Page 29 of Creature
“Happiness,” Harry echoeddreamily.
Then he leaned forward and touched his lipsto John’s.
John knew about kisses inthe abstract, just as he’d once known about grass and the sky. Butthe reality was infinitely grander, a bouquet of sensoryinformation that made John want to swoon. Harry smelled like rainand soap. His lips were a little dry, and he tasted of somethingrich, bitter, and sweet. Oh, and his mouth was wet andhot, tongue slickagainst John’s, hands solid and strong as they cradled John’sface.
When the kiss ended, they remained nose tonose. Harry was panting. “You like men too?” he asked with agrin.
John had no idea what his preferences mighthave been before he died, but those didn’t matter anymore. He knewhow he felt now. “I like you.”
“Even though—”
“Yes. Just as you care forme, even though.” In fact, John thought, their respectiveshortcomings made their feelings exquisite. It was probably easy tofall for someone who was flawless, but to ache for someone who wasnot… didn’t that mean the emotion was more genuine?
“It’s really hard for meto think clearly when you’re so close,” Harry said, “and I’m notall that good at thinking under the best of circumstances. I’mgoing for a walk.”
Harry made as if to stand, but John stoppedhim with a hand on his shoulder. “You’ve already been soaked oncetonight. Stay here. I’ll…. If it’s all right with you, I’d like abath.”
“Yeah, sure.”
John rose to his feet, no longerexperiencing any weakness. Whereas two days earlier he could barelywalk, now he felt as if he could run for miles. He smiled down atHarry and then made his way to the bathroom.
It took a few moments for John to work outhow to run the water. He wasn’t dirty, but he thought this mightgive Harry the space he needed. Besides, John would not likely beafforded this luxury again.
As the tub filled, he shed his clothing,stroking each item fondly before hanging it on a hook. And then hedid something he’d been avoiding—he faced his reflection in themirror.
He saw a young man, thin but not remarkablyso, with skin as pale as the moon. Long scars mapped him, jaggedridges on limbs, abdomen and chest, smaller puckers scatteredeverywhere. His body was nearly hairless except for tawny sprigs athis crotch and in his armpits. His cock and balls—not noticeablymarred—were a bit pinker than the rest of him. He had long, slenderfingers, like a pianist, and rosy nipples. His narrow face withhigh cheekbones bore an almost aristocratic mien, with full lips, aRoman nose, and pale brows arching over bright blue eyes.Butter-colored hair grew on his scalp, quite short but no longersparse.
The man in the mirror was handsome if youoverlooked the scars.
But to John he was a complete stranger.
Chapter Twelve
Even though John had leftthe room, Harry still felt John’s hands on his bare shoulders,John’s mouth against his. And he was certain that years fromnow—decades from now—he’dstillfeel those things. As if John were a ghostinstead of… whatever he was.
How could anyone look at John for even amoment and not see his soul? Even when he’d been hardly more than askin-sheathed skeleton, his essence had shone in his eyes. Heembodied more humanity than anyone Harry had met. When John lookedat Harry, he didn’t seem to see a moron, a weakling, a pervert.John’s gaze could almost make Harry believe in himself.
But in two nights, Harry would be complicitin returning John to hell, and Harry was too dim to find any wayaround that. Sure, he could again tell John to leave, but hedoubted John would listen. And besides, John had been right; theBureau would track him down soon enough. Hunting monsters was whatthey did.
John had said that two days of joy werebetter than a lifetime of loneliness and sorrow. And maybe two dayswas all that a guy like Harry was due, so he ought to be gratefulfor even that much. If only he could do more for John.
Well, at least he could make the most ofwhat they had.
He stood, letting the blanket drop to thefloor. Wearing nothing but boxer shorts, he padded to the bathroomand tapped on the door, which was slightly ajar. When no answercame, he thought maybe John hadn’t heard him over the sound ofrunning water. He knocked again, harder, and the door swungopen.
John knelt naked on the floor, face buriedin his hands.
“John!” Harry rushed inand crouched in front of him. “What’s wrong? Are youhurt?”
When John raised his head and looked atHarry, his eyes were dry but his expression bleak. “I’mnobody.”
Regret rocked Harry. “I shouldn’t havekissed you. I’m sorry. It doesn’t mean you’re corrupt like me,okay? You’re just—”
John’s laugh sounded almost like a sob. “Thekiss was wonderful.”
“Then why did you just sayyou’re nobody? You’re not. You’re John. My friend, I think. Andyou’re really smart and—”
“Nobody.” John tappedHarry’s shoulder lightly before standing and turning off thefaucet. Nearly full, the tub steamed.
