unreal relationship #4
Bowers was found near the front door; he stood in the middle of the living room, to Stan's surprise, leaving his shoes on the rug. This is… Pretty sweet of him. The guy smiled at his own thoughts, awkwardly waving his hand at his guest to follow him. Henry looked awkward surrounded by expensive furniture and tried once again not to touch this or that thing. This made Stan fall in love with him even more. He is incredible.
— In general, Henry, — upon arrival in the room, the curly donkey sacked onto the bed, getting down to business. His companion looked around in surprise, expecting to see in the room of a pedantic Jew the same as in the whole house. White empty walls and fragile vases, for example, but not the room of the average teenager at the height of the transitional age. — My parents don't believe that I have a boyfriend…
Henry folded his arms over his chest, looking at him with disdain and skepticism.
— Because you don't have it, I think.
— Yes, but they don’t know about it, and we just need to make them believe it, you know? And when I say this, I mean… — Stan buried a trembling hand in his curly dark hair, afraid to utter the following words and see the reaction of Henry. — I mean everything that lovers usually do, you know. They have to see… — He faltered again, swallowing the sticky drool of anticipation. — Our love.
Bowers did not look surprised and did not show disgust. Surely, when making a decision, he thought about it more than once, about his forced actions concerning Uris and those words that he would have to say to him in adults. How will look at him. So he just nodded in response, awaiting further explanation. Stan had enough of that; the lightening sigh he himself broke from his weathered lips and he even smiled. Next to Henry, his body was always tense, because this man didn’t fit into his world at all, you could expect anything from him, and it aroused all of nature. Henry was a wild beast, and Stan was just a stupid man who cherished the hope that he could tame him.
— In-in general, in front of them, we will hold hands and kiss.
— As you say.
Stan was even more surprised when he looked at Henry with his eyes wide open.
— But if anyone ever finds out about this, — he looked back at him threateningly and the guy was relieved to understand that Henry was still the same, he just really wanted money. — To your end, loser, you know that I'm not joking.
He came up to Uris inadmissibly close, so much so that he could even feel warm, heavy breathing on his cheek with the smell of cigarettes and Juicy Fruit. His strong hands forced the mattress to bend with a creak, he did not take a warning look from Stan, who had become frozen by such unexpected contact, and then he grinned altogether, recoiling.
— If you are going to play a couple that have been together for quite a long time, shouldn't you be more cold? Or do you just like me?
— Not at all, — Stan immediately waved his hands often, feeling the blood inside boil with adrenaline and excitement. — It's even better, right? Parents should see my sincere feelings… And yours too.
— Yes, yes, I will work on my loving look at the mirror, of course, all for the sake of money.
— How much did Richie promise you? — Stan asked suddenly. His family was quite rich and he could pay any price, however, Bowers answer did not explain this to him.
— Not so much. Consider that I do it for free, it will cost you nothing.
For some reason, the brown-haired looked at the same time a little sad. However, not only Stan had the ability to change masks like gloves, and Henry immediately pretended that everything was in order. Stan was not sure that he could ask him about his state of health, because they are not friends, but rather former school enemies, but this still has weight. A heavy, even weary sigh itself escaped from the lips. They still had a lot of work and he was not sure that three days would be enough, because to communicate with Henry, even despite his agreement and willingness to cooperate, it was still difficult. His heart… «Created all sorts of garbage and threatened to arrange for him to meet with death ahead of time», strictly speaking.
— In this case! — he got up from a soft bed, embarking on confused looking around the room in search of the right. A drawing album, old and with several yellowed pages, has served him for many years. There were many drawings of birds, and just nature in general. Henry himself, without noticing it, looked first at the graceful lines of drawings, although he had not been interested in art before, and then at Uris's beautiful hands. His long fingers took a pencil and began to draw a plan of action. — I’m sure my father heard about you. No offense, but we will have to try to be accepted… — Stan muttered something quietly under his breath, so the guy with the earring in his ear had to sit next to him and bend down to his face almost closely. — Are there any provocative questions? Let's invent a beautiful, but realistic love story. We find out each other's interests… — when Stan lifted his head slightly to ask Henry about something, he was frightened to see his face so close to his. Again. — Discuss the scope of what is permitted.
— The framework of what is permitted is good.
However, the bully was not in a hurry to move away. He liked to see the confusion on the face of the usually calm and unshakable Uris. A guy from a good Jewish family who, it turns out, has dirty thoughts about people of his own sex. Surprisingly, in the modest opinion of Bowers, but definitely nice. He had his reasons for thinking that. Stan was embarrassed and fell out of bed due to the awkward movement, although usually he was just an example of confidence. He, red and disheveled, got up from his seat and brushed off his pants, as if there could be rubbish at all. This is his room, after all.
Henry grinned at that, feeling the heat in his chest. Yes, such Stan is unusual, more homely and absolutely exactly cute, he liked. He immediately tried to stop thinking about it. His goal is to simply do what is required and get the money, it's not even a pleasant pastime. Totally.
— I think you should come to work with me tomorrow. There we will be able to discuss everything, it’s just that the time is already late and I’m tired — Stan, clinging awkwardly to the castle, was looking for reasons to stay alone and calm down, because Henry Bowers along with his strong hands and pleasant smell should not be, made him worry. — It would be better if my parents did not see you. Mom now cleans the pantry, and the father is in the office in the morning, so you need to be careful
Bowers got up after him, looking the guy from head to toe. Standing in the middle of his own room, he suddenly seemed small and frightened. Henry would feel like a real bastard, not noticing it and staying here. He nodded shortly, looking away to the side and noticing the window, which could not be seen from behind the curtains that matched the color of the wallpaper. It was not so high, and besides, a tall tree growing nearby gave him a strange, but interesting in its riskiness, idea. Without further ado, he began to open the window, followed by the panicked look of the room owner and his questions. The window sill met his hooligan ass with cold. Before barefoot touched the rough bark of the tree, Henry looked over Stan with a grin. Devils danced in his gaze.
— Go out the door and give me my shoes, be so kind, — with these words, without any grace, he tried as carefully as possible to jump from the branch to the next, and then to the soft, slightly damp grass. Stan was anxiously watching this action, and when gray eyes glared at him in response, he hurriedly retreated into the room. His heart was beating loudly in his chest and with each of his blow Stan's world was crumbling to pieces due to the awareness of his own feelings. He was a smart guy, but right now he was simply a standard of idiocy. As carefully as possible, he went downstairs, bypassing the living room and empty corridors. Thank God, no one ever found out about the arrival of Henry Bowers.
— Here, — Stan handed over his faded sneakers to the above, thinking that he would definitely buy him a new guy, albeit unreal. He can not let this handsome look in front of older Uris, as if a ragged from the street, but that is exactly what Henry was.
By the way, he looked like he didn’t want to leave at all — he looked at his former classmate with an unreadable look. On one side, Stan understood him because quite a lot of time had passed since Richie arrived; it was noticeably darker and cold in the street, but before he could say anything, Bowers fell from his stupor. He grunted something quietly, and then awkwardly pulled on his sneakers.
— I'll come closer to dinner when the break starts at work, — hearing this, Stan glanced at him blankly, with a little respect. — What? You didn’t think that one of them is so correct and you are running around looking for money, jewish ass?
Stan chose to leave the appeal to himself unnoticed, silently radiating waves of interest.
— I'm fixing the car. Well, you know, poking around in the engines and maraya hands in engine oil. It fits me.
Perhaps this is true. In any case, only with one view of sweaty, half-naked Henry, who strains his muscles in order to tighten some part, Stan’s whole body trembled. He blushed more and more, as his thoughts became more and more frank and cheeky, and when he came to himself, he realized that he was left standing on the street completely alone. The singing of crickets and the chattering of cicadas tore the silence of the night as he slowly realized one thing. Henry Bowers does not know the address of his work, and Uris himself forgot to tell him about it. Fuck.