Corrupted Suicide

100% fiction!

Chapter 1 Robin

Bart’s apartment smelled like cherries. I always loved that. He smelled like pure guy but his apartment was girly and fresh. It was dark and quiet because he was still on his date. With a guy… weird. He’d been openly gay since we were boys so I guess it was okay with me but still it seemed weird for a guy that… masculine to be on a date with another guy. He has caramel blonde hair and bright blue eyes with really evenly tanned natural skin. He’s got a faded 6-pack and he’s a lot taller than me. I’ll admit; he is charming and gorgeous. If I had to go out with a guy it would definitely be him.

He hasn’t been in a real relationship for a while like I have so he doesn’t understand that I need to spend time with my girlfriend to keep our relationship smooth. He wants me over all the time and I try to as much as I can. I guess he gets lonely.

Anyway, I walked into the apartment and turned the light on with my free hand. I went to the kitchen and set the pizza box on the counter, opening the fridge to retrieve a drink. According to Bart who is always on schedule, he’d be home at exactly 8:00. I set two beers on the counter next to the pizza. Sometimes I felt like this was my apartment, except it was too neat. I can’t exactly say Bart is a germaphobe, but he is a bit of a neat freak. He likes everything perfect and sometimes he can break down and cry even if just the littlest things go wrong. This shouldn’t make him sound prissy because things go wrong for him all the time. He cries so much and I worry about him getting too lonely.

I walked from room to room looking for the remote and weirdly enough, it was sitting on the coffee table in plain sight. He used to be as loose as me but now he’s boring and, for lack of a better word, perfect. I sat around and watched Dyrdek Fantasy Factory for a little less than 10 minutes until, at 8 on the dot, he stormed through the door with tears streaming down his cheeks. He dropped onto the couch next to me, mumbling nothing way under his breath. I sat up and wrapped my arms around him, asking him what was wrong.

“That asshole only wanted me because I was cute. He didn’t even fucking read my profile.” Immediately I knew things were very wrong. Bart almost never cussed.
“It’s okay, Tholly. There are other guys in the world.”
“I’m so tired of this. You have no idea how hard it is to find a gay guy in this town. It is nothing like how you get girls.” Now I felt like kind of an ass. I’d never considered how few gays there were in the area.
“I’m sorry, Bart.” I said. He realized that I wasn’t apologizing for what happened to him but for not understanding. He leaned over and kissed my cheek gently. He smelled so nice. I know it’s weird but he smelled like cologne and guy. It seemed to surround me as he kissed me. I was speechless for a moment but he was already in the kitchen when I came to. I had no idea how he could be so nonchalant about kissing me. I thought about what had happened and tried to understand that he was gay and that was just him being friendly. Finally I got up and went to the kitchen. He was sitting at the island eating a piece of pizza and doing a crossword puzzle.

“Thank you, Robby.” This is my epiphany moment in my story telling. My name is Robert Conklin. I’ve got green eyes and black hair. I’m only 5 2” and I’ve got pale skin. I have like no muscle and I’m not the sexiest guy, but I’ve done pretty well. I’m not fat but I do have a small stomach from drinking like I do.
“For what?”
“Making me feel better. You are really amazing.” I grabbed a slice of pizza and my beer and sat down next to him. We talked about his date and he offered to drive me home because he hadn’t drunk any beer. That was my last meal there as a guest. The next day I went home from work and found my girlfriend, Bella, fucking with another guy…

Chapter 2 Bart

Robin had no idea what he did to me. Every time I saw him I just melted. Everything about him was “my type”. I have to admit I’m a lot more muscular than him. I have the killer baby blue eyes and short caramel hair. I’m tan and I have what I think they call a runner’s build. Slightly broad shoulders and lean abs. I’m tall. Well, 5.11 give or take with a faded 6 pack and a smooth body all around. But Robin,

Robin has soft black hair and amazing emerald eyes. He’s actually kind of a twink. He’s the whitest guy I know and he has almost no muscle at all. He’s also really thin and smooth. He used to be scary-thin because he never ate anything and I must say I was concerned, but in the last few years he’s filled out a lot more. Well, anyway, I have known that I was gay since I was about 14 which is the same year I came it to Robin. He was kind of “shielded” by his ‘guardian’ about sex and sometimes he’d want to touch me. That’s why I came out to him so soon. He’s been my best friend since we were like 4 years old and we tell each other everything. Well, that’s a lie. We used to tell each other everything. Oh, duh! My name is Bartholomew, but I go by Bart or Tholly.

I sulked up an empty sidewalk with my sweatshirt’s hood pulled far forward and looked down at the ground. Just like on any bad day, it was raining. Fortunately for me, I almost never had bad days. I always took my car to work except for this day. That morning there had been almost no clouds and I decided that, because it was getting into the colder days of autumn, I would walk.

I never once complained or rebelled against my boss. I did things at the music store that, as a cashier, just weren’t my problems. My boss’s name was Jake and despite being adorable, he was an asshole. On this day in particular, Jake was in a very good mood and so was I. In fact, I was incredibly happy. I didn’t really have a reason, I just was. At eight o’clock, the sky had clouded up and darkened as the day diminished into night. A handsome, muscular man came into the store and browsed. I hated to think it, but that was not my type. He looked like the jock type. I like cute guys with soft bodies and small stature. After only about 5 minutes man came up to the counter with a Cranberries CD. The sticker on it said that it was half off, but when I gave the man a different total my day flew into a different perspective. That day had happened so quickly.

I had a small argument with the man and then Jake came from the backroom and gave the man a discount. He bought that CD and then went looking for the free one that he’d been offered. Jake went into the back room and the man browsed. Everything was fine. Finally the man walked up to the counter and smiled. Then, he punched me in the jaw so hard that I flew back and hit the wall. I held it and tried to soothe the agonizing pain by rubbing it. The man left with his free CD and I got up.

“Hey, Jake?” I asked walking into the backroom.
“What?” he snarled back without looking to see that I was in obvious agony.
“Do you have some ice or something?”
“Why?”
“That guy hit me.”
“He hit y- oh.” Jake said getting up. I had tears streaming down my cheeks and I held and rubbed my jaw. Jake opened the mini fridge and pulled out ice with a paper towel. He put it on my face and had me sit down. He was being so nice.
“Quit crying,” he coaxed.

“I-I’m sorry,” I stuttered. He had short neat hair that was chocolate brown and plain brown eyes.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you, Bart. And please don’t be offended- Are you gay?” he asked.
“Since we work together, am I supposed to tell you that?” I asked. He shrugged.
“Yes, I’m gay. I’m out but it hasn’t really come up so-“ There was an awkward silence until from the counter there was a ring. I grabbed the paper toweled ice and left to go up front.
“Hey, Tholly. What happened to your jaw?” she asked smiling. Ashley Holloway has been my best friend for years. She has this crazy electric red hair and ruby lipstick.
“Oh, nothing really, just a little, hmm, skirmish.”
“Oh, are you okay? Where have you been? It feels like we haven’t talked in ages.”
“I’ve been around” I answered casually. I typed something into the computer and shoved the CD into a small black bag. “$21 even.”
“Thank you, Bart. Talk to you soon? I hope.”
“Yeah.” I answered smiling. I walked into the backroom again and Jake told me to close the door. I did and he came over to me and brought his lips to mine.

Needless to say- We fucked. Since it doesn’t really matter this scene is DELETED…
I was gasping, lying on the floor beside him. His expression seemed placid and I guess he hadn’t enjoyed it as much as I had.
“You should probably get back to work,” he said grabbing his jeans from the swivel chair. He pulled them on and grabbed his shirt from the desk.
“What’s wrong, Jacob?” I asked.
“Nothing. It wasn’t a good idea though. We shouldn’t have done that,” he sighed. I picked up my skinny jeans and boxers and put them both on. He seemed angry at me. How was I supposed to work with someone who I’d fucked?

I put my T-shirt on and grabbed my sweatshirt from the door.
“What’re you doing? You still have half an hour,” he asked. I shrugged.
“I’m quitting,” I answered.

It happened on a whim and I didn’t actually realize what I’d done until I was a block away with rain pounding me and my hood up, with ideas flooding. About a block away from my apartment building, I stopped at the grocery store and bought strawberries. The girl at the register had on a black pair of skinny jeans and high heeled boots. Her makeup was dark and Gothic. All I could think was: Good for you! You’re “rebelling against society”.
My entire life I‘d just gone with the punches and now I was here. The only way I’d ever rebelled was by being gay and it’s not like I had a choice. She bagged them and I left. I went up the stairwell trying to remember what time it was. When I got into my apartment I saw that it was already 10.

“What the fuck?” I mumbled to myself. I went into the kitchen and got out a blender. I pulled the tops from the strawberries after cleaning them and threw them in. Then I went to my bathroom and took everything out of the medicine cabinet. Nyquil, Advil, Ibuprofen, Anbesol, Wal-dryl, Aspirin, and all of my anti-depressants. I carried them into the kitchen and poured the bottles into the blender. I popped the pills in boxes out of there packages and threw those in. Finally I poured a quarter cup of sugar in, and blended it. I found my favorite glass in the back of my cupboard and poured it in when it was smooth. Just as I was about to drink it a thought occurred to me: Everyone writes a note. So I set it in my refrigerator and went to my bedroom to write a note. I didn’t really know what to say.

To whom it may concern,

I’ve had more than enough. I’m so tired of everything and I’m tired of being tired. I’m sorry if my letter isn’t satisfying but I’ve never committed suicide before. Oh and you’re welcome for not shooting my self because blood’s a bitch to get out of the carpet.
Goodbye

I signed my name at the bottom and read it again. It was no Edgar Allen Poe, but it was Bart Allen (That’s me). I set it on the island and got my smoothie out smiling. I hoped that it would taste good, despite the fact that it was just drugs, strawberries and sugar. Then of all the things to happen my doorbell rang. I went to the door irritated and opened it.

There stood a perfect boy. His silky, black hair and clothes were drenched in the rain that was still pouring outside. He was only 5 2” with sparkling green eyes that were bloodshot and full of tears. He shivered and stood waiting for me to say something.
“Hi, Robby,” I said shocked. How could I have wanted to kill myself with Robin still in the world?

“B-Bella ch-cheated on m-e.” From the way he talked I gathered he was also rather drunk. He had a soaked duffel bag sitting on the ground next to him and I guess he thought I would just let him come in drenched and let him stay as long as he needed. WRONG!! I slammed the door and went to the bathroom to get a towel. I went back out and he was sitting with his back against the wall crying.

“Robin, stand up.” He looked up at me looking like a sad child and stood up. (If you’ve ever played the Sims 2 and had someone die and then had a loved one plead with the Grim Reaper for their lives then you can visualize it perfectly. The Grim Reaper gestures for the Sim the stand as they’re on their knees) I had no idea what time it was again but the hallway was empty so I peeled his soaked tee off of his body and wrapped the towel around his shoulders. As I reached for the bag, he stopped me and hugged me. He was so cold and his wet body made me feel really uncomfortable, but I wrapped my arms around him anyway and let him sob drunkenly into my T-shirt. After about a minute of this I told him to go take a shower. He went in and I picked up the shirt and the bag and took them inside.

For those last 5 minutes I’d completely forgotten about the suicide thing. I rushed into the kitchen and tore up the note, throwing it into the trash next to the island. I poured the smoothie down the drain and washed the glass. I then dried it and pushed it to the very back of the cabinet. I did not have time to deal with the blender. When you’re dead you don’t have to worry about cleaning blenders. I tried to breathe for a second then got out a pizza we’d had the night before. I set it on the island and then went to the living room to unpack his bag. I threw everything into a pile in my bedroom feeling really great. Robin needed me. I think I might have even sung a little bit. Robin needs me, Robin needs me!! Finally it occurred to me that he didn’t have any dry clothes. Meaning he would have to wear my underwear. I found a pair of Calvin Klein briefs that I knew would look good on him and set them on the bed. Then finally I addressed what I hoped would be my last problem for the night; The blender.

I went to the kitchen and took it apart throwing the non-electronic thingies into the sink. I’d never actually cleaned it before because I rarely blended things. I didn’t feel like cleaning it but I rinsed it off.

“Hey, B-Bart? Do you have any clothes I could b-borrow, I think that mine might b-be too wet?” Robin asked coming into the kitchen with a towel around him. His body looked great. His belly looked really fun to poke (Yes, I know that sounds stupid). He certainly wasn’t fat, but he had a small belly, probably only from drinking.
“There are briefs on the bed for you.” I answered. Then he went back into the bedroom…

He didn’t shut the door. Now I want you to understand that this was not my fault. In fact, I think it was his girlfriend, Bella’s. If she hadn’t have cheated on him, he wouldn’t have gotten drunk and come to my place, therefore I would be dead and he wouldn’t be able to forget to shut the door. I didn’t feel good about “peeping” but when you’re looking at someone that perfect naked, it’s hard to feel bad. When he turned around I darted back to the kitchen. Then he came out and sat on one of the stools. He was a mess but he was a very hot mess. His hair was shaggy and he had a comatose expression. He was wobbly and scared me slightly being on a chair without a back.

“I’m kind of blue,” he managed to say kind of clearly.
“Why’s that, buddy?” I asked just to humor him. I knew he wanted to talk about it or else he wouldn’t have said that he was blue. Simple as that.
“I walked in on Bella and another guy. He had muscles. And a bigger dick.” He stopped. His confidence had obviously been murdered. “I saw too much.”

I laughed. I know it was cruel but I couldn’t help it. When I was done laughing (about 3 minutes later) I looked and saw that he was crying again. Which despite how horrible it was made me laugh again. The entire time that I’d prepared my death I didn’t cry at all, but now he was crying because he’d been outdone.
“You’re an asshole!!” he yelled through his tears. When he tried to get up he fell against the island. By now the humor had gotten drained out of the situation because of his shouting and I just felt bad for him. I grabbed him just he was about to fall over and I let him just kind of “be” in my arms. He felt so nice. His body was a lot warmer now and he had a raging hard on from the drunkenness.
“Robby, you should go to bed.”

“But, pizza?” he complained. I walked him to the bedroom and helped him into bed. God, he was bad with alcohol. I went to the kitchen and put the pizza back into the fridge. Then I left. I walked downstairs, went out to my car and drove to Rite-Aid. Robin needed pain reliever. He was bound to have a hangover in the morning and I needed to restock anyway because I was out for some reason. Oh, right! I’d tried to kill myself. I bought some Nyquil, Advil, Ibuprofen, Anbesol, and Aspirin…

Chapter 3 Bart

The sun shined in my eyes from my apartment’s window as I began to wake up. I blinked my eyes hard trying to get them adjusted and realized that I couldn’t move my arm. Robin was cuddled up against me and my arm was underneath him. I’d almost forgotten that he was here. I sat up as much as I could to see the clock and found that it was almost 10:30.

“Robin, wake up,” I said pulling my arm out from under him. He rolled over carelessly and used his arms to hold himself up. He looked at me groggily.
“Hi.”
“Hi, how’d you sleep, buddy?”
“I didn’t. I crashed,” he said dropping onto the bed. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and went to the other side to help him up. “I don’t need help!”
“Then get up.”
“I don’t wanna!” he whined. I sighed and sat down next to him on the edge of the bed. I ran my fingers across his shoulders from one to the other and rubbed them.
“Robin, please get up. I don’t want you to get like this.”
“Like what?” he asked back muffled with his face in the pillow.
“Sad and messy. If you’re just going to mope around my apartment I don’t want you staying here.”
“You wouldn’t really turn me away would you?” he asked me doubtfully.

“Yes I would! Now get up off your lazy ass. There is cold pizza in the kitchen with your name on it,” I demanded. He moaned. It was hot. He forced himself over and sat up looking tired and angry. His eyes were bloodshot and his hair was a perfect mess. I got up and went into the kitchen to take the pizza out. Robin followed soon after me and sat down wearing a pair of basketball shorts over them.
“I borrowed shorts,” he declared, grabbing a slice of pizza from the box on the other side of the island.
“I see tha,” I replied sitting down next to him. I slid my arm behind and he looked at me while he let a piece of cheese stretch from the bite in his mouth to the slice in his hand. It snapped and he set the pizza down wiping the sauce onto his (my) shorts.
“This is really good.”
“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” I grabbed a slice and did the same. Then, from the corner of my eye, I saw him reach into the trashcan. He pulled out a few strips of torn suicide note.
“Robin, what are you doing?” He didn’t answer; he chewed and looked at the note pieces with the thinking really hard expression.
“What is this?” Robin finally inquired. I didn’t really have anything to say for myself. He would never understand why I was going to do it. Hell, I barely did!
“A note.”
“To whom it may concern? Goodbye? Bart what is this?” he yelled, his voice mixed with anger and terror.
“Umm, it’s a note.”
“Bartholomew James Allen! What kind of note is this?” he screamed. Then, finally, I cracked.

“Robin, it’s a suicide note. I was going to kill myself last night but then you showed up outside and-” Robin wrapped his arms around me. It was so comforting. He told me it would be okay and that he couldn’t believe I would do that. His face was so close to mine and he was irresistibly gorgeous. I moved my mouth onto his and kissed him hard. It was an open kiss and my tongue explored his mouth as much as it could before he broke away.

“Bart!!!!!!!!” he yelped flailing backwards and hitting the half-wall separating the living room from the kitchen. He stood completely speechless with his mouth still open and his eyes trained on me. I got some splainin’ ta do.

“Robin.” I say back with the same yelp to my voice but a lesser volume. I didn’t actually make the accusing sound in my voice like he did because, hell, I had nothing to accuse him of. One second he’s being sweet and comforting and the next I’ve got him forced into a wonderful kiss. He closed his mouth, tightly closed his eyes and in about a second he’s against the half-wall with his knees to his chest and tears in his eyes. I got up and went over to him. I laid back against the wall and held him on my kitchen floor for almost 20 minutes. His head was on my chest and he looked so precious pressed up against me like that.

“I can’t go back to her. She wants me but if I go back she’ll know how easy I am.” Then I said the only thing I could really think of.
“You aren’t easy, though.”
“Seriously? Bart, I don’t like guys!” he said looking at me annoyed.

I sighed and admired his bare back and abs with my hand.
“Is this you saying you don’t like me?” I finally decided.
“No, Bart, I meant I’m not attracted to guys. I don’t like men like you do.”
“What if that’s what I meant? I can’t believe you don’t love me,” I said accusingly. Then, remembering from our teen-hood when he had thought he was in love with me, I added, “What ever happened to you being into me?”
“I wasn’t into you,” he mumbled back getting bored with our conversation.