by
I’ve always heard you can never go home again, so that was my plan.
Fast forward fourteen years, and here I am in this church pew, at this funeral, forced to face what I selfishly abandoned when I was young and stupid. I should run like the coward I am, instead of pretending that seeing my best friends after all this time doesn’t remind me of the deepest pain I’ve ever endured.
But Henry is falling apart. He needs me now. I can receive absolution by being the friend I should’ve been back then. And I’ll forget the kiss that crushed my heart…
Trigger warning: Off-page Suicide.
Previously included as part of the following anthologies (2021 - Kiss, Kiss! Stories of Love and Cake / 2014 - Grand Adventure )
- 2 To Be Read lists
Publisher: Independently Published
Cover Artists:
Genres:
Pairings: M-M
Heat Level: 4
Romantic Content: 3
Ending: Click here to reveal
Character Identities: Gay
Protagonist 1 Age: 26-35
Protagonist 2 Age: 26-35
Protagonist 3 Age: 26-35
Tropes: Friends to Lovers
Word Count: 10,285
Setting: Funeral - Illinois
Languages Available: English
The Funeral: Part One
“What does a gunshot sound like from inside a car?”
Henry gave me an odd look before leaning in to whisper in my ear, “This is not the place, J.” I twitched away from him and jerked at the silver-and-blue-striped tie my sister Aggie had wrestled over my head in the parking lot. There was a pale-yellow spot resting over my diaphragm, and I became fixated on watching it surf my chest until I couldn’t resist lifting it to my nose.
It smelled old and warm and musty—like the odor seeping from an abandoned closet in an old lady’s house. I sniffed again at the yellow spot, but instead of the acrid residue of yellow mustard, there was the slightest hint of the vanilla lotion that always seemed to kiss Aggie’s skin. I picked at the spot with the corner of my nail until Henry slapped my hand away.
READ MORE“Was it loud? Did it hurt his ears before…” …the bullet killed his brain…?
There was a gasp from the pew behind me, and I guessed maybe I’d said that last bit out loud too. I rubbed my side where Henry had just twisted my skin like so much bread dough. I scooted a little farther away from Henry and his fingers.
“Was the window broken?” This time I did ask Henry. I asked him under my breath, just a whisper next to his hard jaw, the muscle there jerking in sympathetic cadence with the preacher’s liturgy. I watched color wash across his cheekbones before disappearing altogether and realized that Henry might actually know the answers to these questions.
COLLAPSELast First Kiss is a short story I wrote for a charity anthology back in 2014. Though the story itself is fictitious, it does contain autobiographical elements, and the grief and complicated feelings surrounding the loss I put these men through is real.
This is a bittersweet romance with a HFN, though in my heart I see them both curled up together in front of a fire, some foggy Seattle morning in their future.
LE Franks
