Silence is Golden

January 23, 2011
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Bobby knew from a young age that he was very different from other children. His classmates could not sometimes know events that had yet to occur, hear the words people spoke to themselves as clearly as the words they spoke to other people, or make things happen by simply wishing for them. His devoutly Catholic parents had nearly prayed themselves to death when Bobby was younger, but now that he is bordering nineteen years old, they have more or less accepted that their son is not what most people would consider “normal.” At the very least, they no longer think he is the vessel of Satan. He figures that is the most progress one could hope for in such a situation, so he takes what he can get.

Bobby had kept his talents hidden from everyone but his parents until the first day of senior year when his best friend Colin had looked up at the cloudless, blue sky and had whined that he wanted a snow day. Bobby had not even fully processed the request before he called forth a veil of thick gray clouds to cover the town in several feet of snow. While Colin is not the most observant individual on the planet, even he understood that a random blizzard in mid-August was not due to natural occurrences. Colin took it all surprisingly well, despite his frequent Harry Potter jokes.

Bobby would like to blame that day for the predicament in which he currently finds himself. Before Colin knew of his abilities, such things never happened to Bobby, so it is entirely reasonable to conclude that Colin is the source of Bobby's many trials in life. Bobby is sure the bottle of tequila he and Colin had consumed only hours ago did not help the situation, but it had been Colin's idea to drink it in the first place, so it is still his fault. “This... was a very bad idea,” Colin says eventually.

“It really was,” Bobby agrees.

Colin is sprawled across Bobby's bedroom floor, and he tries to achieve an upright position before he abandons the challenge several moments later, deeming it too difficult. He sighs and says, “Harry Potter would be so ashamed.”

Bobby wants to frown at his friend, but that would require him to move from his comfortable position on his bed, so he settles for frowning at the ceiling instead. “Stop talking about Harry Potter. It's degrading,” he says.

Colin squawks in protest. “Harry Potter is amazing! You would be lucky to have even a fraction of his awesomeness,” Colin defends.

“You like Harry Potter?” Bobby asks.

“Yeah, man. I've read all the books about a million times, and I have all the movies,” Colin replies, “But it's sort of nerdy, so I keep all the evidence hidden under my bed.”

Bobby snorts loudly, and he wishes he had not been so drunk earlier. He does not even remember what he was trying to achieve when he called on his abilities, so he doubts he will be able to try it again later; he only remembers wanting to prove Colin wrong when the latter began teasing him about being “the worst sorcerer ever,” but Bobby is starting to suspect Colin had a point with that assessment. After all, Bobby is fairly certain his original objective was not to make Colin begin to divulge his deepest, darkest secrets in the manner one usually reserves for discussing the weather.

“You know what else I love? Spice Girls,” Colin says.

“Please stop talking,” Bobby pleads, “Because I really don't want to think about you dancing around your room to the Spice Girls.”

“Don't worry, I usually listen to them in my car. There isn't enough room to dance in there,” Colin says easily.

Bobby says, “I hope you realize how incredibly gay that sounds.” His eyelids start to droop despite his best efforts to stay awake, and he is slightly disheartened by the fact that he will not obtain much more blackmail material from Colin tonight.

“That's probably because I am gay, you idiot,” Colin replies.

Bobby surges back to full wakefulness so quickly that he is momentarily concerned for his health. He tries to roll onto his side in order to see the expression on Colin's face, but Bobby forgets about his tequila-consumption and ends up sprawled across the floor when he over-balances. Bobby can at least see Colin's face from this vantage point, and Colin's look of horror makes Bobby's heart freeze for a long moment. Bobby tentatively asks, “Colin? You okay?”

“No, I don't think I am. You weren't supposed to find out about that,” Colin admits.

Bobby frowns as he says, “I know I'm not always the most tactful person on the planet, but I wouldn't make fun of you for something like this.”

“No, but you would if you knew I was kind of in love with you,” Colin says with a laugh that lacks even a trace of warmth.

Bobby feels a mixture of sympathy and confusion when he sees Colin's terrified expression, and the situation is not nearly as amusing as it was five minutes ago. This is different than listening to Colin rant about his obsessions with Harry Potter, Spice Girls, and Sailor Moon; his secret fondness for panda bears and caramel candies; or his enduring fears of frogs and killer whales, because this is something Colin obviously did not ever want to admit. Bobby could tease Colin mercilessly about the whales or the preference for girl bands and generally get away with it, but Bobby has the potential to devastate Colin with this; it is too full of emotion and taboo to be taken lightly. “That's...” Bobby begins, but he trails off when he cannot think of anything meaningful to say.

“I know I shouldn't. You're my best friend, even though your kind of a supernatural freak, and you're probably really grossed out by now, but...” Colin babbles on and on, but Bobby tunes him out.

Frankly, Bobby is a bit surprised he is not feeling more “grossed out,” though the tequila could be to blame for that, too. Bobby knows he is going to be regretting his abilities in the morning when the awkwardness of the situation hits him full-force, but for now, he is strangely content. After all, he really is a bit of a supernatural freak, and he figures he is lucky anyone could care about him at all, much less love him. Bobby is fairly sure Colin has never considered the possibility that Bobby is Satan's vessel, at least. “Well, I've had worse offers,” Bobby says after a long pause. He finds the energy to lightly punch Colin's shoulder, and Colin gives Bobby a warm laugh in response.

Colin shifts his arm closer to Bobby's until their hands are touching; he doesn't try to thread their fingers together, but Bobby still rolls his eyes at the action. “You're trying to hold my hand. That's so gay,” he says, but he ruins the effect when he does not try to pull away.

Colin says, “You're letting me, which is also pretty gay.”

“When we are sober, we will never speak of this again,” Bobby vows.

Colin snorts and replies, “Yes we will.”

Sadly, Bobby knows Colin is probably right.



Several hours later, Bobby nudges Colin awake with an elbow to the ribs and asks, “Colin? Do you think I'm possibly the vessel for Lucifer?”

Colin huffs his displeasure at being roused from sleep, and his voice displays his exasperation as he says, “I think you've been watching too much Supernatural.”

Bobby says, “I'm being serious!”

“So am I,” Colin replies. He adds, “I'm pretty sure you would be able to do something more impressive than blow up the back of Lisa Farwall's skirt if you were secretly housing the soul of Satan.”

“Man, I should have known you were gay when you didn't appreciate that trick,” Bobby says with a sigh.

Colin laughs. “Go back t' sleep, you idiot,” he says.

“Bossy much?” Bobby demands, but he complies anyway.





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