There’s A Time For Beauty
Sal was pretty.
His prosthetic probably hid something he never wanted the world around him to see, but he kept his hair pulled back into pigtails and he was built thin. His hands were delicate and his eyes, from what Larry could see, were the most intense blue.
He had tried mixing paints to look like them a couple of times, to match the blue.
So far, it hadn’t worked, but he still kept trying.
Larry erased a line in his sketchbook, trying to get the shape of Sal’s prosthetic just right, nudging it into the right place. The other boy was sitting across the room from him, curled up on the mini-couch across the room. His fingers were wrapped around the toe of one of his shoes, picking at the edge absently. Sal looked deep in thought as only he could, his entire body strained against something that was probably eating him up inside.
It strangely took minimal prodding to get the other boy to speak and it was about kissing.
It was about kissing him.
Sal, pretty as he was, wanted to kiss Larry. Sal, with his sarcasm and a good sense of humor and everything about him that made Larry want to tell him every day how much he liked him, wanted to kiss him.
His heart was pounding in his chest as the smaller boy settled on the floor next to him, holding as still as he could.
One wrong move and Sal might run away, that was how scared he seemed to be.
Creating a friendship with him had required a new way of figuring out emotions. Sal’s face wasn’t on display for him to see. Larry couldn’t see the curl of a smile on his mouth, couldn’t watch his cheeks turn red when they embarrassed each other, wasn’t able to see what Sal’s face looked like when he was thinking. He’d learned to read the boy’s body instead, figuring out what each jerk of his head and movement of his shoulders meant.
If anyone asked, he’d say he’d become fluent in Sally Face.
Larry wanted to smile, pull Sal close and just focus on the moment with him. Sal was the only person he’d ever wanted to kiss since a crush he’d had in fourth grade. Instead, he held still until he figured out that Sal was trying not to freak him out. His hand was cold over Larry’s eyes and true to his word, Larry wasn’t peeking.
When he turned his head, it was like a single electric spark shot down his spine.
Sal pressed closer into him and the warmth between them grew, like sitting in front of a fire in the winter. Curled in blankets and with mugs of hot chocolate and saying nothing but feeling excited and happy, with snow outside. Kissing Sal was the best thing he’d ever felt in his life.
His knee was a little clammy under Larry’s hand but it was good.
Sal had the courage to bring this up.
One day, Larry would have the courage to tell him exactly what it meant to him. His elbows were bony and pressing awkwardly into the beanbag, causing the whole thing to tilt sideways but it was the best thing.
~
There was a time for courage and there was a time for quiet and there was a time for saying things.
Larry was on the mini-couch, curled sideways a little, his feet on the floor to accommodate Sal’s head on his hip. The smaller boy had come out of his final class of the day at school and looked exhausted. Larry had guided him home and immediately took him downstairs to lay on the couch.
The music was playing as it always was when they were in his room.
He could feel Sal’s fingers curled tightly in the fabric of his pants, where they were a little looser at the knee. What was worse was that he could still feel Sal shaking, his entire body trembling as he continued to deal with the bad alone. Whatever was going on in his head, it was obviously hurting him still, had been since before they’d made it home.
With just a bit of hesitation, Larry reached out and put a hand on Sal’s head, scratching gently at his scalp. “Dude,” he said quietly. “I can hear everything bouncing around in there. What’s up?”
“I shouldn’t…” Sal started his sentence, then groaned and rolled so that the forehead of his prosthetic was pressing into Larry’s thigh. “It was just something stupid, someone said it at school, I don’t…” his hand clutched tighter at Larry’s jeans, the trembling even worse now. “It shouldn’t matter that much.”
“Obviously it does,” Larry sat up a little, bracing himself with his free arm. “Want to talk about it?”
“…Yeah.”
“Okay,” he adjusted Sal’s head onto his lap, scratching gently at the base of his pigtails. “Where do you want to start?”
He could feel it when Sal relaxed just slightly, his shoulders slumping from the tense position they’d been in. “Probably at the beginning,” Sal muttered, tracing a thread in his jeans with one finger. “There were some girls at school today and they just…Said…Stuff.”
Oh.
Larry wanted to pull Sal entirely into his lap and hug him, make himself into as much of a shield as he could be for the other boy. “About?”
“…My prosthetic.”
“Yeah, okay,” Larry felt a bit of anger in his chest. “Then they’re stupid, if they were making fun of it.”
Silence, no answer, Sal’s entire body stiff and still and a soft whimpering noise.
Hit the nail on the head.
“Dude, it’s fucking cool. It’s a part of you and who you are and it just means that you’ve gone through some shit and you’re still alive today.”
“…Larry?”
Sal twitched and Larry pulled his hands away, letting him sit up. “What?”
“…Can I show you?”
For a moment his heart stops and he wants to kiss Sal again. They’ve gotten pretty good at it, even with Larry not being able to see what he’s doing. He knows the curve of Sal’s back, the way he kneels into Larry’s lap and the weight of him. The warmth of him when they’re holding close to each other. He could go off into poetry about the way Sal leans into him, the way his hair falls and creates a curtain around him.
When they kiss, it’s a lot of hair, especially when Sal pulls his down from his pigtails.
“Yeah,” Larry said quietly. Sal was still tensed up, like he almost wanted to run but his feet hadn’t gotten the message yet. He relaxed a little when Larry spoke next. “You can show me. Do you want to?”
A shaky sigh and Sal nodded. “Yeah.”
“Alright.”
He kept his hands to himself, looking at Sal in what he hoped was a reassuring way. The other boy took a deep breath and pulled off the prosthetic slowly. His hands were shaking and he immediately looked down at his own lap, hiding what was revealed.
Larry waited, letting him go at his own pace.
Sal pulled his hair down, letting it form a curtain around his head and he sighs. “Just…Don’t panic, alright?”
He sounded scared.
“Would I?”
That got a laugh from Sal and Larry can feel when some of his anxiety spills out and away from him. “No, probably not.”
With a deep breath, Sal looked up, his shoulders coming up to his chin. It makes him seem even smaller than he is and Larry wants to hold him and keep him safe. There were several dimpled scars across his left cheek and a sunken-in portion on his right, leading up to the right eye. Without the mask, Larry could see that his right eye wasn’t real, it looked too glassy and reflective. Some of the scarring looked like teeth.
“Woah,” he reached forward slowly, then pauses. “Can I?”
Sal’s eyes were opened wide and he looked stunned. “Yeah. I mean,” shrugging again. “If you really want to.”
“It’s not going to hurt anything?” Larry put his hands on Sal’s chin and cheeks, feeling his warmth and the shape of his jaw. “This looks sick, dude. Properly metal, y’know?”
Sal burst into laughter and Larry joined in, watching his face crinkle into a smile for the first time.
This must be what his mother felt when she looked at his father, he thinks. He wants to try mixing paint to match Sal’s eyes again, wants to write poetry to him, about him, to tell the world about him. He’s beautiful, scars and all, and he is everything Larry wants in his life when it comes to romance and happiness.
Sal was pretty.
Even if his prettiness came from something no one else would think about. It came from the way he tilted his shoulders, the way he laughed and it was muffled behind his prosthetic. His sort of pretty was in spite of everyone who called him anything else. He was scarred and a little scared and bitter and angry, but Larry loved him.
Oh, Larry thought as he kept laughing, leaning in to press his forehead gently against Sal’s. Oh.
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