Autumn leaves
by M. F. Luder
Religion had never been big in his house, Chrismukkah aside.
He doesn't remember the last time they went to church, or to the temple. He didn't have a Bah mitzvah or First Communion. They never spent Cedar in his house, until last year, and mostly because of Nana.
Seth isn't fluid in Hebrew, though neither is his dad, but he knows of some Jews who actually are. He uses the Lord's name in vain, had sex before marriage and pretty much lied to his parents a couple dozen times.
He's a sinner he doesn't believe he can change drastically.
And now, on top of that, he might have thoughts of sodomy. He sighs, eyes focused on the ceiling, and he tells himself he won't burn in hell.
However, the image of a small church he went to a couple of times when he was a kid comes to mind. Seth remembers the two steps leading to the black gates. He remembers the pointed tips and exes on the bottom. He remembers sitting there, on those steps, hands holding the iron bars and pretending he was a prisoner. His mom had gone to speak to the priest about one thing or another, and he had been waiting for her outside the priest's office. He walked out of the church and sat there.
It's strange the way he worries about his soul, about damnation now but not when he was having sex with Summer.
Maybe he will go to hell, because he really hasn't been a good Catholic, let alone a good Jew.
He snorts.
Great, now he's damned, twice.
He tries to convince himself that he hasn't been that bad. He was quiet and friendless for the first sixteen years of his life. God can't punish him for finally getting a friend, can he?
Well, not for having a friend, but for kissing such friend... well, that's something entirely different.
Kissing... Seth closes his eyes. The kissing last night was perfect. Amazing. It was-- everything.
The way they had been lying in the back yard, watching the stars as the night drew darker. And then, Ryan had turned around. Seth had seen his hand shaking as it moved to Seth's cheek. Seth's breath caught in his throat, and Ryan had kissed him.
It had turned his world up side down, like Ryan's own presence in Seth's life.
Seth has never read the Bible, not the whole thing, but he knows the fine pointers.
You shall not lay with a man. You shall not have sex with a man. And you shall not kiss a man like you kiss a woman.
So, yeah, three and God knows how many other laws have been broken.
Seth's so screwed.
Something so good, something so right, can't be wrong, right? Because, then God wouldn't have put it here, in him, inside him. This burning feeling that makes him think about Ryan, about how soft his lips are, or how his hand had touched Seth's cheek and neck.
How the kiss had felt like nothing before. How making Ryan smile makes Seth's chest swell. How only by looking at Ryan, Seth feels safe. How Ryan feels like home.
It can't be wrong, something this perfect. This good. Seth refuses to believe that. He won't take it.
"I'm sorry," Seth whispers, eyes still closed, and they start burning. "I'm sorry if I'm doing something wrong. I'm really sorry, but I can't help it. I don't know you, and many times I haven't understood your motives. I don't understand why you took grandma Rose, I don't know why, because she was really nice. And you made mom cry so much."
He lets out a shuddering breath.
"I don't know why Nana had cancer either. I appreciate the fact that she's doing better, but it hurt. Still, you did it. There's a reason, she said. I don't see it. She helped every kid she could. She taught dad to help people as well. And dad brought Ryan here to help him."
He frowns.
"You did that, you know? It was you who made dad bring Ryan. It was you, because who else could have told dad it was a good idea to bring a stranded kid home."
Things seem to fall into place. Seth sees it.
"And it was you who convinced mom Ryan was a good kid, a great kid. She loves him like she does, because I know she does, because you told her to. It was you."
He pauses.
"It was all you. Then... then it was you who showed him to me. It was you who made me love him, and you aren't supposed to be wrong. So, if you did this, then it's right."
Seth opens his eyes, staring at the ceiling, like staring at God's eyes.
"It's right, because you say so. It's right, because you did it."
That's Seth's answer.
He stands up in a jump, opening the door. He pauses again, looking over his shoulder at the white ceiling. He smiles. "Thanks."
He runs downstairs, past the kitchen and his parents having a cup of coffee as they talk about their day, and out to the pool.
He barely notices the brownish leaves falling from the nearby trees, as autumn arrives unnoticed by a boy with his heart in hand, and opens the pool house glass doors.
Ryan's sitting on the bed, as Seth often finds him, notebook over crossed legs, pencil in hand. He looks surprised as Seth stands there, panting, hand still on the doorknob.
Ryan tells himself his breath doesn't catch in his throat, and that his heart isn't racing because, why should it? It's not like he was waiting for Seth to enter his room with that face, with that clarity in those brown eyes.
He wasn't waiting for Seth to choose.
Because, last night Seth had chosen. Last night, when Seth stood up after the kiss and entered the house, not a single word to Ryan, Seth chose.
No, Ryan wasn't waiting for Seth. No, he wasn't. He really wasn't. Only, as Ryan watches Seth, a resolute semblance over him, Ryan can't stop his heart from leaping, and hoping that maybe the choice has changed.
He doesn't say anything, only waits, and stops his mind from thinking, Tell me you love me.
Ryan waits. Seth breathes. Ryan sighs. Seth lets out a long breath. Ryan doesn't really hear his heart cracking, because that can't be possible.
And then, Seth's closing the distance, kneeling in front of Ryan, and taking Ryan's face in between his hands.
Ryan feels his throat closing. That's not possible either. Except, maybe it is, because he can't breath. When Seth leans over for a kiss, Ryan's eyes close and he shudders.
Soft lips meet his, and Seth's hands tighten, and the choice is made.
Finished: May 30th, 2004.