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                "Freak!" he muttered under his breath. He wanted to say something else. His throat was tight and scratchy. He was almost choking on the aftermath of his profound failure, his pathetic mind short-circuiting, trying to calculate damages payment for almost ripping his heart out and turning it into some pagan style offering which Brian totally didn't need.
                "Wait," said Carter. "Don't move!"
                He pulled away, reached back with one hand and swept across the floor, searching for his camera. Once he caught Brian's stupid stoned face in the comfort of his viewfinder, Carter felt like he could breathe again. He wasn't looking at Brian directly, and it gave him space.
                Brian giggled and tried hiding his face in his palms. "Dude, don't! 'm too high!"
                "I said, don't move," Carter whispered to him and pressed the button. Click! Like, maybe Brian didn't bend that way after all. Click. Maybe all of the signals Carter felt about him (click click) were no more than the mixture of his horny imagination and wishful thinking?

                Click! Click! Click!

                "You know, mate. . ." Brian said. "Has it ever occurred to you. . . like . . . all our worries aren't even worth it?"
                He lay on his back, arms crossed under his head, looking at the ceiling, as if it was night sky. Carter closed up on his face. Click! The way lamplight scattered across his freckled cheeks. Click! The glinting piercing bell showing through the messy brown locks of hair, sweat-sticky on Brian's forehead. Click! Click! Clickclickclick.
                "All of this mess. . . " Brian continued. "School, parents, grades, GCSE's, girlfriends, boyfriends, other friends, all of it! So. . . tiny. So insignificant. In-con-seq-ue-e-en-tial. . ." He was too stoned to say long smart words like that. Carter smiled even though he didn't want to. He felt broken and twisted, but MDMA was merciless. It made him act different. It bludgeoned his brain with how much he loved these moments, being close to Brian, even though he had to seal away most of his emotional waterfall. And Brian. . . . He looked like he couldn't hide a thing even if he tried. He was too out of place to hold secrets.
                "Like, a week ago," he said. "I might have cared about it still. Now I don't. Come to think of it, everything we've got here. . . pretty much ashes, compared to what's out there, you know?"
                He lay there, mere inches from Carter, his gaze unfocused and dreamy. Stupidly, dangerously close. And he was open about it, no second thoughts, no secret agenda, no nothing. No hope for Carter either. So, he just kept hiding inside his viewfinder taking pictures. Eyelashes fluttering. Click. Lamplight dancing on the tip of Brian's nose. Click. Crack of skin on his thin dry lower lip. Click.
"Cuz I've seen something big, Carter, you know? Real. Big. And I can't even try to explain this. Shit, I still don't get it myself. . ."
                A lonely pimple on his chin. Click. Damn hickey, greenpurplish healing bruise. Click. Clavicles. Click. Oversized t-shirt sagging around his chest. Click. Carter's arms were getting sore from his weird camera hold.
                "Man," he sighed, putting it on the floor between them. "You're totally baked!"
                "Thanks to my good buddy C!" Brian giggled, turned to his side and started tickling Carter.

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