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Goth sighed and took a seat in the waiting room, looking down with a forlorn expression at his beloved red Bacchus bass guitar. He always took such immaculate care of it, how did he manage to break one of the tuning pegs? He felt like he could cry.
It’d be fine, though, he reassured himself. He was at a repair shop for this, he was getting it taken care of. The bass would be okay, he told himself. It’d be okay.
He sighed again and looked for something to distract himself with. The waiting room was painfully quiet and empty—
Until he looked to his left and saw a man sitting beside him. Legs spread, a black guitar in his lap, staring off into space, a cigarette between his lips. Goth stared at the man for awhile, taking in his appearance. He quite liked his attire, he noted. His fashion sense was similar to his own. He glanced down at his hand, with black fingernails softly drumming on the arm of the chair, and studied the rings on all of his fingers. He looked back at his face, and he found the dark, dripping makeup on his face eye-catching, and a little intimidating. Goth’s social anxiety certainly didn’t help with that.
But he was absolutely desperate to occupy his mind. If he didn’t, he was worried he would cry.
“U-um…good afternoon,” he stammered. “Is…that an ESP Horizon-III?”
The other man turned his head to look at him slowly. He said nothing and just stared at him, giving him a cold look with furrowed brows.
“Th-that’s…a pretty good guitar,” Goth continued desperately. “What do you like to play on it…? I…I like to play the bass myself. Rock music is fun…”
The other man continued to stare at him. “Whatever I feel like,” he responded, tone just as cold as his face.
Goth’s heart throbbed, and he got even more nervous. This man clearly did not want to talk to him, why was he persisting? Nevertheless, he persisted. “O-oh, you…you can play all sorts of stuff? That’s cool. Um…what’s your favorite kind of music?”
“Metal.”
“Oh, metal is good…I like metal, too. You…your clothes are really cool. I…I like all the spikes.”
Goth put his arm up on his armrest to show his own spiky arm cuff, as if to display a sort of solidarity.
“I…like your outfit,” he said again.
The other man looked away from him slowly at that, and looked down at the ground. Goth couldn’t tell if that meant he liked what he said, or if he hated what he said.
“I’ll bet it…takes awhile to get all that on…I know that feeling…it…takes me awhile to get ready every day…gotta do my hair…all the layers…b-but it's worth it in the end.”
The other man turned slowly to look back at Goth at those words. “...it is worth it,” he said.
Goth felt a semblance of relief at that response. He felt like he had made a sense of connection with this strange, intimidating man. “S-so…what happened to your ESP?”
The man glanced down at the guitar in his lap, then looked back at Goth. “...tuning peg broke,” he answered.
“H-hey, that's what happened to my bass, too,” Goth said a bit too excitedly. He cleared his throat and his eyes darted around. “U-um…I would love to hear you play one day…”
The man cocked an eyebrow at Goth. “Oh really?”
“Y-yes!” Goth insisted. “I would…love to hear you play guitar. I'll bet you're really good…I think it’d be fun. Maybe…I can play my bass for you, too.”
The man stared at Goth for awhile, as if he was studying him, and considering it, until eventually he said, “Alright. Sure.”
Goth's expression changed drastically at that. His social awkwardness didn't overcome him and he actually succeeded in landing a hangout with another person? He could jump for joy.
But he didn't, since he didn't want to look weird.
“O-okay! Sounds good!” he exclaimed. “When…are you free?”
“Saturday.”
“O-okay, that works for me! How about…2:00 o’clock? Where do you wanna play?”
“There's a music store nearby that lets customers play the instruments. Drive straight from here for two miles and then it's on the left.”
“O-okay! We can go there! That sounds fun. I'll…see you then?”
The other man nodded, then turned to face forward again.
“I-I’m…Gothamine Len, by the way,” Goth said. “Y-you can just call me Goth, though. And you…?”
A person emerged from behind a door and called out—
“Alright, who's next? Uh…Emo?”
The man stood up and lifted his black guitar. “That's me.”
Goth looked up at him. “Emo?” he echoed.
“Yep. See you,” he said, and he turned to face the door, and walked behind it.
Goth watched him leave, and let out a sigh. He couldn't believe he managed to do that. He couldn't believe he managed to score a date.
Date?
Hangout?
He had no idea what it was. But he knew he accomplished a social interaction. And that was what mattered.
Even if he didn't get the other man's number. He decided to go against his instincts and trust that he would be there.
He would be there.
Right?
Goth showed up at the music store that the other man—Emo, was it?—told him about, and started to wander.
“Welcome in!” the shopkeeper said. “Looking for anything today?”
“A-ah! Um…hello!” Goth stuttered. “J-just wanted to test some instruments…”
“Alright. Well let me know if you need any help.”
Goth nodded meekly and speed-walked away from the shopkeep, not at all prepared to interact with anyone other than the man he came here to see.
He started to wander deeper into the store, looking around at all the various guitars, and eventually got distracted from them and started to look for Emo. He hoped he would show up. He hoped he wasn't tricked again—
“You actually showed up?”
Goth yelped and jumped in the air, not expecting to hear a voice behind him. He turned around, and saw Emo standing there before him. “Y-you scared me!”
“Damn, I didn't even do anything. Well, calm down. Are we gonna do some music shit or what?”
Goth took some deep breaths, caught off guard and still a bit high-strung from getting startled. Eventually, though, he was able to say, “R-right. Um…”
Goth looked around, desperate to find something to start with, when he saw a bass identical to his own. He flocked over to it excitedly.
“Ah! This one is just like mine!” he proclaimed. “I play a Bacchus. A Bacchus WL4-STD RSM Red-S 4-string bass. I've…had it for many years. Been playing since I was 14. I…like to think I've gotten pretty good.”
Goth took the bass off the wall. He put the strap over his shoulder and looked down at it.
“Ah…I’ve missed this. My bass is still at the repair shop…I can't wait for it to be fixed and I can play it again. I love my bass…”
Goth plucked a string.
“Ah, I normally like to play without the strap. It gives me more freedom to move. Allows me to hold tighter onto the guitar. Really lets me…kinda just submit myself to the music. It's been awhile since I've put a guitar strap on. Feels odd…heh. I don't mind it, though.”
Goth twisted a tuning peg.
“The Bacchus is so nice. It has such a nice sound and fits so comfortably in my hands…I really really love how it sounds…it’s got such a nice, warm sound. It sounds pretty good not plugged into an amp, but ohh, when you do, it's like heaven…”
Goth looked up at Emo, who was staring at him, hands in his pockets.
“A-ah, sorry, I'm rambling,” Goth stuttered, blushing a little. “S-so…what instruments do you play? Other than guitar, that is…”
“...everything,” Emo answered.
Goth's eyes widened. “Everything?” he echoed. “D-do you…have any favorites to play?”
“...keytar.”
“Ohh, that's cool…keytars are cool. I like keytars. I always wanted to learn how to play one…”
The two men stared at each other in silence for a while.
“That’s so cool that you can play everything…wow…can you show me?”
Emo shrugged and walked over to the wall, taking a guitar off the wall. He put the strap over his shoulder and plucked at the strings. He found a cup of guitar picks, and picked one up. He did a test strum, then started playing the unplugged electric guitar.
Goth's eyes sparkled, and he sat down in a chair. He rested the Bacchus in his lap, then rested his head in his hands, watching the man shred the guitar, making it sound powerful despite not being plugged in. He was immensely impressed.
Emo stopped playing, and upon concluding, Goth began to applaud.
“Wow…” he said. “That was amazing! You're so good! Man, I'm so impressed…you made it sound so good! And it's not even plugged in!”
Emo stared at Goth for awhile, studying his amazement and cheers. The man seemed rather genuine, he thought. Intrigued by this, Emo hung the guitar back up, and silently walked over to the wall of bass guitars, and began to play one of those for Goth, too.
Just like before, Goth clapped and cheered. His eyes lit up brighter as he watched Emo play the bass just as expertly as he played the guitar. “That’s amazing!” Goth proclaimed. “My goodness, you’re so talented…that’s so cool! You’re so cool!”
Goth’s saccharine words embarrassed Emo a bit, and he quickly turned away to avoid eye contact. He hung up the bass back on the wall. Was he feeling…good about himself? That was very new. Someone else was showing what appeared to be genuine interest in him? That was even newer.
Emo found he liked the feeling. So he decided to continue riding it.
He began walking towards another area, making a motion for Goth to follow. Intrigued, Goth rose to his feet and held onto the bass in his lap, following behind him. “Where are we going? Can I play for you, too?”
“Later,” Emo replied, and he stopped once they reached a section of the store with different instruments. There was a drum set in the middle of the room, and he took a seat at it. He began to play the drums, his performance fast and done expertly.
Goth watched Emo drum fast and fluid, as if he had been doing it for years—which he very likely had been. He clapped again, cheering and showering Emo in praise.
Emo felt his embarrassment rise a little as the man before him applauded and complimented him profusely. He was not at all used to this feeling at all. But he found he liked it.
The pattern continued for a while. Emo proceeded to find a new instrument, played it expertly, and Goth clapped for him as if he were his favorite musician live on stage. Emo found he quite enjoyed the little ego boost it gave him. After spending so long putting on a performance, though, he found he was now a bit too embarrassed to go on. “Okay, your turn,” he said, ready for the attention to no longer be on him.
“O-oh, my turn?” Goth stammered, not expecting the spotlight to be put on him. “Um, okay…lemme find an amp.”
Goth looked around the room, and eventually found an amp tucked into a corner. He found some cables and wires to plug the Bacchus into the amp and then the amp into the wall. He took in a deep breath, suddenly very anxious to play for someone else. But he tried to remind himself that he could do this. If Emo could play several different instruments for him, he could play one bass guitar for Emo.
Goth exhaled, then raised his pick hand, then began playing. His expression very quickly changed from a nervous and anxious look, to a confident and immersed look. It was as if he had been taken over by the Bacchus, strumming fast and skillfully.
Emo watched him, and threw up his eyebrows ever so slightly. He’s pretty good at that, he thought. But more importantly, he was focused on Goth’s face and how immersed and into his playing he got. The man looked as if he was almost possessed by the instrument. His demeanor was completely different than before. Went from a meek, shy, quiet guy to a powerful, fierce, confident man. He very obviously cared deeply for the bass and for music, and had great passion. Maybe as much as Emo did?
Emo found that admirable.
Goth finished his short song, lifting his pick arm into the air again to conclude, and he let out a heavy exhale. He was sweating a bit, having really gotten into his playing.
“You’re good at that,” Emo said flatly once the bass had finished ringing out.
Goth panted for a moment, taking a minute to process Emo’s words, still in a bit of a haze from rocking out. Once he did process it, however, he blushed, face as well as his shoulders turning red. “O-oh…thank you,” he stammered.
Emo stared at the man turning red before him, and it gave him an unfamiliar feeling. He tucked it away for now, though, and shook his head.
Goth didn’t seem to notice, as he took this moment of silence to catch his breath. Once he finally did, he looked up at Emo. “S-so…” he murmured, “you said the keytar was your favorite, but…I didn’t get to see you play one. Can I…see you play one?”
Emo kept staring at Goth at that question, debating that heavily. Would he really let this man he barely knows come in close proximity to his beloved keytar? Was it really worth the risk?
Well, this man was clearly very passionate about music. One could not fake that intense, almost possessed look that Goth appeared to take on when he played. Especially not someone seemingly as docile and sensitive as Goth was. Besides, a warning would surely shut down any potential thoughts he would have about daring to touch such a prized possession of Emo’s.
“Fine,” he said.
“So this is your room?”
Goth sat on the foot of the unmade bed and slowly kicked his feet back and forth as he watched Emo rummage through some boxes. The room was quite messy and unkempt. Goth couldn’t judge about that, nor would he; he wasn’t the judgemental type, plus his room was pretty unmade, as well. The room also reeked of cigarettes. That was something Goth related to much less, but he said nothing of it.
Goth was met with no response; then again, he didn’t really expect one. He sat there in silence, no idea on what else to say, as he continued to watch Emo dig through things. He must either not play this keytar much, or keep it very protected, Goth thought.
Emo rose to his feet, holding a case in his arms. He placed it on the bed beside Goth. But before he opened it, he rested his hands on top and turned to look at Goth. “You can look at it,” he said, “but if you touch it, I will fucking murder you.”
Goth flinched at such harsh words, and he felt his blood run cold. He lifted his hands up defensively and started to sputter. “Wh-wh-wh…I wasn’t gonna touch it, I swear! I had no plans on it! It’s your instrument! I have no right to touch it!”
“Mkay. Just putting it out there,” Emo replied, looking away from Goth and opening the case, and he pulled out the keytar, showing it to Goth. It was covered all over in stickers. Some looked fresh, some were fading and falling apart. It was clearly very well-loved and well-kept. Unlike everything else in that room, including the man to whom it belonged.
Goth was shaking a little, still disturbed by Emo’s off-the-cuff comment. This guy just threatened me? he thought. Why would he threaten me? I didn’t even do anything…
“You gonna say anything or what?” Emo asked, snapping Goth out of his head.
“O-oh!” Goth stuttered. “Uh, it looks cool! I can t-tell you really love it…can I…hear you play it?”
Wordlessly, Emo put the strap on, turned on the keytar, and began to play it. Just like all of the other instruments, he played incredibly skillfully. However, it seemed as though he was impossibly more skilled at this one than any of the instruments he played for Goth prior. He very obviously loved the keytar a lot, Goth thought.
Emo wrapped up his short keytar performance, and like usual, Goth clapped. Goth was still a bit on edge from Emo’s comment from a moment ago, however, and it shone through his body language, but he did as best as he could to hide it. “Th-that was so good!” he exclaimed. “You’re such a talented musician…I can tell how much you love that keytar…you play it so well. I’m so impressed by you…”
Emo quickly turned off the keytar and put it back in its protective case, avoiding eye contact as Goth praised him once again. He put it back in his closet, burying it back under all of the layers he protected it with.
“S-so, um…I don’t have your number…”
Goth felt his heart racing. On edge both from Emo’s threat, as well as the intensity of asking another person for their phone number. Despite the bump, Goth found this man intriguing, and desperately wanted to be his friend. So he would try as hard as he could to achieve that.
“I’d…love to see you again…maybe play some more music, or…or even do something else…can we…exchange numbers so we can, um…stay in contact?”
Emo turned around and stood up. He stared down at the shuddering man sitting on his bed, and held out his hand. “Give me your phone.”
“E-eh? Okay…” Goth stammered, and he took his cell phone out of his pants pocket, unlocked it, and handed it over to the other man, deciding to trust him. He watched him tap a few things and do what looked like typing, then handed his phone back to him.
“There you go.”
Goth looked down at his phone and saw a new faceless contact in it. He decided to do a test text, and sent one to the number, and a buzz came from Emo’s pocket.
Emo took his phone out and looked at the text Goth sent, that just said, Hello. “What, did you not trust me?” he asked.
“N-no, no!” Goth insisted. “I-I was just sending you a text so y-you could register me as a contact too…”
Emo put his phone back in his pocket and said nothing. Goth then slowly rose to his feet and put his own phone back in his pocket.
“I, um…I enjoyed playing music with you,” he murmured. “I hope to see you again soon…th-thank you for showing me your keytar, it’s really cool…you’re such a talented musician. I’ll, um…see myself out. See you again soon?”
Emo shut his closet, then gave Goth an affirmative nod. “See you soon,” he said, and then he went and sat on his bed and took out his phone, immediately starting to fiddle with it.
Goth stared at the man for a moment, watching him. He went and started doing something else that fast? Did he not have fun? Did he find Goth boring? Did he—
“Thought you were gonna show yourself out,” Emo said, interrupting Goth’s thoughts.
“R-right! Sorry,” Goth stammered. “I’m sorry.”
And he ran out the bedroom door, and then left the apartment, suddenly feeling embarrassed.
Goth sat ill at ease in the chair, staring at the man across the room from him, tapping on a little screen. How was he convinced to do this?
He couldn’t believe he was here in a karaoke room. Even a private one with just him and Emo. There was no way he would be able to do this. Even if he had gotten a bit more comfortable around Emo, there was absolutely no shot that he could do this.
Emo appeared to have selected a song, as he walked away from the small tablet, and went and picked up a microphone. The music started, and Emo began singing.
The song wasn’t really Goth’s cup of tea, but he couldn’t help but admire the control Emo had over his voice. Even with all the other instruments he could play, his singing was beyond them all. As if he was made for singing.
Goth admired his skill. And his confidence to sing a song so brash and bold. He could never scream like that. He could never even do what Emo was doing in general. He sighed and listened to the other man sing, envying him.
Soon enough, the song ended, and Emo was approaching Goth. He held the microphone out to him expectantly. “Alright, your turn now.”
Goth flinched when the microphone was in his face, and he blinked rapidly, eyes darting between the microphone and Emo’s stern face. “H-huh? My…turn…? N-no…”
“Uhh, yes?” Emo countered, cocking an eyebrow. “That’s how karaoke works.”
Goth started to sweat, and he began to shake. His heartrate increased, feeling it thrashing in his ribcage. The room started to close in on him.”No, no…” Goth whispered, breath growing labored. “I…don’t sing…”
Emo continued to give Goth his cocked brow stare, finding his words ridiculous. “The hell you mean, you don’t sing? Didn’t take you for a coward.”
“Ohh, I am a coward…” Goth acquiesced, and he covered his face with his hands, still trembling with fear.
Emo huffed and lowered his arm with the microphone. “Alright, alright, you don’t have to have a fucking meltdown over it, shit,” he cursed, turning away from Goth and walking back over to the small tablet. “Damn, what a fucking pussy. Fine, you don’t have to sing, but I’m getting my fucking money’s worth and doing more songs. Then we can do something else.”
“I-I’m gonna need a minute,” Goth declared, and he rose to his feet. He very quickly bolted out of their private karaoke room, and ran to find the bathroom.
He slipped inside, and leaned over the sink, beginning to hyperventilate. He did his best to regulate his breathing, trying his hardest to calm down. He was so ashamed, he couldn’t believe he let himself act up like this in front of someone else. Sure, he and Emo had become what one could call friends, but they were certainly not close enough in Goth’s taste for him to allow him to see his trauma.
He looked at his face in the mirror, and he sighed at the face of the pathetic man who stared back at him. He felt even more ashamed looking at his reflection. But he was out and supposed to be having fun, he needed to maintain a brave face.
He took a deep breath and washed his face off, then dried it, taking a bit longer to recuperate and bounce back. Then, he finally felt strong enough to leave the bathroom and return to the karaoke room, where Emo was already singing another metal song.
The two of them continued their day together as normal, and did not speak of Goth’s freakout again.
It had been half an hour, and Emo was still nowhere to be seen.
Goth was getting a bit worried.
The two of them had known each other for quite awhile now, Goth trusted Emo wouldn’t have stood him up. So he found his absence concerning.
He decided to shoot Emo a text.
Hey. You alright?
He waited an additional 20 minutes, and received no reply.
He was even more concerned now. Did something happen? Something had to have happened.
Goth took a deep breath and decided to take matters into his own hands. He was inexperienced in this regard, so he was unsure if 50 minutes was or was not a long time to wait for someone, but something about this radio silence felt off. And it filled him with worry.
Emo might be mad at him for this, Goth thought, might hate him for this, might never want to speak to him again because of this—but he decided to go to Emo’s apartment to check in on him. See if he was there, see what was going on. Even if this may have negative consequences, Goth accepted that. He was too worried for his friend.
He checked the address Emo had given him from the last time he went over, and drove to the apartment complex, heart pounding. He got out of the car, entered the building, and went up the stairs to the floor Emo was on. He reached the room that Emo resided in, and—
The door was unlocked, and ajar.
That made Goth’s heart pound even more aggressively. The ajar door was not necessarily an indicator of whether or not Emo was home, but it definitely made him think something had happened.
Then from inside, he heard a banging sound, and what sounded almost like crying. Crying that quickly turned into screaming.
And Goth immediately recognized that to be Emo’s voice.
He bolted into the apartment, and heard the banging again. “E-Emo?!” he exclaimed. “Are you okay?!”
He found Emo standing up, hands balled into fists against the wall, banging his head into said wall. Tears were plastered to his cheeks, and he was wailing.
This was not a sight Goth expected to see today. Or any day, as a matter of fact. But what kind of person would he be if he didn’t do anything? How could he leave his friend like this? He couldn’t. He could never. “Emo, what’s wrong??” he cried.
Emo pulled away from the wall and did not acknowledge Goth at all. He started to pace around the room, still making very distressed noises. Noises that filled Goth with unbridled fear.
“Emo, what happened??” Goth yelled. “I-I’m here! I’m here for you! Let me help you, I’ll try to help you!”
Emo still did not acknowledge Goth, continuing to pace around the room, before he flounced into the kitchen and started to hit his head on the kitchen counter, crying harder and screaming louder.
Goth felt like his heart was—breaking? Was that the most accurate way to describe how he was feeling? He had no idea. He had never felt this kind of distress on behalf of another person before. He had no idea why Emo was acting this way, but that didn’t matter. Emo, Goth’s friend, was hurting, and he was hurting badly.
And then, Goth wanted nothing other than to make him feel better. Never before had he felt so invigorated over something like that, but something about Emo’s behavior scared him in a way he had never felt scared before. Scared for another person’s safety. He was consumed by a need to fix this and make everything better. No matter what it took or how long it took.
“E-Emo, please listen to me!” Goth cried, entering the kitchen, walking over to Emo. “Snap out of it! Please listen to me! Let me be here for you!”
Emo still ignored Goth, and lifted his head from the counter, and started to walk deeper into the kitchen. Walked towards the knife block and reached for a knife.
Goth didn’t care why. His distressed friend was reaching for the knives, that was all that mattered. And so he couldn’t be passive anymore. It was time to be aggressive.
He swallowed every bit of fear and anxiety he had and he ran over to Emo, and he shoved him backwards, away from the block of knives, with all of his strength.
“N-no!! Stop it!!!” he yelled with more force than he had ever yelled before.
He looked up, and Emo had—stopped in his tracks? Emo was frozen in place, staring at Goth. His eyes were wide and his mouth was open. It was a look Goth had never seen on Emo’s face before. It was such a heartbreaking expression. But Goth was not about to let that distract him from his mission. He had gotten Emo to stop for even a moment, and he was going to seize this opportunity.
He quickly walked toward Emo and grabbed both of his hands, Emo just staring back at him with sad, hollow eyes. “Emo…” Goth said, voice softer than his yelling from earlier now that the room was silent. “What’s going on? You need to snap out of it…please. Please. I’m here. I’m here for you. I’ve got you.”
Emo just stared at him silently.
Goth sighed. “O-okay…you don’t have to tell me. That’s okay. But…let me take care of you nonetheless.”
He forcefully dragged Emo out of the kitchen and back to the living room, and pushed him to lay on the couch. Aggression like that was not his sort at all, but he felt like he had to be in order to get through to Emo at all and get him to go along, considering what he had to do just to get him to hear him.
But as soon as he watched Emo’s back hit the sofa, he crumbled, and couldn’t be rough at all anymore. “Please just stay laying there, Emo…I’ve got you. I’m here for you. I’ll be right back, I promise. I’m not leaving. Actually, hang on…”
Goth took a cushion out from another piece of furniture and put it on the couch, lifting Emo’s feet to rest them on the cushion.
“Keep your feet elevated. Now…I’ll be right back, I’m just gonna go into the other room.”
Goth went into the kitchen to get a glass of water, then filled a bag with ice and wrapped it in a towel. He expeditiously returned to the living room, and Emo had not moved an inch.
“Hey…I told you I would be right back. Here…”
He placed the makeshift ice pack on Emo’s forehead.
“There you go…you…banged your head a lot. That should help with that…” he said, and he placed the cup of water on the nearby side table. “I also made you a glass of water, you could probably use some fluids…I-I can help you take it in if you want, or you can just drink it yourself…”
Goth took a seat on the chair left without a cushion. He looked at Emo, who was staring at the ceiling.
“I’ll…I’ll stay here with you, okay? As long as you need me to. I’m here for you…”
Goth took a deep breath and leaned forward a little.
“I care about you, you know…”
Emo showed no visible reaction to those words. Then again, Goth was sure that he couldn’t show a visible reaction to anything at all right now.
“I’ve got you, I’ve always got you…” Goth reassured. “You’re my friend. I care about you. And…it makes me really sad to see you go through strife like that…I’ll always be here for you, okay? You can always come to me…”
He looked down at his hands and started twiddling his thumbs. His heart was still pounding, but now he wasn’t entirely sure why.
He took a deep breath and decided to show his caring in a more tangible, physical way. Plus, he was feeling guilty for his roughness towards Emo, even if it may have been necessary.
He got up from the chair with no cushion and approached Emo. He got down on his knees, and gently took and held Emo's hand.
“If you ever need anything, you can always come to me,” he said. “I…will always be here for you, Emo...always.”
Emo slowly turned his head and looked at Goth with his forlorn eyes, expression breaking Goth's heart once again. He then looked at Goth's hand holding his, when he noticed—
Are those scars?
Fairly delicately, Emo pulled Goth's hand forward a little, looking closer at it—and he indeed saw scars and callouses all around Goth's nails, on all of his fingers, but especially around his thumb.
He was, of course, not subtle, even in a weaker state, and Goth most certainly noticed. “Huh? What are you…looking at?” he murmured.
Emo kept staring at the scars, and he felt his heart palpitate a little. This was an odd feeling. Almost a revelation. The revelation of—
It's not just me?
Finally, he showed a visible reaction to something. He couldn't not after learning something like this. He sat up from the couch slowly, ice pack slipping off, and he hung his head.
Goth's eyes widened at the unexpected movement, and he stammered, “E-Emo, please lay back down…you need to rest…”
Emo ignored Goth's advice, and got up off the couch and onto his feet. Perplexed, Goth slowly rose to his feet as well, staring at the taller man, who was staring down at his own right arm.
Emo looked at his striped glove in consternation for awhile. He really wasn't the only one? Goth struggled with those issues, those thoughts, those pains as well?
Perhaps he wasn't so alone after all.
And so he decided to show Goth that neither of them were so alone anymore.
Slowly, Emo pulled his striped glove off, and revealed many scars that were underneath. Some looked very old, some looked quite fresh, some were clearly from knives, others were likely cigarette burns—
And he decided to open up, make this moment even more vulnerable for him, and showed all of them to Goth.
Goth slowly threw up his eyebrows, and he gently grabbed Emo's wrist, looking at his scars. He did not expect this at all. He always assumed that glove was for fashion purposes, he had no idea it was hiding such a dark secret. He felt his heart pound in his chest. This was such an intimate secret. Emo really felt comfortable enough to share it with him?
“You have scars…?” he whispered, trying to mask his own truth, as if Emo didn't already see it. “Why…did you decide to show me this…?”
Emo answered that second query by slowly lifting Goth's hand to his face, and pressing it against his cheek. Goth heard Emo take a soft breath, as if he was loosening up and relaxing.
Goth felt his face flush and his heart throb even more viciously than the last time. What was happening? Everything was so tender all of a sudden? One minute he was laying Emo down on the couch after he was breaking down, and the next minute Emo is cupping his own cheek with Goth's hand? What was happening?
He stared at the man leaning into his hand, into his scars, and he knew he was found out. He didn't say anything about it, embarrassed, and he simply reciprocated by lifting Emo's scarred arm, and caressing it gently.
They stood there for awhile, holding each other, feeling each other's scars. It was one of the most intimate things either of them had ever experienced. Neither of them expected the day to lead here at all. Neither had ever felt so seen, so understood before. Until now.
Perhaps, Emo thought, this man deserved a chance after all.
Emo stared at the man sitting on his couch, his words and actions from the previous week constantly replaying in his head.
The two of them had not spoken about Emo’s episode or their shared experience since that day, which Emo was grateful for; he didn't need to revisit that and tap back into that place. Even so, he was unable to stop thinking about the kindness, the sweetness, the tenderness Goth showed him. Goth saw him in one of his most vulnerable states, and he helped him? He didn’t do anything to or for Emo with anything but the purest, kindest of intentions?
Emo felt as if the walls he had put around himself had crumbled for this man over the past week. Goth knew his secret now, and handled him so delicately. He felt like now, he could finally surrender himself to the battle of distrust, and allow himself to trust and open up more to this one man who showed him more kindness and solidarity in that one moment than anyone had ever shown him for his entire life.
He kept staring at Goth, and gradually, his train of thought began to shift. He stared at that fluffy, curly hair, those thin yet curvaceous hips, that sweet face, and found himself thinking—
Fuck, was he always this cute?
Goth felt eyes on him, and he turned and looked at Emo, making eye contact with him. He stood up from the couch and walked over to him, and tilted his head, giving Emo an inquisitive look. “Hm? Whatcha thinking about?” he asked.
Emo watched Goth’s hair move at the tilt of his head, and felt an odd pang in his chest. A pang he had never felt before. Suddenly, he found he could not see Goth the same way as he had before. Now, all that he heard in his head was, He’s cuter than I remembered…
“Why are you staring at me like that?”
Emo watched a soft pink bloom in Goth’s cheeks as he kept staring at him, and he felt the pang intensify. He kept staring into Goth’s eyes, and his own eyes narrowed as his mind continued to wander to different places.
“D-do you…want something?”
“Yes,” Emo declared. “I want you to take those stupid fucking contacts out.”
Goth flinched and reflexively took a step back. He turned even redder, shoulders flushing as well, which just made him look even cuter. How did Emo not learn until now that he blushed with his whole body? “Wh-what are you talking about??” Goth exclaimed, starting to sweat. “I don’t wear contacts! These are my real eyes!”
“Oh, please. You’re dumb as hell if you think I’ll believe that bullshit,” Emo snapped, and he closed the newly born space between them again, stepping close to the shorter man. “Let me see the real deal.”
Goth started to tremble. “Th-they are my real eyes! M-my eyes are red! Really! M-my sister’s eyes are sapphire blue…we b-both have very rare eye colors, I assure you…”
Emo scoffed and decided to take matters into his own hands, grabbing Goth’s face with one hand and reaching for his eye with the other.
When those fingers studded with jewelry reached for his eye, Goth knew that the jig was up. He sighed and squirmed to dodge Emo’s hand, but acquiesced and said, “A-alright, alright...I’ll show you…but please…don’t say anything about what you see, and…please, don’t tell anyone…”
Goth took a step back and sighed heavily. He couldn’t believe he was convinced to do this. Then again, Emo showed him himself at his most vulnerable. Goth supposed he owed him the same. He held his eyelid open and removed one contact, revealing a sparkling teal green eye. He took another deep breath, and repeated the same process with the other eye, revealing a shimmering sky blue one underneath the other contact lens.
Goth lowered his hands and put down his contacts, turning redder and looking visibly shier and meeker with his heterochromia on display. It proved very difficult to make eye contact with Emo knowing he could see his biggest secret, but eventually was able to meet his gaze.
Emo was staring into his eyes intensely, the expression looking different than his usual resting expression. And how could it not be? Emo was unsure what he was expecting to see beneath those blood-red contacts, but it definitely wasn’t the most gorgeous pair of eyes he had ever seen. Eyes like expertly made stained glass. Like two flawless gemstones shimmering in the sunlight. Like seafoam and the sea reflecting light immaculately. A beyond beautiful sea, in fact. If Emo were to go, he wouldn’t mind going like that, he realized. He could get pulled in happily and sink into them like diving into the farthest depths. What a beautiful way to go, he thought. He felt as though he had just found his new favorite thing in the world.
He stepped closer to stare even more intently into them, to admire those gorgeous eyes even closer, when Goth let out a noise and turned around, covering his eyes with one hand, the feeling of shame catching up to him.
In response, Emo grabbed Goth’s wrist and pulled him back to turn him around so he could gaze into his eyes longer, when Goth cried—
“P-please don’t insult me!!”
Goth started to tremble, and his lip began quivering. He looked into Emo’s eyes, staring at him like he was genuinely afraid he would hurt him over something as absurd as his eyes.
“Please…d-don’t hurt me…I’ll put the contacts back in, just don’t—”
“I need to stare into those beautiful eyes for the rest of my life.”
A wave of warmth and surprise ran through Goth, causing him to shiver a bit. He felt Emo pull him closer and cup his cheeks, continuing to gaze into his eyes. He felt the tension in his body loosen slightly, but he was still so befuddled by the emotions Emo was making him feel. Beautiful eyes? The rest of his life? “Wh…what?”
Emo was no good at words. They did not come easy to him at all, and he struggled to find the right ones to articulate his thoughts. It was much easier to show his feelings through actions, much like he did the week prior upon seeing Goth's scars. So he did so once again, and he closed the space between him and Goth, and pressed their lips together in a kiss.
Goth let out the cutest yelp as their lips met, and he reflexively gripped tight onto Emo’s sides, shaking a lot. He had never been kissed before. This was what it felt like? His heart was racing like it wanted to break free from the confines of his ribcage. His entire body was violently trembling, and he felt himself grow warmer. Emo was kissing him? Emo decided his eyes were so beautiful he wanted to kiss him? Emo had feelings for him at all that compelled him to kiss him? Him? Gothamine Len? The man who had gone 25 years without maintaining a single friendship and not even receiving so much as the time of day from another human being, let alone affection? This was completely new. Goth had no idea how to feel or what to do about this revelation—other than that he now loved to be kissed, and he decided to kiss back.
When Emo felt Goth kiss him back, his feelings began to overflow. His own heart throbbed as it was completely claimed by this irresistibly adorable man. To show his intensifying feelings, his hands began to slide down Goth’s body, running along his midriff through his oversized shirt.
Goth let out an embarrassingly pathetic noise, which brought him back to earth a little bit, and he realized what was happening. “Mmn—s-slow down…” he mumbled against Emo’s lips.
That meek request was not enough to stop the insatiable Emo, and he kept kissing the shorter man, as well as touching and feeling his midriff.
Eventually, the sensations got to be too much, and Goth couldn’t be meek about it. He broke the kiss and gently pushed Emo back a little. “Slow down, please…” he pleaded again. “D-don’t touch me like that…not yet…”
Emo looked at the beet-red, trembling man before him, and conceded to his request, the not yet taking hopeful residence in the back of his mind. However, he approached Goth again, and cupped his cheeks. “Just let me look into those eyes of yours for a little longer…” he requested, voice more gentle than Goth had ever heard it sound before.
That tone made Goth’s heart throb, and he unconsciously put his hands on Emo’s shoulders, heart still pounding. He met Emo’s gaze. He was sure his heart was racing so much that Emo could hear it, and if he touched his chest, definitely feel it. “O-okay…” he replied softly. He stared back into those piercing blue eyes that suddenly felt less cold than they did before. In fact, they felt completely different for Goth to gaze into than ever before. He felt his body grow warmer looking at that face so up close. Like he wanted to always be this close from now on. Like he made a new discovery. About Emo, about himself, about life.
He didn’t get to think about it much longer before Emo closed the space between them again, kissing Goth once again. Goth immediately kissed back, completely melting into the kiss, holding onto him tight, like he didn’t want to let go any time soon.
As it turned out, swallowing his fear and anxiety and deciding to talk to Emo that day in the instrument repair shop meant much more than he ever thought it would mean. It meant he got to be right here today. In a place he never thought he would get to be—kissing another person. More than that, he was experiencing strong feelings for another person, that for once appeared to be reciprocated. He never thought a day like that would come.
And for the first time, even if for a brief moment, even if this never happened again, everything felt okay. Everything felt right. Everything felt good.
He definitely did not expect the scary-looking man in the instrument repair shop to end up being the one to make him feel this way. To be the one that made him feel more understood than he ever had. But he wouldn’t have things any other way. He definitely saw Emo in a completely new light now. A brighter one. A sweeter one. He instantly could not get enough. He decided he wanted to feel like this every day. Decided he wanted to be with Emo every day. Decided he wanted to do this every day. He never wanted this to cease. He could drown in this moment. Drown in the taste of Emo. He had never felt this way before.
And he couldn’t be happier.