Sweet Torment (boyxboy)

Chapter 7: Assessment

"Simon. Are you ill?"Chory cried in alarm. I just groaned, cursing myself for eating so many bikkies yesterday. I wipe my mouth as best I can, and look up at Chory with my hands on my knees.

"So now what?" I say slightly out of breath. He looks down at me with a disturbed look in his eyes.

"I fear she hath not given up on whatever she plans." He sighs after he says this, and leans slightly on the uber long flute thingy. He's just been carrying it casually this whole tme! Weirdo. How did I not see it?

I clear my throat before saying, "Well she said this place was an illusion, so do you have any bright ideas on how to get out of here? I'd rather not wander any longer." The last thing I wanted to do was push him, but all this physical action was wearing my recently beaten body to it's limits

"How did you enter this place? May it be we might leave the same way? " he says.

"Would've been a grand idea, not regarding the fact that I haven't the slightest clue as to how I got here. At all." I say dejectedly, and seat myself on a very uncomfortable rock. Why can't you be comfortable, stupid rock? 

I complain mentally for a while, until Chory grabs my hand and pulls me up. I trip like the graceful swan I am, and faceplant against his chest.

"Oomph!" Well, ow. I put my free hand on his chest to push myself off but he simply wraps my arm round his back and proceeds to wrap his arms around my small torso. I blush a bit at the embrace, and gulp. I haven't had a proper, voluntary hug in, like, EVER. I hugged him earlier, but no one else has initiated one with me.

"Chory, uh, you're s-squeezing a bit tightly there!" I try and say but it comes out more like, Mmfhg, nng ergh blfsg gah! Yeah. Intelligence if I ever heard it. Suddenly I feel cold fingers combing through my hair, again. Not saying I mind a gentle caress, say with french accent, but I'm not used to it. Plus I barely know him. Though I do like him. I'm such a fairy. Geez. Oh well, I don't judge. Focus you idiot I scold myself once again due to the incessant stroking of my hair that my brain is telling me to put a stop to.  

I turn my face a bit to speak, and breath, let's not forget that minor detail.

"Chory, what, if I may ask, is the purpose of this embrace? I smell, you smell(I'm a rotten liar) we just got eye-raped by a crazy hag, and you think it's a proper time t- "

"Have ye not ever been told that ye speak excessively?" He interrupts slash mumbles into my hair which he is still playing with, FYI. I register what he said and pout.

"So! I can talk if I want! Why are you hugging me you-you-you large person!" I grin triumphantly. What? It was short notice and he is making my brain scrambled with his hair touching business!

"Is this not a form of comfort? You looked as though you were in need of comfort, was I mistaken? I think not. Seeing as I am your only companion, I shall provide your comforting." He says, like he is the know-er of all things regarding me. As if! Tch!

"Th-thanks I guess. But, could ya let go now? I'm all comforted, promise." I say, enjoying but not enjoying the hug. Like I said, this kind of thing is foreign to me. He releases me slowly, leaving his hands on my shoulders while looking down into my eyes. Too close! Is what I thought. My head was spinning from looking into his gorgeous eyes after all the affection. Why is he so touchy?! I try and pull back a bit but he just does what he did in the tower, and leans down to put his forehead on mine. That has got to hurt his back. He has to bend over like ten feet to reach me! I try to distract myself from his closeness with these thoughts, but surprise, it ain't working. He looks like he is about to say something, but then I hear something that pulls us out of our little bubble.

"FAGS!" I hear someone say and blink. The hell? I push Chory away with difficulty, and look around. Holy cheese! How did we get from enchanted forest to the city again?! I look around warily and see a lone, short Mexican man with baggy clothes and gold front teeth, plus baldness. Well......then. I see that though it is quite early, we are still alone on a street corner surrounded by warehouse after warehouse. Why must it always be creepy warehouses? I turn to the man who could've been the only one who said it with a steely look in my eyes.

"Now correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm fairly sure that neither he nor I are any form of cigarette." I state simply, pursing my lips. He curls his lip at me, and oh! Discovery! He has a tiny mustachio! It looks hilarious, by the way. I formally dub him Mustachio-Man!

"I 'unno whachu' jus say, homie but I ain't gonna let no fairies chill in my joint. Get a move on homos!" Mustachio-Man yells almost unintelligibly. I look at Chory peripherally to see him completely fascinated with the little man and our conversation. Oh boy, am I gonna have to answer a million questions later.  

I pinch the bridge of my nose and try not to grammar-Nazi Mustachio-Man.

"Look, we're leaving, m'kay? No trouble." He juts his chin up like he told me to say that or something, and flashes his teeth again. WHAT is this guy doing in bloody London!? He's nearly incompetent! I reach for Chory only to feel nothing. I look round frantically, but see him walking up to Mustachio-Man slowly. Eh!? Mustachio-Man eyes him warily, but without warning Chory grabs the little man and lifts him by the armpits and into the air!

Like a foot off the ground! Mustachio-Man starts to thrash under chory's hold while Chory simply tilts his head in what seems to be wonder. Oh for the love of- "Chory, put him down! Honestly, you can't go about lifting people!" I stomp up to him and crane my neck to glare at his face. Oh, but what an attractive face it is. Mental slap to my inner girl. All better. Chory pouts like a scolded puppy while Mustachio-Man whines and yells at Chory in Spanish, calling him 'stupido gringo' and things.

I hold my resolve at Chory's pouting face while he none too gently--well, drops poor little Mustachio-Man. He jumps to his feet yelling Spanish curses while Chory stands looking amused down at the little man. I cover my mouth to hide my chuckle, as the man now runs off. I cough and turn to Chory, false glaring. How can I be mad at that pout? He ducks his head and looks up at me through his lashes, lord help me.

"I do apologize, Simon, I hadn't known peasants were respected more now, especially males. Am I forgiven?" he says cutely, truly sounding sorry and unknowing. D'awww, stop! Gayyyy, I hiss at myself mentally. I step close to him and wrap my arms cautiously around his waist, since that's all I can reach.  

How tall is this man? He holds me back and I smile, thankful for the excuse to hug him. I think I could easily get used to this.  I'm so gay. Gawd.

"Forgiven." I say slash sigh into his chest. He just stays silent, holding me. I feel the uneasiness again, but I keep holding, knowing if I'm going to get over this with anybody, it will be my 'only companion' as Chory so nicely put it, who'll help me. It doesn't last, which I have mixed feelings about, when we hear shouting.

"Aqui!!"

"Mas Alla!!" I know enough Spanish to know that means people are probably pointing. I pull away and spot Mustachio-Man man down the street. And he brought amigos.

----------sorry about the last chapter! It was short I know. Next one is fun though! With more Chory dialogue!----------<3