “Woah.”

Sal sat back quickly. “Im drunk.”

The pit in Larry’s stomach felt deeper than the marianas trench. 

“No.”

Sal squinted his eyes, “What?”

“No.”

Larry leaned back over, his hands on either side of Sal’s thighs. He used one hand to yank on Sal’s piggy tail, “I can touch you.”

Larry has in fact, zero idea what he was doing, but he liked it whatever it was. Sal shook his head, moving Larry’s hand away. He didn’t let go, he grabbed tighter and pressed Larry’s palm against the straps on his mask.

Larry knew what was happening, and it was happening faster by the second. Warp speed ahead. He unclipped the mask, it fell onto Sal’s lap. Before Sal could say something bossy Larry had his lips on Sal’s. It was rough, tactless and very boosey. Larry smiled into the kiss, this is exactly what he wanted as his first kiss. 

Sal didn’t do much, as if by magic he no longer had instructions for Larry. This was uncharted territory and Sal was lost and going through the motions. 

Larry pulled away, “I’m so sorry.” Larry’s stomach felt like it was going to turn, worried that he had fallen for a joke and taken it too far. “I’m just drunk.”

Sal’s blue eye appeared to be watering, something Larry had never seen. 

“Sorry for what.”

“Kissing you, you were joking right? I went too far. I shouldn't have don-” Larry was cut off mid pitiful apology by Sal’s finger. 

“Don’t apologize.” Sal’s finger began to trail down Larry’s chin, brushing against the stubble developing. He carried down Larry’s neck and to his chest, drawing circles on his descent. The room was quiet, Larry was holding in his breath in anticipation on how far Sal was going to go. Sal paused above the belt, and Larry watched the way Sal’s breath was hitching too. 

“I thought I was supposed to touch you.” Larry laughed, grabbing Sal’s arm tightly. His courage was coming back, and he was ready to be a present player in this mixed up game of repression and graveyard alcohol. Larry grabbed Sal’s other arm too and pushed him against the bed. 

Sal’s brain was mush, “Hit me.”

“Excuse me?”

“Slap me or something.”

Larry began laughing, “Why?”

“Need to feel real.”

Larry leaned down, squeezing Sal’s arms tightly and pressed a kiss into his forehead. “Make me.”

Sal squinted, establishing control through eye contact. Sal began to squirm, his back arching to make contact with Larry. He began to moan, never stopping eye contact with Larry.

Larry couldn’t breathe, everything he had read in the porno rag he found in the woods did not compare to this moment. 

“Okay, Baby Blue, okay.”

Larry leaned back, still straddling Sal, and slapped him across the face. Sal moaned, arching further. “Okay?” Larry asked.

“Okay.” Sal whined. 

Larry leaned down and kissed Sal again, biting his lower lip to get inside. As their mouths moved together Larry began to get lost. Almost forgetting where he was, almost. 

“I want you to kill me.” Sal sighed.

“Excuse me?” Larry laughed.

“I want you to choke me to death, hide my body in the tree house, and fuck it until I rot.”

“Sal.” Larry paused, “You’re kind of fucked up.”

“Yes.”

“I promise, but not today.”

“Promise.”

Larry gave Sal a look, “Say not today.”

Sal stole a quick kiss, “Not today.”

“Good boy, you follow direction too.”

Larry rolled off of Sal, laying beside him. 

“Am I your boyfriend?” Larry asked nervously, his body still felt like fire. 

“Why?”

“Because we kissed, and I promised to hide and fuck your corpse.”

“Ok.”

“Okay? You’re my boyfriend?”

“Sure.”

“Will your corpse also be my boyfriend?”

“Shut up or I’ll kill you.”