Re: board to Death/consumed
There was movement, but not movement of his chest, like a pantomime of living, or like a rat had crawled into his open mouth and was now moving about his skin suit. His companion was too lax, too much of a rag doll and -- did he have his phone? Did he still have it? Could he call for help? Please, let him be able --
And then he heard that noise. It was not the noise of a rat, or something that crawled inside him, like a spider playing his ribs like a multicolored xylophone. It was low though, and his eyelids twitched like something living. Should he -- should he leave him here? No, no, no. He wasn't that kind of asshole as he fished his phone out of the back pocket of his jean shorts. They were still lubriciously short and completely hidden beneath his oversized sweater.
"Cmon, c'mon, wake up," Beau pleaded as he shook him lightly again. If he didn't wake up -- yeah, yeah he was definitely going to call 911. Bedazzling and body glitter did not prepare him for this, no matter what he saw sometimes in the back rooms of the places he danced at.
"I swear, sugar, you don't wake up, I'm callin'," he said like that would fucking rouse him out of whatever this was, and tried shaking him again.