Work Text:
“Hey, yer wastin’ that good flavor!”
His tired brown eyes snapped open when his best friend nudged his shoulder, not quite a shove but enough to jolt him out of his daze. He glanced down at the cola-flavored popsicle hanging loosely from his mouth, the melted brown syrup dripping steadily onto the pavement—right beside his scuffed, well-loved Skechers.
He let out a flat murmur, barely bothering to lift his head. “It’s freakin’ hot today.”
“Right?!” his friend shot back, pushing his thick-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose before bumping him again with a wide, teasing grin.
They were sitting in front of the small store near their local school, the kind with plastic stools fading under the sun and a dusty awning that offered more hope than actual shade. Their last class had been dismissed early that afternoon, and the two boys had taken the chance to cool off. Really, it was Robert’s idea. He’d insisted on treating Luis to cola-flavored popsicles before they both headed home.
Luis tipped his head back, letting the heat wash over him, and Robert watched in a rare moment of quiet. His eyes followed a single bead of perspiration sliding down Luis’s neck, glistening in the heavy summer light, while the cicadas screamed louder from the trees around them, filling the still, sweltering air.
Robert didn’t say anything for a moment, even as Luis kept talking animatedly beside him, chewing on the tip of the popsicle’s plastic wrapper as it owed him money.
“Really, I don’t understand what Teacher Eugene was even trying to teach us! Seriously, ain’t everyone able to fry a good ’ol chicken?!” Luis barked, throwing his free hand up in frustration. “Heck, I’m more confident I can do better than him!"
His voice rang loud in the humid afternoon air, sharp enough that Robert felt it sting his ear a little. Luis’s volume always had a way of grating on him when the heat was already unbearable, but still, he stayed quiet. Just watching his friend rant with all the subtlety of a firecracker.
Robert sighed, finally pulling the half-melted popsicle from between his teeth. “It’s Home Economics, Luis. We’re supposed to learn how to cook. Y’know… just in case life doesn’t go the way we planned and we end up stuck at home for the rest of our sorry lives.”
Luis clicked his tongue loudly, whipping his head toward him with an exaggerated scrunch of his brows. “Here ya go again with yer pessimistic ass, Robert. When will ya change, buddy?” He punctuated the words by jabbing his popsicle through the air like he was lecturing him with a sugary, dripping baton.
Robert lowered his gaze to the small puddle forming at his feet, a sticky little pool of melted cola he’d created without noticing. The sounds around them: the buzzing cicadas, the distant chatter from the store, the hum of summer—seemed to swell all at once, pressing in with the same heavy heat that clung to their skin.
The curly-haired boy spoke without really thinking, the words slipping out before he could catch them. “...It’s buggin’ me lately,” he muttered. “Did ya seriously not remember what happened that night in the forest behind our local church?”
Luis stared at him for a moment, and the lively expression on his face slowly faded away. “...Nah. Still can’t remember a damn thing.”
Robert let out a rough, frustrated sigh before reaching over and scrubbing a hand through Luis’s hair, ruffling it with no mercy. “Idiot,” he muttered, though the word came out more worried than angry. “It’s been six months already. You gotta recall something at the very least.”
His sudden attack made the glasses boy burst into loud laughter, the sound echoing off the store’s tin roof as his popsicle slipped from his hand and hit the ground with a dull thud. “Oi, cut it out already!”
Luis shook off the ruffle, then drew in a slow breath before flashing his best friend a softer, gentler smile. “Were ya lonely ’cause I wasn’t around?”
Robert’s lips parted by a hair, the question hitting him harder than he wanted to admit. He quickly turned his head away, pretending to watch a motorcycle rumble past the road. The scorching heat did nothing to stop the flush creeping up his cheeks. “...Nah. Not really…”
Luis seized the moment immediately, eager to lighten the mood. He lifted his hands and pressed the pads of his fingers beneath his eyes, right under his glasses, and pulled down the skin to exaggerate a mock-crying face. When he spoke, his voice came out wobbly and ridiculous, the kind of impression that always made Robert want to smack him.
“Liar! I bet ya cried like, ‘Don’t leave me alone, Luissss! Boo hoo!’”
Robert kept his eyes fixed straight ahead, stubbornly refusing to give Luis even a quick glance. Instead, without a word, his hand drifted back to Luis’s already disheveled hair and ruffled it again, fingers digging in just enough to make a point.
“Ack! Not again!” Luis yelped, ducking his head as Robert pushed it down.
“Stop,” Robert grumbled, though his hand stayed firmly planted on Luis’s hair. “Yer gettin’ all carried away.”
“But the look on yer face says a lot!”
The cicadas around them buzzed louder, the heat and sound pressing in uncomfortably.
“Hey.”
The sudden drop in Robert’s tone made Luis freeze mid-motion. He turned toward him, brows furrowed in confusion.
Robert kept his gaze low, letting his head tilt toward the tiny puddle of melted popsicle forming between his shoes. “Can I ask ya… something a little strange?”
Luis blinked, his glasses sliding slightly down the bridge of his nose. He lifted a hand to subtly fix his tousled hair. “Yeah? Gonna profess yer undying love to me or somethin’?”
Robert cut him off flatly, his voice low, almost dull, as he trailed off, staring listlessly at the cracked road beneath them. “Not that… This… has been going on for some time now. No… for over a year.”
The creaking of the cicadas grew louder, almost unbearably so, and the scorching heat pressed down on Robert, driving him to release something he had been holding in for far too long.
“Y’know… this has been on my mind. Ever since ya went missin’ and then showed back up…”
His dark brown eyes darkened, trembling ever so slightly, as if the intensity of his gaze could make the small puddle at his feet sizzle and vanish under the weight of his emotions. “...You really are different from… Luis.”
The two boys sank into an uneasy silence, the oppressive heat pressing uncomfortably against their backs as if hours had passed in the brief moment.
Then the quiet was shattered. Luis’s glasses slipped from his face and clattered to the ground, the lenses cracking on impact. “Huh…”
Robert’s eyes followed the shift in his friend’s expression—and froze. Luis’s face twisted into pure disbelief, like someone caught red-handed.
“What the heck?!”
And then… the right side of his face began to warp and melt in an instant. Black, viscous goo seeped from his eyes as his voice took on a cryptic, distorted tone. “…My imitation… was supposed to be perfect…”
Robert staggered back instinctively, heart hammering against his ribs. The world around them felt unreal, the cicadas’ buzz now a deafening roar in his ears. He could barely reconcile the face he had known for years with the dark, dripping mask staring back at him.
“Luis…?” His voice cracked, barely a whisper, though part of him already knew the answer wouldn’t come normally.
The black goo quivered on the melting side of his friend’s face, and the distorted voice hissed again. “I-I…”
A cold shiver ran down Robert’s spine. The air around them thickened, almost suffocating, and the puddle of melted popsicle at his feet seemed suddenly insignificant compared to the horror unraveling before him.
Robert’s fingers itched, as if they wanted to reach out, but his instincts screamed to stay still. “Who… are you?
I’MSCAREDI’MSCAREDI’MSCAREDI’MSCAREDI’MSCAREDI’MSCAREDI’MSCARED—
The figure before him tilted its head unnaturally, the cracked glasses sliding slightly, exposing one eye that gleamed like molten coal. “I-I’m…” it whispered, each pant dripping with a darkness that made the summer heat feel ice-cold.
The world around them seemed to twist. The road, the store, the cicadas—they were all faded into a distorted haze. And Robert realized, with a growing, sinking dread, that nothing would ever feel normal again.
Robert froze, his heart hammering so violently he thought it might burst through his chest. The black, viscous goo twisted and writhed in the air, coalescing into tiny, grotesque hands that reached hungrily for his face. Each movement was slow and deliberate, yet impossibly terrifying, like the world itself had slowed just to watch him flinch.
He stared at ‘Luis’ in paralyzed horror, unable to look away as the distorted fingers crept closer. A scream clawed at his throat, but no sound came. His voice had betrayed him, leaving him trapped in silence.
Then, in a sudden, almost impossibly fast motion, ‘Luis’ lunged, wrapping him in a tight, desperate embrace. The black ooze seemed to retreat slightly as the figure clung to him, shaking with muffled sobs that vibrated through his chest.
“I-I’m begging ya… don’t tell a soul about this…” The voice was warped, alien, yet threaded with the raw, fragile pain Robert recognized all too well.
Robert’s mind raced, but his body remained frozen, caught between fear and the desperate familiarity of the gesture. He could feel the heat of the distorted figure against him, the sticky, unnatural texture pressing into his arms, and a strange, suffocating confusion mixed with empathy twisted in his chest.
‘Luis’ continued to choke back a sob, his warped form trembling as the dark goo on his face quivered with each desperate movement. His hands gripped Robert’s back tighter than he, or whatever this was, intended.
“For the first time… I was livin’ as a human,” he whispered, voice breaking, strangled with sorrow. “For the first time, I got to enjoy school… friends… even ice pops… Who I am as a person, and my body… are both borrowed… But… I really… I really love you…"
Robert didn’t dare speak. His lips quivered uncontrollably, and tears streamed down his face, mingling with the rivulets of sweat and the clear trickle of snot from his nose. He could feel the weight of the confession pressing into him, each word slicing through the haze of fear.
“Please…” the figure whimpered, voice now almost a strangled plea. “…I don’t want to kill you, Robert…”
Robert’s hands instinctively moved to press against the trembling figure, unsure whether he was holding a friend or a monster, unsure if the warmth beneath the horror was real, or a fleeting fragment of the person he had loved all along.
The cicadas outside seemed distant now, drowned out by the quiet terror and aching sincerity in that warped embrace. And Robert, frozen by shock and grief, realized that whatever this was… it had wanted nothing more than to be seen, to be remembered, and to cling to him one last time.
Robert’s chest heaved as he panted, faint gasps escaping his lips. After a moment of hesitation, he returned the embrace, squeezing the trembling figure’s back with a tentative, desperate pressure. His eyes stared into nothing, hollow and clouded with a storm of conflicting emotions.
Either way… Luis is already gone… the thought hammered in his mind. So even if this isn’t really him… I still want him here…
He swallowed the lump in his throat, voice barely more than a whisper, yet steady enough to reach the warped figure clinging to him.
“Okay… ‘Luis.’ It’s good to see you again.”