Together Forever

 

This was my best friend and roommate, Marcel. He was my smartass, snarky, cocky, and totally fuckable wing man for 15 years. Ever since we were kids, meeting on the beach, he was that friend everyone wanted to have in their corner. From the minute we met we hit it off. I knew that this dim-witted, big hearted surfer bro was gonna be my best friend. He would totally fuck up anyone that made fun of me, and there were quite a few fights that he won on my behalf over the years. When we graduated high school, we made this blood pact: brothers forever. We went to the same college and were roomies for the entire time, even past our graduation time. During that time, we started fooling around a bit. You know, just a bro-blow. If he needed to blow off steam, I’d suck his delicious cock until he blew his gigantic load down my throat. If I had a particularly bad day at classes and work, he’d eat my ass better than any girl ever would. As a pan guy, he would literally fuck anything that moved, including me. It was a perfect bromance. No strings attached, just enjoying eachother’s company as much as we could. That is, until last month.

Marcel was killed by a drug bust gone wrong. He was buying a few grams from our dealer, and when the police busted down the door, a trigger happy cop popped a cap in his ass. Ever since, I’ve been so lethargic and lonely, missing my best bro in the world. I decided to keep his Doberman & Russian Blue cat. I’d sit at our typical spots at the bar and drink my Old Fashioned til bar close. Coming home, I’d sit in our crummy living room in our New Orleans shotgun house, and stare at the big trashed leather wingback chair that he always sat in. A cartridge of Wintergreen Tic Tacs, his addiction, still sat on the side table with an unfinished Blue Moon. Work sucked. Life sucked. I had no friends, only the silent dog & cat to keep me company. I was like that for weeks, until I decided enough was enough. I missed Marcel way too much. I was gonna fill that void. Not even the pets were enough, I was gonna get Marcel back. So, when I bought a spell of conjuring from the local voodoo shop, I realized there was no going back.

I made the circle of salt, lit the candles, and burned the incense. Pulling out the slip of paper, I did my best to read the old Haitian French spell, probably mispronouncing every single word. But once I slit my palm, and dropped blood on his picture, all the candles went out. There was a low rumble in the room, and the smell of the Sandalwood incense was the only thing I could experience. However, the rumbling stopped, and the pitch black room fell deadly silent.  A light green light began to emanate from in front of the circle, the smoke from the Sandalwood gathered to create the outline of a human. I began to hear indistinct whispers all around me, a familiar voice and smell of Wintergreen Tic Tacs. It was Marcel.

“How goes it, my bro-rrito?” Tears streaming down my face, I covered my ugly cry face. It was Marcel’s voice. It was Marcel’s cheeky humour. It was my bro. “Hey, hey. What’s with the tears? I’m here, aren’t I?” I felt an amorphous smoky hand rested on my shoulder, the same firm grasp I remembered.

“I just can’t believe it’s you.” I whimpered, reaching toward my right shoulder, and being met with a warm, silky feeling instead of his hand. I opened my eyes, and before me I saw my best friend, a veil of green smoke shrouding him, but unmistakably him. His outstretched arm and hand rested on me, and his confident, comforting eyes stared at me. “Are you okay? Where are you? Where did you go?” Questions poured from my mouth, and were replied to with a solemn glance downward from Marcel.

“My bro, it’s been rough. I didn’t go to the place I thought I was headed to. It’s dark and cold, and it’s not a place you wanna visit. It’s like heaven to see you and be here, dude.” He changed the subject, and instantly smiled, as if he remembered fully who I was. We talked for what seemed like days. Sometimes about nothing, sometimes about everything, but certainly spoke jovially until the incense stick was nearly gone. “My dude, I don’t mean to cut you off, but I’m gonna have to go soon.” The smoke began thinning, and his form began to become more and more translucent. I knew this would happen, but I had a plan.

“Marcel, you really don’t.” I said, a puzzled look on his face showed me he had no idea what I was talking about. “I want you to stay here. With me. In me.” His puzzled look turned to one of surprise.

“Bro, I couldn’t do that to you.” I reassured him, time and time again. Promising him I was ready for it. I could tell his was still filled with doubt, but as I stood up, and prepared to cross the salt threshold, I think he realized just how dedicated I was. He rose from his seated position, and we stared each other in the eyes. I stepped over the salt line, never once breaking eye contact. Once I did, I did my best to embrace him, and was actually able to feel a little bit of him, albeit however briefly.

“Ready.” I said, firmly planting my feet on the ground. He nodded, with an excited smile. I watched as he approached me, happily ready to accept him. I felt his presence touch me, a strange feeling of dense pressure, and silky to the touch. I felt the pressure build up between us, as he continued to push forward into me. It was a comfortable pressure, and it honestly felt amazing. Unlike anything I’ve ever felt. I felt his hands start to melt into mine. I felt his pecs and abs against mine, and in an instantaneous pop, his entire being was thrust into my body. I doubled over, feeling his warmth from within me. A shared consciousness and shared body. I did have, however, one last surprise for Marcel.

My skin began to bubble and darken, taking his sun-tanned tone. My hair flushed it’s tone into his blonde-brunette hombre, and his dark, low brows. I felt every inch of myself turn into him, turn into my best friend. I moaned and gasped as I felt that euphoric transformation overtake me. My feet grew and expanded, my arms lengthened and his many tattoos sprawled out across me. I felt a tasty wintergreen tic tac in my mouth, and knew I was done. Without my explicit permission, I felt my hands explore myself. 

“My dude, I can’t thank you enough.” His Cali-Boy clothes morphed onto our body, from his palm tree crew neck, to his lucky turquoise Vans. “Bros for life, my dude. Together forever.” His arms wrapped around himself and squeezed. I knew it was a hug meant for me, and as my consciousness melded into his, I was truly and irrevocably happy.