ABANDONED
Skin and Six stumbled through the alley looking for a place to sit and drink.
"What about here?" Six asked, hoisting a brown bag to his mouth. The cheap beer tasted good.
"Too noisy. Besides, the cars on the road can see," Skin pointed to the street and turned away.
They walked further down the alley, in between houses and behind small factories. Passing dumpster after dumpster, they turned left and headed parallel to the main road behind a series of abandoned homes. One house, almost invisible because of the ratted lawn that grew around it, was perfect.
"Here," Skin said, "Let's go in here."
Six looked up and down the alley. It was deserted. The hum of traffic buzzed in the distance. He looked around suspiciously.
"Come on!" Skin demanded as he tromped through the backyard, "What are you waiting for?" Six followed tracks in the grass left by Skin.
The backdoor of the house was open and the dark abandonment of decay oozed out from inside. Skin let it swallow him as he pounded into the building. He hesitated. He took a swig of beer and heard Skin call his name. Six stood at the doorway of the house, not moving. He wasn't convinced it was safe.
"Is it safe?" Six asked.
"Yeah," Skin replied. "It's safe. Now come on!" Skin walked back to the doorway from inside the gloom and grabbed Six by the arm. He yanked him into the house and planted a drunk kiss on him. Six took Skin's tongue easily.
"Let's look around," Skin said, as he pushed Six away. Six hit his beer and followed Skin into the black, abandoned structure.
"Check this shit out," hissed Skin. He was standing in the middle of what used to be a living room. It was covered with graffiti and the floor was littered. "It's perfect," he smiled as he hit his beer. Six looked around tentatively. There were pentagrams and the number 666 graffitied everywhere. A few gang tags were sprayed onto the floor and the fireplace was filled with garbage.
"Let's go downstairs," Skin said. He walked back into the kitchen, the first room they entered, and found the stairs down. It was even darker than living room. Six hesitated again. He drank from his beer and peered around him. He wanted to be outside. "Let's go outside," he protested.
"In a minute," Skin coaxed, "Come on!" Skin walked down the stairs carefully, making sure each step was sturdy enough. Six followed, taking his lighter out and flicking it a couple of times for a flame.
"Don't!" Skin whipped, "Let our eyes adjust." Six put the lighter back in his jacket and felt for his switchblade.
The basement was almost black. There were a couple cracks of light that came through some boarded up windows. It smelled, too. The rot of abandonment had left the dampness of nothing to fester, and it reeked. Six covered his nose. "It smells," he said through his t-shirt.
"Cover your nose, then," Skin replied as he peered around the basement.
"I am," Six said.
"Then shut up," Skin retorted. He was looking through some old boxes stacked in a corner. There wasn't much there, just some molding papers. Skin kicked the stack. The boxes tumbled down and papers spilled everywhere. Skin smiled.
Six stood by the stairway and waited, nose covered. "Come on," he whined, "I want to go outside."
"No," Skin said, as he walked to his friend. "We're going upstairs first and then we're going to hang out here and drink. It's safe." Skin pushed past Six and walked up the stairs as he spoke. Outside, through the back door, the night fell deeper.
Upstairs were two bedrooms and an old bathroom, nothing much to be seen, really. Skin pounced around and kicked this and that. Six watched and drank his beer. He felt better now that they'd been through the whole house.
"Come on," Skin said, and walked downstairs to the living room. Skin pushed some broken glass aside and sat down. Six followed. They drank together in silence.
"Not much here," Six said.
"Nope," Skin replied. He lit a cigarette and passed it to Six. He lit one for himself. Through the living room and into the kitchen, Six could see the open backdoor and the tumble of grass that followed. The alley wasn't far from them. Skin smoked quietly. "When did you know?" he asked.
"Know what?" Six asked.
"Know that you wanted cock in your ass?"
"I dunno," Six said. "I guess it was just the way it all started, really."
"What do you mean?" Skin asked.
"Well, I mean, aside from Peggy and trying not to be queer," Six replied. He took a swig of booze.
"Yeah. Why all that?" Skin asked.
"I told you why," Six said, "I dunno."
"Faggot," Skin taunted. Six ignored him.
"I remember when I was in junior high. I wanted to suck my gym teacher's cock."
"That's gross," Skin mocked.
"He always stood in the locker room at the front, by the doors, blocking them. We couldn't leave until the bell rang. It was as if we were trapped."
"What do you mean?" Skin asked.
"At night, I would jerk my cock for hours thinking about him standing there, watching all the boys. One night, I couldn't sleep because I was so horny. I kept waking up with this huge hard on. I kept rubbing and rubbing myself and thinking of my gym teacher. Then, when I couldn't take it anymore and was exhausted enough, I would fall asleep for a little bit with a pillow between my legs. Then I would wake up again because I was so horny. It was almost painful."
"That's gross," Skin said.
"It went on all night. And that morning, while my dad got up and got ready for work, I could hear him in the bathroom showering and then in the kitchen making coffee. I listened with this huge hard on, and I kept rubbing myself. My bedroom door was open, and it was right off the kitchen, so I had to be really careful he didn't catch me. I think I wanted him to, but I didn't let myself. I just kept moving the pillow between my legs up and down and thrusting my dick into it. I could hear my dad putting his keys into his pocket and buckling his belt as he got dressed in the dining room."
"Your dad got dressed in the dining room?" Skin asked.
"I listened to him and then it happened—I came all over the pillow I'd been fucking. I didn't know what was happening and I thought I was peeing the bed. I couldn't control myself and I started to panic. My first orgasm was an orgasm of pee, and I couldn't stop."
Skin laughed and hit his beer. He lit another cigarette. Six flicked the last of his into the rubbish before them.
"My dad was right outside my bedroom and I couldn't make a sound. I had to be totally quiet as I peed into my pillow. I didn't know what to do. I fell into a kind of silent, confused terror, and it was heaven."
"You're fucking weird, man," Skin laughed.
"Finally, it stopped. When I knew it was finished and I was still okay, I lifted the pillow to see what had happened. There was no pee, the smell wasn't urine, and I wasn't horny anymore. I looked at the cum on me and the pillow, and I touched it. It was mine all right. I tasted it, and it was salty. I loved it, and I was proud."
"And you dad?" Skin asked.
"Sometimes I think he knew and sometimes I think he didn't and sometimes I think he watched or listened or something and sometimes I wish he did. Mostly, I just don't know. But he was there. He was there for my first orgasm, whether he knew it or not."
"And what did you do?" Skin asked.
"I got up. My dad wasn't in the kitchen and I snuck into the bathroom and cleaned up and flushed the toilet, to pretend I went to the bathroom, and snuck back to my bedroom, naked, and went to sleep. I don't know if he saw me, but I was okay either way."
Skin smiled. "Come here, boy," he said gently. Six looked at him.
"Come here," Skin coaxed, as if calling a small animal to his side. He was pointing in front of him. Six stood up and went to where Skin was pointing.
"I want you to undress for me," Skin said sweetly, "Undress for daddy." Six looked down. He felt a small tinge of shame from somewhere. He looked at Skin who smiled back compassionately. Six took his clothes off and waded them in a ball next to him on the floor. Skin watched and smoked. His beer was empty.
"I want you to jack off for me, like you did for your dad," Skin said, "Jack off for daddy." Six looked at his friend. He didn't move. His cock jutted up and out from his sinewy frame.
"Go on," Skin coaxed as if he were talking to a child. "Show daddy what you can do."
Six took hold of his cock and stroked it a couple of times. He sat down in front of Skin and spread his legs wide. Skin smiled. Six's nuts hung low and the fell onto the floor when he sat. Six grabbed the wadded ball of denim next to him and pushed it between his legs. He started rubbing the cloth up and down on his cock and pushing back. Skin crooned to him sweetly, "That's a good boy. Stroke your cock for daddy. That's a good boy."
Six put the wadded jeans on the floor and straddled himself over them. He moved up and down on them, gliding his cock into the fabric. It was rough. Skin looked intently at Six, whose gaze never left Skin's. "Good boy," Skin whispered, his throat hoarse with excitement.
Skin stood up. He watched Six fuck his jeans rhythmically. It was beautiful. "Fuck yourself for daddy," Skin said, as he undid his pants. Skin positioned himself over his friend and let his cock touch the back of Six's ass. Skin spit on himself and stroked a couple of times.
"Daddy sees you," Skin said, "Daddy sees his boy." Skin reached around his friend and rubbed his stomach affectionately. Six whimpered with a kind of pleasure that resisted itself.
"Good boy," Skin said," Make yourself feel good for daddy. Daddy wants you to feel good. Daddy's watching you," Skin crooned, "Daddy's watching his boy fuck himself with his pillow. Good boy," Skin said as he slid his cock into his friend's ass. Six whimpered. He was crying.
"Good boy," Skin encouraged, "Daddy's right here. He's not going to hurt you. He's not going to hurt his precious boy," Skin loved.
Six moved himself up and down on his jeans as Skin's cock moved into his ass and back out again, and here, in the strange dark of this house, they fucked.
"It's okay," Skin whispered in Six's ear, biting on it from behind, "Daddy loves his boy. Daddy loves his little boy." Six groaned out, catching the sound in his voice to stop it. Skin didn't move, but let Six fuck himself with his jeans. Skin's cock moved in and out of Six while Six pushed himself into the wadded fabric beneath him. It wasn't long before Skin erupted into his friend's ass.
"Good boy," Skin said, "That's a good boy. Daddy loves his good little boy," Skin managed as he pulsed into Six's hole. He pulled Six's head up and turned it to the side where he could see the tear streamed face. Skin grunted with pleasure as he let his tongue lick at his friend's cheeks. Six was trembling with grief. His cock was stiff with it.
"Fuck yourself for daddy," Skin huffed out hoarsely into Six's ear. Six reached behind him and pushed Skin into him as deep as he could. Six wanted his father and never wanted his father's cock inside him all at once. This was the gift that Skin gave him now in his release; it was the deep, locked pleasure of shame tumbling up and pushing its way out of his flesh and into his jeans all at once that caused Six to fall forward. Skin followed.
"Cum for daddy," Skin whispered into his ear, "Show daddy how you can cum." Six shot another wad of jizz. He howled deeply as the tremor of grief welled up inside him and burned through him in a gush. "Cum for daddy," Skin whispered, "Cum for daddy." Six sobbed as the last load of jizz released itself from his body.
"Good boy," Skin crooned, "Good boy." Skin rubbed the back of his friend's head with his hand. He lay on top of Six with his cock still inside Six's ass. He held Six while Six continued to grieve. "Good boy," Skin crooned, "That's my boy. That's my baby boy."
Six sobbed harder. He started to try to say something, but Skin calmed him. "Shhhh…" Skin whispered as he pulled his cock out of Six. Skin turned his friend around. He looked deeply at Six beneath him. Six poked at his eyes, trying to move the tears away from them. He could see Skin above him looking into him. "Shhhh…" Six heard Skin repeat.
It must have been at that moment or the moment before or the moment before that one when they entered the house. The only thing Six felt was the warm gush of his friend spurting onto his face. There was a noise, a thunderous boom, and then a word, "Faggots!" But that was all before this. What was left of Skin's head fell onto Six. He could taste the metallic cringe of Skin's blood in his mouth and feel the pieces of his friend's face on his own. After that, there was nothing.
Bill Berry says, "I was born in Detroit, Michigan and live on Cape Cod. I am a college professor who teaches writing and language. Presently, I am busy with my dissertation on identity and writing. My creative work is inherently transgressive. I want people to feel challenged; my fiction reflects this."