AGALMATOPHILIA

_-:18:-_

The boy with the raven hair and sparkling caramel eyes leant his body weight against an old broken down fence.

Sweat glistened from his skin, the bright sun beating down against such pale flesh, a soft tan brought out the freckles across his shoulders.

Brendon wipes the waterfall of perspiration from his forehead, pulling the cigarette from his lips as he does.

At sixteen, he was now required to do a lot more around his fathers farm.

Other than going out and shooting and skinning the wild pig, the teen was made to repair fences and feed the animals by himself.

The crunch of tires pulling up the lengthy driveway snap Brendon's short attention towards it.

A black beetle rolls up and stops just in front of Brendon, the window down.

A lady leans out with a wide beam stretched upon her face.

"Hello there, you wouldn't happen to live here huh?"

Brendon raises his brows for a moment, glancing towards his home not too far in the distance.

"Unfortunately, why? Who wants to know?" Glancing back to the strange woman, Brendon folds his arms tightly across his chest.

"My son and I, we sell cosmetics, I was wondering if your mother would like some?"

Brendon leans forward, hocking a loogie towards the dry caked dirt road.

"Ain't got no mother miss, just me and my dad," gritting his teeth he spits the words out.

The lady nods, mumbling an apology. As she leans back slightly in her car, Brendon catches sight of the tall, set jawed boy in the passenger seat.

His obsidian locks fall over his forehead and sip down below his brow.

He doesn't notice Brendon at first, but as if time slows down, the strange man looks up at the raven haired teenager.

Their eyes connect for a moment, Brendon taking a slow drag from his cigarette, something inside his chest thumps and loudly.

"If you wanna talk to him, he's at the house," Brendon gives a quick nod towards the house. "Excuse me, this fence work fix itself,"

As he hitches his pants and turns back to the fence, he steals another peep at the boy in the front seat.

He's watching carefully, before he gives a small, shy smile.

Brendon scowls back at him, hands wrapping tightly around a length of barbed wire.

Whatever twinge he had just felt he would bury, putting it down to nerves of talking to the stranger.

He pulls it back to make it taught, fastening it around the next fence post.

He continues down his driveway, stopping for a brief moment as footsteps approach.

"Hey,"

Brendon lifts his head, squatting down next a roll of wire and a pair of pliers.

Removing the huge spike proof gloves, Brendon stands and eyes the boy up and down.

"Saw you working before, thought it looked kinda fun," the other kid shrugs for a moment, but with a smile upon his lips.

"Yeah? You think this is fun?" Brendon gestures to the broken fence with his gloves, the other kid shrugs for a moment, stepping forward slightly.

"I work with makeup, never really done much physical work,"

"And how old are you exactly?" He scoffs.