AAHHHH FUCK.  Goddamn, this whole... “sex” thing didn’t turn out very nice at all.  I really wish I could’ve done better, but there’s no way this is going to change.  Maybe I’ll re-write it better later, but for now, I figure you all would rather have the actual chapter than mindless sex.

Oh, wow, there are a few Bright Eyes lyrics popped in here.  And the dreams – all of them, in this whole story – are very symbolic.  Just so you know.

***^Unappreciated^***

//This is the first day of my last days
I built it up now I take it apart climbed up real high now fall down real far
no need for me to stay the last thing left I just threw it away
I put my faith in god and my trust in you...\\

NIN, “Wish” (Is there meaning or do I just like the words?)

            Jimmy didn’t know when he had fallen asleep – it had been after the Johnny Carson rerun special, but everything after that had been delightfully blurred.

            He had dreamt that Nny, dressed in an unfashionable tweed suit, had been asking Jimmy why he had put him in the suit, and why Jimmy wouldn’t put it on himself.  And then, Jimmy fell backwards, and it felt like forever before he landed in Edgar’s arms.  Edgar was asking Jimmy about his past, and was carrying him towards the ocean – the waves crashed loud in Jimmy’s ears.

            He had woken up because Edgar had been drowning him in the ocean.

            The man in question had actually been asleep in front of the television, but Jimmy still felt a bit off when he looked at him.  Edgar’s hair was sticking up in places, and his glasses lay crooked on his face.  He wasn’t spread out on the couch – rather, he was curled up on the very end, as if he were afraid to make himself too comfortable.

            Jimmy still felt a little nauseous, but pushed it aside.  Struggling out of the blanket – this was the third time Edgar had covered him with that damn thing – he got up and stumbled to the couch.  The soft blue glow encased him, and he looked at the screen – by the look of the poorly constructed infomercials, it was probably about two or three.

            Jimmy’s stomach rumbled, and he figured that the twenty-four hour mini-mart would be open.  Groaning softly, he got off of the arm of the couch and staggered to the door, thinking that he would go and get some food to bring back.

            Edgar made a noise on the couch, and Jimmy looked at him.  He was staring through the blue glow, eyes barely visible through his crooked glasses.

            “I...”

            “I’m just going to get some food,” Jimmy muttered, unsure as to why he was informing Edgar.  This was his apartment; he could go where he wanted without telling anyone if he wanted to!

            He was in the doorway when Edgar suddenly spoke, in a ragged, sleepy voice.  “I had another dream.”

            Jimmy turned, and frowned.  “What was it about?  Did Nny tear me into more scraps?”

            “...I...  I dreamed that you got... got carried away.”  He was blushing in the glow, and Jimmy almost smirked.  “On a wave.  You got carried away on a wave.”

            This confession made the younger man frown.  “That’s stupid,” he growled, “What, is there going to be a tidal wave that I’m going to drown in if you don’t get me to higher ground?  I’ll be back later.”

            “Don’t go,” Edgar rasped.

            Jimmy snorted and was in the hall.

            “Please?”

            The ex-hostage was staring at him with an almost frightened look on his face.  Jimmy groaned and shook his head, coming back into the room and closing the door.  “Fine,” he grumbled, managing to stalk back to the couch and sit down.

            Edgar looked relieved, and Jimmy sighed, leaning back and making himself more comfortable.  The older man sat up slowly, adjusted his glasses and attempted to watch the infomercial.

            Jimmy had seen this particular program at least a dozen times before.  He could probably quote everything in it, word for word, if he was so inclined.  Because of this, he really couldn’t concentrate on anything that the man in the unfashionable tweed suit said.  Instead, he took to studying Edgar out of the corner of his eye.

            Edgar, he decided, wasn’t particularly sane.  He wasn’t insane, but he was crazy – how could he not be?  He had – supposedly – died, gone to heaven, and been sent back down to keep a fan away from his twisted idol.  No one would be able to handle that, he was sure.

            Edgar yawned a little, and Jimmy looked away, in case the other looked his way.  And, even if he had been able to handle that whole ordeal, he had to be crazy if he had come back, willingly, to a homicidal maniac’s apartment – the same homicidal maniac that kidnapped him and threatened to kill him.  The same homicidal maniac who idealized his murderer.

            Yeah, there was definitely something wrong with him.

            Jimmy nearly jumped when he felt a soft pressure against his shoulder, and he tilted his head around to look at Edgar, wondering what he wanted to bug Jimmy about now.

            But, no.  Edgar was asleep – the pressure on Jimmy’s shoulder was his head.  He looked more comfortable than before, when Jimmy had woken up, and the younger of the two knew that it couldn’t last; nonetheless, he felt a little guilty at having to end it.  He watched Edgar breath, picturing his lungs under his ribcage, and his heart going tha-thump-tha-thump.  He could see it all almost perfectly.

            Why in the hell was he even here?  If his story was true, he should be in heaven.  If it wasn’t, he should probably be in a psychiatrist’s office.  God, it was times like this Jimmy could use a smoke, but he couldn’t even do that without waking Edgar up.

            Unless...

            Jimmy shifted, moving his arm up and carefully wedging his hand between his shoulder and Edgar’s head.  He carefully moved so Edgar’s head was resting on his lap, instead of his elbow, and then let out a breath when he realized he hadn’t woken the older man.  He looked down at Edgar, who seemed to have taken well to his new arrangements, stretching out on the sofa a little more and tucking a hand under his chin.  He looked much more relaxed.

            Jimmy looked up as suddenly, as the commercials ended and the three o’clock religious zealot took the stage.  The sound was muffled, but Jimmy could hear it well.

            “Fornication!”

            Jimmy started to grin – anything that started out like that had to be entertaining.  His hand idly rested on Edgar’s head, unconscious fingers running through his hair.  All thought of getting a smoke was merrily wiped from his mind.

            “Fornication is a perverse act between man and woman; men and women who are not married in the eyes of our Lord!  It is a grievous sin that only heretics and blasphemers of our Lord participate in!”

            “Amen!” Jimmy crowed with the crowd on screen, giggling quietly.  Edgar shifted and mumbled something, before slipping back into sleep.  Jimmy pet his hair, watching the old, bald preacher raise up his hands and slam the Bible against his podium, in an impassioned sermon.

            “One of the only sins worse then that of fornication is homosexuality!  A plague upon our earth, these blasphemous nonbelievers participate in fornication, sin so much that there cannot be any redemption!”

            Jimmy did not say ‘amen’ with the crowd.

            “They stalk our playgrounds, our church gatherings, and our streets!  They live in our apartment buildings and our neighborhoods!  We must rise up!  Rise up and rid them of their sin!”

            “Amen!” the crowd screamed.

            “’men,” Edgar mumbled against Jimmy’s stomach.  The boy shoved Edgar off of him, eyes narrowed.

            Edgar yelped when he hit the floor, and sat up.  “What’s... where the hell am I?”

            “You’re in my fucking apartment, you fucking asshole!” Jimmy exclaimed, “What the fuck do you mean, a-fucking-men?!”

            “What are you talking about?” Edgar mumbled, straightening his glasses.

            “Thou shalt not lie with mankind, as with womankind: it is abomination!” the preacher screamed, “That is what the Bible says, and therefore it is law!”

            “What the hell are you watching?” Edgar grumbled, looking at the television with detest, “Turn this crap off.”

            “You’re the one who fucking amen-ed the preacher!”

            Edgar looked like he had been slapped.  “No I didn’t.”  He frowned, and shook his head, “I probably just heard them say ‘amen’ and... had a dream, or something.  I used to go to church, you know.”

            “No, I didn’t,” Jimmy muttered, turning the channel.  “Uh... Sorry, I guess, then.”

            “Why?” Edgar inquired, looking up at Jimmy, who was standing up and going for his cigarettes and a bottle of gin, “You shouldn’t drink.  That drug might not be out of your system.”

            “Oh, fuck off, you fornicator.”

            Edgar made a choked noise, and Jimmy giggled.

            “I think that’s the first time anyone’s ever accused me of anything sexual,” Edgar muttered.

            “That’s probably because you look like a fucking celibate,” Jimmy responded, lighting up and taking the bottle of gin with him to the couch.  He sat down, and looked at Edgar.  “You can get off the floor now.  I said I was sorry.”

            “What?”  Edgar looked around, and realized he was on the floor.  “Oh.”  He climbed back into the couch, and watched the morning news for entertainment.

            “Wanna drink?” Jimmy offered, tilting the bottle towards Edgar, who shook his head.  “Oh, come on.  You get all stressed out and then you don’t even relax.”

            “You’re an alcoholic, aren’t you?” Edgar asked, idly adding, “Would it make you happy if I did drink?”

            “No, I’ve just been drinking heavily since you showed up, and yes, it would.”

            Edgar sighed – a little dramatically – and took the bottle, taking a small swig.  He nearly choked, and Jimmy grinned.

            “Take it like a man, for God’s sake.”  Edgar coughed a little, and Jimmy took the bottle.  “Man, you’re a pussy.”

            “Shut up,” Edgar grumbled, “I don’t drink.”

            “You should start.  If you’re my guardian angel, you’ll probably need it.”

            “I’m not your guardian angel!  So stop calling me that.”

            Jimmy grinned, “I’ll stop calling you my guardian angel if you take another swig.”

            Edgar glared half-heartedly at Jimmy, who held out the bottle.  Sighing, he took the bottle and gulped down a rather large amount of alcohol, making a face.

            “Wow.  You actually believed me?”

            “Should I not have?” Edgar asked, frowning.

            “...I mean, I’m not going to call you my guardian angel anymore.  It’s just,” Jimmy took a swig, “No one really trusts me.”

            “I do, I guess.”

            The two were silent for a while, and Jimmy took a good quarter of the bottle out before he asked, “So, you believe in all that shit?”  He gestured to the television vaguely.

            “What?  That you can really lose all that weight with a medicine ball and lubricant?”

            “Naw,” Jimmy snorted, “I mean all of that religious bullshit.”

            “...Well, not his particular religious sermons,” Edgar said, slowly, “But... Well, yes, I’m a Christian.  I guess.  Raised that way.”

            “Well, you’ve been to heaven.  Is it all it’s cracked up to be?”

            Edgar sighed, and massaged his temples.  “...If you... like that sort of thing,” he finally responded, before grabbing the bottle from Jimmy and downing quite a bit of the liquid.

            Jimmy stared at the other, eyebrows raised.  “I thought you didn’t drink?”

            “I don’t if I want to remember things.”

            Jimmy, wisely, stayed quiet, and the two shared the bottle.  Between them, they had it finished and Jimmy was searching for another drink when Edgar started to talk.

            “My grandma was really Christian,” he muttered.

            “Hm?” Jimmy asked, idly, as he dug out a bottle of Jack.

            “She took me to church all the time.  So I would sit in church next to my grandma and hear the preacher go on a religious spiel about why humans were bad, and why we all sinned from the moment we were born.  And everyone would always say amen at these specific times...”

            Jimmy listened to Edgar talk.  He didn’t talk about anything particularly useful to the world, but what he did say was interesting.  He’d talk in a low voice about his childhood and would get a little cynical when he tried to remember his life before dying and after childhood.  He talked about his parents, who were usually so busy with charities or fundraisers or jobs that he was left with his grandmother most of the time.  His grandmother sounded like a total bitch.

            In response, Jimmy told Edgar about his father and how they would get into fights, and how his mother would call him James and how he only moved out of his parents’ house two months ago, but hadn’t heard from them since he had moved.  He talked a little about who he had killed, but Edgar looked a little pale so he stopped doing that.  Jimmy made a note that when he talked about climbing trees or going up the ladder to his attic, Edgar got a little pale and took an extra large drink from the bottle.  He filed the knowledge away for later, if he could even remember it.  They weren’t being very easy with the alcohol.

            Edgar flushed a little when Jimmy told him about getting beat up for defending a kid who had written some column about gay rights in the high-school paper, and laughed in a nervous sort of way that made Jimmy mildly suspicious.  They both had easily demolished the gin, which was starting to get down to the dregs

            Edgar started talking again, more fluidly, not minding if he pronounced a word wrong or maybe used the wrong word altogether.  “I didn’t do good in school, and my grandma got angry about it a lot.  I mean... a lot.  She didn’t like it because I didn’t know what I was doing half the time.  And I wrote lots of stupid things for the school paper and she said I didn’t know anything about the topics I wrote about.”  Edgar showed Jimmy the empty gin bottle and Jimmy, not one to miss a moment, procured two bottles of beer.

            “She sounds...” Jimmy slurred the words and laughed a little at his thick tongue, “Sounds really stupid.”

            “She wasn’t – that’s just it!”  Edgar laughed at Jimmy’s slurring as well.  “She was really smart – smart.  And so she knew what she was talking about, so I always just... listened to her.  She knew it and I don’t.  Didn’t.”

            They finished their beers, and Jimmy looked at Edgar, whose face was slightly flushed.  He looked kind of hot, really, in a nondescript way.  Jimmy shook his head and looked around, wondering if he should get another drink.  Edgar laughed to himself over something he had thought, and Jimmy got up to get himself a drink to knock the little voice in his head around a bit more.  Maybe it would stop giving him ideas.  Edgar declined having another drink, saying something about driving home.  That’s stupid, Jimmy’s little voice said as it was doused with beer, He doesn’t have a fucking car – doesn’t even have a home to drive to!

            “...Why are you hanging around, anyways?” he asked, a little curious and a little annoyed at the voice.  Edgar shrugged, watching the girls bounce on medicine balls.

            “I don’t know... it’s just easier this way.  I don’t have anywhere...”  Edgar dropped off and looked thoughtful – probably remembering that he didn’t have a car, so he probably could’ve had that last drink.

            “Oh, yeah, with the whole ‘dead’ thing, right?”

            “You still don’t believe me, do you?” Edgar asked, looking at the other with mild annoyance.  “I was telling the truth.”

            “I’m sure it was your version of the truth.  Edgar, you’re talking to a crazy person,” Jimmy explained, sure that he was crazy and that Edgar was too, “Crazy people don’t believe other crazy people.”

            “I’m not crazy,” Edgar interjected.

            “The way I see it, everyone’s crazy.”  Jimmy got up and walked over to the window, looking outside.  “This whole city is crazy.  Full of assholes and whores, all waiting to get their own personalized ticket straight to Hell.”

            “Jimmy, don’t fall out of the window again,” Edgar cautioned, obviously pretending to have ignored that last bit.  Jimmy grinned and leaned way out of the window in question, waving his arms around and spilling his beer.  “Jimmy!”

            “What if I fell, huh?  You’d sprout wings, I’ll bet.”  Jimmy made a fake move as if he were falling out, and Edgar jumped up, wobbly.  “You’d have to, after all, being an angel an’ all.  You’d sprout wings, and dive after me, wouldn’t you?”

            “You said you wouldn’t call me that!” Edgar pouted, again trying to ignore the question.  Jimmy cackled.

            “Naw, I said I wouldn’t call you a guardian angel.  Nothing about just calling you an angel.”  Edgar moved over and looked out through the glass, down at the sidewalk.  He looked like he was going to fall himself.  “You know how they didn’t even clean up that bottle of Jack Daniels?” Jimmy asked, and Edgar shrugged.  “That’s because there’s no street cleaners in this whole area.  Do you know that you’re in the shittiest part of this city?”

            “No,” Edgar answered.  “Will you get out of the window?”

            “Fine,” Jimmy muttered, moving away from the window and sitting down, cross-legged, on the mattress.  “Only if you come sit down here.  Or else I’ll get back up and jump.”

            Edgar sat down beside the other, only tipping over a little once.  “You know you really should just leave,” Jimmy said, a little quieter.  “Why are you even here?”

            “I don’t know,” Edgar mumbled.  Jimmy sighed, drinking down some of his beer before putting the bottle down out of the way.

            “You really need to figure out what you do know.  It’s getting annoying.”

            “I don’t think I can.  Everything is very... complicated.”

            A rare moment of perfect clarity made Jimmy remember grandmothers ranting about being stupid.  So, that was the issue at heart.

            Jimmy grabbed Edgar’s shoulders and shoved him down onto the mattress, glaring at him in anger.  “Edgar, is there a God?”

            “Y-Yes...”

            “One thing you know.  Edgar, are there good people out there?”

            “Y...Yes...”

            “Two things.  Edgar, does the Devil have better PR agents than God?”

            “No!”

            Jimmy grinned, “Well, you know stuff.  Amazing, huh?  I mean, you said you never knew anything but you’re sure of your answers right now.  Edgar, do you believe in war?”

            “No.”

            “Do you believe in Heaven and Hell?”

            “Yes.”

            “Do you believe in TV evangelists?”

            “No.”  A thought crossed Jimmy’s alcohol-addled mind.

            “Do you believe in love?”

            “Y...yes.”

            “Do you believe that hate is all humans are capable of?”  He could do it.

            “No-”

            “Do you want to live?”

            “Yes!”

            “Do you want to go back to Heaven?”

            “Yes!”

            “Do you want to die?”

            “No!”

            “Do you want me to kiss you?”  The words fell from Jimmy’s mouth before he could do anything to stop them.

            “Ye-”

            Jimmy cut off Edgar’s assent and kissed him forcefully, pushing him down into the worn mattress.  Edgar made a noise and Jimmy was only slightly surprised when he returned the kiss, allowing Jimmy’s tongue to run along his teeth and nudge his own.  The kiss was sloppy but appropriate, and Jimmy pushed his hips against Edgar’s, drawing out a moan.  Edgar’s mouth tasted like gin and his breath was coming in short, ragged gasps when Jimmy pulled away.

            “I’m not going to stop now,” Jimmy growled.  Edgar shook his head.

            “I didn’t say anything.”

            Jimmy descended down again and pushed his lips against Edgar’s, a little softer now that he knew Edgar wasn’t going to try and run away.  The gin swirled his mind and he slipped his hands under Edgar’s shirt, rubbing his sides and drawing the tight white shirt up over his head.  Edgar moved away long enough to get the shirt off, and then met Jimmy halfway, catching his lips and forcing them open with his own mouth.  Jimmy, caught off guard, pulled away for a second, before grinning ferally at the other, ducking down and nipping Edgar’s jaw.

            Edgar made a very strange noise, and Jimmy grinned, eyes narrowed and half-lidded, gin and whiskey spinning his mind into a frenzy.  He sucked and kissed and bit his way down Edgar’s neck, hands sliding everywhere they could; slipping against Edgar’s stomach and sides, rubbing the rough pads of his fingers against his nipples.

            Jimmy bit down on Edgar’s neck a little harder than he should have, but instead of getting yelled at, he was rewarded with a yelp and arched hips.  He sucked on the small wound and then leaned up to kiss Edgar again, hands working out the complicated buttons on the pants Devi had loaned out.  Edgar’s hands fumbled a little but got the buttons undone faster, and then made a muffled noise when Jimmy pulled his pants off, hooking his fingers under Edgar’s boxers and taking them off with the pants.  They fell on the shirt, completely forgotten.

            Edgar suddenly surged up against Jimmy, who tumbled backwards and was softly slammed against the bare floor.  He grinned up at Edgar, who was looking at him through cockeyed, dirty glasses.  “Wow, aren’t you just so in charge-”

            Edgar put his hands on Jimmy’s shoulders and leaned down, kissing him fiercely.  Jimmy brought his hands down against Edgar’s ass, pulling their hips flush against each other.  Edgar moaned into his mouth, and pulled away, looking at Jimmy strangely.  “Why are you still dressed?” he asked, and Jimmy laughed.

            “Are you drunk or something?”

            “How much did I drink?”  Jimmy grinned coyly and slipped out from under the other, who eyed him warily.

            “You know, generally I kill the people I fuck,” Jimmy said idly, slowly crossing his arms and pulling his shirt up over his head.  He could feel Edgar’s eyes, and saw that the man was looking at his pale skin, almost unaware of what Jimmy had said.

            “Do they know you’re going to kill them?”

            “Usually.  That’s why they fight more.”  Jimmy’s long fingers undid the buttons of his pants and bent over, rolling the tight material down his legs and finally kicking them off his feet.  Edgar looked surprised that he didn’t wear any underwear.  “Are you going to fight?” Jimmy asked, voice low, as he moved back over to Edgar.

            “I...”

            Jimmy sat in Edgar’s lap, legs splayed on either side of the man.  His eyes were half-lidded, and his grin turned into a more sultry smirk.  He put his arms over the other’s shoulders and leaned in, barely even touching Edgar’s lips before sliding forward.  Edgar let out a loud gasp and closed his eyes suddenly, causing Jimmy to grin again.

            “Oh, I don’t think you’re going to fight at all,” he murmured into Edgar’s ear, rocking his hips forward and eliciting a moan.

            Edgar’s eyes opened, and Jimmy stared at him with all of the concentration that a snake would have on a mouse.

            Then, Jimmy yelped as Edgar leaned forward, wrapping his legs tightly around the other’s waist as he fell back onto the ground.  “Hey, you dumbass, the floor’s fucking cold!”

            Edgar gave Jimmy a look, and the younger man gulped lowly.  Both of them were hard and it took all of Jimmy’s will power to keep from saying something about it.  Edgar seemed well aware of their situation, after all, and he didn’t want to seem... well, talkative, really.

            Now it was Jimmy’s turn to make funny noises and throw his head to the side as Edgar practically assaulted his jaw line, neck, and collarbone.  And fuck, the man’s hands were everywhere – massaging his shoulders, rubbing his back whenever Jimmy leaned up into him, gripping his hips and bringing them in as much contact as possible –

            Edgar muttered something as he moved down Jimmy’s stomach with his lips, and Jimmy had half a mind to ask what he had said.

            And then, everything exploded.  His eyelids clenched shut and his whole body moved up – wow, had it been that long since someone had actually gone down on him?

            “Fu...Fuck!” he cried, nails scraping at the floor desperately.

            “Shh,” Edgar mumbled against him, and Jimmy shouted again.

            “Whu...what the hell....are you doing?!”

            Edgar looked up at Jimmy, who managed to open his eyes.  Sweat plastered his bangs to his forehead and his glasses were a little fogged up.

            “Do you want to stop?” he asked casually, and Jimmy didn’t know how to respond.  “I mean, I will.”

            “N-... I don’t want you to stop, you’re just being...”

            “Mm?”

            Jimmy lost his voice for a second, wondering what, exactly, Edgar was being.  Sexual, yes, drunk, oh yeah.... uncharacteristic?  He barely knew the guy!

            “I dunno.  I’m goin’ crazy, man, fucking do,” the word was accompanied by a thrust, “Something!”  Another small jump and Edgar was kissing him again, hands in his greasy hair and body thrusting against his.

            Jimmy hissed, and reached a hand out, feeling out his pants.  He reached into a pocket and pulled out a thin, worn leather wallet, and Edgar stopped pushing against him, eyes following his hands.

            Jimmy pulled out a condom and a packet of lotion that he had gotten from a Motel Six.  He tossed the two items to Edgar, and then stared at the other.  “I’m not laying on the fucking floor with a hot guy unless you’re going to fuck me.”

            “I...”

            “Don’t tell me you’re fucking getting cold feet!” Jimmy snapped, propping himself up on his elbows and giving Edgar a glare caught somewhere between angry and seductive.  “Come on, Edgar...” he whined.

            “I’m just thinking about how drunk we are.”

            “Well, never let that stop you!”  Edgar looked slightly worried, and Jimmy cursed mentally, before pushing himself up so that he was sitting in Edgar’s lap once again.  “Edgar, come on... you’re really hot, and you actually give a shit about me.  If that’s not enough of a reason for me to want to fuck you, then you’ve got unreachable standards.”  Edgar looked like he was going to back out – he probably was going to, any second now – and so Jimmy leaned forward and kissed him.  He kissed his mouth, his jaw line, his nose, his forehead.  He kissed Edgar’s ear, and felt the other tense up; he grinned – Bingo! – and gently bit his earlobe.

            Suddenly, Edgar was kissing him and pushing against him, and Jimmy groaned in satisfaction.  There – he heard the foil tear, felt Edgar breath sharply against him – and Jimmy arched his back, shifting around in Edgar’s lap until – “Aaahn!”

            “Fff...”

            “Shhh, shhh- don’t talk, don’t talk.”

            Jimmy closed his eyes and went with it, seeing little flashes behind his eyelids and feeling heat race through his body – pure, chemistry-styled heat from all those little electrons and particles.  Too motherfucking long.

            He found Edgar’s mouth and kissed him sloppily, unable to really handle anything at the moment.  Edgar was making small noises, gasping and groaning right along with Jimmy.

            And the rollercoaster kept going up the hill – up, up, oh GOD this wasn’t going to end – and then...

            Edgar bit Jimmy’s lip a little harshly, but Jimmy was hardly at a point where he could care, not at that little ten second wait just before the final, ninety degree drop where people sometimes fell out of the ride.  “Nngh, Ed-Edgar...”

            The train’s breaks gave out, and the two both fell straight towards the ground, screaming.

***^^***