The Mortician's Son (BoyxBoy)

C H A P T E R . O 9

Y O U  A N D  M E

Luke was about to cut into a new body when heard the doorbell ring. Lifting his head, he momentarily wondered who it could be - it was only about one o'clock in the afternoon - and then thought that perhaps it was Cloud dropping by for a surprise visit. Turning away  from his work, he went to the door.

He was shocked to find Blake standing there, Nathan slung over his shoulder and dried blood down both boys' fronts.

"Luke, I can explain—" Blake began but he was cut off when Luke seized his collar and lifted him several feet from the ground. The teen somehow managed to take hold of Nathan's arm to keep the brunette from falling.

"What the fuck did you do to my son?" He snarled menacingly; above them, the porch light burst, sending sparks and pieces of glass raining down on them.

"He had a nosebleed," the eighteen-year-old gasped, his feet dangling. "He passed out and I brought him home!"

"Oh." Luke said, released him, immediately shifting back to his usual polite, chipper demeanor. "I apologize," he said with a smile as he stepped aside to let him inside.

"Forgive me for jumping to conclusions, Blake."

"N-n-no problem," Blake replied, a bit of leftover terror slipping into his voice.

⌂ ♂ ✝ ♂ ⌂

'I'm screwed,' Blake realized this as he sat in his desk, his face in his hands.

After taking Nathan to his house, he stammered out a lame excuse and escaped as fast as he could. He realized it was a stupid, guilty-looking move, but he was too petrified of Luke to stay any longer.

But now, Blake had to deal with the crippling anxiety of being smote where he sat at any given moment. He knew it was a matter of time, and he had it all written up in his head in vivid detail: Nathan would wake up. Luke would probably recount what Blake had said. Nathan would reply with something along the lines of: "But Dad, that's not all, Blake molested me. He used me to throw off all his admirers. Go kill him, Dad." Then Luke would enter his room by some form of magic or black witchcraft, rip off his lie-spreading jawbone with his bare hands and leave him to bleed to death.

An hour crept by. Then two hours. Three hours passed and the eighteen-year-old began to wonder if Luke was going to destroy him at all. And finally — still alive — as he got ready for bed, speculating that he might just live for another day. If that was so, then what had happened? Perhaps Luke was feeling merciful? Or maybe Nathan didn't say anything?

Either way, he spent a majority of the night tormented with nightmares of Luke strapping him to a surgical table and (while the teen was still fully conscious) slicing his chest open with a dull knife.

⌂ ♂ ✝ ♂ ⌂

The next day was not better for Blake, even if it was after Valentine's Day. Nathan didn't come to school. The halls were alive with talk of his and Nathan Lukewood's secret make-out session and it was practically official that the desirable and gorgeous Blake Yorushi was taken.

Alex was practically grinning ear to ear as the other teen approached the table with his near-empty lunch tray in hand.

"Heard the wonderful news!" the redhead said, slapping his back jovially. "You and Nathan, huh?"

"Al, let's not talk about it, please," Blake said miserably.

"Oh." Alex immediately caught what wasn't said. "So you…?"

"I did kiss him. But he… uh, didn't take it well."

"So, how did he take it?"

"He's not here today, remember?"