Sick Fires: Chapter Six

You are Dave. John is your boyfriend, and damnit you just drop kicked a fucking puppy right infront of him.

"Hey dude, I'm not dead yet. Stop your blubbering."

"Well then you stop yours!"

"I guess we're both idiots."

"I guess we are." He sobs into the phone, and you are feeling pretty damned low.

"John. Calm down. I'm right here."

"Shhh, Dave. I'm pretending you are gone. Adds to the dramatic- Effect." John sniffles between his words.

"Well you know what, fuck the police. Cancer ain't won me over yet, and I'm not going to let it." You stop for a second before an idea comes to your head. "I think I'm going to casually crash up there in Washington for a bit. Maybe see you, have some sloppy make outs, take you out on ironic candle lit dates."

"Oh my gosh Dave. You can't ever come over. That's illegal." You can hear the fake pout in his voice alone.

"I just said. Fuck. The. Police. I'll drown them in petrified roaches if I have to." To that you earn a giggle that was still sort of heavy in a bit of left over grief.

"Dave, of course you can come. I just have to go check with Dad about it, and I'm pretty sure he'll say yes.. Espec-" He stopped, but you could tell he what he was going to say. "Especially since you eat his cake!" He feigns a laugh that makes your stomach churn slightly with guilt.