It may not have been the life his parents might have wished for him, but Etienne Bellamy is quite content with the way he's arranged things for himself.

  Etienne is in his early thirties, of average height and rather lean. His skin is dark, his eyes shrewd and observant; and his hair, which he has done up in locs, is usually dyed varying shades of purple as are his eyebrows. He's dressed in black boots and a bodysuit; the bodysuit is inlaid with lights for a bit of contrast.

  At the moment he's in the apartment he keeps as sort of a home base. It's fairly undecorated - his mother had something to say about that last time she visited. But truth be known, he's not here enough to decorate it. His performances take him to all sorts of places. His mother has something to say about his constant traveling too, but that's the way his life is.

  Tonight he's getting ready for a performance in a club here in Stilt City when he receives a message on his computer.

  Hey it's Bog

  Are u getting ready for ur show?

  Bog is an old friend of his, though he wonders occasionally why they named themself for the Swamps they so hated. The two of them known one another since well before they took their present names and their present forms - he before he was Etienne, and Bog before he was Bog. Unthinkable as it seems now.

  Etienne keeps up with very few people who aren't family from that time in his life, nor does he particularly want to. After drifting away from the friends he'd had back then, it had come as a surprise when Bog messaged him out of the blue. They'd been thinking of him, they said.

  The dark-skinned man pauses what he's doing with a smile and taps out a quick response to his friend's message.

  I'm getting ready right now, as a matter of fact.

  Bog's been messaging him here and there over the years, but it's only recently that they've begun talking more. It seems fitting to him that they keep gently drifting back together, like driftwood in the sea.

  Etienne's not certain what first put the idea in his head. He hasn't seen Bog in person in years, since shortly after his friend's...attempt. But now he plucks up his courage.

  Send me a photo of yourself? he messages, then stands and continues preparing.

  Moments later Bog does as he's asked.

  The man sits and contemplates the photo he's been sent for a few moments. From what it shows, Bog still looks much like the person he knew in his childhood, though of course more masculine - and with those pretty glowing eyes he obtained in such an unfortunate manner. He's also had hair implants installed, and now there's a cyan streak that matches his eyes, running from the front of their skull to the back.

  It must be more convenient than dye, Etienne muses for a moment, before examining the picture more closely.

  His dark eyes are hooded. That picture stirs something in Etienne as it had not truly when they were younger, and he shifts in his seat a little.

  It doesn't take much thought to send his old friend a picture of himself in return. The most flattering one he has of course, wearing some of the tights he has that show off his figure. He is reluctantly of two minds about his flirting. While he's currently...between lovers, he knows that Bog is seeing someone. Well, more than one someone, but from what his friend's said that's a recent thing.

  The ping of a returning message distracts him before he can get too deep into his feelings.

  U look great, as usual

  He's not certain what to make of that - though he certainly knows what he wants it to mean. He can feel his cheeks starting to heat up but before he can think of a response, his friend sends another message.

  Why don't u come visit? I'll make it worth ur while

  Bog is definitely flirting with him, the performer thinks with a grin. He hadn't been much of a flirt when they were in school together, but times change it seems.

  Etienne puts his hands to the keyboard, taps gently at the keys without pressing them in - a nervous habit of his. How to respond to that? Aren't you dating some people? he settles on at last.

  We're all polyam

  I asked Torvald and he's cool with it

  He wants to meet u actually

  So does Henrik

  Pleeeeeeease?

  I haven't seen u in years

  Bog's so precious, just like he remembers him being. And the people they're with want to meet him? That certainly puts a new spin on things.

  The purple-haired man considers while closing his bag of supplies. Here in Louisiana people still aren't very accepting of such differences. Etienne's been wondering what such an arrangement might be like.

  Not only is he between lovers, when he finishes tonight's performance he'll be between gigs. He's got a bit saved up, though.

  That decides him.

  If I were to visit, what would be a good time?

  Is towards the beginning of November good? Bog replies. We can pick another time if its not

  The performer huffs a laugh. November. His life always seems to change in November. But this feels like a better change than usual; events softly clicking into place rather than being forced to take a shape they don't want to. That he doesn't want them to.

  Lovely.

  It sounds wonderful, he sends at last. I'll visit on the fifth, if that's convenient.

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  It sure is, Bog sends.

  I can't wait to see u

  And likewise, Etienne replies, smiling.

  They say their good nights and the man takes his equipment and leaves to go to his performance.

  Later, when he's back home and getting ready for bed, Etienne allows himself to consider what might be in the future for him. His and Bog's friendship was always a bit fraught - especially after Bog tried to kill themself. But there was always a closeness between them that he's enjoyed with very few other people.

  But even before that he had seen a deep sadness in the other, one he'd always kind of had the urge to try and relieve. They'd both been othered for one reason or another, and so had found some comfort in one another's friendship.

  Etienne has a deep and abiding guilt that such small comfort hadn't been enough to keep Bog from trying to kill himself. It's a very old guilt; but maybe this is a way of making it up to them.

  That might color his dreams when he finally falls asleep; or he might've expected it to. But instead he has a dream of something he can't quite recall, something that makes him wake with a sense of sweet longing in his narrow chest.

  ------------

  Some days later the performer packs a suitcase, throws a few other oddments into his skycar, and hits the trail - so to speak. He sets up the autopilot and alternately messages Bog and plays a game on his device.

  Etienne drives east until hits Alabama, then veers north. Alabama skyways are as good as usual, which is to say it's rough going. That, and he hits some traffic driving through Mobile. Immobile in Mobile, fantastic. Still, eventually he makes it through and starts heading north. Of course like any other road trip it's a long slog, but he amuses himself sometimes by watching the landscape below. It changes from swamps intermittently containing stilt towns to cities embedded in soggy ground on pylons.

  Occasionally he stops for a bite to eat or to refresh himself - always choosing the towns carefully of course. During the dark hours he manages to snatch some sleep; a vast improvement on having to guide his skycar the whole way himself.

  Etienne wakes with the dawn, feeling rather stiff after sleeping in the backseat of his car in the safety harness. Briefly he pulls off the highway and onto the lot of a fuel station to refresh himself and grab some breakfast, and then he's back on the road.

  To pass the time now he's awake, Etienne messages with Bog, games, or practices his contact juggling as best he can in an enclosed space. He spent a lot of his youth in skycars and hoverbusses and so he's an old hand at entertaining himself on long trips.

  And yes, he could've taken a hoverbus. But maybe he wanted to have some time to himself, to consider the possibilities - to let them gel. Perhaps he shouldn't get his hopes up, but it's difficult not to.

  Etienne's been busking and performing in small clubs throughout the southern swamps for some years now, wherever it was safe for him to do so; there aren't many corporations down south due to the low population and the lack of profitability of the location. He wouldn't mind giving himself another reason to come up to Novalectrum - rather, he wouldn't mind an excuse, and performing for a wider audience would be an assist to his career. Assuming Bog wants him to come back of course.

  If that's so, he'll start putting out feelers when he's not on the road. The thought brings a big smile to his face.

  While he's coming up on his destination the sun starts to dip again. Etienne has seen Novalectrum before in photographs, but as the sky begins to go dark and the city begins to sparkle, he finds that those photographs fail to do the reality justice - as is usually the case. He stretches as best he can, then quickly searches for a cheapish motel room so he can wash up from his trip. After renting the room, Etienne shoots a message to Bog.

  I'm going to grab a shower, do you want to go somewhere after?

  it's a place I like to go called the am/pm, Bog replies, sending the address after. Meet u there in an hour?

  Sounds fantastic.

  Quickly the dark-skinned man showers and dresses himself - it won't do to let Bog wait too long. Perhaps he's a little nervous. But he packed one of his most flattering outfits and he intends to go dressed to kill.

  After he pours himself into his pants, puts on his boots, and pulls his purple mesh shirt on, Etienne throws on a duster he likes to wear when it's cold - and it is pretty cold out tonight, colder than he'd like. Well, it'll be warm in the club.

  The purple-haired man drives to the address he was given. The AM/PM isn't in the best part of town, the part of him that's always alert realizes. Still, it seems pretty quiet tonight - for a club.

  The quiet only lasts until Etienne enters. He turns his hearing down a couple of notches against the thumping music, shrugs his coat off and looks around. He knows Bog's never been a social soul - very much unlike himself - and it seems to still be very much true. See, there they are, off in the darkest corner.

  In the flesh, after all these years

  The demiboy sits hunched over a beer and puffs rather nervously at a mellowthorn cigar. Since Etienn's seen Bog in person, the stubble is new, and so are the cyan stripe of hair running over the top of their head and the glowing eyes - last time he'd seen them their eyes were bandaged.

  Last time he'd seen them they were in the hospital directly after his suicide attempt. Etienne feels his stomach drop at the memory. But despite that and despite all the years, here they are in this little club with the music thumping and the low murmur of other people around them. Bog spots him in that moment - his eyes widen, and they wave him over.

  The eyes do suit them Etienne thinks, strolling over with his coat over his arm.

  "So, what's a sweet lil thing like you doin' in a dive like this?" Bog drawls, shedding all traces of nervousness just like that. Perhaps they were worried he wouldn't show up? Or perhaps they're as they've always been, prone to hide their feelings.

  That simply won't do.

  "The same thing a sweet thing like yourself is doing, I expect," Etienne replies with a grin, sitting across from Bog.

  "Ha!"

  The pair of them chat for a while, gently flirting like they're dipping into warm water. Etienne surprises himself by finding his old friend even more attractive in person than he remembers them being. Charming and precious as well, despite their rough exterior.

  The AM/PM doesn't have much in the way of food on offer, so after some time the two of them slip away to a nearby restaurant to grab a bite, flirting with one another even more vigorously. They wind up talking careers between bites; Etienne tells the other about working as an entertainer, Bog tells him, in rather vague terms, about their "perfectly legal" exploits.

  Bog knows he can read between the lines; Etienne gathers enough to realize the demiguy has become an implant fence. Well, that's neither here nor there.

  The pair don't stop talking. It seems as if after years of communicating only via text, the fine details of their lives come spilling out of them; things of no consequence but to them. And as the evening grows deeper, so does their talk; until it seems as though everyone has disappeared but them.

  Finally Bog reaches for his hand, warm palm against his own - and Etienne allows it. Curiously the darker-skinned man regards their joined hands. Bog's hand is smaller than his own and rather more chubby. But he feels as if this connection is what he's been waiting for all these years.

  Bog gives him a real, genuine smile, like he's hardly ever seen from him before. And in this moment, in a restaurant in one of the worse parts of Novalectrum, he knows that he'll do anything he has to, just to keep on seeing it.

  His companion must feel it too. "Your place or mine, honey?" they ask coquettishly, but with an undercurrent of real feeling beneath that takes Etienne's breath away.

  "I have a hotel room for the night, if you want a place where we don't have to change the sheets."

  "Sounds perfect."

  They pay for their food and pile back into the performer's skycar, all but oblivious to anything in the night but one another. That first kiss, shared between the pair in the backseat of Etienne's car, is only too real - if a little tentative. But they're testing the waters.

  He feels as if something's holding Bog back. But that's okay. Etienne's waited for him for years; having patience in this moment for their sake comes easily. So he allows the other to come to him like he would wait for a wary animal. If this is what it takes to convince him it's okay, then this is what Etienne will do.

  Together they ride the car back to the small motel set in the lower floor of a skyscraper; together they pile out of it and head back to Etienne's room. They disturb one disapproving old biddy on the way - not that he much notices or cares.

  Back in his room it takes some time, but Bog is softly receptive for him - just the way he'd always imagined they'd be. Afterwards they clean up a little and snuggle under the covers, still naked. Etienne lies on his back, head cradled on the pillow; Bog snuggles up to him on his side, throwing an arm around his waist and a chubby leg over his own thigh. The scent of their combined musk is...quite something.

  Etienne gives a warm, satisfied chuckle, pulling his new lover close. "Was it good for you?" he murmurs into their mussed hair, afterwards pressing a kiss to the glowing strands at the top of Bog's head.

  "Fantastic," Bog drawls, nuzzling into his chest. "So, so good."

  Very quickly the other drifts into a doze - if he sleeps as little as he did when they were younger, Etienne doesn't blame him. It seems...fitting that they've drifted back together like this, drifted into one another's arms, after so many years apart.

  Etienne smiles and lets himself fall asleep too.