Caston was laying in the backseat of Malachi's truck, his arm over his eyes, and his left leg propped up on the back of the seat. His skin was stiff from the sun and he could still smell nature, even though they'd been in the car for a few hours.
"Cas, move your fucking foot." Malachi sighed, placing his arm on the back of the passenger seat and trying to look out the back window.
"We're almost home. Use your rear view mirrors. That's what they're for." Caston huffed, adjusting his position and leaning his head against the back of the seat.
"Noah, take the wheel."
"What? Why? Oh-"
Malachi turned quickly and leaned into the back of the truck. He grabbed Caston's knee and harshly pushed his leg down.
"Woah! The fuck!?" Caston turned to look at him.
"I told you to move your fucking foot." Malachi sat properly in his seat, not sparing Caston another glance.
"We could've crashed and died."
"You would've liked that, huh?"
"What the fuck crawled up your ass?" Caston huffed, rolling his eyes.
Malachi slammed on the breaks suddenly, making Caston fall out of the seat and onto the floor. "Yo! What the fuck!?"
"Should've worn your seat belt." Malachi said simply.
Caston huffed loudly as he climbed back into the seat.
"Okay...so Imma go. Thanks for making me feel like a child of divorce. Nice catching up with you. I'll see you tomorrow. Um...nice meeting you, Caston. I look forward to further testing your emotional bandwidth." Noah said, as he hopped out of the truck.
"See you tomorrow." Malachi nodded at him, his left hand still on the steering wheel.
Caston got out of the truck and climbed into the passenger seat. "So what the fuck is wrong with you?"
Malachi sighed and drove away from Noah's house, not saying a word.
"Aww the silent treatment. That's cute." Caston put his feet up on the dash. "Just let me know when you're ready to be a grown up and talk."
Malachi exhaled a laugh.
"What? Please enlighten me." Caston bent his left leg on the seat and turned slightly towards Malachi, resting his arm on his right leg.
Malachi sighed and pulled over suddenly. He roughly put the car in park and turned towards Caston. "You want to know what's fucking wrong with me!? You! You came into my life and fucked things up! Everything was fine and normal! I was content with my life and then you fucking ruined it! You ruined me! You fucking killed someone Caston! Like you actually murdered someone! And then you fucking killed my dog and now my friends think I'm gay because of you!"
"I'm sorry, what?" Caston laughed. "They think you're gay because of me? You were the one who gave us away at that bonfire. I didn't do shit. I would've been fine fucking in secret for the rest of our lives."
"Stop grouping me up with you. There is no us. There is no me and you. There's no fucking we here, okay?"
"Okay..." Caston chuckled. "Are you done with your little tantrum now?"
"I'm fucking done with you." Malachi sighed, looking away from Caston and then pulling back onto the road.
They rode in silence for the next fifteen minutes, the only sound being Malachi's occasional sighs and Caston's foot tapping on the dashboard.
"What are you doing?" Caston flicked his head to the side when Malachi made a right turn, instead of a left one.
"Taking you home."
"Am I not going back to yours?"
"No. Mom called before we left and said your dad wants you home."
"So the house is done?"
"Yup."
"What about my stuff?"
"It's there."
"Thank you. This conversation has been riveting." Caston smiled sarcastically. He sat up as his house came into view and put his feet back on the floor of the car. "Can I expect this cold attitude to continue?"
"Get out, Caston."
"Aww, no kiss goodbye?" Caston fake pouted, then rolled his eyes. "See you...whenever this is over, I guess."
"Won't treat me differently, my ass." Caston sighed, rolling his eyes. He took on a high-pitched mocking tone, "You will always just be Caston and that's perfectly fine with me. Fucking liar."
He threw a middle finger at the back of Malachi's truck, then stomped his way up to the front door; his attempt to open it was unsuccessful. He knocked a bit heavier than he should've, then stared at the door impatiently.
A few minutes later, it opened and his dad smiled at him. "Caston! Welcome home."
Caston nodded awkwardly and slipped past him into the house. "Damn. You really fixed this place up, huh?" Caston trailed his eyes over the fresh paint, new wooden floors, and nice furniture. "It finally doesn't look like a Crack den."
Mr. Hill chuckled. "Yeah, that was the point."
"Did you do anything to my room?" Caston asked, staring at his father intensely.
"No. I told them not to touch it." Mr. Hill raised his hands slightly.
Caston nodded and turned on his heel. He threw his backpack onto the floor and stared at his room for a few seconds. He flicked his eyes over to his dresser, where the keys to his motorcycle were laying amongst a mess of things--mostly empty condom wrappers and cash. He quickly changed and grabbed his keys, walking out the door with a simple "bye, I'm going out" to his dad.
It felt so good to be on his motorcycle again. The wind, the sound of engine, the feeling of the handlebars, the constant stares from passers by.
He easily walked into his favorite bar, Ivy greeting him with their usual enthusiasm.
"Caston! Where the fuck have you been!? I thought you died!" Ivy yelled, their eyes wide.
Caston laughed and jumped up onto the bar. "I went on a trip. Give me something strong."
"Where did you go?" Ivy asked, pouring a mix of colorful liquids into the metal cup and then shaking it vigorously.
"Some camp. Not important."
"Did you have a terrible time or something?" Ivy chuckled, pushing a full glass towards him.
"No. I just hate catching up with people. It's boring as hell. I did this. You did that. Who fuckin cares?" Caston rolled his eyes and chugged his drink.
He turned back to face the crowd of intoxicated people, scanning the room for a potential hookup. He leaned back on his left arm and continued to dump his drink into his mouth with his right hand. He turned and outstretched the empty glass towards Ivy. "Another."
"Way ahead of you." Ivy grabbed the empty glass and replaced it with a full one.
Caston chugged the second drink faster than the first, then hopped off of the counter and walked into the crowd of strangers.
His head was spinning beautifully and if he remembered that the first day of his senior year was tomorrow, maybe he would've drank less (he wouldn't have).
Caston left the bar with a shorter, more feminine guy than he usually would, but he was feeling rather frustrated and fucking someone sounded nice.
Killing someone sounded better, but he was too tired to clean up a crime scene and he didn't really know what the fuck was up with Malachi and he definitely couldn't do it without him.
Short pretty boy, Wyatt, was very handsy the second he sat behind Caston on his motorcycle. He swerved every time he had to grab Wyatt's hand and move it back up to his waist.
"Fucking hell...be patient, you jumpy little twink." Caston sighed, as he tried to unlock the door with Wyatt kissing his neck.
The small boy chuckled against his skin and they stumbled into the house. Caston was surprised that the lights were on, given the fact that it was almost 2am.
After closing the door, Caston glanced over to the living room, seeing his dad sitting on the couch expectantly.
"Oh, hey dad." Caston said, making Wyatt jump away from him and stand up straight.
"Caston." Mr. Hill stood up and crossed his arms. "You have school tomorrow."
"Yes, I am aware." Caston lied. He totally forgot.
"You can't be out late on a school night, Caston. You know I don't have a problem with your lifestyle or whatever you want to call it, but I can't, in good conscience, let you have boys over this late on school nights. That's the line."
Caston sighed and rolled his eyes. "Come on. It's not like it's gonna render me useless or incapable of getting up tomorrow. I still get up early in the summer, it's not that big of a deal."
"Caston, I do not want to have this argument with you." Mr. Hill sighed.
"Me either. Night." Caston saluted with two fingers, then grabbed Wyatt's wrist and walked down the hallway, that still smelled of paint.
"You can just...dismiss your dad like that? Are you not like...worried that he'll get mad or punish you or something?" Wyatt said, expressing more stress over it than Caston ever has.
"No. I'm not." Caston chuckled, locking his door and then pulling his shirt over his head. "I'm simply going to do what I want and prove him wrong. Then he'll feel pretty fucking stupid."
"I could never-"
"If you're about to trauma dump, let me stop you right there because I don't give a single shit about your life. I just wanna fuck."
"Wow you really know how to charm a guy." Wyatt said in a flat tone.
"It's one of my many talents. Just like what I'm about to do to you."
Wyatt rolled his eyes, then crossed his arms. "You're not doing anything to me if you're gonna act like that."
"The fuck are you talking about? I'm being myself?"
"Well yourself sucks." Wyatt walked past him and reached for the door handle.
Caston reached back and grabbed his wrist, making him turn around quickly. He saw that familiar flash in his eyes and Caston's stomach flipped excitedly. Fear. He's scared of you.
"Dude, just let me go." Wyatt said, trying to pull his wrist out of Caston's hand and failing.
Caston inched closer until Wyatt's back was against the door. "I know you don't mean that."
"Um yes..I do. It's late and I should get home. I have school tomorrow too."
"But we haven't even done anything yet."
"I know. I don't want to. Let me go..please." Wyatt sighed, trying to pull his wrist away again.
Caston clicked his tongue and shook his head, his tingling hands making him grip the boy even tighter, "Wyatt..Wyatt...that was the wrong thing to say to me right now."
"Look, I'm sorry, but I'm just not feeling it anymore. You can go find someone else. Just let me go please."
"I don't want someone else," Caston smirked, "I want you."
"Grow up."
"Oh you don't want to say that. Grown up Caston knows too much. He does too much. You wouldn't be too fond of grown up Caston."
Wyatt looked up at him with a strange expression. Caston knows that if the boy wasn't pinned against a door, he'd be backing away.
"The fuck is wrong with you?" Wyatt jerked his arm harshly, almost freeing himself. Almost.
"There's a lot wrong with me. You're about to find out the kicker." Caston smiled.
"What? Are you gonna kill me?" Wyatt huffed out a weak laugh.
Caston inched closer and tilted his head, still smiling, "Ding ding ding."
Wyatt continued to try to find a way out, even though he was fully trapped in place.
Caston liked this. Playing it up. Increasing the fear. It felt really good. Almost better than the other times. He felt more present and aware of what he was about to do. His arms still felt like static, but were so much easier to control. Maybe he was indulging in how good it felt too much because that seemed to be overpowering common sense. Like the fact that blood goes everywhere.
With Oliver, he figured out that stabbing only gets you so far. It only increases the risk of escape. Slicing. That's the motion he goes for. Hit an artery and boom. Wyatt is on the floor.
Caston looked down at his blood-covered hands and then down to the body slowly bleeding out. He tilted his head and watched red slowly cover his floor. It reached his boots and flowed around his feet like a river.
Wyatt was still audibly choking and Caston wondered what it feels like to slowly bleed to death. Is it painful? Does it feel like choking on water? Is it like drowning? Do you feel anything at all?
Caston wasn't sure what made him do it, but he was suddenly staring directly down at Wyatt with his foot on his chest. When he put his foot back on the floor, there was a bloody boot print on the front of Wyatt's shirt.
Caston chuckled. "It's like my signature."
He ended up sitting on Wyatt's thighs, resting his arms on his knees, and his chin on his arms. He stared down at the boy, watching his skin turn pale and his hands loose around his neck. His chapped lips were parted and Caston watched his eyes blink two more times before they stared blankly at the ceiling.
Caston leaned forward and traced Wyatt's face with his bloody index finger. He pushed his head to the side, and then to the other side. He sat in silence and stared at the body, as if waiting for it to move or suddenly disappear.
"Guess we're done here." Caston sighed and stood up.
He looked down at the scene again and remembered why he didn't plan on killing anyone tonight. He has to clean it up.
"Oh fuck me." Caston huffed.
He stared down at the scene for a few more minutes, then took a breath and looked over to his dresser, where he had laid his phone. He walked over a picked it up, the taps of his thumb leaving blood on the screen.
He listened to the line ringing for an ungodly amount of time. His hand was resting on his hip and he tapped his fingers against his skin.
"Hello?"
Caston automatically knew Malachi wasn't very coherent because 1. He answered and 2. His voice was low and groggy, indicating that he had been woken up by the call.
"Hey, look...I know you're like mad at me or something right now, but I really don't care why. I just need you to put that aside for a second and wake the fuck up right now."
"Cas, what the fuck did you do?" Malachi asked lowly, after audibly sitting up.
"Well, I didn't mean to..like originally. I was just trying to fuck this guy and one thing led go another and-"
"You killed him, didn't you?"
"Yeah, he's pretty dead." Caston poked the body with his foot.
"Cas..." Malachi sighed heavily, sounding like a stressed out dad. Caston could easily picture him sitting up shirtless in bed, rubbing his face. "I can't just drop everything and help you clean up a dead body whenever you need me to."
"But you're so good at it."
"Yeah, not exactly a compliment, Cas."
"Maybe not to you. I think it's-"
"I don't care what you think it is. Look, I'm going to come over and help you because who knows what the fuck you'll do if I don't, but this is the last time I risk facing criminal charges for you."
"That's what you think." Caston smirked.
"Never again, Caston. I mean it. Unlock the front door."
"The fuck? You're here already?"
"You're two minutes away by car. Unlock the door." Malachi said flatly, then hung up.
Caston shuffled to the front door and let Malachi in, leading him to his room.
"Fuck, Cas..." Malachi sighed, stepping over the pool of blood and looking down at the scene.
"Yeah, this one kind of got away from me." Caston chuckled, looking down at his blood covered skin.
"Kind of? It's all over your chest and your hands. Did you fucking step on him? What the fuck?" Malachi flicked his eyes around the room, as if trying to find a surface that didn't have blood on it.
"Turns out slitting someone's throat is not only effective, but messy as hell." Caston chuckled.
"I can't believe my first time being in your room is to help you get a dead body out of it."
"You must not know me very well."
"I know you more than I'd like to." Malachi sighed again. "Let's wrap him in your sheets and push him out the window. It'd be easier than carrying him through the house and risking running into your dad or for fuck's sake dripping blood anywhere."
"In my sheets?"
"It's your murder scene, Caston. Your fault for doing it. Your fault for not being prepared. Lose the sheets or go to fucking jail."
"Alright fine. Damn." Caston raised his hands and walked over to strip his bed.
"How the fuck are you going to clean up all of the blood?" Malachi asked, looking down at the red-stained floor.
"I thought maybe you'd know." Caston shrugged.
"Yes. Because my knowledge of stain remedies is so great." Malachi rolled his eyes.
Once the body was securely wrapped in the sheets, Caston opened the window and Malachi heaved the body out onto the grass. He quickly ran outside and tossed it into the back of his truck like he had done just weeks ago with Caston's first victim.
Malachi stopped in the bathroom on his way back, now holding bleach and a mop. He shoved them against Caston, "Get to work."
"Pfft no way."
"Caston..I drove over here at three in the fucking morning to help you clean up a dead fucking body. A body, Caston. This is your mess. You're lucky to have me here to do half of the fucking work for you. Now do your fucking part." Malachi poked Caston's chest harshly, then stepped out of the way.
Caston stared blankly at Malachi and poured bleach onto the floor. It took way longer than he would've liked to clean it up, but once the floor was no longer red and a bucket, that Malachi got from the bathroom, was full of bloody bleach water, the two boys got into Malachi's truck.
"Roll your window up, it's annoying." Caston said, cringing at the circulation in the car.
"You smell like bleach and death. I am not letting that smell settle into my truck." Malachi said, not taking his eyes off of the road.
They went in the same direction they had been when they buried Oliver, but Malachi seemed to drive a little bit longer. They were no longer on a hill and Malachi's truck barely fit through the gaps in the trees. He stopped in the middle of the densely packed forest and put the car in park.
"You're not gonna make me dig the hole too, are you?" Caston sighed, leaning his head back against the seat and to the side to face Malachi.
"No. We'd be here till sunrise. You can get him out of the truck though. It'll be good practice for when you're doing this by yourself next time." Malachi smiled, then hopped out of the truck.
Burning and burying a body felt ritualistic the second time around. Caston knows now that he enjoys the kill, but not the cleanup process. Too bad he doesn't desire federal prison because he'd go fucking nuts and leave shit everywhere.
Malachi dropped Caston off at his house without another word, speeding away the second Caston closed the passenger door.
Caston overused a can of Febreze in an attempt to cover up the strong smell of bleach that had wafted into the hallway. He had left his bedroom window open to air out the smell, which seemed to help quite a bit. He used another random cleaning product on the floor, that had a more tolerable scent and slightly weakened the smell of bleach.
His long hair was in a small ponytail atop his head and the blood was freshly washed off of his skin. As he re-entered his room, headlights flashed by his window and came to a halt at the front of the house.
Caston furrowed his eyebrows and walked up to the window, squinting at the vehicle and noticing that it was Malachi's truck. He quickly threw on clothes and walked through the house and out the front door.
Malachi was slowly walking up the path, his hands shoved into his hoodie pocket.
Caston smirked and crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe. "Did you miss me?"
"I forgot my key."
"Here?"
"No, in my fucking room, Caston. I can't get in my house." Malachi sighed.
"And you just think I'm gonna let you stay here?" Caston raised his eyebrows.
"I just burned and buried a dead body for you, I would hope you'd do just about any fucking thing I ask you to do."
"I don't know about anything..."
Malachi rolled his eyes and brushed past Caston into the house.
"I'll sleep on the couch. Night." Malachi walked towards the living room.
"And what if my dad sees you when he gets up?"
"I'll leave before then."
"How are you so sure?"
"Caston, I am not getting into bed with you."
"Why the fuck not?"
"Because I don't want to have sex with you, Caston."
"That's how my first hookup attempt died, you know that, right?"
"I would rather have you kill me than fuck me."
Caston gasped dramatically, "Rude!"
Malachi's mouth formed a quick, closed-mouth smile, then he turned towards the couch.
"It's four. My dad gets up at seven. You can't tell me that in less than three hours, you'll be up and out of here unseen." Caston said, crossing his arms.
Malachi sighed and turned back around to face Caston. "I'm only doing this because I don't want your dad to know I was here. If you touch me, I'll kill you."
Caston laughed genuinely, leaning forward slightly. He stopped when Malachi simply stared at him. "Oh you're serious? Okay. Got it." Caston over-exaggerated a formal salute.
"What did I do in a past life to deserve this?" Malachi sighed as he followed Caston down the hall.
"Maybe it's what you're doing in this life. You know...karma."
"Yes because out of the two of us, I'm the one who deserves the wrath of karma." Malachi rolled his eyes and then pulled his hoodie over his head.
"Point proven." Caston jabbed his hand in Malachi's direction.
"What are you talking about?"
"You just strip teased me after you explicitly said you don't want to have sex."
Malachi scoffed. "I'm too tired to deal with this shit right now. Just let me go to sleep."
He shuffled over to the bed and laid down, facing away from the side that Caston would lay on. Caston soon followed him, laying on his back and feeling the furthest from tired.
The open window was providing gentle background noise and a slight breeze. Caston glanced over at Malachi's back that was flexed beautifully in the moonlight. He sighed and turned away, staring up at the ceiling.
"Malachi..."
"What Caston?" Malachi groaned.
"How do you feel about it?"
"About what?"
"Me killing things. Like...when you see it, what do you feel?"
Malachi sighed and rolled onto his back. "I don't know, Caston. A lot. It's..definitely scary at first. Trying to figure out what to do and how to do it. I'm mostly confused because I don't know these people, but someone did. Is someone out there missing them and waiting for them to come home? It's...upsetting. It's hard for me to understand why you do it or even how you can do it, but it's already been done, so there's not much I can do except..help you. It doesn't make me feel good, that's for sure."
"I really wasn't planning on killing him. I knew I wanted to kill again. I felt it. A lot. I missed it. When I killed Oliver, the feeling of taking his last breath away...it made me feel something. It made me feel a way I'd felt only once before that. I liked it. A lot." A smile was tugging on Caston's lips. "And then I felt it again...with the dog and now with that other guy. It's just...it feels so good...like everything makes sense. Like I'm just like everybody else. Like it's what I'm supposed to do. I crave it constantly. The only time I feel half as good as that is when I have sex with you. And that's weird as fuck." Caston wasn't sure why he was ranting, but he let it happen because it felt good to talk about it.
Malachi stared up at the ceiling. "When did you...feel it the first time?"
Caston hesitated this time because he realized that he hadn't told Malachi yet. He wasn't avoiding it on purpose, he was just waiting for the right opportunity. He knows now that he can trust Malachi. Probably more than anyone else that he knows. So he said the words out loud for the first time in his life, "When I killed my mom."
"Guess that answers my long unanswered question then." Malachi released a partial laugh. "How do I make you feel?"
"Like a supernova. A fucking cosmic explosion."
"And that's half as good as killing feels? Damn."
"I was being sarcastic, Malachi." Caston chuckled. "I have no idea how you make me feel. I just know that I like having you around."
There was a beat of silence, then Caston glanced over at Malachi again. "And how do I make you feel?"
"Let's stop talking about this, it's weird." Malachi sighed, putting his arms up and beneath his head.
"What about all that shit you said to me at camp?"
"That's it. It was shit. I didn't mean it."
"Then why did you say it? You know I hate that kind of stuff. Why would you put me through that awkward shit if you didn't mean it?" Caston asked, now fully facing Malachi.
"I don't know. I was overwhelmed and confused, I guess. I spent my entire life trying to not be...that. I worked so hard to just be a normal high school boy. This is my last year of high school and I can't just throw that all away after three years. I just want a normal senior year. I can't deal with a bunch of complicated shit."
"So you're saying we could have a secret love affair, where you're the closeted captain of the football team and I'm the outcast boy you secretly hookup with in the bathroom?" Caston smirked.
"No. I'm saying the exact opposite of that. I don't want some secret that I have to hide from everyone. I want to be normal. I don't want to be involved with you anymore, Caston."
"Oh."
Caston doesn't remember falling asleep, but the action of Malachi climbing out of bed woke him up suddenly. He squinted in the light of the room and watched Malachi tug his hoodie over his head and ruffle his hair.
Caston got up slowly and closed his window, shivering at the morning cold. He turned to Malachi, who was slipping his shoes on. "Guess I'll see you at school?"
Malachi stood up straight and shoved his hands into his pocket. "Not if I can help it."
"Stop, I'm gonna get aroused." Caston smirked.
"Goodbye, Caston." Malachi turned around and opened the door.
Caston left his room seconds later to grab a pop tart from the kitchen. He held the wrapped pastry in his hand and looked across the room at his dad and Malachi.
Malachi's hands were still in his pocket and he was frozen in the middle of the entry way. Mr. Hill was just feet in front of him, seeming to have just stood up from the couch.
"Malachi." Mr. Hill nodded, a smug expression on his face.
Malachi smiled awkwardly and nodded back, then swiftly walked out the front door.
Mr. Hill walked into the kitchen, giving Caston a knowing look. "Things not work out with the other boy?"
"Nah."
"So you and Malachi..?"
Caston looked at the front door, then back to his dad. "Kind of."
"That's good. I know his mom's been trying to get him to come out for years."
"How do you know that?" Caston furrowed his eyebrows.
Mr. Hill sipped his coffee and shrugged. "We talk."
"Okay. I'm gonna get ready for school." Caston dismissed himself awkwardly.
YOU ARE READING
Hedon
Random[Proper description in progress...] I'm warning you, this story is messy and all over the place because I wrote it for me and my mind. It's also a little dark maybe, so..you are forewarned I guess.
