I seem to remember this being the title of a book from
when I was a kid, um so let's say it's borrowed without permission since I am
to lazy to look that up.
* ** *** * **
Mike Modano / Jason Arnott implied Mike /Brett and
Jason / Petr Mike Modano and Aaron Downey.
This is of course fiction.
Because it turns out that happy endings are fucking
boring, what the hell were they thinking?
It was better when they were both tortured lovers,
ripped from the ones they adored Ð and who it goes without saying adored them
unceasingly back Ð the most.
They had not some much come together as collapsed
together against each other, pushed together by the twin tides of their need
and former devotions. They were quite darkly deliciously star-crossed. Pun
intended.
Even though Brett and Petr were at the very most a
phone call away.
But, when is their time to slay the dragon and steal
gold and resuce princes and farm boys and whatever when you have to, fight over
the washing. And clothes. And where to have dinner. It's hard to maintain any
tragic poise in the face of, like, their parents meeting each other.
Mike decides to take matter into his own hands and
fuck it up by fucking Aaron, running his hands up Aaron's chest even as he
licks the length of his neck and pushes him back against the worn wood of the
lockers.
Jason can dump Mike for being a whore, and Mike can
easily play the guilty ex-lover. Aaron can parley his own actions Ð forgetting
the come hither looks like a princess trapped to long in her tower without
action that he directed in Mike's direction Ð into a tragic history of his own.
He turns his big brown eyes on Bill. 'You wonÕt hurt me' they say. Of course
Bill will, and Aaron may well relish letting him.
Being alone is fucking tedious, especially on slow
Sunday afternoons when there is nothing worth watching on TV and the new
playstation game is not out. But being bored is still fucking worse.
