Just Want You Back for Good, Part III

[hollycomb]

Ed stays in his room for a long time, trying not to think too hard about what happened. It's all wrapped up in trauma and anxiety that will fade, and it wouldn't be fair to Corbett to think of it seriously, to think about the fact that he didn't really enjoy losing his virginity to his high school girlfriend, how after all that buildup he found the whole thing to be pretty much a letdown, or about how a lot of the anime porn he ends up looking at 'accidentally' features two guys - the artists make the uke look so feminine, sometimes it's hard to tell! He doesn't think about the paltry number of girls he's hooked up with since high school, and how he's never been interested in calling them the day after, and why he's started drinking so much and how in the hell admitting to a love that seemed to spontaneously burst into being after watching Corbett suffer defeated a powerful ghost.

He wants a beer. It's nine o'clock in the morning.

When he heads downstairs the house is quiet, his parents already at work and Maggie at the kitchen table, an empty cereal bowl on the table beside her as she leans over one of her textbooks, cramming for an afternoon test. Ed doesn't disturb her, just goes to the fridge and stares into it, wondering if simply losing his appetite for food will help him get back in shape.

"Ed," Maggie says after he's been there for a few minutes. "Your melancholy is distracting me."

"Sorry." He closes the fridge and walks from the kitchen, freezing when he hears Corbett coming up the basement stairs. He can't avoid the guy forever, so he just stands there like an idiot in his boxer shorts and t-shirt, waiting to see how this is going to play out.

Corbett looks surprised to see him, and Ed is surprised, too, because Corbett is dressed and showered, holding all of the shopping bags he brought over the other day.

"Hey," Ed says, frowning. "Um. Where are you going with those?"

"I'm leaving." Corbett makes his face serious, and Ed hates that look on him, wants him to be soft and confused and non-critical. Not that Ed deserves any of that at this point.

"What? What - where will you go?"

"I just got off the phone with Harry," Corbett says. "I'm going to crash there for a few days, until I - figure something out, I don't know. Maybe one of my old friends from high school needs a roommate. I don't know - I just - I can't stay here."

"Corbett!" Maggie appears in the kitchen doorway. "What are you talking about? Of course you can stay here - Ed! What happened?"

"Nothing, just, I have to go," Corbett says, his voice pinching up as he hurries for the door with his bags. Ed follows, and Maggie grabs his arm.

"Ed!" she hisses. "What the heck is going on? He can't go stay at Harry's! Harry's step-father is, like, basically a Nazi."

"Oh, Jesus, Maggie, he's not that bad." Actually, he is pretty bad, racist and homophobic and all that goes with it. Ed pulls out of Maggie's grip and runs through the front door, chasing after Corbett, who is loading up his Land Rover with his things. Corbett looks at Ed like he doesn't want anything to do with him, now or ever again, and somehow, even after everything, this hurts worse than Ed could have imagined.

"Look, I'm sorry!" Ed says. "I didn't mean to, I was sleepwalking -"

"I don't care!" Corbett says with a dark little laugh. "It doesn't matter to me if you were sleepwalking or not. It still hurts. I'm not - I'm not going to put myself through this just because you're feeling guilty about what happened."

He pulls open the driver's side door and Ed thinks about jumping into the Land Rover with him, refusing to get out, but what the hell is wrong with him? This is good, this will jar him out of his waking delirium, not having Corbett hanging around, confusing him. Still, he grabs the car door and holds it open when Corbett tries to slam it shut.

"You don't understand," Ed says, trying to narrow his eyes, to get angry, but Corbett is crying now, and Ed's face softens like he's taken a punch.

"Yeah, I don't," Corbett says. "Because you won't tell me. You won't tell me what you saw, and you won't be honest with me about - whatever is going on. Fine, I don't care. Maybe I'll get Harry to tell me, or maybe I'll just forget the whole fucking thing. I thought - when I met you guys, because you were kind of - alternative, or whatever - I thought I could be myself around you. Well, being myself fucking hurt, and sucked, and maybe I should just go back to pretending I'm like the guys I knew in high school. It's easier to pretend, right, Ed?"

Corbett slams the door, and Ed steps back, letting him go. The Land Rover peals down the driveway as if Corbett can't get away fast enough, and Ed watches it speed down the street, take a left, and disappear. He feels like hopping in the van and following, just so he can scream at Corbett and tell him that he's wrong.

It's not easier to pretend, actually.

*

Ed spends the rest of the day on the living room couch, the house empty except for him, the blinds drawn. He curls up under one of the blankets that Corbett used when he slept in the basement and watches Ghostbusters and then Ghostbusters II. Fortunately, Maggie arrives home before his parents, so they don't catch him wallowing. Unfortunately, she's got Harry with her.

"Where's Corbett?" Ed asks, rolling onto his back on the couch as the two of them stare down at him, giving him such harsh, judgmental stares that they might as well be Mr. and Mrs. Zeddmore.

"You don't deserve to know where Corbett is," Maggie says. "He won't tell us what you did to him, but we know it's something bad."

Ed moans. "What time is it?" he asks.

"You know what?" Harry says. "You don't deserve to know what time it is, either."

"It's almost four," Maggie says, rolling her eyes at Harry. "Have you been here all day? Ed, what is going on? You have to talk to somebody."

Maggie drops down beside him on the couch as he pulls himself up into a sitting position, blinking and groggy and still too close to sleep to feel very defensive. Harry sits down on the other side of him and thumps him on the back.

"C'mon, buddy," he says. "Tell us."

"How am I supposed to explain this to you guys when I can't even figure it out myself?" Ed asks.

"Just try," Maggie says. "It's all got to do with Corbett, hasn't it? And what we saw in that house?"

"Yeah. I just." Ed winces. "I don't understand what happened there. At the end, when I tried to get, you know, the illusion of him - out of its echo. I don't think it was that weird that I got - so emotional, do you?"

"Of course not," Maggie says. "I was crying, too. Harry was shaking like a leaf. You can't really be this upset just because you cried when we thought Corbett was dead. We all cried when we found him in the bomb shelter, remember? Even Spruce!"

"It's not that," Ed says. He sighs. Maggie has opened the living room blinds, and grayish afternoon light streams in, the clouds outside heavy and promising rain. "It's the fact that it worked, even though it wasn't really Corbett. What happened? I think - I think I'm afraid that some part of that illusion that I spoke to was real, really a piece of Corbett that Daggett took from him forever. The way he looked at me when I told him I loved him - it was him, he recognized me, and then he saved us."

"Look, if Dean and Sam couldn't explain it, we'll never be able to," Harry says.

"I know. I think that's why I want to find them, really. Maybe they do know and they just didn't want to tell us."

"Well, what do you want to hear from them, Ed?" Maggie asks. "What would make you feel better? I haven't seen any signs that Corbett isn't a complete person since the Morton house, that he feels like he's missing anything. If anything, he seems more alive than he was before, what with having the courage to tell his parents about himself, and to stand up to you when you apparently treated him like shit."

"I didn't treat him like shit!" Ed says, though maybe he kind of did. "I just - did this sleepwalking thing."

"Sleepwalking?" Harry says, and Ed can feel him exchanging a glance with Maggie behind Ed's back.

"Yeah. You know, I've been having these nightmares, and I wake up feeling like I'm back there, and like Corbett is really dead, and it's all my fault. And, when he was here, well. I kind of. Confirmed his existence in the middle of the night."

"Oh, fuck," Harry says. "Is that - slang for, um - are we talking butt sex here?"

"No!" Ed says, shoving him.

"Not that there'd be anything wrong with that," Maggie says, reaching around Ed to punch Harry's shoulder.

"Hey, I know, totally!" Harry says, holding up his hands. "Just, uh. Well, now I don't know what to say."

"Ed." Maggie moans, and shakes her head at Harry. "Just - what exactly do you mean by - confirming his existence? In the middle of the night?" She raises her eyebrows. "'Cause, frankly, gay sex was the first thing that came to my mind when I tried to parse that, too."

"It wasn't sex!" Ed says. "It was more like. Uh. Desperate clinging?"

Harry and Maggie exchange a wide-eyed look, this time not trying to hide it from Ed, who stands and paces across the room, pulling his hands through his hair.

"It's not like I'm gay!" he bellows. "It's just - what happened, and everything. I'm obsessed with his neck."

"Oh - Ed." Maggie smiles a little, as if his identity crisis is cute.

"Well - it's logical that I would be! Right? 'Cause of what we saw? I just keep needing to, like, make sure, you know. That he's not hurt."

"I think if Dr. Bederman were here," Harry says, "He'd tell you to have this conversation with Corbett, not us."

"What's Corbett going to tell me?" Ed asks, glowering at the mention of Dr. Bederman. "He's in love with me, right? You're the one who told me that, Harry. That's what this whole fucking thing stems from, my guilt about not having feelings for Corbett and for having a hand in getting him killed, bound inextricably together, creating some kind of - elaborate gay sex illusion in my mind, kind of like what Daggett created. Right? I mean, it all makes sense."

"Ed!" Maggie jumps up from the couch. "If you really believe that, why are you dragging around the house like the world is coming to an end and losing your job because you can't even think straight enough to notice the color of a piece of paper in your hand?"

"Why don't you just go about this scientifically, have sex with him, and see whether you like it or not?" Harry says, lifting his shoulders. "I mean, we know he'd be up for it."

"Harry, for fuck's sake." Ed feels fully awake now, and he regrets being tricked into talking about this while still half-asleep. It feels like everything he feels lately is a trick designed to confuse him, something he can't trust.

"Though you'd better act quick if you're going to try that," Harry says. He scoots over to Maggie and slides his arm around her shoulders. Ed is so worked up about his own shit that the sight of Harry embracing his sister doesn't bother him.

"What are you talking about?" Ed asks.

"He told us he has a date tonight," Maggie says, speaking softly, as if she's wary of hurting Ed's feelings. "Apparently, when he decided to have a new lease on life after the Morton house, he not only came out to his parents, he joined some kind of gay dating website."

"He's already gotten a ton of offers," Harry says, as if suddenly he's an expert on Corbett's love life. "I mean, he's a good looking guy. Even I can admit that."

"That's very big of you, sweetie," Maggie says, patting Harry's chest, and Harry beams proudly, seeming to miss the fact that she's being sarcastic.

"So - great," Ed says. He feels like his insides have been sprayed with ice, but it doesn't matter. He'll just miss the attention, the adoration, the French vanilla coffee. It's selfish, and Corbett deserves better.

"Great?" Maggie says. "Really? You seemed pretty upset when he was leaving. If you're ready to be free of him -"

"I was just worried about him staying at Harry's house!" Ed says.

"Hey!" Harry says.

"I only mean, you know, because of your step-dad."

"Oh, well. Fair enough."

Maggie and Harry dash up to Maggie's room to hide when Ed's parents get home from work, and Ed heads down to the basement, not wanting to deal with them right now, either. He sits on the couch, where Corbett neatly folded the blankets he used before leaving, one of which Ed left upstairs on the living room couch. He hopes he won't get questioned about that later, and doesn't know what he would tell his mother. Well, I brought this blanket up here, um, because it smells like a guy I'm totally not in love with but who I happen to be temporarily obsessed with because of post-traumatic stress. It would probably be the last straw, his ticket to involuntary commitment to an institution.

He makes himself get off the couch, but then he doesn't know where to go. He paces the room for awhile, looking for anything that Corbett left behind, some evidence that he was here, real and warm and willing to let Ed lick that soft, soft skin at the hollow his throat. He ends up on the computer, frantically searching through gay dating websites, looking for the name Alan J. Corbett. All of the sites attempt to force him to join before performing a name search, and hell if he's going to do that right now. So he does a Google search for Corbett instead, coming up with only a few relevant results, mostly related to Corbett's high school football team. Apparently he was the starting running back during his junior and senior year. Ed reads his stats, feeling dazed. The only thing of interest that he finds on Google is a picture of seventeen-year-old Corbett in his football uniform and pads, his helmet off so he can grin at the camera, black war paint under his eyes. Ed stares at it for, like, an hour.

When he finally slopes upstairs he finds his mother in the kitchen, microwaving some soup. He almost turns on his heel, but then he realizes that he really kind of needs his mom right now. He gets a bottle of water from the fridge and sits at the kitchen table to sigh heavily until she finally turns from stirring her soup.

"Do you want me to make you something?" she asks. "Your father's working late and your sister's holed up in her room as usual. Do you know what she's doing up there all the time?"

"Studying," Ed says. He folds his arms on the table and rests his chin on the table. "And no, I'm not hungry. Thanks, though."

"Oh, honey." His mother walks over to ruffle his hair and press her hand to his forehead, checking his temperature. "What's the matter?"

"Mom." Ed puts his face in his hands and moans, feeling like he's going to cry. "I think I might be. In love with someone."

"Eddie," his mother says, sounding charmed, which is not what he needs right now. She sighs and pulls a chair over beside his, and Ed leaves his face hidden in his hands as she rubs his back. "Is it that boy who's living in our basement?"

"What!" Ed pops up to look at her. "I - how did you - I mean -"

"Eddie, it's okay! If it's our reaction you're worried about -"

"No, it's not - wait, why aren't you surprised? I've never been - gay before."

His mother shrugs. "I always kind of thought - maybe," she says.

"Why?" It's not like he played with dolls as a kid or anything. He used to decapitate Maggie's, but she didn't mind, because then he would bring them back as ghosts who tormented her other dolls, which was fun for her, too, somehow.

"Ah - that girlfriend you had in high school." His mother makes a face. "She was such a little - brat, and you always seemed so burdened by her. It was like you only had a girlfriend because you thought you should want one."

"Yeah, but." Ed feels like he could hyperventilate, like he's been living some secret life for years, unknown to even himself but apparently visible to his mother. "I've never, like, had a crush on a boy."

"Well, maybe you were just too scared to - access those feelings? Anyway, that's kind of a relief to hear, because we used to be afraid you had a crush on Harry."

"Ew, God! Mom, no! Never! Ugh - that you would even -"

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry! It's just that you were always more devoted to him than any of the girls we saw you hanging around with. But, like I said: a relief. Not that you didn't a crush on a boy, but that you didn't have a crush on - that boy."

"No, I - wait, though, what's your problem with Harry, anyway? Why can't you and Dad give him a break?"

"Oh, you know we like him fine. We just wouldn't want to see our son having romantic feelings for someone so - squirrelly."

"That's not fair," Ed says, thinking of Harry, upstairs with Maggie.

"Listen, let's not get into the great Harry debate right now," his mom says. "This other boy - he's the one you have feelings for?"

"I don't know." Ed groans, uncomfortable with this conversation already. "Yes. It happened when he - almost got hurt. It was too sudden, though, I mean, how could it be real?"

"Feelings can change in intensity very quickly," his mother says. "Especially romantic feelings. There's usually some kind of catalyst that gives you a sort of - sudden clarity about how you feel about someone. Take your dad and me for example. We were just friends, you know, back in our hippie days. We were hiking with a group of people and I sprained my ankle. Everyone else was high, freaking out, making me anxious enough to cry, but your dad pushed them all out of the way and carried me on his back, all the way back to our camp. Before that, I liked him well enough but hadn't really given him much thought. But by the time we got back to the camp I couldn't wait to kiss him."

"Ew," Ed says. "I mean. Thanks for that. But it's too fucking late, for me, I think. I - did some insensitive things, and now he's out on a date with another guy. He'll probably sprain his ankle and fall in love instantly and never think about me again."

Ed's mother laughs. "You're so dramatic!" she says. "Eddie, if you think he has feelings for you - and, frankly, I strongly suspect that he does, based on the way he was looking at you yesterday - go out and tell him how you feel. Unless he already knows?"

"He probably suspects," Ed says. "But - I've kept him in the dark about a lot of things. I guess I wasn't ready to deal with it."

"Well, act like a grown-up, Eddie, you're almost twenty-five years old. Apologize for whatever it is you did, tell him how you really feel about him, and don't dawdle. He's a good-looking kid, and so sweet. I guarantee you, someone else will come along for him if you wait too long."

Ed jumps up from his chair, panicked at the thought, then freezes.

"Wait," he says, frowning down at his mom. "What am I supposed to do - crash his date?"

She shrugs. "Yeah," she says. "I think so."

"Now who's being dramatic?" Ed says, and she grins.

"Eddie," she says. "He was really cute, and he was melting all over the kitchen counter every time you looked at him. If you want him, go get him."

Ed bolts up the stairs, dreading what he has to do next, but he steels himself as he approaches Maggie's bedroom door. He knocks as loud as he can, trying to drown out the sound of squeaking bedsprings. He can hear gasps and frantic whispering inside, and he grits his teeth, trying to avoid any mental pictures.

"Guys," he says. "It's me. I need to ask you something."

More frantic whispers, some shuffling, and when the door opens, Harry pokes his head out and frowns. Ed has to look away, one glimpse of Harry's messed-up hair and flushed face more than he wanted to see.

"Ed, what the fuck?" Harry says. "We're kind of -"

"Don't say busy," Ed says, holding his hand over his face. "Just don't say it. I, ah, was just wondering if either of you knows where Corbett was going on his date?"

"Are you for real?" Harry says after a pause. "Why?"

"Are you going to go after him?" Maggie asks, her face appearing beside Harry's. She's grinning, equally flushed and messy-haired, and Ed groans, looking away again.

"Yeah," he says. "I think I am, actually."

"Oh, Ed! That's great, I - I really think you should, he seemed so sad. He was going to the movies, the seven o'clock showing of Poltergeist at the old theater downtown, you know, the one that does the classic horror movies on Wednesdays?"

"The guy's taking Corbett to a horror movie? About ghosts?" Ed squawks, so upset by this idea that he turns to Harry and Maggie without thinking, jerking his eyes away again when he sees that Harry is nuzzling Maggie's cheek, already disinterested in this conversation.

"Corbett is totally not ready for that," Ed says, heading for the stairs.

"Go rescue your damsel in distress, Zeddmore," Harry calls.

"Shut up, Harry!"

Ed jogs down the stairs and grabs his keys, then the doorknob, thinking about Corbett in the dark of a movie theater, trying to pretend everything is fine while his heart pounds, wanting to leave, wanting Ed.

"Eddie?" his mom calls before he can make it out the door.

"Yeah?" He really doesn't have time for any more homespun advice, no matter how good it is. His mom pokes her head out from the kitchen doorway and frowns.

"Did you say - is Harry here?"

"Uh. Gotta go, Mom!"

He flings himself out the door and into the van. Maggie and Harry can handle this without him. He has his own tumultuous love life to see to.

*

It's after eight o'clock by the time Ed reaches the theater, and the ticket vendor looks at him like he's crazy when he asks for a ticket to the seven o'clock showing of Poltergeist, not the nine o'clock showing. For all he knows, he's way too late, Corbett already in there making out with some experienced gay guy who knows what he's doing, healing him in a way that Ed couldn't manage to. But he's all worked up now, and he wants to carry Corbett home on his back, and to kiss him when they get there.

The theater is dark, and the movie has already reached the part where Carol Ann's mother is screaming at her, telling her not to go into the light. It's not crowded, and once Ed's eyes adjust he's able to spot only two sets of men who are sitting together, one of them a pair of high-school aged kids sitting in the back, laughing at something they're reading from an iPhone, and the other two up in the fourth row. As Ed walks closer, he recognizes Corbett's hair, and that feeling of satisfaction - looking for Corbett and finding him, safe - lifts him off the ground. The guy sitting next to Corbett doesn't look like anything special, and Ed cranes his neck to see his face as he creeps down the aisle to sit beside Corbett.

Corbett's date notices him first, and sits forward a little to frown. He's blond with glasses - glasses, Corbett has a glasses fetish, almost definitely because of Ed! - and he looks kind of stuck-up, and too skinny. Corbett turns when he sees his date looking down the aisle, and his eyes bug out in a way that makes Ed a little uncomfortable in this lighting, with all the horrified screaming in the background and everything. He hurries to Corbett's side and presses up against him. Corbett rears back, his mouth falling open.

"Ed?" he says. His surprised look fades to an angry one, and his date just seems confused.

"You know this guy, Alan?" he asks, whispering. Ed scoffs at the use of Corbett's first name. Amateur.

"Uh, yeah," Corbett says. "This is my friend - Ed, what you are doing here?"

"I need to talk to you," Ed says.

"Ed - oh, Ed, this is the famous Ed?" Corbett's date says. "Dude, he's spent the whole fucking night talking about you." The guy stands up and shakes his head. "Fucking - enjoy each other. I'm out of here."

"Wait -" Corbett says, but he doesn't sound like he means it, and when he turns back to Ed, his blush his visible even in the glow from the movie screen. "Great, Ed," he hisses, and someone a few rows back shushes him. Corbett dips down further in his seat, putting his hand over his face, groaning.

"What did you tell him about me?" Ed asks, so puffed up by the fact that Corbett speaks of him at all, to anyone, that he feels like he could float up to the ceiling.

"I was complaining about you, mostly," Corbett says, glaring at him. "And how shitty it is to have feelings for a straight guy who enjoys torturing you by leading you on. So what the hell do you want now?"

"Corbett," Ed whispers. He tries to press his face to Corbett's, but Corbett backs away, looking at him like he's crazy. Ed settles for grabbing Corbett's wrist, and he doesn't try to pull free, just stares at Ed, waiting for an explanation.

"You're really cute when you get angry," Ed says. "You know? You should do it more often. Especially when it comes to me. We both know I fucking deserve it."

There are more hisses of 'shhh!' as Corbett continues to stare at Ed, frozen in place, his mouth hanging open. Ed half expects him to just lean forward and kiss him hard, and when Corbett yanks free and flings himself out of his seat, heading toward the exit, Ed is too stunned to move for a moment. When he regains his bearings he follows, running after Corbett, who walks straight through the movie theater lobby and out into the parking lot.

"Corbett, wait!" Ed says, chasing him down to the end of the sidewalk that circles the theater. It's a stand-alone building on an access road across from a shopping center, and the parking lot is filled with cars but otherwise empty, all of the seven o'clock showings still running. Corbett sits on the end of the side walk and puts his head in his hands, breathing hard, covering his eyes with his palms.

"That guy was my fucking ride," he says as Ed sits down beside him, panting.

"Fuck, I'm out of shape," Ed says. He bumps his shoulder against Corbett's, and Corbett leans away. He folds his arms over his knees and hides his face.

"Don't cry," Ed says, slipping an arm around him. Corbett bucks him off and looks up to glare at him.

"I'm not crying," he says, and it's true. "God, you think you've got me all figured out, huh? Like I'm just this dopey sap who'd do anything for you? Guess what, Ed: I would have kicked your ass in high school. But I hated being that guy, it wasn't making me happy. I wanted to try to be - nice, and thoughtful, and I didn't want to hide the real reason I picked on guys like you."

"The reason?" Ed says, leaning closer. He's not dissuaded, mostly because of what his mom said about Corbett melting for him. His mom is rarely wrong about anything, and it's usually one of his least favorite things about her, but when she's on his side, it gives him a kind of strength that nothing else can.

"The reason," Corbett says. His eyes are still narrowed, but he's not backing away now, Ed's nose just half an inch from his. "The reason is that - I wanted those guys - the ones I really got after - I, I wanted them to be my little, you know. Boyfriends."

"Little?" Ed says, raising his eyebrows. "I'm, like, barely an inch shorter than you."

Corbett smiles. "Yeah, well," he says, muttering. Ed leans closer, touching his nose to Corbett's, his heart pounding.

"Is it different?" Ed asks, peeking up into Corbett's eyes, afraid to really look at him until he does, and remembers that Corbett loves him so much that when Ed told him that he loved him back, it had curse-breaking power, something that reached out and bitch-slapped a whole other plane of existence.

"Is what different?" Corbett asks. He rubs his nose against Ed's, and Ed's eyes close slowly, his heart beating hard but not fast. He feels calm, safe.

"Kissing a guy," Ed says. He opens his eyes again. "Is it - different?"

"It's so much better," Corbett says, almost whining the words out, so eager to show him.

"Hey, homos!" someone shouts, and they both look up to see some teenage kids walking from the movie theater, three guys, sneering with laughter. "Get a fuckin' room, this isn't a gay brothel."

Ed feels like crawling into a hole and dying of embarrassment, though he's also pretty pissed off that some dumbass kids just ruined the moment. Corbett stands up, and Ed does, too, thinking they're going to run to Ed's truck before this altercation erupts into violence, but Corbett doesn't head for the van, just walks toward the kids, who shrink a little bit when they see the size of him.

"What was that?" Corbett says, and two of the three start to walk away, but the shouter, a skinny kid in a black t-shirt and jeans, stands his ground, probably hoping to impress his friends.

"I said, faggots need to be fags together behind closed doors," he says. His friends laugh and whoop, but they sound kind of nervous now.

"Oh yeah?" Corbett is standing two inches away from the kid now. They're about the same height, but the kid looks like a twig compared to Corbett. He takes a step back.

"Is that why you and your fuck buddies are leaving?" Corbett asks. "To get behind a closed door?"

"Fuck you," the kid says. "Go suck your boyfriend's dick and get out of my face."

Ed isn't sure why, but he really didn't think Corbett would hit the kid, and when he does, the cracking sound of Corbett's fist connecting with the kid's jaw makes Ed and the kid's friends let out 'oohs!' of automatic sympathy. The kid crumples to the pavement, hissing and holding his hand to his jaw. Corbett takes one look at the other two and they bolt. He sniffs and puts his shoe against the kid's ribs, giving him a shove with his foot, more of an insult than an injury.

"Mind your own business, you little shit," he says. He walks back toward Ed, who finds himself suddenly kind of terrified of Corbett. The time for kissing seems to have passed, and he leads Corbett toward the van, his hands shaking when he unlocks it.

"So," he says when they've been driving for awhile, Corbett still seething and silent in the passenger seat, Ed with both hands on the wheel, driving like a little old lady and jumping in his seat every time a car pulls up next to them at a red light, afraid those punks will try to mess with them again. "Um. Were you gonna kiss me?"

"Ed." Corbett shuts his eyes and sighs. He looks over at Ed, his face softening. "You still want to?"

"Yeah."

Corbett tells him where to go, which turns to take. Ed has never made out in the van before, and he wouldn't have known where to park. He doesn't ask about who Corbett might have brought here before once they arrive, in the somewhat secluded parking lot of a closed drycleaning place, close enough to the main road to hear the traffic, not the kind of place that brings to mind psychos with hooks for hands. Corbett crawls into the back and Ed follows his lead, still shaking.

"You really want to do this?" Corbett asks, leaning back against some of their equipment while Ed sits on his knees, waiting to know what to do. He nods.

"I really do," he says.

"Then get in my lap."

Ed hesitates. This is the thing he's always been afraid of, this moment. He was afraid even with the girls, though his reasons for hesitating then were different. He was afraid of disappointment, and not really knowing what to do, having no natural sense of direction in that area. Now, he's afraid that this will either feel the same way that did, or that the top of his head will blow off. Based on the fact that he already has an erection just from hearing Corbett order him to get into his lap, he's leaning toward the latter, but that doesn't make it any less terrifying.

"Just," Ed says as he straddles Corbett's lap, feeling too exposed, and, yeah, kind of small, though physically he's not that much smaller. Corbett's hands slide up his back and pull him in closer, his eyes locked on Ed's and his mouth set in a line.

"Stop thinking about and do it," Corbett says. He sighs. "I mean. If you even really want to." He shakes his head like he's losing his patience. Ed can hardly blame him. He lets himself relax a little, growing accustomed to the feeling of Corbett's body between his legs, his hands spread across Ed's back.

"I have to tell you something first," Ed says. He leans in and brushes his nose against Corbett's. They both sigh, eyes sliding shut, and Ed can smell the movie theater candy on Corbett's breath: Snow Caps, Twizzlers.

"What, Ed?" Corbett asks. "You don't have to tell me how I died. I asked Harry. It - explained a lot. The neck thing."

"The neck thing," Ed says. Corbett was right; Ed saw it differently than the others did. He won't ever be able to articulate how horrible it was, not even to Corbett himself. He touches the hollow of Corbett's throat with two careful fingers, feels him swallow. "Did - did he also tell you what really happened to Daggett?"

"What really happened?" Corbett goes tense. "What - what do you mean? Is he still out there, have you guys -"

"No, no. God, Corbett. I'd never lie to you about something like that. No - it's, it's just the way we got rid of Daggett. I told you - we all told you - that Dean shot him with those salt bullets, but, um. It was more complicated than that."

"More complicated like how?" Corbett frowns and sits back. Ed doesn't like it, any amount of distance between them, that's been the problem all along. He scoots forward a little, shifting in Corbett's lap, and touches the tip of his nose to Corbett's again. Corbett takes a deep breath and lets it out, his hands moving down to Ed's hips.

"There was the echo," Ed says. "You dying, over and over, and all we could do was stand there and watch. Then Harry, he had this idea, that I could bring you back to yourself, snap you out of it, because - well, he thought you had feelings for me. So I walked over to the echo, and I was trying to get through to you, to get your attention, and nothing was really working, and I was fucking - freaking out, blubbering and crying like an idiot while I watched you die, and the only thing that worked, the thing that got your - the illusion's - attention, was, um. That I told you I loved you."

Corbett just sits there frowning slightly, then raises his eyebrows as if he's waiting for more. Ed moans. He presses his face to Corbett's neck, and suspects that it will never get old, taking comfort in the clean heat of his skin, just there, right over the point of his pulse.

"I think it came true or something," Ed says, keeping his voice quiet, still hiding his face. "As soon as I said it - you - you looked at me, and it was you Corbett, I don't know how to explain it, it was some piece of you that the ghost had pulled out. And, and you disappeared, and Sam Winchester told us that you appeared down in the bomb shelter, and it was you who kicked that ghost's ass, who saved all of us. Only, you know, the real you, your body, was lying there on the ground next to Sam, still unconscious." Ed sits up and pouts a little, waiting for Corbett to react. He doesn't look angry about the lie, or frustrated with confusion the way Ed has been since this happened. He's looking at Ed's mouth.

"That's what I keep dreaming about," Corbett says. "That we're back in that house, and you're telling me that you love me. And I believe it, in the dream, but then when I wake up I know it can't be true."

"You don't know that," Ed says. He lowers his mouth over Corbett's, can feel his breath, the heat between his lips. When Corbett kisses him it's soft, just a test, and he pulls back to look up into Ed's eyes again. Ed kisses him back just as tentatively, and it's nothing like what he's done before, frantic slobbering to hide his anxiety or inexperience. His lips buzz in every place where Corbett's have touched them, and he wants more of it, so he kisses him again, and again, a little more firmly each time. Corbett lets out a shaky breath and pushes one hand up under Ed's shirt, making him shiver as he strokes his fingers up Ed's spine.

"Yeah," Ed whispers, and Corbett takes his chance to part Ed's lips with his tongue, both of them groaning when they lick against each other. Ed scoots forward, and Corbett pulls him closer, and it happens in the exact same instant, the moment when they both can't take it anymore, and suddenly they're kissing hard, moaning and panting and rubbing their tongues together. Ed can't wait any longer to mouth at Corbett's neck, and Corbett bucks up against him when he does, rubbing his erection against Ed's ass.

"Fuck," Ed whispers, because, Jesus, does he like that a lot more than he expected to. He grinds down against Corbett, and his whole body sort of pulses when Corbett groans, his head tipping back and his hips working up against Ed again. Ed licks at Corbett's neck, bites and sucks and suddenly understands the point of hickeys, though he really doesn't want to leave a mark, not here on this perfect, untouched skin, so he pulls on the collar of Corbett's shirt until he's got access to the slope between his neck and shoulder, and focuses his efforts there, making Corbett curse and writhe.

"Tell me," Ed says. He grabs Corbett's hand and brings it to his crotch. Corbett actually whimpers when he feels how hard Ed is for him, his eyebrows arching. "Tell me - what you'd think about. When you thought about me."

"W-what do you mean?"

"I mean when you were jerking off." Ed blushes, but Corbett's pupils get so fat, and he knows he just struck gold. Corbett nods slowly, his fingers closing around the bulge between Ed's legs.

"I - I thought about, um." Corbett's blush: Ed wants to lick it off his face, and he tries to, feeling crazed as Corbett rubs his cock through his pants. "About - sucking your dick, there in the basement, in the Ghostfacers meeting room, after everyone else had left."

"Shit," Ed whispers. He moves to Corbett's ear, sucks it into his mouth, can't believe he never tried this before, not with another guy but with Corbett, can't believe he even existed before he had this to make him feel alive. "More, tell me. Tell me how it went in your head."

Corbett moans, embarrassed, and Ed reaches down to touch his dick through his pants, to offer inspiration. Corbett whines and nods, and Ed kisses him, never wants to stop, almost glad that he's never been kissed before, not like this.

"Um," Corbett says, his lips moving against Ed's. "I - I'm cleaning up after the meeting, and you're on your computer, doing research, and suddenly you turn to me, and you look very serious, you know, almost kind of mean, and you say, 'Intern, get over here.'"

"Yeah." Ed likes this already, and he rubs at Corbett's erection and down lower, finding the heat of his balls. Corbett shouts, nods, bucks up into his hand. "Keep going," Ed says.

"I - I walk over, and you say, 'Get on your knees.' And I do it, because I know what you're going to ask, and I want it, Ed, I want it so much. You sort of - narrow your eyes a little, and spread your legs, and you say, 'Suck me off, intern. Swallow every drop.' I'm so, so ready to do it that I get all flustered as I open your jeans, and you sort of laugh, and Ed, you're so hard for me, and I moan when I see it, your cock pointed at my face."

"Fuck." Ed can't take it anymore. He rips his jeans open and takes down the zipper, pulls out his cock, feeling none of the reservations he did when he showed it to the girls, just wanting it out, Corbett's hand around it. He gets that quickly, and throws his head back, hissing out a thousand exhilarated curses as Corbett begins to stroke him, skin to skin. "Keep going," he says again, whining the words out.

"I, um, oh, Ed, yeah - I lick you sort of timidly, because I've never done it before, but you're so impatient, you love the way my mouth feels, so you p-put your hand on the back of my head and push me down, and you make me take it, and I just, fight my gag reflex, because I want to make you feel good, and you're moaning and I love it, I want you to lose your shit and fuck my mouth, then you do, your hips start twitching and you're holding me in place, grunting and everything, and your cock is so fucking hard in my mouth, and I'm drooling for it, my chin is all wet -"

Ed comes with a scream that's some non-word combination of fuck and Corbett's name. He falls forward against Corbett's chest when he does, still groping at his dick, and when Corbett pushes up on his ass, Ed knows what he's doing, and nods. This is what he's wanted, being with another guy, the urgency and the familiar territory, this telepathic understanding, though really he doesn't think it would have been like this with anyone but Corbett, that he would have unlocked this vulnerable part of himself without everything that happened, the good and the bad. When Corbett takes his cock out Ed pulls at it eagerly, cursing when he feels how big it is, how hot. They kiss for awhile, and Ed can feel Corbett swell, he knows that feeling, and fucking loves recognizing it on someone else, on this boy he loves.

"Ed," Corbett cries, the single syllable of his name broken on Corbett's lips. When Corbett comes over his fingers Ed whispers fuck yeah, fuck and kisses him, licks his blushing cheeks, feels like the top of his head has not only blown off but left the atmosphere, never to return. He's glad; he can live without it. He puts his head against Corbett's shoulder and just breathes hard for awhile, sated and sleepy, Corbett's arms winding around him.

"Why do you even like me?" Ed asks, and Corbett laughs.

"'Cause your glasses are all fogged up," he says, grinning and helping Ed rub them clear. "And 'cause your mom calls you 'Eddie.' And 'cause, I don't know. During my interview, when I told you that I saw the flyer you put up at the mall and thought, 'huh: where do ghosts come from?', Harry looked at me like I was nuts, but you grinned, and, ah, it was just - kinda funny, because." He laughs. "Because I only went to look at the flyer 'cause I saw you putting it up. 'Cause I thought you were cute."

"You have a glasses fetish," Ed says, mumbling, feeling close to falling asleep like this, against Corbett's chest.

"No way," Corbett says. "Or, anyway. I didn't, before I met you."

They slump to the floor of the van, spreading out on a couple of empty duffel bags, comfortable enough with the moon glowing through the van's back windows. They kiss and talk for a long time, getting each other hard again, rubbing it out slow this time, Ed watching Corbett's face closely when he comes, Corbett watching Ed's. They're sticky and tired and the van smells like sex, and Ed has never ever been close to this kind of happiness before, not once in his entire life.

"Tell me about more of your fantasies," he says when he starts to fall asleep, because he doesn't want to sleep, even though he knows, with Corbett close like this, he wouldn't have nightmares. Corbett laughs.

"The rest of them are cheesy," he says.

"Yeah? Like what?"

Corbett moans in complaint but kisses Ed, rubbing his nose against Ed's, smitten, gorgeous in this light, his tanned skin sort of glowing in the moonlight. Ed feels drunk, and never wants to leave this place, this moment, the first time in his life when he feels like he understands every stupid love song, every dramatic euphemism for romance, the flowery poetry he had to read in high school: everything, everything.

"Well," Corbett says, laughing at himself. "There's a continuation of the blow job one, actually."

"Oh, yeah?" Ed scoots in closer, and hugs Corbett to him though it's hot in the van, the windows fogged. "Tell me."

"Well, um. Okay. After I blow you and everything, and swallow - ha, and look up at you, I'm expecting you to say something like, 'alright, intern, thanks.' But you're, like, 'Corbett,' really soft and impressed, and you pull me up and kiss me, and we sort of, um, migrate over to the couch, and I guide you down onto it, and. Ed, shit, are you really going to make me say it?"

"Yeah, 'cause, listen." Ed beams. "That first morning, when you went to the career center? I, um, spent most of the afternoon with my nose buried in the sheets on that couch. 'Cause, you know. They smelled like you. So, there. You can't be embarrassed now."

Corbett grins, kisses him and moans into his mouth. "Ed," he says, whispering, his eyelashes brushing against Ed's. "Okay, fine. I put you down on the couch, and you're all relaxed, 'cause you just came in my mouth, and we kiss for a long time, and you tell me, 'Corbett, please,' and I just know exactly what you mean, and I nod, and there's lube, somehow, and, shit. Do you want to hear the rest?"

"Fuck, yes." There's no reason to treat him like an innocent: Ed has been a connoisseur of anime pornography since middle school. Few things will surprise him.

"Well, I, um, I'm really careful with you, and you're all - appreciative of this, and moaning, and kissing me, and sort of - trembling. And when I'm finally, um, inside you, we're both kind of stunned by how good it feels, and how - right, and - mmph."

Ed kisses him so he won't have to continue, both of them blushing hard now. Part of Ed wants to do it right here in the van, with their Ghostfacers equipment gathered around them, and the moonlight, and the taste of candy on Corbett's tongue, but they only get as far as Corbett climbing on top of Ed before they're both grinding out another orgasm.

"Fuck," Corbett huffs, his eyes closed against Ed's cheek. "I've wanted this for so long."

"Me, too," Ed says, and Corbett laughs, but it's true. Not only have the past two days been packed with two years worth of frustrated longing, he's wanted this for a long time, the kind of sex those anime characters were having on his computer, panted breath and sweat-slick skin, the air around them full of little ah!s and ngh!s and hahhs. He's wanted to feel it that much, this much, to never want to stop kissing, to never want to let go.

They listen to Coast to Coast AM on the drive home, and the subject is vampires. After what they've been through, vampires seem cheerful, and they laugh at the callers who are clearly crazy, claiming that they drink blood.

"You think Sam and Dean would ever call in to this show?" Corbett asks.

"I don't know," Ed says. "If I'm honest, I don't really care about finding them all that much. I think I might be done with looking for trouble."

"So no more ghost hunting?" Corbett asks. He actually sounds sad, and the prospect of quitting makes Ed sad, too. He shrugs.

"What I'm thinking is this," he says. He came up with the idea in the aftermath of his third orgasm, while Corbett was kissing his face. "Instead of ghost hunters, we become ghost busters."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, seriously. Lots of people think they live in haunted houses, don't they? We could go in with our cameras and do a thorough investigation, try to help them. And, you know. Charge a fee."

Corbett laughs. "Yeah," he says. "I think I'd like that more than law school."

"Plus, we'd be helping people. So it wouldn't be like we were just running blind into abandoned buildings, putting ourselves in harm's way. The families would, like, serve us dinner after we shot our introductory footage."

"Maybe the show could be less about scares and more about the families," Corbett says. "You know, in a roundabout way? Like ghost hunting with a human twist."

"A human twist," Ed says, grinning. "Yeah. That's our specialty."

They're both excited about the idea by the time they get back to Ed's house, talking out the details. The thunderstorm that has been looming all day is getting louder, lightning splitting the sky over Ed's cul-de-sac. He's kind of ridiculously excited about the fact that he'll be able to wrap around Corbett in bed when the rain comes, and they hurry to get his things out of the car.

"You didn't even unpack at Harry's house?" Ed says as they carry Corbett's bags to the door.

"I, uh." Corbett gives him the kind of shy little smile that shouldn't be possible between two people whose jeans are stained with each other's come. "I was kind of hoping you'd come after me."

Ed kisses Corbett's neck before opening the door. He's half expecting chaos, his parents shouting at Maggie for wasting her time with Harry, but instead he finds the two of them cuddling on the living room couch together, Maggie asleep on Harry's shoulder.

"I see you have retrieved Corbett," Harry says, and he salutes, for some reason. Ed laughs.

"Yeah. Did you two get caught?"

"Um, yes. But I think it's going to be okay. Your mother and I had a long talk. We cried. Dr. Bederman was on speaker phone at one point."

"That's - that's great, Harry."

"In fact, she kind of invited me to live here after I poured my heart out about my issues with my step-father," Harry says, and Ed raises his eyebrows. Sharing the hall bathroom with Harry, Maggie, and Corbett could get interesting, but he's really too tired to worry about it now.

"We're heading up to bed," Ed says, pointing to the stairs with his thumb. Harry smirks.

"We?" he says.

"Don't make fun," Ed says. "Seriously. Corbett will kick your ass."

"I will," Corbett says, nodding, and he shoots Harry a friendly smile when Harry blanches. "Though I'd prefer not to, if it's all the same to you. Might make living in the same house kind of awkward."

"Hey," Harry says, holding up his hand. "As long as you guys don't make loud sex noises, I'm cool."

"Back 'atcha," Ed says. Maggie stirs and sits up, blinking groggily.

"Sex noises?" she says, muttering.

"Go back to sleep, babe," Harry says, patting her back, and she does, moaning a little.

Ed takes Corbett up to his room and makes space for him in some of his dresser drawers, happily flustered by the sight of Corbett's y-front briefs next to his boxer shorts. He changes into a clean pair of boxers and climbs into bed, tossing his glasses onto the bedside table as the rain begins outside, thunder rattling the windowpanes.

"You look so cute without your glasses," Corbett says when he slides into bed beside Ed, wearing nothing but a fresh pair of y-fronts. They both moan as they wrap around each other, skin to skin, legs tangling under the blankets.

"I thought you had a glasses fetish," Ed says. He's licking at Corbett's neck,will probably never break himself of the habit. "'Cause of me."

"I do like them," Corbett says. "But I'll always associate you without your glasses with you sleepwalk-cuddling me, so. I guess I have a non-glasses fetish now, too."

"I think the two can reasonably co-exist," Ed says, and Corbett nods, kissing him, his hands everywhere, sliding across Ed's back and down to grope his ass.

"We should sleep," Ed whispers into Corbett's mouth, because it's going to be so good, waking up when the rain blasts the windows, finding himself in Corbett's arms and letting himself stay there.

"Totally," Corbett whispers back, his hand sliding under the waistband of Ed's boxers to squeeze his bare ass.

Eventually, they sleep. Twice, Ed wakes up in the middle of the night, and both times, he finds the heat of Corbett's neck, buries his face against it, and falls asleep again. He has one dream about the Morton house, but this time Corbett is with him, and they aren't separated.

"Ed!" Corbett says in the dream, when things are beginning to get frightening, loud noises coming from the second floor. "Look, the front door, it's open. We can just leave."

And they do.

*

Three years later, at Maggie and Harry's actual wedding, Ed is the best man, but Corbett doesn't bring Rice Krispie squares. He's an usher, standing right behind Ed at the altar, looking so good in his tux that he and Ed have already had sex twice today, once in their apartment just after they'd both gotten dressed and later in an empty preschool classroom in the church where Harry and Maggie are now saying their vows. Ed is feeling kind of proud about the church thing while he zones out during the vows, leaning back until his elbow brushes Corbett's arm.

A lot of things have worked out, and a lot of things haven't: the show about ghost busting and haunted families hasn't exactly generated a lot of industry buzz, but they still have fun making it, though they have to keep part-time jobs as well, Ed at Office Depot and Corbett waiting tables at Chili's. Corbett's general loveability generates good tips, and sometimes they let him deejay trivia night. His mother eventually came around and she's even been out to dinner with Ed and Corbett, but Corbett's father still won't speak to him. It helps that he's close to Ed's family, and they have Thanksgiving and Christmas at the Zeddmore household every year.

They won't be able to dance at the reception without causing a scene among Harry's redneck relatives, which is okay by Ed, who hates dancing, though it also kind of makes him sad, because Corbett likes it. Still, it's an excuse to sneak off together and have more tuxedo-clad sex, and they find an empty event room on the second floor of the reception hall. Ed hops up onto a sturdy-looking buffet table and Corbett falls onto him, flattening him against it with kisses, already working on the front of his pants.

"Listen," Ed says, as Corbett pushes up his shirt and presses hot kisses to his stomach.

"Hmm?" Corbett says. He leans up to rub his nose against Ed's jaw. Even after three years together, he can't get enough of Ed's beard.

Ed laughs, and he puts his finger over Corbett's lips to still him for a moment and make sure he's really hearing what he thinks he's hearing. He is, and he grins.

"Fireworks," he says. "I knew it."

//

the end.

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