LOVE is DEAD [RARL]

11

Mouthing the foreign tongue made Carl feel electric. His fingers twisted in the thin t-shirt as the party's music pulsed behind his temples. The boy he was mouth-fucking shuttered with pleasure, eyes shut tight.

It was obviously Benji's first time with a boy, but from the tension in his arms and the eagerness he kissed Carl back with, Carl could tell it wouldn't be the last. The Grime's boy was growing to love guys with flexible standards.

"Wow," Benjamin shuttered as Carl's hands  slipped under his shirt, splaying over the skin there. "W-wow, you're-"

"Amazing," Carl finished. "You've said, like, seven times now."

Their lips locked again, and Carl's jaw was starting to ache from all the movement, yet still, he wasn't nearly as excited as his partner; his mind was wandering to the onlooking blond.

Across the living room, Ron sat alone, drink in hand, not willing to approach Carl after he'd caught sight of his busy lips and wandering hands.

He just remained silent and still.

At first, the shouting blended in with he music, chatter, and sounds of hot breaths on his neck, but then, when the song ended and the void of silence between songs was loudest, Carl heard it.

"Call 911!"

People in the kitchen were in a flurry of panic, and most people were booking it out of every exit, but some were gathered around a girl who's limbs were spread out on the tile floor, eyes twitching violently behind closed lids. In front of her was the table where people had been doing lines.

"What happened?"

"Shit, fuck, she just collapsed!"

"We gotta go," someone hissed in Carl's ear, and Ron yanked him along towards the back door while Ben was distracted.

...

They were a block away before sirens started up, silent in their journey, fighting to walk a straight line on the pavement.

"I hope..." Carl stuttered out, attempting not to slur his words. "I hope they got to her... in time."

"You said you weren't drinking, you said your dad-" Ron began, words equally as muddled.

Carl cut him off, shaking his head with anger. "Fuck him, fuck what he says, I'm not doin' it anymore..."

Carl's sneakers scraped the pave as they walked, his gate a little lighter compared to Ron's boots.

"Was your dad on duty tonight?"

"No," Carl mumbled, eyes downcasts. "Otherwise I wouldn't have gone."

The sirens were loud, but not loud enough for it to mean the ambulance or police were headed their way. Unfortunately, that meant that they'd have to take the long way to their houses, to avoid being seen by anyone who knew Carl's dad well enough to tip him off.

"Who..." Ron began, sandpaper tongue dragging across his lips as he searched for the words. "Who was that boy you were with?"

"Does it matter? It was jus' for fun," Carl spat back, carding his fingers through his sweaty hair.

Ron laughed after a long pause, almost hysterically.

"What?" Carl asked, and when he got more laughter as a reply, he shouted. "What?!"

"N-nothin', it's jus' that, ya'know, you were yellin' at me 'cause we were fucking just for fun, and now you are jockin' on a stranger. For fun."

Carl spun around the best he could without staggering, and gave Ron a half hearted push.
Ron laughed more,pushing Carl back just as weakly.

"You're stupid," Carl slurred.

" 'An you're dumb."