Death Is Strange

ONE

The winding, stone-riddled road was empty, apart from two dark-haired teens. A cold wind had kicked up as the sun set, and shadows from the surrounding trees stretched grotesquely as the moon rose.

"Almost there. You're going to love it. I feel like nobody knows it's there." Bert pushed his long, wavy black hair back from his stubbly face, revealing his boyish grin. "There's so much cool stuff. Maybe it'll inspire you, Gerard. You can draw about it."

His companion was taller by a couple inches, his black hair falling to his shoulders, the roots dyed turquoise. He tugged at the neck of his Misfits t-shirt, brow creasing in thought. "I draw comics, baby. Not trash dumps."

Bert smirked, reaching to tuck a stray lock of hair behind Gerard's ear. "Just wait. I already know what you'll say."

"What? That it's fucking cold and we didn't have to go all the way to the dump to make out?" Gerard's hand found Bert's, their fingers twining as Bert led him off the edge of the road, to a gravel lot.

"It's right over here. Isn't it great?"

Gerard squinted through the thickening dusk, and then his expression relaxed. "Not bad. What kind of cool shit do you find around here?"

"I found a gun once. Lots of half-empty beer bottles. I set up a shooting range but then when the bullets started ricocheting I quit."

Gerard nodded slowly. "Do you have a flashlight?"

Bert dug into his pocket. "Nope. But I've got a lighter."

"I'm guessing you didn't plan for the sun to set."

"Fuck off." Bert slapped the lighter into Gerard's waiting palm and then fisted his hand in his hair, pulling Gerard's mouth to his own.

"Mm." Gerard fumbled with his pocket, putting the lighter away, his hands settling on Bert's shoulders, sliding down to his chest. The night air was growing colder, but Bert's lips and tongue were warm against his. Gerard's hands moved lower.

Bert slowly pulled away. "We should head back. I'm a fucking senior and I still don't know the curfew."

"Isn't it eleven for juniors and seniors? If it is, we're safe," Gerard mumbled, fingers still tangled with Bert's belt.

"Yes. I mean, I don't know. Get the lighter."

Gerard got it back out, handing it over. "I've got mine too. I didn't think about it until now. What are we trying to see?"

"There's a shack nearby. It's kind of my safe place. I put the stuff I collect in there. Don't judge. You know I hate my life. Gotta cope somehow," Bert rambled. "It's right around the corner, next to the old car..."

The gravel crunched beneath their shoes, and Bert ran a hand along the side of the half-crushed Buick, before clicking the lighter to life, revealing the half-unhinged door of a small building.

"Welcome to paradise." Bert smiled slyly and reached into the corner, turning on a lantern. "See? No need for flashlights now."

"Sneaky son of a bitch, is that mood lighting?" Gerard bared his small teeth in a devilish grin.

"You think there's room?" Bert whispered.

"Move that box on the left and there will be."

Bert quickly pushed the crate of empty bottles out the door, and pulled the crooked door shut as far as he could.

"Did you fucking plan this?" Gerard hissed.

"Nope, an opportunity simply presented itself." Bert couldn't stop smiling as he pushed Gerard up against the dilapidated wall, kissing him hard. "Damn. I love you, Gee," he whispered, planting kisses along Gerard's jaw, down his neck.

"Bert... you sly motherfucker," muttered Gerard when Bert pulled away and looked at him, eyes glinting impishly in the lantern light. "I love you too, baby." Gerard's fingers wrapped around the hem of Bert's shirt, yanking it over his head.

When Bert tugged up Gerard's shirt, Gerard inhaled sharply.

Bert let his eyes drift shut, leaning his head against Gerard's collarbone. "Gerard, you're beautiful. You're flawless. Don't even start to worry." This happened every time. Gerard's body issues seemed to surface the farther they got.

"It's stupid, I'm sorry..." Gerard stammered.

"No it's not. And the only thing I'm sorry about is that I'm not kissing you right now." Bert slipped his hand under Gerard's shirt, feeling his tense abdomen. "Can you do it?"

"I want to keep my shirt," Gerard said hoarsely, but he was already undoing his belt. He had broken into a sweat, gluing his shirt to him.

"I didn't bring anything. It'll hurt."

"I don't fucking care, Bert. I want you so bad," Gerard rasped. His belt hit the ground, his pants sliding down his legs as he clumsily pushed Bert's jeans down.

Bert looked at him in the hazy light, half a smile curving his lips.

"Next time I'll finally do it, Bert. The shirt comes off," Gerard whispered, melding his mouth with Bert's.

Bert closed his eyes. Gerard said that every time.

The lantern's battery was dying. Shadows engulfed the walls as Gerard curled against Bert, still shaking slightly, their bare legs tangled together. Gerard laid his hand on Bert's naked chest, feeling his racing heart. "How long has it been, baby? A year tomorrow, right?"

"Since what?" Bert took a shaky breath, and exhaled slowly.

"Since I met you."

"It'll be a year tomorrow." Bert closed his eyes, losing himself in the memory.

"We should celebrate."

"I think we just did, Gee."

"No. I mean, we should do something crazy. We should run away. I'm done with these music classes. We're both so good. We should start a band."

Bert laughed tremulously. "No. We should head to Hollywood. Just fuck around and stalk celebrities. Sneak into clubs."

Gerard was quiet for a moment, running the tips of his fingers down Bert's spine. "I don't really care what we do. I just want to be with you. You... make me not worry about... stuff."

Bert swallowed hard. His mouth still tasted of Gerard. Gerard, the quiet, reserved boy who would sit in the back of class and draw skulls and women in tattered dresses and gas masks. Gerard had changed so much. Even his depression had lifted a lot as time wore on. He wasn't gagging himself after he ate. The cuts on his arms had faded to scars.

But he still couldn't see how perfect he was.

"Gerard, we have all the time in the world. We've just gotta finish classes and we're done. If we don't run away, I mean. Right? We're both young."

Gerard nodded against Bert's chest. "I have a dumb idea. Let's stay here tonight."

"I like your dumb idea. But it's hella cold, so I'm putting my clothes back on." Bert untangled himself from Gerard and stood shakily, pulling his pants on.

The lantern was flickering now, almost dead. Bert's shadow danced wildly against the wall. He handed Gerard his jeans. "You're covered in goose bumps, man." Even with the t-shirt, he silently added.

By the time they lay down again, the planks of the floor uneven beneath them, the lantern had gone out, blanketing them in darkness marred only by the sliver of moonlight shining through the crooked door.

Bert propped himself up on his elbow, running the back of his hand softly across Gerard's cheek, his jaw, moving to tuck back his disheveled hair. Gerard practically glowed in the moonlight, his skin perfectly white, his hazel eyes glittering.

"Damn it Gerard, you're a fucking angel. I don't deserve this."

"That can be our band name," Gerard whispered. "The Fallen Angels."

Bert laughed, leaning forward to brush his lips against the tip of Gerard's nose. "If you want to, I'm all for it."

Gerard gazed up at the shadowy form of his boyfriend, fumbling for his hand in the darkness.

Not knowing this was the last time for everything.