Chapter Eight - Dance

It was nice sometimes to just be able to talk about nothing in particular, to drown oneself in frivolous chatter. The two voices went on endlessly, Joshua’s melodic tenor and Delilah’s—well, Delilah probably would’ve thought it was squeaky and weak, like a mouse, but Joshua thought it was pretty in its own way, floating like waves lapping their ears as they lay in their separate beds. They were close but not quite close enough because Joshua could only hear Delilah’s small breaths, and not his heartbeat, and he knew he was hopeless and desperate and pathetic and wrong. But drowning in this would be okay as long as he had Delilah’s hand to grasp and—

Aaaargh, screw it. Joshua pulled his mind from the warm, mucky honey it had submerged itself in, forcing himself to stop being so pathetically sappy. He knew he should cut those feelings off before they overwhelmed him, but he couldn’t seem to—even though his brother had got there ahead of him, had laid siege to Delilah’s heart, and he knew he didn’t stand a chance against his brother, even his dead brother— because, he guessed, they were too important and too real to be smothered or slaughtered.

And that, in all its breathless, heart-choking beauty, made him more scared than he’d ever been in his life. If Haven loomed like a dark shadow, Delilah was a cold, scaly, claw-tipped hand on his shoulder during his shower.

And Joshua barely made sense to himself. So he was sure that whatever he was blabbering about to Delilah made even less sense. Somewhere in the conversation he had stumbled onto his favorite topic of conversation, music, although he had no idea how he’d talked his way there. It was just something he did naturally, going off on tangents about music. He heard himself talking.

“Well, my most important hobby has always been music… playing or singing, it didn’t really matter to me. Listening, even. Once I snuck out to this really awesome concert… it was in a really small venue, one of those up-and-coming indie bands everybody raves about nowadays—although I can’t even remember who it was now, but it was really awesome! The singer’s voice was so nice, soft but strong at the same time—that’s really hard to do, most people assume that by singing softly their voices have to be really weak and whiny, but honestly, it’s just the same amount of vocal energy in a smaller space, right? Of course, he was also really good at singing forte too and his voice was kinda high-pitched, but really quite beautiful… but anyway, when my parents caught me I had some real hell to pay. It was worth it, though.” Joshua sighed, stars fluttering in his eyes. They were half from music and half something else, the kind of something else that he didn’t want to face.

Delilah only laughed at him. “You’re really a music geek, aren’t you? Jeez, dunno what you were thinking by not becoming a musician.” It made something ache inside, the way Delilah laughed, the tiny smile when he finished, the way his lips moved when he spoke.

Joshua forced the pain down and smiled. “Hmm… well, I always said it was because someone needed to handle our parents’ business… but looking back, I was just afraid to put myself out there. Getting rejected is a scary thing, you know? And what if I got accepted, but the label tried to change who I was? So I told myself I didn’t want to be a musician to save myself from that… but I feel like I’ve changed a lot since then. I think… if I survive this crazy adventure-slash-revenge-mission of yours, I’d like to give it a shot.”

“Good for you. I’ll be rooting for you! I do, of course, expect free CDs, T-shirts, and backstage passes… and limited-time-only memorabilia which I can sell online for millions…”

Joshua shook his head. “Just don’t start taking bids, kid; I’m not famous yet.”

“But you will be. I know you can. And if the labels don’t want you, you can just be a righteous babe and make your own! And—and stuff!” Delilah cried.

“You’re obviously a bit of a music fan yourself,” Joshua observed.

“Ehh, just the listening aspect. Can’t sing, can’t play—I can dance, though.”

“Well, yeah… I’d hope you could dance, otherwise that giant ass of yours wouldn’t get the attention it deserved in the clubs…” he teased.

Delilah stuck his tongue out. “It’s not giant.”

Joshua waved that away. “Yeah, yeah. I know. So, do you have any plans for when this is over? Any dreams you’d like to fulfill?”

Delilah bit his lip, his eyes flicking up to meet Joshua’s uncertainly.. “Well… I dunno, really. There’s not much I can do. I could… uhh… be your backup dancer?”

“Well, I don’t play that kind of music… although I’m sure you’d be really great at it!” Joshua assured as soon as Delilah began to frown. “You could… be a model? You could dress in gothic Lolita like those asian rock stars.”

“I dunno, I honestly want to move away from the selling-my-body occupations…”

“Heh. Well, if I were being cynical, I’d say that all occupations are about selling your body… just in different ways. I mean, if you do construction, that’s selling your body… and in any other occupation, you only get hired if you’re pretty. So basically, all occupations are based on aesthetics.”

“That’s kinda sad.”

“Yeah, but that’s the cynic’s view. The optimist will say: go out and do your best and you’re beautiful inside and maybe one day you’ll win the lottery or marry Bill Gates!”

“So, how about you? Have you ever sold your body?”

“Sold my body?”

“Yeah. We know about me, but what about you?”

“No… I’m not good enough to have people pay me for it… the first time was so embarrassing…” Joshua flushed, resting his forehead on his hand. “It was pathetic. Over almost before it began, y’know? Real disappointing for the girl. I hope I’ve gotten better since then, but probably not. Ha ha.”

“Well, your brother was pretty sad too, the first time,” Delilah smirked. “Of course, that was probably just due to my level of mad skill.”

“I’m sure. And your first time?”

Delilah seemed to close up almost instantly. “You don’t really wanna know about that.”

“If you’re willing to talk, I do,” Joshua murmured gently.

Delilah sighed, exasperated. “Goddamit, don’t be so sweet to me,” he growled, but Joshua could tell that he wasn’t mad.

“Aww, don’t be embarrassed.”

Delilah swallowed. “The first time wasn’t fun. I spent most of it with my face shoved against the wall, unable to breathe. Cried the whole time; I was even more pathetic back then. About halfway through I passed out—I don’t even know how long it lasted. I woke up in a bed, tangled in blood-soaked sheets. Sore for almost a week afterward… but, well, that’s in the past.”

Joshua patted his shoulder, giving a welcoming smile. Delilah sank into his embrace and pressed his face into Joshua’s shoulder, but he didn’t cry.

“I don’t know why, Joshua… but you make me feel really safe…” he breathed out. “Even though you’re a hopeless idiot…”

“Just ‘cause I remind you of Jonas.”

“No. No, he didn’t make me feel like this. Mm, dammit… you confuse me. My poor brain…”

Joshua didn’t know whether that was a good thing or not, but Delilah’s arms were around his waist and he was snuggling up to him like he was an overgrown teddy bear.

“Well, you’ve already moved away from the body business, right?” he suggested gently. “You’ve been wearing lots of clothes lately—and nobody around here’s been getting any, I can tell. If they did, they wouldn’t be so cranky. Especially that Paco. You see, I think he’s got the hots for you and he’s just not willing to admit it.” Joshua whispered into Delilah’s ear.

The blond giggled. “You’re dumb.”

“Well, thank you. Thank you very much.”

Delilah sighed and leaned in. “Paco… likes… María,” he whispered slowly.

Joshua stared at him with wide-eyed disappointment. “Really?”

“Yep. He might try to hide it, but he’s definitely got a thing for her. Can’t blame him, she’s pretty hot,” Delilah said with a shrug. “ ‘Course, there are things he doesn’t know about her.”

“And you do?”

“Yeah, more than he does anyway. You should’ve realized by now—we all know more about each other than we should.”

Giving a dejected sigh, Joshua pushed himself to his feet. “That makes me sad.”

“¿Por qué?”

“She was the last defense in my ‘I Promise I’m Straight’ Fortress… so that leaves me either alone or gay, I guess.”

“Those are all labels anyway… we all try to fit into them, but none of us will ever fit. It’s like pretty silk dresses. They’re never going to fit you because they don’t give at all and they only come in the size just smaller than yours, but you buy them anyway because you’re expected to look pretty.”

Joshua sat down next to Delilah, shoulder to shoulder with the little blond. “Well, I tend not to buy dresses, but I can understand that, I guess. We all want to figure out ‘what we are,’ but we kinda go looking in the wrong direction… we try to put ourselves into categories when really, everybody needs their own category. I guess if we were all honest with ourselves, we’d probably be shades of bisexual.”

“Do you feel like being honest with yourself?” Delilah asked.

Joshua suddenly felt kinda edgy because damn, he was close. So close that he was too close, suffocatingly close, ‘OMG-you-turn-me-on’ close. Laughing nervously, Joshua scratched his head. “Honesty is scary sometimes.”

“S’ok,” Delilah whispered, leaning his head against Joshua’s shoulder. “You’re just a little kid in the realm of self-discovery, after all. These things take time.”

Joshua found himself returning to the first impression he’d had of Delilah, that only someone really lucky would be blessed with his love—someone luckier than Joshua—and that the sentiment had surprisingly little to do with how pretty the boy was.

(o)(c)(h)(o)

The music pounded against the floor, strobes hanging from the ceiling, an unsteady disco ball spinning overhead. Everything glowed brightly in the darkness—the walls, the dancers, the boy pushed up against him—

Wait. Wait, what?

It had been Delilah’s idea to go to a rave, because apparently he “wanted to let off some steam.” Paco thought that Delilah just wanted an excuse to have several one-night stands in the bathroom, while Joshua was too busy being afraid by the thought of a rave to consider Delilah’s motives at all.

He figured it could either be really fun or really… unfun. The opposite of fun. He could get drugged and mugged and… uhh, bugged. Joshua’s stomach turned and churned and burned at the thought of raves. Raaaaaaaves.

Either way, they had picked up Paco and María and gone to an old warehouse with windows broken and bricks crumbling, but lights flashing onto the streets. They entered through the back and were soon in the thick of things, Joshua finding himself hopelessly lost in the sea of sweat-drenched bodies.

Ten minutes later he found himself with glowsticks shoved down his pants (when had that happened?) and psychedelic lip-prints on his neck. And when had that love-bite appeared? Oh me, oh my.

Joshua twitched his way out of the crowd, trying to take stock of himself. He twisted his neck, trying to peer at his back to see if any damage had been done there.

“Hey,” he barely heard a voice behind him, speaking above the din as a hand touched his arm. “You OK?”

He turned and was relieved to see Delilah. “No.”

The blond rolled his eyes. Joshua noticed he’d acquired quite a few new accessories since he’d last seen him—seven bracelets, two rings, a necklace, a crown, and a bright purple belt, all made from glow sticks. There was paint glowing on his face and splattered in his hair. “Yeah, you look pretty freaked out. What were you doing, trying to make sure nobody’d penetrated anything important without your noticing?” Delilah grinned. “C’mon, don’t you wanna dance?” He held his hand out expectantly. Joshua knew that it wasn’t an offer so much as a pleasantly voiced command.

“Not particularly,” Joshua answered, knowing that his response would hardly matter because Delilah wouldn’t hear him and he’d get dragged back into the crowd again anyway. And that was what happened, pretty fingers circling his wrist and tugging him into the sticky heat of the dancers.

And when Joshua got over feeling like a fool he allowed himself to look like a fool. That is, he danced. He took the glowsticks from his pockets and waved them in the air, swaying his hips to the fast beat and following the flow of the crowd. It was surprisingly fun, getting grossly sweaty and moving with everyone else and being the worst dancer in a crowd full of bad dancers.

Delilah seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself, his eyes closed happily as he swayed and jumped and did some crazy moves with his hips. He really was a good dancer. “Better than Shakira,” Joshua said to himself, glad that Delilah couldn’t hear him (the blond would laugh and make fun of him.)

But then the music slowed marginally and he caught his breath for a moment, but he got little opportunity for rest as arms slid around his neck and he fell into a field of violets shining darkly.

He swallowed hard, allowing his twitching fingers to take up residence on Delilah’s waist, his feet leading him in a clumsy swaying motion that he barely noticed. His heart was beating faster than it should, even after the dancing he’d done, and sweat was trickling down the back of his neck and little fingers were twining in his hair and—

And Delilah pulled him close, his face looking completely innocent and open, no traces of malice or manipulation curling his lips or tainting his eyes. Lips touched his like sweet violence and he heard a whisper, a name, but he couldn’t make it out. Then again, why would he need to?

And perhaps the world should’ve crashed down and he should’ve shoved Delilah away but he found he could do nothing but hold him tighter and kiss him back.

He knew it was wrong, terrible to kiss a boy who was torn up over his twin, a boy who only wanted him because he resembled someone who was already dead, but he did it anyway.

“I’ve got all the information I need. Let’s go home,” Delilah breathed into him.

“In-for-ma-tion?” Joshua asked in staccato, trying to keep his heart from jumping the way it was.

Delilah kissed him again and he found he couldn’t resist being tugged out the door and into the dark streets.

AN: It's been a while, sorry. This was written in pieces and then "slammed together with magic and rainbows." :D Ahem, anyway. And only two scenes! I must've done a lot of rambling... uhh, anyway. Happy 2008.