Bo is asleep before he makes it to the bed, curling up in the corner halfway behind the stereo on the floor.
"Man, now I'm never going to get rid of him." Rain tosses her phone onto the bed, it's vibrating.
Shane's back cracks under the weight of her.
He des not mind. Her eyes cannot leave Bo's fallen body.
"You know I hate it when you do that." He minds.
Rain turns back to him, no point in responding; she was done trying to cover it. It reminded him of all the other times before. How he hated it.
How he loathed it. How it made him want to cry.
Shane slips his cold fingers under her shirt. Fingers wander.
"Please just say it once." He begs, pulling her top off.
He drags his fingers along her panty line before pushing them in.
She is silent, unbuttoning his pants.
If she doesn't say it, Shane can't do it. Rain knows that, Rain abuses that. She looks at him, annoyed, pitying.
"I love you Shane."
The boy scrunches his face and pulls her pants off. Rain looks back at Bo as Shane forces the condom on.
She looks at Shane as he pulls her body closer to him.
She closes her eyes when Shane enters her. She can't stand looking at that.
Shane pulls her as close to himself as he can, wanting, needing her to only look at him, only love him. He wanted to badly, every time her eyes wandered to cover them up with the pillow and shout, "No!" at the top of his lungs.
In and out, not nearly perfect, appropriate for the juvenile age.
Hidden halfway behind the stereo Bo shoves his hand down his pants.
Shane never looks at him, Rain can't seem to stop.
Shane is no fool, that's why he never looks.
Rain grabs and pulls at Shane's hair, eyes closed or to the side. On him.
Shane mumbles things, nothing things. Rain is coherent; her words are easy to understand one-syllable words, utter topsoil.
Shane wants to hear his name; he always wants to hear his name. She never says it. Nor Bo, nor Daze, nor Penny, nor God himself.
Shane digs his nails into her, Rain bites his writs. Marks are left all over.
Bo bites his lip, eyes half open, half watching. One hand on himself the other fisting at the carpet, pulling up pieces of fuzz.
Sounds get louder.
Bo bites down harder on his lip. Rain bites harder. Shane digs deeper.
The carpet by Bo is stiff with old semen, stained more and more as time so righteously passed them by.
In the absence of Daze how awkward they became.
Cloths are pulled back on, fingers are wiped on carpet, and condoms are buried in the bottom of trashcans.
Bo shoves his fingers back in his mouth, trying to be more silent then ever from around the taste of himself. Closing his eyes again, he falls asleep.
Shane curls up into Rain on the bed, whispering an unanswered 'I love you' as they too fall asleep.
In the napping house, where everyone is sleeping.
"The Shang Dynast."
Rain scribbles out her previous answer and writes in the new one.
"Wait, what?" Shane leans over Bo, hovering over the paper in his lap. "Damn it." He mumbles, scribbling on his paper as well.
"Just take the damn paper!" Bo drops his paper on the floor between them and walks over to the window.
"Open it." Rain shouts from the floor, her and Shane's head are so close that they are nearly touching; it looks like their growing out of each other.
Bo lights his cigarette, leaning out the open window.
"You have drool stains all over your paper." Shane voices.
"You want to copy form someone else?" Bo snaps around his cigarette.
"Do people ever ask?" Shane asks just as innocently as he is.
"Go to hell." Bo turns back around and throws his cigarette out the window, he bit through the filter, what a waste.
People do ask him, that's why he stopped letting people barrow his pens. For the life of him he couldn't figure out what was so damn fascinating about an oral fixation.