(no annoying "...::..." this time!)
“Every conversation starts with a thesis, come on.”
“With you, yes.”
“With others too! The simple ‘Oi, twats, the concert yesterday was awesome’ is a thesis too.”
“What about ‘Hello’?”
“That’s a greeting.”
“’How are you?’”
“That’s a greeting as well.”
“’I’m fine, thanks.’”
“That’s an answer to a greeting.”
“’Who ate my chocolate bar’?”
“That’s…”
“Well?”
“A preamble to a thesis. Because after that someone would say ‘I ain’t touched nobody’s chocolate bar,’ and that’s a thesis.”
“You know you are wrong, you are just so goddamn stubborn.”
“I’m not wrong until someone proves me wrong.”
“Can’t you prove yourself wrong?”
“What am I, an imbecile, to do that?”
“But there’s right and there’s wrong and you have to distinguish between them.”
“You are a moralist, Jonny.”
“You are a moralist too.”
“I know. I’m just a very tired moralist who finds it amusing to argue with you.”
Thom rolled onto his stomach and looked over the clock on the nightstand. 3:45 in the bloody morning. The last record finished playing long before, the bowl with chips was empty except for the crumbs, and his whole body felt limp.
“You know, we’ve been talking non-stop for almost 12 hours straight,” Thom put his chin on his hands, closing his eyes briefly.
“Yeah, about 20 more minutes and it would be it,” Jonny stretched, shuddering slightly.
“I really want to sleep,” Thom mumbled, his mouth barely opening.
“Oh, come on, it would be our record,” Jonny looked at his half-asleep friend and tapped his shoulder carefully, “Don’t fall asleep just yet.”
“Who cares about the bloody record…11 hours and 40 minutes is good enough,” Thom turned away from Jonny with a groan.
“Thooooom,” Jonny scooted over to him, placing a hand on his waist, “Tomorrow is Sunday, you can sleep all you want.”
“No, I have this thing…this thing,” Thom sighed, “This thing…with my brother…I have to go to…at about....shite, 10? Yeah, I think it’s 10.”
“Can’t you cancel it?”
“No, I can’t. So I’m going to sleep,” Thom tried to roll onto the floor where his makeshift bed was, but Jonny held him firmly, “Your arm…is on the way to my bliss…I might as well chew through it, because nothing would stop me…”
“Yeah, try,” Jonny giggled behind him.
“Arrrgh,” Thom gnawed at the arm playfully, leaving a faint trace of teeth marks and saliva.
“Ewww,” Jonny laughed, taking his arm away from Thom and wiping it on the bed. Just as Thom tried to leave the bed, he pawed at his shirt and belt, holding him on the edge of falling.
“Lesssie for how long you hold out,” Thom chuckled, “I say it would be less than 2 minutes until you break and drop me.”
“You wish,” Jonny tensed and jerked Thom back to bed, rolling him on his back. Thom opened his dreamy eyes.
“Hiya, Jonny,” he smiled at him.
“Hi, Thom,” Jonny smiled back, his hand stroking Thom’s stomach and traveling down to his side.
“Your hand is on me.”
“You got that right.”
“Why is your hand on me?”
“You take up the whole bed and there’s no space for my hand to be except for on yourself.”
“Ah,” Thom giggled, “Well, you are bigger than me, so my leg,” Thom threw his leg over Jonny, “So my poor leg is to take residence on you.”
Jonny smiled, his arm now embracing Thom’s stomach fully and his head resting on the older boy’s shoulder. They giggled together, limbs laced, taking up less space than two normal human beings would.
“There’s something wrong with this picture,” Thom sighed out, putting his arm around Jonny’s shoulder so that it was more comfortable for the boy.
“Yeah,” Jonny closed his eyes, smiling big.
“It would be so horrible if we fall asleep like that. Imagine your brother coming in the morning to wake us and seeing that…”
“…He’d be freaked out…”
“…And your mom?”
“…My mom would shoo you out of the house with a broom.”
“…‘Fie, fie! Don’t touch my baby boy’”
Thom was still cackling as Jonny picked his head up and looked at him.
“A little screechy voice in my head tells me that you are going to do something,” Thom smiled at Jonny who appeared to look serious.
“The screechy voice is right,” Jonny smiled, lowering his head a bit.
“And what would that be?”
“Something you’ve been wanting for a long time.”
“Are you absolutely sure it’s the thing I want?”
“Oh yes,” Jonny smiled, stroking Thom’s cheek, “You’ve been begging me to do it.”
“Begging?” Thom didn’t have enough time to be confused as he was pushed off the bed onto the floor quickly. He chuckled, gazing up at the clock. 4:07.
“Awww, Jonny got what he wanted and knocked me out of the bed,” Thom hugged himself as the pillow landed on his face, “Thank you very much, you are very kind.”
There was no response and Thom thought that Jonny was already asleep, so he put the pillow under his head and closed his eyes.
Two feet higher, Jonny’s finger was trying to retrace the curve of Thom’s face on the white sheet.
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