Disclaimer: This work is of pure fiction with real life inspiration and any resemblance of the characters and settings to real life persons, events, circumstances, etc. is purely coincidental. This work involves the workings of love between consenting characters of teenage years and some stuff you might find offensive. If you are not a fan of this kind of literature, please proceed somewhere else. You know who you are and you should know whether or not to read this stuff. Think about the legal, moral and all those other shitty lines you might be crossing. This is not a quick jack off story. I do not own the lyrics to any song, quotes, book or excerpt referred to in this story.

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A/N: I had to do some research for this story. Between my exams and internship, I managed to find several resources for me to read. However, the biggest help came from an unexpected meeting with a family who closely shares the experiences in this story. I work at an office near a towering hospital so it wasn't much of a surprise that I walked into there and that was it... A story. After that, I scrapped the previous plot I wrote from chapter 2 and revised it. Here it is now. Hope you'll like where this is going. Kudos to those brave people I met. Clearly, their names aren't reflected here and I tweaked the events so it doesn't resemble anything but what's in my head. Enjoy!

© kkrimson © Oran 2014


~Captured~
Foster


"Who's that?"

"Hm? Oh, you mean Harry? He lives down at the studio across the street. Looks like his first camera, I think. At least now he won't be taking pictures with that crazy eyes of his."

"With his eyes?"

"If you look straight into his eyes, lad, you'd be surprised at how many times he'd blink before he stares back at you."

"Oh..."

"So...the usual strawberry syrup or chocolate this time?"

"Strawberry for me and chocolate for my friend."

"Always buying your friend his ice cream, eh? Why don't you bring him along next time?"

"He's just shy. But he loves your ice cream, sir."

"Everyone loves my ice cream. That's why I'm still in this business after 40 years or so."

"I'll be back tomorrow, okay? And will I still get those free sprinkles?"

"Sure, lad. Say hi to your friend for me."

"Okay!"

Just across the grassy field, right under the shadows of the trees, stood Harry who was breathlessly taking pictures after pictures after pictures. His one hand held several printed photos against one side of his camera already while his other hand kept busy on clicking. Just like he thought, it was so much different to actually be taking pictures with a camera.

Turning to one side from the other, his snapshots almost came out blurry and without a proper angle to it. Unsurprisingly, the subjects of his photos were leaves, birds, a squirrel, some stones and the whole landscape of the park. He didn't care much about it. He just wanted to pause how time passed with ever click he did.

Then, just when he pointed the camera toward the field up ahead of him, the reflexive click paused time at the right second. He captured a smiling boy. The boy's back was turned toward him and he didn't get to see what the boy seemed to be holding in both his hands. Instead, he just saw that beautiful smile.

It took several more minutes for him to just stare at the photo. The other ones he took earlier seemed insignificant all of a sudden. Only this photo of a smiling boy mattered to him right now. He walked aimlessly before stopping in front of a bench hidden under the shade of a tree. There, he sat to his heart's content and his thoughts drifted further away, as if trying to catch up to the boy that left him dumbfounded and curious.

"Harry."

He didn't hear his name being spoken at first. He was so focused on the photo that he didn't notice someone standing in front of him until he saw the little droplets of brown and pink on the paved ground.

He looked up and his photo came to life.

"You're Harry, right?"

He nodded and he felt stupid all of sudden. Right in front of him was that same smile he captured earlier. Right in front of him were the lightest pair of emerald eyes he had ever seen.

"I'm Foster," the boy said as he stretched out one arm while completely forgetting that he still had an ice cream cone in both his hands. "Oops."

Harry couldn't believe it. He stared at the boy and he was far too oblivious of how his eyes blinked furiously.

"I think that's cute," said Foster. "...how you blink your eyes like that."

"Uhm..."

"You won't mind if I sit with you?"

Harry nodded. His eyes were glued to Foster as the boy sat beside him. He wasn't aware of how stupid he looked with his mouth half-open and his eyes as wide as satellite dishes..

"Can't you talk?"

"Oh...uhh...," Harry stammered, still unable to comprehend the situation he was in. "...I'm Harry."

"I know already. The ice cream man told me your name."

"You mean Barry."

"Yeah. He says you look crazy with that eyes of yours, but I think they look lovely."

Harry blushed at the compliment and Foster just smiled at him. He wasn't used to hearing such nice words from others, but here was a boy that noticed how lovely his eyes were.

"You, too," he sheepishly mumbled. "I mean...your eyes are gorgeous."

"Gorgeous," Foster chuckled. "...thanks."

They sat there silently for a few seconds until they were both reminded again of the dripping ice cream in Foster's hands.

"You like chocolate or strawberry?"

"Chocolate," Harry responded. "...but I don't mind strawberry that much."

"Cool," Foster remarked as he handed the chocolate covered ice cream to Harry. "I love strawberry so I'll hold on to this."

Harry hesitated when he took the ice cream from Foster. The other boy insisted and soon the chocolate melted down toward his hand. He had set the photo on the bench earlier beside his camera. As the chocolate dripped down to his fingers, he still wasn't so sure if all this was true.

"Don't let it go to waste," Foster told him. "...it's the best ice cream cone I've had in my entire life."

So Harry began licking his chocolate covered vanilla ice cream and Foster did the same. As soon as he saw the strawberry syrup on Foster's upper lip, he felt himself giggle.

"I have syrup on my lips, don't I?"

"Yeah," Harry said as he absentmindedly reached out his other arm toward Foster. "...right here."

Before he even realized it, his index finger settled gently on Foster's upper lip. When he was well aware of his own innocent gesture, he blushed even more and awkwardly withdrew his hand.

"Sorry...," he mumbled.

"It's okay," Foster said.

When they finished their ice cream cones, Foster asked Harry if he could take some pictures. Of course, Harry didn't mind at all and he even convinced Foster to walk with him around the park and look for something worth taking a snapshot of.

They went over to the pond and took pictures of a pair of swans and people leaning against the rails. They went to a bicycle path and took blurry snapshots of cyclists doing several laps. As they went around some more, Harry began feeling more comfortable with Foster beside him. He didn't mind the infrequent and innocent brush of their shoulders or how he almost hugged Foster from behind when the other boy stopped in his track while he continued walking. They both laughed, shyly at first, before smiling apologetically at each other.

"I'm starting to really like you, Harry," Foster mumbled as they walked down the path back to where they first met. "I mean it."

"Oh." Harry didn't know what to say. No one ever liked him the way Foster said it just now. "I...me, too. I mean, you. I like you."

"Are you always at lost for words?"

"Sometimes. I have a quiet disposition."

"A quiet disposition?" Foster chuckled. "Nothing is quiet about you!"

"Huh?"

"Your hair sticks out and it's yellow. You have crazy brown eyes and a nose that points upward! And your shirt...," Foster feigned disgust. "...why is it orange?"

"I like orange," Harry contended. "...and just `coz I look like this doesn't mean I'm not shy!"

"You are what you let others see about you. Orange...you are what you wear."

"Not really. I take pictures of people and stuff, but they're all different from how they look. I know `coz I'm like that, I guess."

"Trying to be someone you're not?"

"Maybe," Harry whispered. "...maybe not."

"I s'pose you're right."

Harry noticed how Foster suddenly became quiet. He glanced toward the boy as they both fell into slow and careful steps. Foster looked sad. It was different from how he smiled at him in that supposedly candid shot he took earlier.

"Foster?"

"I have a twin, y'know," Foster whispered, "he looks different on the outside, but I don't blame him. He tries to hide it sometimes, but it shows and..."

"And?"

"...he can't do anything about it. Neither can I."

"Does he look like you?"

"We're twins," Foster repeated. "...identical twins so we have a lot in common."

"Cool," said Harry. "But I don't get what you're saying."

"He's sick, Harry. Very, very sick and sometimes I think...I...I just don't wanna lose him so soon."

"You won't," Harry reassured, but he didn't know if he should believe his own words. "What's his name? And what kind of..."

"Cancer...fuckin' cancer deep in his bones," Foster said harshly. "...you'd think he's a saint, but not even God can make him better. His name's Luke."

"Like Saint Luke?" Harry wanted to be sure and Foster nodded. "...I'm sure God loves him and he'll be alright in no time."

Foster only grunted in response. His brother was named after a saint, but Luke seemed very far away from God's blessings and protection. He hated that the most. If it was up to him, he would've volunteered to take on God's unreasonable wrath and be forever cursed with sickness if that should mean Luke wouldn't have to suffer so much.

"He likes chocolate syrup on his ice cream. Like you."

"And you like strawberry," Harry mused. "...you don't have that in common."

"Yeah, you're right."

Foster's expression suddenly went from sad to something...unreadable to Harry. His brown hair bounced as he turned his gaze toward the other boy and smiled sheepishly while a blush settled on his cheeks.

"Guess what," he said.

"What?"

"We have lots in common, okay?"

Harry nodded, unsure with where this was headed.

"But the best thing we don't share is somewhere right here."

Harry looked down and saw Foster placing a hand over his crotch. Foster looked totally innocent, smiling and giggling. As his gaze lingered for too long on Foster's bulging shorts, Harry felt something different stirring inside him.

He felt excited, doubtful and afraid at the same time.

Here was a boy who had the most beautiful smile and gorgeous eyes and who didn't seem so shy with pointing out the biggest difference between him and his twin. From what Harry could reasonably guess, that difference was somewhere underneath Foster's shorts, maybe just above his groin or somewhere on the tip of the boy's bulge.

"How...," Harry searched for something to say. "...how can you say it's the best thing that's different between you and Luke?"

"It's the best thing," Foster stressed once more, "coz we can easily tell each other apart when fooling with each other."

Harry blushed as he returned Foster's mischievous gaze.

"You don't need to tell each other apart," he argued. "You're Foster and he's Luke, and I'm sure you know that already."

"We do, but it's a lot more fun when we pretend not to know who's Luke and who's Foster."

Harry didn't get it, but Foster's grin got to him and made him chuckle at the other boy's indiscreet reference to their dick sizes.

"So how do you know who's Luke and who's Foster?"

"By touching it."

Harry felt stupid all over again. Of course, by touching it! But...he could also just look at it and maybe tell the difference before he even thought of touching it.

"Wanna see?"

Harry stopped in his tracks and Foster did the same. He tilted his head a little, amazed at Foster's poised invitation. For as long as he can remember, he wanted to see another boy's member. If he could just stare at another boy's dick, he'd know for sure where to place his own penis on the scale of sizes. He didn't know anyone willing enough to show them their dicks, but Foster was about to make his dream a reality.

"C-can I?" he finally asked as he felt his introversion leave him. Here was a chance of a lifetime and he wasn't about to let it slip away.

"Only if you show me yours,"

"Uhm...it's not big," Harry whispered, embarrassed by his lack of growth.

"I don't mind," Foster told him. "I bet Luke's smaller than you."

So at Foster's further insistence, they eventually found themselves inside the public restroom and eyeing each other in one of the stalls. Foster was still holding the camera and Harry was about to ask for it when the boy started holding on to it tighter.

"I wanna take some pictures."

"You what?" Harry asked apprehensively.

"If you don't mind," Foster quickly said.

Why the hell would he want to take a picture of his dick? And surely he didn't want anyone else to do it for him. Foster looked guiltily at him with a shy smile forming around his lips.

"It'll be our secret," Foster told him. "...I'll even let you keep the pictures. No one has to know."

At the thought of taking pictures of his and Foster's penises, Harry felt something press upward from under his shorts. He felt pretty sure that the tent was obvious and to confirm this, he looked at Foster's gaze shifting downward and settling on his hard-on.

"So...you won't mind, right?"

Harry couldn't think of a way out. He didn't even want a way out of this embarrassing and thrilling photo-shoot with Foster. To do so would probably leave him wondering and asking himself, `what if...'

"How can I be sure that you won't tell anyone about this?" he asked, still feeling doubtful while only one step away from voicing his consent.

"You get to keep the pictures," Foster repeated. "...and I bet you my life that I won't tell anyone. Not even my twin."

Betting on his life, huh, Harry thought. Sounds fair.

"So?"

"One picture and that's it," Harry said definitively.

"Two pictures," Foster corrected. "One of yours and one of mine. But if you want only one picture, I guess we could move closer and..."

"Two pictures," Harry hurriedly interrupted which made Foster laugh a little.

"Deal."

With their deal sealed with a handshake, both boys waited for each other to go first. Foster was clearly holding the camera up to his chest which vaguely suggested that Harry should go first. On the other hand, Harry's hands weren't going near the button of his shorts any time soon.

"You go first," Harry said. "So I can be sure you won't run away with a photo of my dick."

"How can I be sure you won't run away?" Foster rebutted.

"You stand by the door, okay? I won't run away, don't worry."

So Foster conceded and gave Harry his camera. He didn't feel shy at all. His swift hands reached down to his shorts and pulled the button out before pulling down his zipper. He held onto the hem of his undies and quickly pushed both clothing down below his knees. He lifted his shirt up and showed Harry his own boner.

Harry couldn't take his eyes off Foster's member. It made him feel tingly inside and he even considered blowing himself up from how hot his cheeks felt. His sweaty hands held shakily on the camera and if it wasn't for Foster's giggles, he would've stared at the boy's erection till God knows how long.

"It's your first time, isn't it?" Foster whispered.

"Uh-huh," Harry mumbled, still unsure with what to do next.

"I'll give you a bonus. You can touch it."

"Huh? You mean...really?"

"Only if you let me yours"

Harry contemplated on this new deal that was on the table. He could touch Foster's dick – the very first dick his hands would ever touch besides his and it looked really hard which was an added bonus in itself. But it would mean that his own erection that kept pressing against his tight shorts would be under Foster's scrutiny and who knows what the boy will do considering that he couldn't see any side of Foster that hinted of shyness when it came to putting himself on display.

"It'll be our secret," Foster kept reassuring him.

"For the record," Harry said, his voice cracked. "I'm not gay, alright?"

That, of course, was a lie. A lie that would probably keep himself from being labelled a `fag'.

"Whatever you say." Foster giggled. "...but you won't mind if I told you I like boys, will you?"

It's a trap, Harry thought. Tough luck, Foster. You can't fool me.

"I mean it," Foster stressed as if his own life was already on the line. "I'm gay, Harry. If you're not cool with that, I can just leave right now and..."

"No," Harry's tongue slipped. "I mean...it's cool. I don't mind."

"Then touch it!"

That was the only motivation Harry needed as his hand reluctantly went to Foster's dick pointing up at him. It wasn't really that big and Foster didn't have any patch of hair growing around his privates.

"I'm still 11 so it's not really that big yet."

"We're almost the same size," Harry mumbled and his hand was still inches away from Foster's youthful member.

Foster must've gotten impatient so he bent his hips forward a little before finally feeling Harry's hand touch the tip of his dick. He chuckled after seeing how fast Harry's hand withdrew.

"It's cool, Harry. You can touch it as long as you like."

Shaking his a head a little, Harry finally gave in to his own desire of touching Foster's hard on. He poked it with his forefinger first much like how he tapped on a table when he listened to his playlists. Then, his thumb settled underneath and he almost started pinching the skin that stretched over Foster's knob.

"You can touch my balls, too. Get on your knees."

It felt like he was being demanded to do so, but he didn't bother with it. Instead, he crouched in front of Foster's member and he could smell something peculiar coming off from the boy's privates. He withdrew his hand again before letting it touch Foster's tight ball sac. He heard Foster giggle and when he looked up, he was met with hazy green eyes and tight pressed lips that curved upward before joining the blush on Foster's cheeks.

"Take the picture already!"

His eyes went back to where his hands were almost fondling Foster's dick and balls. He shied away from Foster's boyhood and held the camera to his eye. He moved back a little till the frame perfectly enclosed the other boy's groin and when he heard the click, he couldn't help but feel more excited for the print to come out.

"That was fun." Foster smiled. "...but you really need to get the hell out of your shell."

"My shell?" Harry asked absentmindedly as he focused on the photo he was holding.

"It's not bad to be gay, Harry. It's not bad to be yourself. The only bad thing is the Big C that Luke has, but that doesn't even worry us too much."

"You're not worried for your twin?" Harry asked, completely ignoring Foster's first two arguments.

"It won't do good to worry too much. It'll drive my mum crazy if we can't even joke about it."

"Oh," Harry mumbled, his eyes still transfixed on the photo in his hands. A hard shaft paused at the right time and shot from the perfect angle. "...yeah, I guess so."

"It's your turn."

Harry's expression was almost horrid. He stared at Foster, pleading with the boy and asking for a way out. When Foster bent down and pulled his pants back up, Harry wanted to knock him over and run out of the stall.

"We had a deal," Foster told him.

"But..."

"You can't back out now."

"Promise you won't laugh at me?" Harry whispered.

Foster giggled and held out both his hands with open palms. "I promise."

Harry sighed dejectedly and stood up before handing his camera to Foster and switching positions with him so that he now stood against the door to make sure that Foster won't run away with a picture of his dick.

"C'mon, Harry. It's not that bad. We're boys so we know how each other looks like."

Harry nodded and carefully pushed the button out of his shorts, pulled the zipper down and held onto the seam of his underwear. He held Foster's eyes, searching furiously for that little bit of mercy to make him stop what he was about to do.

"Want me to take that off you?"

"N-no!" Harry asserted. "I can do it myself."

"Then do it."

In one painfully slow movement, Harry bent forward and pushed his shorts and briefs down below his knees. His shirt still managed to hide his erection, but Foster quickly pushed it up and exposed his boyhood in the most embarrassing manner in his life.

His eyes were shut, his cheeks felt hot and he tried thinking of ugly bugs, a dead squirrel, his mum's undergarments and his dad's dead toenail to somehow make his member go down. It didn't work though. Partly because he knew that he was being stared at and most of it was due to Foster whistling at him.

"Nice," Foster commented. "You still don't have any hair on you and your nuts look real good. You're definitely bigger than Luke, not much than me. And I've never seen a circumcised penis before!"

"Just take it," Harry mumbled hurriedly, his eyes still shut and his mind still conjuring up zombies and dead cats.

"Huh?"

"The picture."

"Okay," Foster said. "Can you hold your shirt up for me?"

Harry felt like he was being forced to strip and display himself. He felt helpless and scared. However, his heart was racing and it made him feel excited and naughty which didn't help at making his hard on go away.

"Hey."

Harry yelped and his eyes shot wide open when he felt Foster's hand settle on his dick, cup his balls and rub up and down.

"You touched mine, so I can touch yours."

Harry dreaded the fact. He immediately wished he didn't touch Foster's hard on earlier. He saw Foster crouch in front of him and move closer to his dick. From how he looked down at the other boy, he could see the distance between Foster's upturned nose and his erection starting to get narrower.

"H-hey!" he shouted. "I didn't smell yours so you can't smell mine!"

Foster looked up at him and smiled. He retreated and just let his hand size up Harry's member. It felt good and his own hard on kept on pushing against his shorts.

"Ever played doctor?" he asked.

"No and I don't want to!" Harry yelled.

"Me and Luke do it all the time," Foster shrugged. "It's fun, y'know."

"Just take the picture already."

Foster obliged and held the camera to his eyes. His head tilted to one side before going to the other. He shuffled back a bit and leaned away before hearing the camera click. The photo came out seconds after and he whistled again.

"Stop that," Harry mumbled.

"Stop what?"

"Whistling. I'm not a porno star and...and...," Harry stammered before whispering, "this is hard for me, y'know."

Foster stood up and looked apologetically at Harry. He understood the discomfort Harry was in. This was clearly boy's first time of fooling around with another boy. He gently placed a hand on Harry's shoulder and noticed how the boy flinched and backed away against the door.

"You can pull you pants back up now," he said.

Harry didn't waste a second and immediately pulled his briefs and pants back up. He still made sure to stand by the door so Foster can't run off and leave him there. When he was dressed appropriately again, he kept staring at Foster who kept staring at his dick.

"Shit," he mumbled. "It looks so small."

"Not really," Foster said and handed the camera and both pictures to Harry. "It's just the perfect size for you."

"What is that s'posed to mean?"

"You're cute, Harry. Everything about you is cute."

Harry wasn't sure if that was a compliment or an insult. His pout took it as an insult, but his blush visibly took it as a compliment. He put the camera and pictures in his bag and walked out of the stall feeling suddenly furious with himself.

"Hey!" Foster called out. "Harry, wait up!"

Harry turned on his heels and pointed accusingly at Foster who stopped dead in his tracks.

"No one's gonna know about this. Got it?"

"Yeah. Not even Luke."

Harry turned and went for the exit. When he made it back outside, he felt relief wash over him as the gentle breeze blew through his unruly hair. He looked up at the sky and only one word echoed in his mind. Fuck.

"You're cool, Harry," Foster, who was now at his side, told him. "I like you."

"You're gay," Harry whispered. "What the fuck did I just do?"

"Just `coz I like boys, you start hating yourself now?"

Foster sounded accusing, angry and hurt. Harry looked toward him and saw rejection in Foster's eyes. He was being an asshole and it felt like shit.

"Foster...I don't mind that you like boys," he started. "I just...I think I do, too."

Foster's defeated look was swept away by his giggles.

It was a trap, Harry thought. Damn it.

"We can have so much fun. You and me," Foster said, his voice vibrant and impish. "...and Luke. You should meet him."

"Where's he at?"

"At the hospital. Two blocks from here."

"We can't tell him what we did, okay? And don't tell him that I like boys."

"Don't worry. I can tell what Luke's thinking."

"You can?" Harry asked, puzzled.

"Yeah, and I'm sure he'll like you a lot. You're his type."

"I am?"

"Uh-huh," Foster nodded. "Mine, too."

Harry couldn't be sure how many times his cheeks felt flushed. He was blushing again and Foster's smile released every butterfly on the planet inside his guts. He liked Foster, too. The boy was turning out to be his type. And Luke? His twin. He felt sure that he'd like the other boy in no time.

"We should buy him some ice cream cone," Foster thoughtfully said. "You ate his favourite earlier."

"I...I'll buy him some," Harry offered.

The two boys walked toward Barry's ice cream stand and Foster was walking closely beside Harry. Harry didn't mind the proximity of their shoulders, constantly brushing against the other and the unintentional impulses between their hands. Instead, he noticed that Foster was maybe an inch shorter than him so he pulled his arm up and threw it over the boy's shoulder. Foster giggled and did the same. They looked like drunk buddies leaning on each other for support as their feet shuffled toward the ice cream stand and their mild laughter filled the air around them.

"Chocolate or strawberry?" Barry asked them, his eyes looking so amused at the two boys.

"Chocolate," Harry said. "Luke likes chocolate."

"Luke?" Barry asked as he scooped some vanilla ice cream and reached for the chocolate syrup. He turned to Foster and asked, "Is he that friend of yours?"

"Yes sir!" Foster chirped. "He's my twin."

"Your twin! That's one helluva lot of work for your mum, I bet."

"She loves us both and I don't mind...," Foster paused, his eyes shifting. "I don't mind getting little attention at times."

"That's not fair, lad. You should sue her for it."

"It's cool, sir. Luke deserves more from her."

"Hmm," Barry mused and gave the ice cream cone to Harry. "Take him here sometimes so I can learn how to tell the difference between the two of you."

"Okay," Foster giggled.

"And Harry..."

Harry looked expectantly at the old man who looked back at him with tired eyes.

"...you like chocolate, don't you?"

Harry was dumbfounded. Not because of the question, but because of how Barry's voice changed from an old man's to an 11 year old boy's. He glanced to his side and Foster was gone. Barry and his ice cream stand had vanished and the green foliage surrounding the park turned to a deep shade of blue.

He found himself sitting on a stool with an occupied hospital bed in front of him. Pale green eyes stared at him. Lips covered in chocolate, head without any hint of hair and ghostly skin filled his vision.

"Harry?" the boy mumbled, sitting directly in front of Harry with their knees touching. "...you like chocolate?"

"Uhm...," Harry stuttered and focused on the boy. "...yeah. A whole lot."

The boy smiled and resumed licking his ice cream cone. He held it toward Harry, licked his lips and whispered shyly.

"Go on. Try it."

"Luke," Harry mumbled, still puzzled with where his mind drifted earlier. "I..."

"It's not contagious, y'know," Luke said sounding hurt. "You can't get cancer just `coz I have it."

Harry felt like shit all over again. He didn't know anything about Luke's condition. He didn't even know if he could catch it by just licking the same ice cream cone Luke was offering him. He didn't mean to hurt the boy's feelings, but he did anyway.

"Sorry," he whispered. "...I was just thinking of something."

Luke smiled when Harry took the ice cream cone and licked the taste of chocolate off it. He could tell that Harry didn't mean anything by his gesture earlier and he knew that Harry wouldn't hurt his feelings just like that.

"What was it about?"

"Ice cream."

Luke giggled and reached for his ice cream cone, his hands wrapping around Harry's and the melting chocolate going over their fingers.

"Ice cream," he repeated. "You're thinking about ice cream cones?"

"I guess so."

For the past week, Harry kept on visiting his friends at the hospital. He would knock on the door of Marcus' room and be greeted by the kid's eyes glistening and looking excitedly up at him. Marcus would then lead him down to Luke's room and they`d end up playing all sorts of games and laughing on Luke's bed. When Marcus was called in for his meds, the boy bravely left the room and came back smiling broadly a few minutes later.

When it was Luke who's up for his meds, Harry stood beside Luke's bed and watched the whole procedure. It was rather quick as if perfected with constant practice. Luke didn't look reluctant. Instead, there was some kind of determination in his pale green eyes with every tray presented to him.

Acute lymphocytic leukaemia. Those were the three most alien words Harry ever heard in his life. Those were probably just part of Luke's everyday vocabulary. The boy was diagnosed when he was 10 years old and had been receiving combinations of drugs and radiotherapy since then. It didn't show that much on Luke's face. Despite his pale complexion and the tiredness in his eyes, he couldn't forego a smile or giggle at even the most ridiculous of jokes.

And Harry learned to laugh along.

"I don't think I'll keep eating ice cream," Luke said, holding his ice cream cone sadly.

"Why not?"

"I'm starting to get diarrhoea and my mum says I may be lactose intolerant `coz of the drugs."

"Oh."

Even lactose intolerant sounded so foreign to Harry.

"Can you promise me one thing, Harry?"

"What's that?"

"Don't stop bringing me ice cream cones every time you visit. I really like it and I'll try not to...uhm," Luke paused, a shy blush settling on his cheeks. "...poop when I eat it."

Harry made the promise as if his own life depended on him bringing Luke his ice cream cones.

"Foster would've been happy to know you. I know he'll like you like I do, but..."

Harry blushed as he thought back to where his mind drifted off earlier. Foster's smile, impishness and gorgeous eyes came back to life in his imagination.

"I never even went to his funeral," Luke whispered shamefully. "I was afraid. I know I shouldn't be. I have cancer for fucksake! I've never been afraid before, but...when Foster died, I was scared that I might see myself in there. Dead."

Being identical twins, it wasn't hard to start looking at a mirror's image inside a casket. Luke thought he'd die when he got his lumbar puncture. As he went into chemo and radiation, the thought of death hung over his hunched back, vomiting the horrors churning up inside him. He never got over it even though he learned to accept what he had and just laugh about it every now and then. He still had his hope, but he couldn't evade his fear of dying.

"He must hate me right now," Luke continued. "He was always there for me, but I didn't get to say goodbye. I couldn't say goodbye..."

"Luke," Harry interrupted. "He doesn't hate you, okay? You said twins know what the other's thinking so I'm sure he knows that you love him."

"He was always there for me!" Foster yelled, infuriated with himself all of a sudden. "I fucked up `coz I couldn't even say goodbye."

Harry didn't know what to say. He didn't know what Luke wanted him to say. He just sat there blinking at the melting ice cream cone.

"You know how to listen, Harry," Luke whispered. "That's the best thing about you."

After a little while, their whole mood shifted away from Luke's fear of dying to something lighter when Marcus came in. The boy announced that his last chemo was done and he was feeling well already. His radiations were also a thing of the past. Surgeries and a bone marrow transplant were part of an age forgotten.

He touched his bald head and proudly said, "I'll grow my hair back now."

When it was time for Harry to leave, he leaned closer to Luke, as had been their practice for the past week. He felt Luke's lip brush his ear and a whisper made him smile warmly.

He received a wet kiss on the cheek and as a blush settled over his nose, he returned the same to Luke. Luke wanted someone to touch and he asked Harry to be that person. Without Foster, Harry had become Luke's adopted brother and was slowly teaching him what he and Foster did while they were growing up together.

"See you," Luke said.

"I'll take you out to the park tomorrow," Harry responded. "I'll show you where I saw Foster smiling at me.

Luke nodded and smiled.

When Harry went out the door and after leading Marcus back to his room, he didn't expect to drop in on a conversation over the phone in one of the lounges. It was Luke's mum. She sat with her body leaning forward and her hand supporting her head.

Harry hid himself behind some plant and listened carefully.

"Tell him I love him," she said. "...and Luke misses him so much."

Harry couldn't hear the person on the other end. He couldn't understand what the conversation was all about.

"Mum, please..."

She was clearly speaking to her mother, Luke's grandmum.

"I know it's hard for him. It's hard for Luke, too. He feels guilty. Rob and I feel guilty."

Guilty of what, Harry thought.

"We can't just say that to him!" she half-yelled. "He'll be devastated. They grew up together. Luke loves him so much."

Another long pause and an exhausted breath from her.

"We're doing our best. I know he'll understand. He can't hate Luke just because his brother has cancer. Tell him that, please."

Luke's brother?

"Tell Foster we love him. Luke loves him so much. Please, mum. Make him understand."

Harry's heart skipped a beat. Did he hear that right? Foster was alive! A ghost just came back to life.

He stumbled forward and when he looked back at Luke's mum, she was staring at him anxiously.

"Harry?" she whispered, the phone inches away from her ashen face.

~ End of Chapter ~


Now I have a whole new story to rewrite and I'm happy about it :)

Oh, and please do check out my other finished story here:Singing Hearts

And this one's still ongoing: Measuring Love

This is still ongoing, too: Turning Fourteen

Anyway, send me your awesome messages here. It considerably warms my heart knowing you reached out to me in as much as how I reached out to you with my stories. krispykrimson@gmail.com

With love and always wishing you the best,
kkrimson. (Oran)