Home Is Where The Heart Is

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"You don't need to kiss me out of pity, Nyle. Hell, that's more pathetic than hoping some guy halfway across the country would even consider dating me. I'll have you know, by the way, that I have seen his picture - he's all tough in his profile picture. I mean, I could never actually meet him, you know? I don't look like my picture very much - for one, I was alive. Did you know my eyes used to be blue? I think he'd get upset if he found out one of my most positive attributes didn't actually exist anymore. Just... pretending that everything is fine and nothing bad happened is good for me. Let me pretend I have some fake boyfriend in Arizona instead of teasing me with offering to kiss me."

Looking down at his knees, he nervously fiddled with his wrists bashfully - another thing he obviously had to lie about. He couldn't just admit he had two rather giant, pretty disgusting gashes in his wrists and expect this stranger to have some fetish for it.
 
He wasn't sure how much he had drunk last night, but evidently it was a lot if he was seriously considering kissing Leo. The boy was strangely adorable, and he'd have no problem kissing him sober if he was just... alive. There was something incredibly odd about kissing the spirit of a boy who'd killed himself. It was downright bewildering for one thing.

But right now, it didn't seem all that strange. He didn't see Leo as a ghost. He saw him as a cute guy with a low self-esteem who could do with a little affection. Besides, it was hardly out of pity when he wanted it too, was it?

So, after leaning across and tugging the boy into a quick kiss (deliberately making it short to not scare him), he managed a smile afterwards to show he was perfectly fine with it. "See? All done. It's not out of pity. How many times do I have to say you're cute before you believe me?"
 
"... a few more times might help," he admitted quietly, not after a very long pause, granted. While he immediately blushed at the action, a part of him only grew a bit mad once he realized it took him killing himself to finally get a kiss in real life... and it was definitely better than all the times he kissed the stuffed bear his ex had gotten him while they were together. Because of this he let out a snort in disbelief at himself.

"You... I hope you know that I didn't make you do this or anything, right? This was all on you, okay?" He confirmed after another long pause before letting out another flustered snort. "How embarrassing is this? My first kiss is with some punk from Philadelphia who doesn't even want me around?"
 
"Embarrassing? Some punk? Honestly, that's rude. Okay. It's not embarrassing, it's fucking memorable. And I'm not a punk; I'm... exotic and handsome and you can spend the rest of eternity gushing about how utterly superb a kisser I am-- I was good, right? Oh god, don't tell me I'm a bad kisser," he groaned, pouting for emphasis as he patiently -and unsubtly- waited for some glowing praise, even if he clearly did a good job of complimenting himself.

"Look, it was a good kiss. I enjoyed it. You're cute-- but if you still want to pursue that cunt from Arizona, go ahead. I'll take it as a personal attack on me if you do go message him, so it's totally your choice. You'll either make my day or make me lose faith in humanity completely. But hey, don't let me emotionally blackmail you."
 
"Why are you getting so angry?" He questioned, tensing in a mix of fear and discomfort as he sat up a tad from his lounged position. "You've got that guy from the town over, or... someone you find out in the Big City. Are you... jealous? You're jealous of someone I met yesterday? That's - I mean, that's sweet."

Rubbing his face wearily, he closed his eyes with an unnecessary exhale. You don't need to sigh when you can't breathe, after all.

"Seriously, why are you so jealous? We're... I mean, we're roommates, or do you just hate me being happy?"
 
"I'm not fucking jealous-- I mean, I'm kinda mad at you, actually. I called you cute and I kissed you and I've been nothing but kind, and you don't even consider me a potential option? You're happy to flirt with some stranger on the Internet and ignore the fact I've said to you what this guy's said? I dunno, it just kinda hit my confidence. It's at a real low already. Getting overlooked by a ghost is a new... experience for me. I'm not even good enough for the dead. How am I ever gonna be good enough for the living?" He countered heavily, dramatically resting his fingers on his temples, even if the massage barely helped relax him.

"Look, ignore me, I'm just fucking... hungover and stressed. You can go talk to your buddy in Arizona, that's... fine. Be happy, enjy yourself! Let's be fair, you ain't had the chance to since you died, right?"
 
Shamefully glancing away, he remained silent for a moment. Eventually did Leo let his eyes - which had settled on his toes - side glanced Nyle with a growing frown, immediately beginning to feel guilty. His entire romantic career was spent at a distance so how was he really supposed to react? The initial shock had worn off, only leaving him anxious.

"I-I... I just assumed you wouldn't be interested. You can go out and find some junk who can go out to places with you is all. I'm... I'm nobody's type, you know? No one thinks of me when they think of their dream guy. You seemed to hit it off with a cute guy and I don't blame you," he explained slowly, his somewhat flashy personality he had gained over the years diminishing to the way he was before his death; quiet and bashful sprinkled in with some light shaking.
 
"I'm not saying I'm bitterly jealous, and that I want you in my arms as my boyfriend. I'm not. I'm just saying it could have been an option, is all. I go for the same fucking types all the time and they don't end up making my life all that great. Last night was just... to let off steam and have some fun. The guy ain't a keeper. I'm looking for someone to date, not to screw once or twice. You're dating-material, and it briefly occurred to me that it'd be an option, that's all," he sighed, forcing his own eyes up and across to the ghost with a faint -but forced- smile of his own.

"But seriously, date this guy in Arizona. I'm just being dramatic. It's sorta my thing. I'm hyperbolic. I break a nail and it's like the end of the world, you shouldn't take what I say seriously."
 
"It's kinda nice, having someone be jealous because of me," he admitted as a slow smirk slowly twitched at his lips, a brow raising curiously. "You don't have to lie, just admit your feelings. I mean, I'm far from your typical type, right? That's what you implied, at least," he questioned before blinking a tad,pursing his lips.

"I just realize I don't really have a type, I guess. I mean, I really like big tits, yeah?" He blurted, grabbing at his chest for emphasis. "Like, the totally fake porn kind, you know? My ex had beautiful boobs, I always wanted to squeeze them in real life," he explained rather crudely, unaware that most people didn't want to talk about breasts, especially not a gay man.

"I guess I like beards... and people who can cook."
 
"Yeah, well... I haven't got a beard, I don't cook unless it involves shoving something into the oven, and hey, not to let you down, but I ain't got boobs either. So I'm so not your type either, am I?" He pointed out as casually as he could, even if the other's blurts were amusing to him. He found it incredibly amusing to have someone who at one moment seemed insecure and withdrawn, and the ext was able to babble about his turn-ons with no attempt of being subtle.

"See, I ain't into the whole 'girl' thing so your ex could have been like a model and I wouldn't bat an eyelid. Now, talk to me about some hunk like that guy from the Titanic, and I'm all for it. If we're talking about exes, my last boyfriend -you know, the one in prison- is gorgeous. And he's charming. He could probably talk me into doing anything, to be honest."
 
"Leo? He's got a baby-face," he scoffed, shaking his head in disgust as he set his hand on his knees. "Nah, I want someone who seems like he could protect me, you know? I guess my preferences are pretty split between guys and girls. I want some protective guy who'll beat someone up but I also want a girl who'll shove her boobs in my face until I suffocate. Haven't had either, though, unfortunately. Like, if I could have chosen another way to die I would have wanted to, like, be sat on."

His openness of his sexuality was quite telling. In his mind it wasn't something to really be uncomfortable about - after all, he lived alone so there was no one to tell him to be more bashful. Going as far as to shrug it off, he still offered a smile.

"I can't cook for shit. I lived off of ramen for three years... and Fruit. I'm not that awful."
 
"You're really open with this sexual stuff, aren't you? I like that, it's kinda cute seeing all this explicit stuff come out of such an innocent-looking face," admitted Nyle as he placed his hand behind his head and allowed a smirk onto his face. At the very least, Leo's explicit ramblings had distracted him from the horror show his life was right now.

"Though, considering how bewildered you seemed by me having sex out underneath some tree at midnight, I think I win. Mind you, I've had sex in a hot tub with someone in a band so I think that's the more interesting story. Hey, shame you aren't really... alive. If you enjoyed the kiss, you'd so enjoy sex, and hey, not to boast, but I'm pretty damn good at it."
 
"I... I dunno, I don't know how I feel about having sex," he admitted as he shyly looked at his knees, this being the thing to cause him to blush. "I mean, it's one thing to have a fantasy but it's another to act it out, y'know? I would want it to be with someone special, I guess. I want my... first time to be with someone I care a lot about - or a celebrity. I dunno, I guess I regret it. My mother always told me I fell in love easily but no one in real life really corroborated those feelings. The one good thing about me dying is that I was sort of forced to interact more, you know?"

With a heavy sigh after his babbled, he let out a groan and covered his blushing face out of embarrassment. It didn't help that Nyle could easily brag.

"You're lucky. Dating a guy in a band sounds fun - some rugged guy with a guitar or whatever. I guess there's more to choose from in Philadelphia."
 
"Oh, god, not a guitarist. No, drummer. Imagine the muscles-- he was gorgeous, too. Didn't work out. Story of my life. Sex was great though, so I at least have that to remember him by," he gushed, holding his own blushed cheeks at the memory of the few weeks he spent with the man. It was never going to last, he knew that, but he still missed him. Hell, he missed all his boyfriends-- even the one currently in prison. He craved a relationship that badly that he was willing to return to a man who had stalked him.

"Look, I'm here. We can kiss anytime you want, I'm sort of great at that. Forget about sex, it's overrated," he began, attempting to at least comfort him-- even if it was a blatant, flat-out lie.
 
"I wouldn't have anyone to compare you to, unless this guy from Arizona decides to show up and get heated," he teased quietly, though the banter only made his cheeks grow redder at just the idea of having sex with either guy. The talk flustered him so much so that he sank a bit into the couch to pull himself into a ball.

"I'm going to go sit on the porch," he finally insisted, sitting up from the couch just quickly enough to stumble a bit. "I'm sure you're tired of me babbling on by now, yeah?"
 
"Really, you're just going to wander off again and leave me alone? Don't get me wrong, it's up to you and I'm pretty used to you running off, but still, it's pretty annoying. We're having a good chat and you wanna leave-- why? Because I mentioned sex? You're pretty explicit about stuff, and I didn't run off," he muttered, his own good mood coming to a sharp end the moment the other seemed intent to escape the scene, frowning promptly because of it. All he wanted was to talk with him, have a friend who wasn't judgemental. It wasn't great being friends with someone who could disappear and ignore him if the conversation became too much for him.
 
"... you can come, I guess. I just need some fresh air," he replied slowly as he stared out the back window to the porch. "I know everyone in this town thinks I barely saw the light of day but I really enjoyed sitting on the chair out there, watching the birds or butterflies. Call me cheesy, I guess, but this sex talk makes me want to get fresh air. It would be nice to sit out there with you, actually, but... I'd wear a sweater if I were you."

Despite wanting to be alone, Nyle was the closest Leo was going to get when it came to having a friend. Leaning down to offer a hand for emphasis, he gave a weak smile to convince him.

"That's the one plus to being dead, I guess - I don't feel the cold, or heat. I'm sort of stuck at this perfect temperature and I hate it. I used to like curling into a ball under all of my blankets and pass out watching anime or something."
 
"Sex talk? You're the one that, you know, made it explicit. I was being relatively vague until you spouted out all that talk about your ideal girlfriend and how you'd have preferred to die and-- yeah. Your fault, dude. Not mine," he pointed out, grabbing his hand before the ghost could change his mind. After all, he'd rather sit out on the porch, freezing his ass off, than stay inside on his own. When he was hungover, he tended to crave company-- though he was social anyway, drunk or not.

"I'll have you know that I was pretty chaste until I got to, like, 18. Didn't even kiss a guy-- maybe a few pecks, but nothing passionate. I'm actually a pretty inexperienced guy."
 
"It's different," he insisted as he took a flop onto the old wooden swing, his eyes scanning the vast field in view. With his hands in the pockets of his shorts, he glanced over at Nyle for his reaction to the cold. He knew Philadelphia wasn't the warmest part of the country but nothing could top the -10 weather it often got in the small Minnesotan town.

"Like I said, I have fantasies but I'd never actually act them out," he continued as he lightly pushed the heavy swinging bench, humming quietly. "I'm not, like... some deviant. Even if I was, no one is going to want to fuck a hermit. I've come to accept it."
 
"Oh, and you're also dead. That's sort of a big reason why you're not going to get any action. It's not like you can wander down the street and get yourself a cute guy-- or girl," he pointed out, a faint smile on his lips as he tried to distract himself from just how sharp and surprising the cold was, awkwardly trying to warm himself up by wrapping his arms around himself-- not that it really worked.

"If you were alive, though, I'd so get things rolling between us. I've told 'ya that already, but I'm not entirely sure you believe me."
 
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