Chapter Text
Bob woke up to his throat hoarse and his entire body shaking; sweat coating his entire form, seeping into his clothes and sheets, he forces himself fully awake and out of bed. The house is silent– just how he likes it– besides his own light breathing. It's not exactly cold but he shivers nonetheless, he looks for clothes he can’t discern from his sleepwear, finding some old khaki corduroys and a slightly tattered yellow tee. Nightmares are the only thing waking him up early enough for school, early enough for his long wallowing periods to not interfere with his time in public and his time with Joaquin. Leaving his increasingly wrinkling clothes on his desk chair, he grabs the towel hanging off its back and lightly walks towards his bathroom.
Setting the water to its highest heat, he throws off his damp sweats and shirt and drops them onto a growing pile of clothes in the corner. He looks into the mirror almost fully nude, his body contorting in his vision, eyes blurring his skin with the yellow beige walls behind him, its been getting harder to recognize himself lately, his face stays mainly undisturbed by these feelings although he can’t tell if the bags under his eyes and the faint acne splattered on his cheeks are completely true or not. He finally looks away from the fake funhouse mirror when the steam starts clouding its deceptions, he turns to eye the shower, watching the harsh spray pelt the tiles he inches towards the water. He puts his arm in to test the temperature, he flinches yet stays otherwise unmoving, staring at his rapidly reddening skin under the stream of scalding water. He kicks off his underclothes and braces himself for the plunge.
Once in, prickles of burning pain trickle across the expanse of his body, chills rack his form and his throat clogs, vapor and sobs wreck his lungs, he braces against the wall, back still under the fall from the old spout. He whimpers at the feeling of his spine loosening and relaxing despite the agony filling his every pore, he calms and flinches at every drop. He minds scans through every emotion he should be feeling, he can’t think, gasping for words he can’t even form, grasping at any thought before his hand yanks the handle down. He can't tell if the liquid streaking down his face are his tears or not, he's heaving, his lungs ache and burn and he settles down onto the bare floor, warm tiles surrounding him, he's starting to feel a bit caged. The dim lights feel comforting even with the flickering yet they do nothing to stop the feeling of claustrophobia seeping through his veins, he smiles at the thought of himself, the smallest dog somehow alive after a beating from the biggest, why must he fight battles not meant for him, why is he left to rot after everything he’s gone through. Nothing makes sense anymore, wasn’t karma supposed to be on his side now, he’s not sure how much longer he can wait for her help, maybe the rumors of her cruelty were true, although he supposes Joaquin is a good start. Joaquin… that’s right, Joaquin is here and he’s there and quite honestly he rarely leaves Bob’s mind. He was beautiful, he glowed even after enduring the worst, he held the world on his hard shoulders, he was everything, he was his everything, he was his reason to keep going and he couldn’t quit now.
Bob stands, shakily at best, and reaches for the knob and slowly turns it back on letting the now freezing cold water hit him dead on, it's nice and soothes the invisible burns. A wet laugh chokes out of his hoarse throat, maybe he feels a sort of guilt creeping up his spine maybe its something different, its defintently something more, he shouldn’t rely on the thought of him so much, but everything he does feels like a beacon of hope, like the gentle beat of angel wings cooling him with the wind flowing through each feather after almost dying in the sun’s hell-rays, maybe it’s adoration, it really isn’t, it's something sicker and he’s infecting him with it. He twists the handle, the water comes out warm. Joaquin is sweet and he just cares so much, even if Bob did spill his guts at his heavenly feet –and wash them thereafter– he’d still tend to his wounds with the same, if not more, compassion he already has flowing through every nerve in his strong body although he’s not sure he’d look at him the same, how would he be able to. His hand hasn’t left the shower handle, he turns it hotter– miles cooler than earlier–, he twitches at the change. Bob has left a stain on everything he has touched, and god, he has never let him go since the day they met, he’d look in the mirror and just see a void instead, the air of something dark curdling his syrupy demeanor, Joaquin will never forget him and even if it creates an abhorrence he wouldn’t change that for the world. The oil of lust and obsession seep deep into the both of them, he’d never say but he’s delighted at the picture he painted.
He hardens at the thought of his face squeezed up with a gentle sort of disdain, his smooth brown skin showing lines of a neverending frown. Bob reaches down slowly as if he’d walk through the door right now, eyes staring holes through the rooms shut opening as he starts to feel his own skin under his shaking hands. Guilt continues to crawl over him like spiders searching for a home in the cracks of his dry skin, black wisps reach past his eyes and cloud his vision as he tugs at both himself and the idea of Joaquin’s hidden distaste and quiet ire finding him most deserving, it brings him higher than he’s ever felt before. If he didn’t think he’d hate him before, now it's a sure thing; he shakes with something, his sight so far gone he can't trace the feeling back to his hands or his body. Tears are pouring down his cheek though he doesn’t believe they’re from anything negative, he feels as if they are a salvation, his eyes clear with each rushing droplet, enough to see his sick spend on the damp tiles and old drain. The guilt he felt is hidden deeply under this overwhelming relief but he doesn’t know what from, the water cool on his back washes everything but his sin away– he's not sure he wants it gone.