“You went somewhere once.
It was all sand and sea and salt and wind and you were cold and you melted easier back then, and people could see you fucking melt and it was fine
Because you had the sea to sink in when things got bad.
Then salt turned to corn and cows and home was a melted thing.
Burned up and forgotten, because you don't fucking melt.
No one knows you're made of wax looking for wax figures just like you.”
Johnny’s steadier now as he reads. He’s not trembling like before. But he’s gripping so tight, Connor wonders if the paper will tear. He reads each word with purpose, with clarity. Connor’s got nothing on him, because Johnny’s feels like a story.
“Then you find one.”
Johnny’s looking at him again. Connor wants to go up and kiss him. Doesn’t know if he’s allowed to want that yet for how much he does.
“One that looks at you like they know, and don't even care.
Like melting isn't so bad when they've been melting since before you got here.
It's a burning fire, meeting in the funhouse.
Looking at you is like seeing home for the first time.
Because you look like salt and sand and seawater and you look like wax too, but you're made of fire.”
Connor knows. He knows then. The scar hidden along his hairline itches and burns and he wants Johnny back on his bed, safe in his arms, where they can laugh and argue about school and music, and smoke and, and, and—
“You don't even know it.”
With Johnny still looking at him, like he’s had these words memorized for days, maybe weeks, Connor thinks he does know. Feels it flare up hot and chaotic inside him. He’s been wrong this whole time to doubt.
“It's like melting, looking at you
Feels like being real in a melting life
Knowing you're around.
Knowing you're a bad idea but unable to help myself.
Because being seen hasn't happened since the sea, doesn't happen anymore unless it's on the floor being hurt and worse and it's all funhouse funny because
You don't know the way you hold home in your eyes.
And I miss you without knowing why.”
Johnny’s eyes finally lower back to the paper. His fingers twitch once, and he sniffs.
“And it's a funhouse mirror
Knowing it's all wax and jokes
And regretful years.
You can't know I'm made of wax.
So home is nowhere, like it's always been.
It can't be you even though it is.
Because you've never seen the sea.
And you don't know what it is to melt
Like me.”
The room is silent.
Johnny’s still standing up there, not looking at anyone. Not even Rigglesworth seems to have the words.
Connor fights down the very unbecoming blubber he wants to let loose and claps. It gets Johnny’s eyes back on him, and he laughs a little watery. He waves his paper at him, rolling his eyes.
He hands his paper in. Goes to sit down.
Connor sees his eyes are red rimmed, like he’d been holding back tears.
Reading his own after that is a breeze.
Rigglesworth pulls Johnny aside after class to talk.
From what Connor spies through the window in the door, it’s more a heart to heart, because she’s sniffling and Johnny is handing her a tissue and Connor has never related more to a middle aged woman in his entire life.
When Johnny finally opens the door, Connor pulls him away. Gets his hand around Johnny’s wrist and hustles to the nearest empty classroom he can find, ignoring the affronted protests pouring in from the peanut gallery behind him.
He gets Johnny in the science lab, shoves him inside, drops his bag, and flips the lock.
When he turns on Johnny, he’s looking startled, eyes wide.
Connor corners him against the chalkboard, boxes him in against the wall. Breathes in Johnny’s air and makes him lean into a kiss that isn’t quite there just yet.
“Poetry get you hot and bothered?” Johnny asks, and his voice sounds rough.
“Are you all right?” Connor asks instead, nosing gentle at his cheek.
Johnny sighs. His hands find their way to Connor’s chest. “Better now. Didn’t—wasn’t expecting that today. Didn’t know how you’d react.”
“That’s why you never let me read more?”
Johnny nods, wordless. He sniffs and leans forward until he’s hiding his face along Connor’s neck. Connor wraps his arms around Johnny’s shoulders.
“Too much?”
Johnny sounds embarrassed. Connor shushes him and holds him tighter. Wants to say something that’s definitely too much.
Instead he nuzzles Johnny’s temple. Presses a kiss to his hair and revels in the way Johnny melts into his hold.
“You wanna skip and go grab food at the diner? Spend the rest of the day together? I want you to stay over."
Johnny laughs, watery and shaking.
"I want you to stay,” Connor murmurs. "Johnny. Stay with me.
Johnny shudders against him. Pulls back and nods and Connor kisses away at his wet cheeks. Kisses him on the mouth.
“Your car or mine?” Johnny asks.
Connor grins and pulls Johnny after him.
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Books By This Author
Deep Black Wild
Vanished Things
You've Never Seen the Sea Page 8