cho

cal comes up with the idea, proposing it as a joke. him and andre are laying on opposite sides of cal’s twin bed; cal is playing with his butterfly knife while andre reads through a comic book.

“what would happen if i cut you?”

“don’t you do enough of that to your own hand when you’re playing around with that dumb thing?”

cal ignores the teasing and scoots toward andre. he takes the book out of the older boy’s hands and throws it across the room. the mattress dips as cal straddles andre and pulls up andre’s shirt.

“dude, what the fuck are you doing?”

cal doesn’t respond. he opens his knife and lightly traces it over andre’s abdomen in the shape of a C. andre shuts up when he realizes what cal is doing.

cal looks to andre, trying to find something in his eyes that he could take as permission to do this, but andre is staring at the knife on his stomach.

cal presses down harder, once again tracing his initial onto andre’s skin. this time he draws blood. he hears andre hiss but ultimately ignores it.