Vanilla Dusk ✓

Loop Part 3

Shayne was impeccable in Erik's eyes.

He just didn't realise it.

His face was a perfect blend of Western and Eastern features, with choppy dark hair that was always fluffy to ruffle, auburn liquid eyes that were large and round and often sparkly, with natural faint shadow lines as if he had put on light make-up, slightly thick brows and a slanted nose that marked his British origin, exceptionally long lashes and flawless porcelain skin from his oriental mother that made him rather androgynous.

He was good at Languages and History, even better at Maths and Science, skilful at swimming and footfall, graceful in every move when he was doing gymnastics and talented when it came to sketching.

He never answered any questions wrong in class or failed in a test or got any wounds from any fights.

And his family was well-off enough to afford anything for him.

Why then.

Why would someone like him choose to leave everything behind?

Erik never told Shayne why he was weeping when they first met, because he, too, was confused. Shayne had looked so cool leaning against the railing while glancing up at the sky. When the wind brushed through his brown curls, his eyes were closed, his mouth slightly open as if he was wallowing in the pacifying embrace from nature. He had looked so calm perching on the ledge, his delicate frame threatening to roll off at any second and causing a dispersal of crimson petals on the ground below. It was at that very moment Erik decided to stride towards that painfully striking figure and as if he had experienced this countless times before, waves after waves of emotions suddenly washed over him, overflowing like an open tap, flooding his mind and filling it to its brims.

Before he realised it, tears were prickling the corners of his eyes because for a brief moment, he thought he saw Shayne jump off with an enigmatic smile, right in front of him, and the mere sight of it caused an agonising squeeze in his heart. He would have dashed towards him, grasped his loose shirt and hauled him back with all his might or simply rolled over the railing and plummeted down with him if his feet hadn't been stabled to the ground.

He felt that he had lost something, like a limb or an organ or the imaginary wings that had been ripped off from his back, where two birthmarks resembling two long gashes remained visible, and there was a gap in his chest, so large the air was leaking and he could barely breathe. He was plunging hundreds of meters below the sea surface and the tank ran out of air. The harder he sucked on the regulator, the more his lungs constricted and then all at once, his mouth was wide open filled with torrents of sea water.

He had to stop Shayne when he could.

He, too, felt that they had met somewhere before. It was as if...

'As if we've been together for a decade or more,' said Shayne once, when he discovered their familiarity – the eccentric coincidence that they both possessed the same birthmarks and had a hunch that they had lived a life as something else. 'Do you ever feel this?'

'Feel what?'

'Like we've met before,' said Shayne. 'Like when you see something for the first time but you find it familiar.'

'As if you've seen it in your dream before,' added Erik. 'Isn't that a normal phenomenon?'

But that never explained why he wanted to cry for this stranger.

They were best friends for two years before their relationship developed into something else.

They were in their last year of secondary school, preparing for their A-levels. Shayne was helping Erik in every possible way to get his grades up. He gave him private tutoring on Maths, guided him through the complicated parts in projects and wrote exclusive notes for him. Shayne received unconditional offers from several renowned colleges but he refused to take them. When Erik asked him why he was wasting his opportunities, he simply shrugged.

'Where would you like to be?' he had asked.

'What do you mean?' asked Erik.

'Which college are you aiming for?'

'I don't know.'

'Tell me when you know.'

Erik ended up at King's just like his brother and Shayne followed him there, when he could have easily gone for Cambridge or Oxford or somewhere else.

'Would you actually prefer me to go somewhere else then?' asked Shayne after they received their final admission offers.

'No, of course not,' said Erik. He didn't want to lie. He would rather be selfish and keep Shayne beside him than let him go.

Shayne chuckled. So rarely had Erik seen him so delighted before. Shayne had always got this dark, deterring aura around him as if his world was crumbling down, someone had owed him a billion, set fire to his house or confiscated his beloved book collections. He had got so accustomed to solitude he basically had no reason to smile, to laugh or joke around.

'I'm so glad,' said Shayne, as he stretched his arms and put them behind his head.

'Why?'

'That we can still be together.'

Erik could feel the heat rising to his cheeks and before Shayne could glimpse him, his face was beet red. It was at that point he knew he felt something else for Shayne, something beyond a friend was capable of. He stole a look at Shayne's smiley face which had gotten more mature over the past two years. His androgynous features still remained, but his jawline had deepened.

He produced these adorable giggles so much more often now.

He no longer visited the rooftop.

'We should celebrate,' suggested Shayne, nudging Erik's elbow.

They ordered a lot of take-away and Shayne dug out some exquisite wine his father had been storing in the cabinet. They started drinking while watching Sherlock Holmes. They weren't used to drinking, so in the next hour, they both got intoxicated. Dazed and groggy, they leaned against each other on the sofa. Shayne felt giddy and hot. Erik, already sweating much, removed his cardigan and took another sip of the wine. Nobody remembered who made the first move but the drunkenness gave them an alluring excuse to try what they wouldn't dare to when they were sane.

They experimented with the slightest sensation at first. A peck at each other's lips. It felt wondrous. Soft and warm and full of a tantalising smell of liquor. A few more pecks and it evolved into a passionate battle between each other's tongues.

As their lips brushed forcibly against each other, they were both struck by a remnant of an image; a familiar scene that seemed to have taken place long ago. At the same place with the same person, they had kissed. In one of his long-lost dreams, Shayne had wrapped his arms around his boy and cradled him. He had tasted his addictive lips, absorbed his scent, fondled those bright messy locks and felt his breath on the crook of his neck.

He had, he knew it, touched him before.

'Hey,' panted Erik, as if he had seen through Shayne, 'wanna do some more?'

'Like?'

'I don't know.' Erik shrugged. 'Any suggestions?'

'You know,' mumbled Shayne. 'Kind of feel that we've done this before.'

'Same here,' agreed Erik. 'So, it's not just me.'

'Think I like you,' said Shayne, nuzzling the other's neck gently. 'Very much.'

'I've liked you for quite a long while.'

Shayne lay back on the sofa, a beguiling face hovering over him with half-lidded eyes as the hot tip of a tongue began to poke his nape and explore his shoulder blades, swirling on his skin causing pleasuring tickles. He had felt this wondrous heat before. It spread slowly all over his cheeks and rushed to his brain, causing his vision to blur and his heart to skip a beat. Erik's hands were firm on his chest, pressing him down tenderly as his lips danced around his exposed parts.

And just like in his memory, Erik looked as alluring as could be.