Jazz Red's Anomaly

c h a p t e r. 22

"I want to be your last boyfriend too." Jazz tells him truthfully, lips just brushing his and his thumbs running over Castor's hips. "Please?"

His star doesn't say anything, but the way he kissed him was answer enough.

They relaxed in the hot tub for another good hour or so, mostly kissing until it got a bit overwhelming for Jazz and then the two talked about the silly things the musician thought of.

Having one of the butlers bring up some small smack things and different kinds of sandwiches, they eat before getting some towels and laying them over the balcony next to the hot tub, watching the sun disappear over the horizon and for the stars and the full moon to take its place.

Jazz, like the very true nerd he was, pointed out all the constellations and stars he knew about, even going off into a tangent about some of the stories or the Greek myths attached to them.

And, of course, about the Castor Alpha that was a star but not his star, too.

Castor seemed a little distracted, but the musician also knew he liked to just listen sometimes, and kept talking, letting his celestial curl into his side and steal his warmth.

"Castor?" He asks, tilting his head down so mint can crash with lightning-strike gray eyes when his god looks up at him. "What do you think happens when we die?"

The star pauses, and says, "I don't fucking know, I'm probably going to hell. You might... I don't know, where do you think puppies go when they die? Or do you want to be reincarnated?"

"Excuse me, sir," Jazz rolls over, pulling his boyfriend onto his lap with a small, not-really intimidating glare. "You are not going to hell, because if you do I'll simply have to follow you and I'm not about that after-life. So we're both gonna go to, like, purgatory and make friends with all the other dweebs and pet puppies and we'll both be ghosties so technically you won't be allergic to anything and can drink as many pomegranate smoothies as you want."

"You couldn't get into hell even if you wanted to," Castor retorts back.

The musician bends down and kisses his nose, "You're severely underestimating my friendship-making skills. I could befriend some high up angels and bust you out. Not that I think you'd be going there anyways, you're too nice for that."

"Too nice," He scoffs.

"Mhm, very nice all around God," Jazz nodded at him. "Twelve outta ten, because even your grumpiness is adorable and you're never mean to me."

"Why would I be mean to you?" Castor rolls his eyes. "You're my boyfriend."

"That fact that you're not mean to me is exactly my point, Star."

"You're gonna be a stubborn puppy about this, aren't you?"

"I'm not a puppy," Jazz pouts.

"And I'm not a God," The celestial easily replied back.

"Liar, that's what you are." The musician grumbled. "A grumpy liar."

"Fine," Castor gave in, settling down onto his boyfriend, hands holding onto his forearms, his own hands gripping onto the celestial's hips. "Where do you think we go when we die?"

"Hm," He tilted his head at him. "I think that, when we die, people get the pain they've given to other people."

"All pain?"

"Not like... not like if you spilled hot coffee on me by accident, but like, if you came up to someone and just decked them for no reason, then you'd get the physical and emotional pain that you gave to them. Good people, great people even, get it too. Kinda like karma, kinda not. Oh! I also think people go wherever they want to go, if it doesn't hurt anyone else's soul. Like my parents, they're going to become ghosts together and scare the shit out of people. Me? I'd like to go to a garden at midnight. Somewhere not too bright, peaceful, but busy enough to give my mind something to do too. You'll be there, too."