8

Claimer: They're mine! All mine! Muwahahahaha! No, just kidding, but they really are mine. Please don't steal without permission! (Not that you would want to, but if you did…)

A/N: Wow, my first actual post on fictionpress. This is monumental. Haha. Well, not really. I'm probably going to be massacred by the people who are reading my fanfiction because I promised an update two weeks ago and I've been working on this instead. Oh well. I'll post there later. Anyways, I don't know if this is good or bad, so if you would, I would love reviews. Thanks!

WARNINGS: This is a slash, yaoi, m/m, whatever you want to call it story, meaning there are going to be guys boffing each other in later chapters, and in this chapter there are mentions of boys boffing each other. Also, there is some nasty language. If this stuff bothers you, please leave. Thank you. And now, on with the story. Hope you enjoy! Oh wait, this chapter is told from Aryeh's point of view (That'll mean something in a once you start reading), just so you know. Now you can read. Sorry. Enjoy.

Black Sunday

Chapter 1: Smile Empty Soul

When I woke up that morning, it was to the soft sound of Trystan's asthmatic breathing and the warmth of his breath ghosting across my neck. His hair was tickling my chin a little, and my legs were asleep because he was lying on top of me, and I suddenly realized that the sun was shining far too brightly through my window for him to still be there, or least for him to still be there with me, the both of us completely naked and my door unlocked. I reached down and shook his shoulder with a bit more force than was really necessary. "Tryst, wake up." My soft tenor was slightly panicked, and his crystal blue eyes were clouded with confusion when they finally opened and he sat up a bit.

"Wassamatter?" His voice was rough from sleep, and I almost laughed as he stretched and yawned, reminding me painfully of his younger brother.

"We slept late. You have to put some clothes on before-" I was cut off by the sound of my door swinging open and banging into my wall, the image of my mother's cheerful face flooding my mind with terror. I watched silently as her eyes darted around my room to the pile of discarded clothes on my floor and then to my trashcan, where, of course, she spotted the condoms. When her eyes finally came to rest on me, they were filled with a sort of delayed horror. I understood, of course, because it's not everyday a woman walks in on her presumably straight son lying naked in bed with his best friend. "Shit."

I could tell the severity of the situation hadn't really registered in Trystan's mind yet, because he always took an eternity to wake up, and he was currently running his fingers through his mussed blonde locks, attempting to rid it of the clumps caused by hardened gel. He smiled lazily when he was finished, not catching the look of utter horror in my mother's eyes and said through a yawn, "Mornin' Mrs. Cameron." It was as he said her name that he seemed to realize what my mother standing there meant, and he cursed. "Oh fuck."

This must have triggered something in her mind, because within seconds, my mother was dragging us both out of my bed, ignoring our futile attempts to keep the sheets around our waists, and her voice was shaking with fury as she spoke, "Both of you get dressed." For a moment, we just stood there, attempting hold on to any shred of modesty we still had, tangling the sheets around our bodies, and then she hissed, "Now."

Less than a minute later, we were dressed, Tryst's shirt on wrong side out and his pants still unbuttoned and me wearing a pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt which I had put on backwards. My mother didn't care. She just grabbed both of us and dragged us out of my room and down the stairs, bringing us to a halt in front of my father, who was sitting at the breakfast table, sipping a steaming mug of black coffee and reading the Sunday news paper before he went to get ready for church. My mother rapped her hand on the table and squawked, "Adam, put the paper down! We have a situation."

For a moment, my father looked confused, but he folded the paper nonetheless, setting it on the table along with his mug and sitting up a little straighter, staring at us down his nose and waiting for an explanation. My mother gave me a glare before prompting me, "Go on Aryeh. Tell him why you're here." I gulped and shuffled my feet a little, staring at the dirt that had accumulated in the grout on the kitchen floor as I spoke.

"Um, I- uh." 'Fuck.' I had no idea what to say. 'Hey Dad, you remember Trystan? My best friend…with benefits.' That wasn't going to work. 'Trystan and I fuck like bunnies on a regular basis. Sorry I didn't tell you sooner, I just didn't think you were ready to know.' Neither was that. In the end I settled for the brilliant, "We were just messing around. It's nothing serious." That wasn't the whole truth, because, really, we did a hell of a lot more than messing around, and while we were a far cry from lovers, Trystan was the best friend I'd ever had, which made it serious, but I thought it was in my best interest to lie. "It's never happened before!" Okay, that didn't work.

"What exactly are you talking about, Aryeh?" My father's voice was poison.

"We…um. Well, you see, Tryst and I, um, well, we did some…stuff that…involved…sex." I thought I could get away with stopping there, but my mother's glare pushed me further, promising certain death if I didn't say more. "With each other." I felt like I was going to shrivel up and die under the weight of my father's eyes. His face hadn't changed at all, and if not for his heavy breathing, I might have been telling him it was going to rain today. When he spoke again, his words were calculated and controlled, a barely checked rage hovering just beneath the surface.

"Trystan, I want you out of my house, now. And don't think even for a second that I won't be contacting your parents." Trystan just nodded, sending a terrified glance in my direction before hurrying from the kitchen, practically running. When we heard the front door slam, my father turned on me. "You! How could you bring such disgusting and sinful activities under this humble roof? It's bad enough that we have to find out you're a fag, but then you shove it in our faces by shaming this household with your sinful deeds. We've let you have your way all this time, with your satanic music and your horrible clothing and your damned obsession with mutilating the body God gave you, but this time you've pushed it too far. You will be punished, starting with being grounded until further notice. Your mother and I will discuss this, and come up with further punishment, but until then, I want you in your room. I don't want to see your face!" I thought he had finished after a few moments of silence, and I was about to turn to leave when he continued, "You're going to rot in hell for this. I suggest some serious repentance to the Lord Christ our savior. He's the only one that can save you." He looked me up and down, disgust evident in his eyes and said, "Get out of my sight you dirty little whore."

I almost wanted to cry as I trudged up to my room, flipping my shirt around as I went. Maybe I would have if I didn't hate my father so much, and my mother for that matter, and hell, while I was at it, I might as well mention Christian, my older brother, because he would undoubtedly be disgusted when he found out. I shed no tears, though, because I hated them all, and when I opened the door to my room, there was a fourteen year old girl with black hair and brown eyes sitting on my bed, a sympathetic look on her face. My sister. "How ya holdin' up, Aryeh?" By the tone of her voice, I knew she knew what had happened.

"Okay. I feel kinda bad for Tryst, though. He really got the short end of the stick, what with getting caught here and all." Rika was the only one in our family who knew that I was gay before today, having figured it out on her own three years ago. We'd always been close, even before she knew, but once she did, our bond became this rock solid thing. We were unbreakable. She was surprisingly helpful for fourteen years, and surprisingly knowledgeable of the opposite sex, meaning she gave excellent advice when it came to guys. I loved her for it.

"You wanna talk about it?" She lay down on the far side of the bed, near the wall and patted the space next to her.

"Sure." I smiled and lay down next to her. "As long as you don't mind lying in a bed that was fully of sweaty man sex a few hours ago."

She wrinkled her nose and punched me lightly in the shoulder before smiling. "Even better." I had to laugh a little. "So, how'd they find you? Hopefully not in the thick of things?"

I sighed. "Nah, we were just waking up. We usually get up early enough to clean up after ourselves and put some clothes and then go back to sleep or go home, either one, but we just overslept today. I'm severely grounded now, and I got the repentance speech, but I don't think that's the worst of what's gonna happen. They're down stairs right now scheming. I think I'm gonna be in some deep shit."

Rika let out a boisterous sigh. "And here I was thinking I had it bad 'cause I bled on my sheets last night. Man Aryeh. You really put it all in perspective, don't you?"

"I hope you put them in the wash."

"What, the sheets? Yeah. I'm not that grungy." There was a long pause, a comfortable silence falling over us, and then Rika spoke again, her voice casual. "So I never did get what the deal between you and Trystan is. What are you guys?"

"We're best friends who know everything about each other and who have wild man sex, but we're not actually in love. Don't get me wrong, I love Tryst, but like a super hot brother with three T's who doesn't mind committing incest on occasion."

"Hmm…" She thought it over for a moment, rubbing her chin jokingly before replying, "Sounds like a damn sweet deal to me."

I smiled wryly. "Well it was. Now I'm pretty sure it's all screwed to hell." With this, I sat up, casting a wary eye around my room. The walls were painted black with random splatters of red and poems scrawled randomly in silver sharpie across them, my favorite being the lyrics to "Unholy Confessions" by Avenged Sevenfold. The ceiling was black also, but it was completely covered in posters, mostly of bands, but some of other random things. There was red lace draped over the bowl of my light, and the blades of the ceiling fan were painted black. I was glad I liked the place, because it looked like I was going to be spending a lot of time there.

Rika sat up next to me and let her head drop on my shoulder. "If you ever need anything that I can help with, I'm here. Just remember that, okay?"

I looked down at her and thought that I really might cry now. "Yeah. Thanks Rika. That means a lot to me." She just smiled at me.

We sat there in silence for what must've been hours, because when we finally snapped out of our reverie, the light coming in through my window was the deep red of sunset. My brother was standing in my doorway, a disgusted look on his face, and I was about to snap at him to leave when he snorted and said delightedly, "You're in some deep shit, you little fag." Then he was gone. I looked down at Rika to see if she was as worried as I was about that statement. She was.

I was about to ask her to go see if she could find out what he'd meant by that when the presence of my mother and father in my doorway made it unnecessary. "Rika please leave." My mother's voice was rough and she sounded like she had been crying. Rika obeyed silently, patting my shoulder as she went and sending an apologetic look over her shoulder as the door shut behind her. After a few moments of awkward silence, I sighed.

"Can I help you?" My voice was a little more irritated than I'd meant for it be, and I could tell my father was about to blow up at me for snapping at them, but my mother's comforting hand made it to his arm before he broke, and instead of yelling at me, he just said,

"We've decided what your punishment is going to be." He stopped and gave me a look that implied I should be responding somehow, though I had no idea what he wanted to hear.

"And?"

At this, my mother stepped forward, her voice strained as she spoke, and I could tell she really didn't want to tell me this. My heart sunk. "Aryeh, sweetie, your father and I believe that you're doing these…these sinful things because the influence of God in your life is just not strong enough, and we feel it is our responsibility to make God a priority for you. We want you to know that we still love you, even if you have brought sin into this house, and we're going to do everything we can to help you make your life right. And so, as your punishment we have decided that at the end of this term in school, you will be withdrawn from public school and put into Haymarck." She said that last part as if I were getting off easy, but everyone in town knew that Haymarck was the place all the scarily religious people sent their children. It was an Episcopalian boarding school located a mere five minutes from our house. My stomach felt like it was suddenly filled with molten led. "You'll still be living close to us, but you'll be able to put yourself right. We've contacted Mr. Harring, the headmaster, and he says that they can certainly accept you as a transfer. You'll start next Monday."

I thought I really might cry now, and I felt the tears stinging the backs of my eyes as I nodded, swallowing hard before answering, "Yeah. Great." My parents turned to leave then, and for a second I thought my father was going to keep his fucking mouth shut, but as he stepped out of my room, he fixed me with a serious glare and said solemnly,

"You know you brought this upon yourself." Then he was gone. I collapsed on my stomach and buried my face in my pillow, attempting to hold back tears unsuccessfully. I barely noticed as Rika slipped back into the room and lay down next to me, rubbing my back.

I must've fallen asleep like that, because the next thing I knew, my alarm was blaring in my ears, rousing me from empty dreams, and causing my heart to race with surprise. For a moment, I didn't remember any of what had happened the night before, but as I stood and stripped out of my pajamas, everything came flooding back to me and I groaned. I opened my closet door and surveyed myself in the mirror, trying to decide if I needed a shower, but in the end, I decided I was too tired to take one anyways and pulled out a pair of baggy black jeans, a long sleeved fishnet shirt, and a black wife-beater to wear over it. Pulling them on slowly, I pressed the "play" button on my stereo and was immediately assaulted with the pulsing beat of Atreyu's "Ain't Love Grand". I smiled and cranked the volume knob up to full blast, singing along when the words came.

Once I was dressed, I began putting on my various pieces of jewelry, starting with the rings. One thick silver band on my right thumb and four thin silver bands on my right ring finger accompanied by three matching thin silver bands on my left thumb and middle finger as well as one on my pinky. I fastened a black cuff into the shell of my left ear and then slipped a dangling cross into the lobe of my right, fixing two silver studs above it and three matching black rings in the shell. This done, I wrapped a thick piece of black silk with an obsidian cross dangling from it around my neck, fastening it in the back. Around my left wrist, I snapped a thick strip of leather, and on my right, I pulled on at least ten black gummy bracelets. Satisfied that I was sufficiently decked out in "satanic" jewelry, I opened my desk drawer and dug around, looking for my purple eye shadow and lipstick. When I found them, I applied heavy coats of both.

I looked at the clock then, realizing I only had five minutes until I had to leave and grabbed a brush, bringing it quickly through my hair. My hair was black and pretty short in the back, but as it came closer to my face, it got longer, and there were two chunks that I'd died shock white which framed my face perfectly, the tips ending at my chin. Needless to say, my parents hated it, but I was rather fond of the way it looked.

This done, I pulled on a pair of black tube socks and black combat boots, lacing them and grabbing my bag at the same time. I was out the door a minute later. I stopped in the kitchen to let my parents know I was leaving and was told I would be expected home no later than three forty, which gave me ten minutes to get home once the final bell rang. I shrugged in response and left the house, skipping breakfast altogether.

When I got to school, Tryst was waiting by my locker looking absolutely sick. I approached slowly and spoke only after I'd opened my locker. "So did you get in a lot of trouble?"

He shook his head, and his voice was quiet when he spoke, "No. My parents were perfectly fine with it. They didn't understand what your parents were so pissed about." He paused and gave me a searching look. "What are they doing to you?"

I sighed and shut my locker, turning around and leaning against it. For a moment I just stood there silently, watching people filter past us in the hall and letting the facts sink in once again. "I'm going to Haymarck next term." I laughed a little at the irony of it all. "Haymarck the all boys boarding school." I laughed some more. "How goddamned stupid do my fucking parents have to be?" I looked over at Trystan then, a wild grin on my face, because I knew if I let it fade I would break down crying. He looked absolutely dismayed.

"You're leaving?"

"Not really. I mean, the school's only like ten minutes from where you live. We'll still see each other sometimes."

"But…I…" He trailed off, and I thought he would cry. I was about to ask what he was going to say, but the bell cut me off, echoing shrilly through the halls signaling the beginning of the three minute passing period.

"Hey," I said softly, touching his shoulder. "We'll talk at lunch, alright?" He looked at me sadly, his bright cerulean eyes having darkened to match the grey blue shade of my own.

"Yeah alright."

I smiled gently at him and ruffled his hair. "Everything's gonna be fine, Tryst. Really." With this, I turned around and made my way to my first period Art history class. I hated Art History.

The first four classes of the day passed by slowly, the hours stretching on for what seemed like years, and when the bell rang signifying lunch, I almost let myself be overcome with excitement before conveniently remembering that I was now going to have to tell Eden and Ashe about my leaving as well. I frowned, standing up and slinging my bag over my shoulder. I flipped some hair out of my eyes, tucking one of the clumps of white behind my ear and letting the other fall back across my cheek as I walked.

When I reached the cafeteria, I noticed almost immediately that my usually colorful friends were all drooping, meaning Tryst had probably told them what had happened. My frown deepened as I walked over to our table and slid into my seat. "Hey guys."

Ashe sounded like someone had died when he answered, "Hey Aryeh." Eden didn't even bother to say anything, just cast a sad eye over me and tucked a few strands of long violet hair behind her ear.

When Trystan spoke, his voice was barely audible over the noise of the cafeteria, and he sounded ready to break down at any moment. "I told them what happened."

I smiled wryly. "I kinda figured." For a few minutes, we were all silent, and awkward moment of mourning settling over us as we ate. I couldn't help it; I had to say something to lighten the mood. "Guys, don't be like this. It's not like we're never going to see each other again. I can understand if we were like this on my last day, but I still have an entire week. And even when I'm not in school, I'll have weekends to see you guys, and I'll be able to call you all." I cast a pleading eye around the table, hoping they would take the bait.

Eden looked up at me then, her red painted lips stretching into a smile. "You're right, Aryeh! Instead of mourning, we should be living like fools, celebrating every day we have left." She pushed her chair back and stood, slamming her fist on the table with conviction, her bracelets chinking as she did so. "Come on Tryst, Ashe. We can mourn later!" Ashe looked up and smiled brightly, and Tryst did the same, though his was a little more strained. It was then I remembered why I loved them.

"Thanks guys."

Unfortunately for us, the rest of the week passed by in a blur, and Friday was upon us in a flash. When I got up that morning, my heart was heavy. I dressed slowly and listened to AFI's "This Time Imperfect" at least twenty times before I trudged downstairs. I was wearing my friends' favorite shirt of mine that day, in honor of them, and when I walked into the kitchen, my mother gave me a disapproving look before letting it drop. Of course, it's no surprise she didn't like it. The shirt was a no sleeved, black silk tank-top, and the bottom half was shredded beyond recognition allowing one to see the red silk shirt that was sown in underneath. I think she wouldn't have minded so much, though, if the back hadn't been cut out and replaced with black lace that matched the long, flaring sleeves. I was also wearing a pair of leather paints that were absolutely infested with zippers and buckles, and instead of my usual combat boots, I was wearing a pair of three inch platform boots with buckles up the side. My make-up was all black that day, and so was my jewelry, except for the rings, which were the same every day. The only real color on me other than the red was the spindly purple butterfly peaking through the lace at the small of my back. We had all decided that today was a day of mourning.

When I got to school, there were still thirty minutes until class started, and Eden, Trystan, and Ashe were all waiting by my locker. They were all dressed head to toe in black, and, somehow, they had all managed to dye their hair black. Tryst looked particularly stunning, his eyes coated heavily with an ebony shadow, bringing out their bright blue color, and Eden looked like some sort of gothic queen, wearing a long, black, Chinese silk dress. Ashe was also a portrait, though he'd gone for the bare look, dressed in a pair of leather shorts, fishnet stockings, knee high combat boots, and a lovely high collared crop top, one sleeve hugging his wrist and flaring our over his hand, and the other completely missing. I loved them all.

When I reached them, we exchanged kisses, each of them greeting me softly. It was almost like a ceremony, however corny it may sound, but for us it meant something. We'd all done the same thing two years ago when Alex was forced to move out of state in the middle of the year, but now, it seemed to mean more, our bond having strengthened over two years to become one of the most important things in all our lives. We didn't care that people were stopping to stare at us in the hallway, because today was our mourning day, and after it was over, we wouldn't say anything about it, we would just stay in touch in any way possible and deal with not being able to see each other every day as we had grown so accustomed to doing.

Once our greetings were made, we all sat down on the floor, the four of us making a wall of black against the cream colored lockers. Ashe was the first to say anything, his voice soft and sad. "Today is our last day, guys. Our very last day as four." Eden looked over to him and smiled sadly.

"Yeah it is." Then she turned to me. "I know we'll still get to see you on occasion, but it's not gonna be the same when we can't see you every day. I mean, it's not like you can just wander off campus, either. You have to have a chaperone to leave that place on the weekends."

"I know, guys, but we'll manage somehow." I cast my gaze to each of their faces then, and was met with three pairs of sad eyes, the most tragic being Tryst's. He seemed to be taking everything hardest, and had, in the past week, sunk into a sort of quiet depression. He tried to remain happy for us, and to cheerfully enjoy our last week, but always there was something dragging his smiles away and making his eyes look empty. I reached out to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him against me, letting his head fall on my shoulder. "I promise I won't let us lose each other completely." I pressed a kiss into his hair and then looked at the other two, telling them that comment was meant for all of them.

You would've thought that we would all die were we to part when the bell rang, all of our eyes were glazed in tears and we stood there all hugging each other for the majority of the passing period before breaking at the last minute and scattering to classes. I didn't see any of them again until lunch, and I felt like I was dying as each class passed by. When I entered the cafeteria, I was once again the last one there, and it looked like Ashe and Eden were comforting Tryst. When I walked over to them, Eden was looking straight at Tryst and saying, "It's now or never, hon."

I slid into my seat beside him and gave a small, "Hey, what's up?" For a moment, they were all silent, Eden and Ashe looking heavily at Trystan, making me think there was something I was missing, and then he touched my arm and asked quietly,

"Can I talk to you?"

I was a little confused, but nodded nonetheless. "Sure." I was even more thrown when he stood, but I just stood as well, muttering a goodbye to Ashe and Eden as I followed him out of the cafeteria.

When he stopped walking, we were outside the building, standing underneath a tree, Tryst leaning against the trunk, and me waiting a little anxiously in front of him. He looked a little nervous, so I reach forward and took his hand in mine asking softly, "What's wrong, Tryst?" He gave me a withering look and I added quickly, "Other than the obvious."

For a moment he stood there, gathering his thoughts, and then he spoke shakily, "I want to say something, but I don't know how to say it, and I'm not really sure if I should say it, but I think I need to."

"Just say it then Tryst, if you need to." I was really confused now, and I wondered what exactly he could have to say that would tear him up so thoroughly.

He was silent for a few moments more, examining my hand as he thought, and then he dropped it, severing all physical contact between us. "I think," he began slowly, still debating, it seemed, whether or not he really wanted to say whatever it was that was on his mind. Then he spoke again. "I'm in love with you, Aryeh."

For a moment, I stood dazed, unable to comprehend what he'd just said, and then it all sank in and I had to make sure I'd heard correctly. "What?"

He gave me a pained look, begging me not make him repeat it, but I had to be sure, so after a moment, he spoke again, his words slow and deliberate. "I'm in love with you."

Fuck.

TBC…

A/N: That was a pretty long chapter for me. I hope it flowed well. A few notes before you go: You will notice as you read this (if you keep reading) that all the chapter titles will be the titles of musical albums by different artists. This chapter's title is the name of Smile Empty Soul's self titled album, and is not mine. Also, the butterfly in the small of Aryeh's back is indeed a tattoo, if you didn't catch that, and I know he's too young to get one, but we're going to pretend the laws are different. Heehee. And, the last note is that, while I won't beg for reviews, I will inform you that I love getting them and would thank you profusely if I got any for this. So, thanks for reading and review if you feel like it!

Bye Bye.