Virgin [sʜᴀᴍᴇʀᴏɴ]

III

You're the only thing going on in my mind, taking over my life a second time.

The 1975

     Being tangled up in Cameron was possibly one of [if not] Shawn's favourite things. Being tangled up with Shawn who couldn't keep his mouth shut and his hands to himself was definitely Cameron's favourite thing. It helped even, when Shawn couldn't keep his mouth shut for the fact that he was singing. Cameron locked his arms around Shawn, kissing his hair and humming some tune. Shawn's limp had mostly subsided, after countless Epsom soaks and plenty of bed rest, he was practically back to normal.

     Cameron ran his hands up and down the boys thighs. He stopped midway and squeezed them lightly. He himself couldn't keep his hands off of Shawn. He had good reasons as to why of course, but it almost seemed juvenile in some ways. And that was ironic really, considering the secret that Shawn kept to himself. The older of the two stared into the other's eyes with the kind of intensity that said I love you. Shawn smiled over, up in his head about the future and neglecting those thoughts about how he was too young for the boy that lay next to him some nights.

     Cameron grabbed Shawn's hand and kissed it. He let his lips linger and he made sure to keep eye contact with Shawn who's cheeks reddened at the sign of affection. He was a sucker for it really, Cameron could kiss his cheek or mark his neck and he would be more than satisfied.

Those were the only occurrences for which he was so easily satisfied. In other cases, Cameron was made to work, harder than a honeybee on the eve of summer's end. Made to drive Shawn crazy before walls came crumbling.

     "One of these days." Cameron started, pulling Shawn's hand back so that he could speak legibly. "I'm going to cover this." He kissed Shawn's hand again, particularly where his fourth finger met his knuckle. "With more than just my lips. I want that day to be soon." He admitted and Shawn tried not to be so sensitive, eyes discreetly welling up before he wiped them with his free hand. "And we're going to go to every single church. Every single one of them, until they say yes." He said so with a new form of determination riddling his tone and he leaned over to kiss Shawn, throwing all of those nasty churches to the back of his mind. All of the places that would not accept he and Shawn. He wouldn't stand to see Shawn unhappy, he knew that they had a good life ahead of them. He trusted love and what it could do. Love, he knew, could turn the blackest heart to the warmest of reds, glowing, urging other hearts to do the same.

     Shawn disconnected, scooted down and rested his head on Cameron's exposed chest. He peeked around the room and found himself lost in the photos, memories along the walls and framed upon the surface tops and hung from stringy wire that had been secured over a thumbtack. There were so many; when he had met Gina and Sierra for the first time, when Cameron broke his ankle climbing some gate when he was twelve. He and Cameron's first date and the time that Cameron had purchased live lobsters and let them crawl around the flat.

     Shawn remembered that all. How he'd whined in fear, hiding behind the couch only for the smallest one to come around and swipe at him, bound claw and all. He had ran to Cameron's arms for comfort and somehow the burner was off, the lobsters were back in the closed pot, Shawn's tears were gone and Cameron was apologising with his body. Shawn breathed a laugh at the memory, it had been his 16th birthday. He told his parents that he was staying over Aaron's, even went home with him after his party only to have Cameron pull up in his [now retired] truck and bring him back to his flat for dinner.

     "What's in that pretty little head?" Cameron inquired.

     "Us...remember the lobsters that night?" Shawn laughed again and Cameron looked down at him reflectively. He nodded slightly, best as he could as an indication for Cameron's gaze to re-avert and rest upon the photo.

     "Of course I remember the lobsters." And how could he forget it? The way that they had crawled when he had let them loose. The way that Shawn had taken refuge behind the couch and the grunt of the pod had come for him, swinging his claws almost as if Shawn had wronged him. Despite his clear intent to devour the crustacean, Shawn had been innocent.

     The memory could heat him up even still, it had been a year since then, nearing two he had equated. He remembered Shawn being in his bedroom for the first time, walking his stairs for the first time, that night was the first time for an array of things and neither of the two were shy about it.

Sure Shawn worried sometimes, wondered what all Olivia knew when it came to how he conducted himself outside of the house, but she hadn't ratted about his side walk, and that was all that mattered to him.

     Cameron could remember more than just the lobsters though, he could remember the scratches along his back and the hisses and moans, his self restraint that night, how rough he'd wanted to be, but how tender love had made him. And he didn't have that to worry about anymore, he could go hard, fast, slow, torture the lad who had grown accustomed to him. And that is what time had done to them both, turned them into incautious lovers, mostly unafraid to test each other's limits.

     Shawn had unanswered messages in his phone, multiplying as Aaliyah made it her mission to garner his attention. He was her brother, what he did, she wanted to do, what he didn't do, she veered away from with a curious mind, and so when it dawned on her that he'd mostly been spending his time with friends, she couldn't help, but to have the itch, the desire to tag along.

Shawn would have found it torturous had he not experienced the same thing with his own father, wanting to warm the spot below his wing, to come up under him in every sense before he began to notice the feathers at his sides, before he hesitantly unveiled the breadth of said wings, before he fell and shrieked and flapped and flew. Shawn had been just like Aaliyah, but his inviting her to Cameron's home was risky, she hadn't been educated on the parameters of his situation, and Shawn saw her walking [quite easily] into petrol that she mistook for water.

     If there was anything that Shawn did not want, it was a disruption. His life was well. Yes, fabricated truths had been brought into play, but he saw himself slowly wiping the mud away, and sooner than he'd imagined.