Crane - Chapter 7 Posted

Later that night Seth came downstairs, while Zeke was laying on his bed reading. Zeke sighed in annoyance and set his book aside, then regarded his friend with distrusting eyes. “Can I help you?” he asked the nervous looking blond.

“I don’t want to fight with you.” Seth said, and Zeke just stared at him. “I get that what I said upset you-”

“Do you get it, or does Pearl get it?”

Seth shuffled his feet. “We talked about it.” he said, and Zeke snorted. “Look, I know I made you mad, but I don’t understand why.”

Zeke sighed. “Look, Seth, if you want to fix things between us, you’re going to have to learn to deal with what I am and how I feel, which in no way shape or form involves sex with you. It never has and it never will. You should’ve accepted me saying that and left it alone.”

Seth nodded his head. “Okay.”

Zeke frowned. “Okay?”

“Yea, okay. You’re right. I was a douche bag. I’m sorry.” Seth sat down on the bed and looked anxiously at Zeke. “I don’t know how to deal with this, though. You’re going to have to give me some time. Can you accept that, if I can accept your half of it?”

“I guess so.” Zeke said softly. “Time not talking, you mean.”

“Yea.” Seth sighed. “I’m still going to come see Pearl, but I won’t hang out and stuff. And I think I need some time away from you, to get this shit straightened out in my head.”

“It’s really that difficult to accept?”

Seth sighed. “Look, I always thought I’d… you know, be best man at your wedding and we’d have kids around the same age and shit. None of that’s going to happen now, and I have no idea how to even look at you anymore. This changes everything about you, and I’m not saying it’s wrong, or you’re wrong, I’m just saying I don’t know anymore.”

Zeke nodded. “Okay.”

“You’re not mad?”

“Of course I’m mad. I wanted you to say, ‘You’re gay, so what?’ and just move on, but you didn’t. Now you say these things that aren’t meant to hurt but hurt anyway, because you’re my best friend and you don’t even want to look at me. So yea, I’m mad. But I get it, and if you need time, then fine. I have no right to refuse you that.”

Seth nodded and stood up. “Thank you, Zeke.”

Zeke stood up to. “Just… do me a favor, okay?”

“What’s that?”

“Don’t fuck Pearl over. I mean, she’s my cousin. She’s not just some chick from school. She’s important.”

“I know.” Seth smiled. “I know better than you do, trust me.” he fidgeted for a moment, then put his hand on Zeke’s shoulder, surprising him. “I feel like such an asshole for doing this to you.”

“What?”

“Leaving you alone.”

Zeke bit down hard on the inside of his cheek, refusing to let himself burst into tears over this. “I’ll be fine.” he said, but Seth didn’t look like he believed that. “Just don’t take forever figuring it out, okay? I’m always going to be gay, so the faster you accept it, the faster we can stop being weird.”

Seth sighed. “I’m going to regret doing this.” he muttered, his fingers squeezing Zeke’s shoulder.

“Maybe.” Zeke shrugged. “If you do, just come back. We’ll figure it out.”

Seth nodded, then surprised the hell out of Zeke by pulling him into a stiff, uncomfortable hug. “I’m sorry.” Seth mumbled against the side of Zeke’s head, then let him go abruptly, turned, and went up the stairs before Zeke fully recovered his balance.

Not ten minutes later, Evangeline came downstairs. “Hey, sweetheart.” she greeted, coming to sit on his bed. “Can we talk?”

“Sure, Ma.”

She took a deep breath. “I’m taking the kids camping the day after tomorrow. We’re going to be gone for a few days. That means you and Crane and Pearl will be here alone.”

He winced. “Ma, I don’t think-”

“I promised them one more camping trip before school started, and it looks like I’m going to be really busy all next week, so it’s now or never. I know there’s a lot of tension going on around here lately, but I need you to promise me you guys will be good while we’re gone. You know the rules.”

“No sex, no drinking, no drugs, no animals, no cops, no clowns, no parties.” He rattled off, and she smiled.

“Make sure the other follow them, too, okay? I’ve already talked to them about it, but it’s your house, so…” she leaned over and kissed his forehead. “I’m leaving my bank card, in case you need anything.” Zeke smiled; she knew she could trust him with it, and he appreciated her treating him like an adult.

“So what’s the deal with you and Seth now?” she asked, and he explained it to her. She sighed and shook her head.

“That boy is dumber than a bag of hammers.” she muttered, and he laughed and nodded. “Well, I hope everything works out.” she smiled at him and went upstairs.

When she left, Zeke decided to just go to bed. He fell asleep almost instantly, and didn’t wake up until almost lunch the next day. He spent most of that day in his room; the rest of the family was packing, and he just wasn’t up for dealing with all the noise and confusion. He only saw Crane in passing, and when his cousin came downstairs that night, he put the dogs in their crates, showered, and went to bed without a word.

The day the family left, Zeke saw them off, then went inside and sorted through the DVDs until he found something worth watching. He laid in bed and watched through half of the second season of Supernatural, then took a nap.

When he woke up, Crane was sitting on the edge of his bed. For a second he thought he was still dreaming; the sex dreams about his cousin hadn’t gone away, so seeing Crane there bordered on surreal until his cousin said, “How can you sleep so much?”

Zeke rubbed his eyes and sat up. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“Sitting here. Waiting for you to wake up.” Crane pointed towards the ceiling. “Might not want to go up there, Seth’s here. Picking up Pearl for a date.” he sneered at this. “You’re really not talking to him anymore, huh?”

Zeke sighed. “Yea, I’m really not. It was his decision. I’m respecting it.” he studied Crane in profile. “Did you want something? It’s kind of creepy, you sitting here while I sleep.”

“I thought about waking you up.” he said quietly. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“Then why didn’t you wake me up?” he asked.

“Because you were already talking.” Crane told him, and finally turned to look at him.

Zeke thought about this for a while, but couldn’t come up with anything to say. “I’m going to take a shower.” he said, and Crane nodded. “When I’m done, we can talk, okay?”

“If you want.” Crane said, shrugging. “I don’t know what I was going to say.”

“Well, you can think about it while I’m busy.” he said, and got out of bed. “Crane?”

“Hmm?”

“Is this about what’s been bothering you lately?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” Zeke went to take a shower. He hurried through it, anxious to finally clear the air between him and Crane, as much as he could. He figured that whatever the hell was wrong with him shouldn’t reflect on how he treated Crane; it wasn’t his fault, and Zeke was starting to feel like a jackass over the whole thing. He knew that Crane wanting to talk about whatever it was that was bothering him meant that Crane trusted him, and he didn’t want to acknowledge how happy that really made him.

He got out of the shower, dried off and dressed quickly, and when he came back out Crane was sitting against the headboard of Zeke’s bed, staring up at the ceiling. He sat down on the other side of the bed, cross legged, and regarded his cousin carefully.

“Have you figured out what you wanted to say?” Zeke asked.

Crane seemed not to hear him at first. He just sat there, blinking idly up at the ceiling. Finally, though, he lowered his head and stared at Zeke, his eyes slightly narrowed. “Were you taught morals, Zeke?” he asked.

“I.. what?” Zeke frowned, his heart rate picking up. “What do you mean?”

“Are you set in your ideas about right and wrong?” Crane asked. “Can you acknowledge, perhaps even learn to accept, that your values and choices are not necessarily going to meet up with someone else’s?” he leaned forward a little. “Do you think that someone is capable of changing their own morals, of going against what they’ve been taught, simply to justify wanting something they can’t have?”

Oh, holy shit. He fucking knew. Zeke swallowed painfully, suddenly way too hot, way too anxious. He did not want to continue this conversation. But Crane was sitting there, watching him carefully, waiting for him to answer. He cleared his throat, searching for something to say. “I think wanting something you can’t have is part of being a human.” he said softly. “That the idea that something is forbidden to you sometimes makes it that much more appealing. But I don’t think that you should change your entire moral code just to get what you want. I think that’s disrespectful, to yourself and the people that raised you. I mean, they raised you a certain way for a reason. Wrong is wrong, and just because you want something doesn’t make it okay.”

Crane nodded, leaning back again. “What if it stops being wanting and starts being needing?” he asked.

Zeke frowned. “I don’t know.” he said honestly. “That’s different than just wanting. If it’s something like that, something you think you can’t live without, then maybe it’s worth changing that much of yourself.”

“What if the realization that you want that something makes you realize in turn that you had no morals to begin with?”

Zeke frowned. “What are we talking about, Crane?” he asked. “I thought I knew, but I’m confused now. I mean, I thought we were…” he stopped, biting his lip. “Crane-”

“I can’t stand it.” Crane told the ceiling, and Zeke stopped. “I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“About what?” Zeke asked.

Crane looked at him. “I know I’m supposed to be wrong, that I’m not supposed to want what I want. But it’s gotten to the point where I feel like if I don’t have it, I’m going to die. It hurts. It physically hurts me, and it’s not getting better. I don’t know what to do anymore. Tell me what to do.”

Zeke stared at his cousin, lost and confused and a little scared. “I can’t do that, Crane.” he said, and Crane looked hurt. “I can’t tell you what choices to make. If it’s as bas as you say, maybe you should just… I mean, what are we talking about here? If you need something that bad, and you say it’s not your moral code holding you back, then what?”

“It’s not my moral code, it’s everyone else’s.” Crane told him.

“You’re worried about what people will think.” Crane nodded. “I can relate to that.”

“This isn’t something like being gay, Zeke. I mean, that thing only matters to close minded idiots.”

“I can respect that they’re not on the same level, and I’m not talking about being gay. I get it, I really do.” he stopped, way too close to blurting out the wrong thing. Still, he wanted to make Crane feel better, wanted to tell him something that would help. “Do you want my honest opinion?”

“Yes.”

Zeke nodded, and thought through what he wanted to say. When he spoke, he spoke to his hands. “If I had enough backbone to get over what I’ve been taught, to say fuck it to everything I was informed was right and wrong, I wouldn’t let something like what other people think get in the way. If you simply want something for the sake of wanting it, I don’t think it’s worth risking the hurt you’d put people through, but if it’s big enough, or important enough, to make you feel like you need it, then there’s no point in putting yourself through that.” he looked up, and Crane was looking at him, his face unreadable. “So if you claim you have no morals, and you need something you think other people will condemn you for needing, then maybe you just don’t need those people who are willing to do all that condemning.”

Crane shook his head. “You’re serious, aren’t you?” he asked quietly.

Zeke nodded and went back to looking at his hands. “I mean, sometimes I wish I didn’t have to worry about what other people thought. I guess that might sound selfish, but for someone like me, who’s never bothered to go after what he wants, a little selfishness seems… almost entitled. Unfortunately, I’m a coward.” Zeke sighed. “Projection’s an ugly thing. I’m sorry I called you that, by the way.”

Crane didn’t say anything. After a little while, Zeke went on. “If the people you love can’t accept you, even if they don’t agree with you, then they don’t love you. I’m figuring that out, slowly. So if it’s important enough, just do it. Fuck it, you know? It’s corny, but life’s short.”

“Yea, it is.” Crane sighed. “Zeke?”

“What?” Zeke looked up, and Crane was way too close. His nose was barely an inch away from Zeke’s, and immediately Zeke felt that double edged knife twisting in his stomach; insant, painful arousal and that hot, awful shame. “Crane, what are you doing?” he asked, his voice barely coming out at all.

“Trying to take your advice.” Crane said, and Zeke felt his hand slide up his arm, along his neck, and into the hair and the back of his head. “Your morals are in my way.”

Zeke licked his lips nervously, completely unable to move; he wanted to run, to get the hell away from his cousin as fast as he possibly could. At the same time, he wanted to close that gap and find out the exact taste and texture of Crane’s mouth. “I don’t understand. What-” And then realization hit him like a ton of bricks, and suddenly he couldn’t breathe.

Crane’s other hand came up, and Zeke felt his head being cradled in those smooth, cool hands. Crane’s eyes searched his face, but Zeke didn’t know what he was looking for. “You get it, don’t you?” he asked softly, his breath warm against Zeke’s face. “You understand?”

Zeke felt like he was going to explode. He didn’t know what to do. What was he supposed to do? He opened his mouth, at a total loss as to what he was about to say. “So take my advice already.”

Crane looked surprised, but it wasn’t half as shocked as Zeke himself was. Did he really just say that? He closed his eyes and wished himself somewhere, anywhere else. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He wasn’t supposed to want this. But being in the position he was, that shameful ache in his stomach was very, very quickly overwhelmed by the other side of the knife.

“Zeke, look at me.” Crane said, and he made himself open his eyes. “It wasn’t just me, was it?” he asked, then sighed and rested their foreheads together. “Please tell me it’s not just me.”

Zeke searched himself, looking for something to make himself pull away, to make himself stop. He found those morals Crane kept talking about, but he knew that he could either take his own advice or become the biggest hypocrite on the planet. Still, did he really want to go this far? To let it become more than fuzzy dreams and uncomfortable moments between them?

“Zeke.” Crane said his name, and it sounded like half a command and half a plea.

“You know we’re going to go to Hell, right?” he asked gently.

Crane pulled back half an inch to look at him. “You know there’s a million alternative afterlives.” he said, and then his mouth was on Zeke’s, and the dark haired boy felt like everything had just burst into flame. Crane’s hands cradled his head, tilting it back to the angle he wanted, his thumb brushing along Zeke’s chin, putting pressure there until Zeke opened his mouth. And then Crane’s tongue was there, stroking, and the taste and feel of it brought a desperate, wild sound out of Zeke’s chest. He leaned forward, bracing his weight with one hand on the top of Crane’s thigh, the other clutching desperately to the front of Crane’s shirt.

Crane kissed him like it was the last kiss he’d ever get; so hard it almost hurt, his tongue plunging deeply into Zeke’s mouth, his fingers clutched tightly in his hair while his other hand held onto Zeke’s jaw. Zeke couldn’t do anything other than try to keep up; he’d never felt this entirely out of control before; it was very obvious he’d started something that Crane intended to finish.

Finally, Zeke had to stop it; he needed air. He had to fight his mouth away from Crane’s, who made a low, urgent growling sound and nipped at his bottom lip just as he pulled back. Gasping, his mouth swollen, Zeke let his head loll back a little, supported by Crane’s hands. Crane was panting harshly, and he pressed his face against the column of Zeke’s neck and pulled in a deep, shaking breath.

“Holy shit.” Crane mumbled against his throat, making Zeke shudder. He lifted his head, at the same time, pulling Zeke’s forward so there foreheads were touching again. He slid his thumb against the tiny cut he’d opened with his teeth at the center of Zeke’s lip. “I’m sorry.” he whispered, still breathing heavily.

Zeke closed his eyes. The little sting didn’t bother him; but the complete and total lack of guilt he felt did. He gently pulled himself away from Crane’s hands and laid back on the bed, pressing the palm of one hand against his forehead.

“Zeke.” Crane shifted his weight, moving closer. “You’re killing me here. Say something.”

Zeke laughed helplessly, a breathy, tiny sound that died quickly. “Why don’t I feel bad?” he asked. “Aren’t I supposed to be all guilt stricken and horrified?” he looked at Crane. “What the hell is wrong with us?”

Crane laid down beside him, on his stomach, propped up on his elbows. “Does it matter?” he asked. “You’re telling me you feel bad because you don’t feel bad?”

“That sounds so stupid.” Zeke muttered, and pressed his hands against his eyes. “Goddamnit.” Crane took him by the wrists and pulled his hands away from his face. “I don’t understand.”

“Then forget about it.” Crane suggested. “You don’t feel bad.”

“But I should.”

“But you don’t.” Crane reached up and traced the line of Zeke’s jaw with the tip of his finger. “So stop thinking about it. Come here.”

Zeke leaned up, letting Crane kiss him again, but this was slower, gentler, as if Crane was now exploring rather than trying to conquer. It felt just as wonderful, though, the same heat, the same lightheaded near hysteria. Zeke wound his arms around Crane’s neck, and a moment later felt Crane shift, his weight settling half on top of Zeke, their legs tangling together.

Crane broke the kiss, his mouth moving down to the sensitive spot where his neck met his shoulder, and ran his tongue along the skin there, then bit down gently. At the same time his teeth met Zeke’s skin he pushed his hand under Zeke’s shirt, splaying his fingers across his stomach. Zeke gasped and jerked against the touch, grabbing handfuls of the back of Crane’s shirt as teeth and tongue attacked his neck. Crane pressed his hips down, and Zeke’s eyes snapped open.

He hadn’t exactly forgotten how big Crane had looked, but having that thing grinding against his thigh made it seem absolutely enormous. At the same time, the knowledge that it was because of him that Crane was that hard made him feel… well, it made him feel fucking awesome.

Crane lifted his head, swiping his tongue along Zeke’s bottom lip before sitting back a little, looking flushed and anxious. “We need to stop now.” he whispered hoarsely, and Zeke glanced down at his own chest; it felt like it’d just caved in. He studied Crane, who must’ve sensed what he was thinking, because he shook his head and looked annoyed. “I didn’t have a sudden attack of conscience, Zeke, stop looking at me like that.”

“Then what-”

“Were you planning on losing your virginity today?” Crane asked him, and Zeke’s face flamed. “Didn’t think so.” Crane half smiled and kissed the tip of Zeke’s nose. “Just… give me a minute, okay?” he asked before shifting away and sitting on the edge of the bed. “Holy fuck.” he muttered.

Zeke sat up and ran his hands through his hair, then scooted over and rested his cheek against the hard plane of Crane’s back. “What are we going to do?” he asked quietly, closing his eyes. Crane reached behind him and took Zeke’s hands, pulling his arms around his own waist and lacing their fingers together.

“Would like my knee jerk answer or the serious answer?” Crane asked.

“Both?”

“Serious answer is figure out what we’re doing and decide if we want to keep doing it.”

“Okay.” Zeke nodded against his back. “Knee jerk?”

“Knee jerk answer is to sound proof the basement, nail the door shut, tie you to your headboard, and then fuck you for the next three days straight.” Crane said, quieter this time.

Zeke pressed closer against Crane and leaned up to rest his chin on Crane’s shoulder. “Yea, we’re definitely going to Hell.”