The Porcelain Carnival by Hayden Thorne

Author:Hayden Thorne
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: gay, lgbtq, young adult, superheroes, fantasy, comedy, adventure, coming of age
Publisher: Hayden Thorne
Published: 2021-08-14T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

“Eric, you’re not going to die.”

I glanced up, shooting Peter a withering look. “That’s easy for you to say. You weren’t neck-deep in seething, broiling garbage. I’ve got half a mind to demand a full cavity search.”

Peter froze. He didn’t even blink; I think he couldn’t find it in himself to blink. “This isn’t a good time to be kinky.”

“I’m not being kinky. I’m serious. I want to make sure no bacteria or viruses or mutated parasites and worms found their way under my jeans and underwear and up my ass.” I snorted. “Can you believe it? Parasites would get in there even way before you would, Peter Barlow. I don’t even want to think of the damage those bastards would cause. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if this means no gay butt sex till the day I die.”

I took a deep, calming breath because I was beyond furious. Was this what people called “incensed”? I think so, but I’d have to double-check my thesaurus. At any rate, I was fuming. It’d been an hour since I was rescued from the dumpster (and interrogated while squirming and practically sobbing in my killer disease-soaked clothes), and I refused to leave the bathtub. I’d been sitting in warm, sudsy water for an eternity now, alternately scrubbing every inch of my skin with a loofa and dunking my head again and again in the water. Oh, and the soap used was one of those anti-bacterial types, by the way, because I damned well demanded it. In that really incensed way I could only demand, when I was dripping with filth from head to toe, with my messenger bag just as messed up as I was.

Since the Sentries were involved in my rescue, they dragged my sorry ass away from the crowd for some kind of shot—don’t know what the hell was in that syringe, but my guess was something like the love child of the flu shot and a tetanus shot. Plus maybe something for malaria, the Black Plague, and Ebola. Whatever formula they’d used on me must’ve been totally epic and badass, considering how crazy big the needle was. I wasn’t sure if I should faint again or just plain lose all control of my bowels and shit inside my jeans.

“There you go,” Brenda had said after sticking me. She actually tried to cheer me up by gurgling and doing all kinds of baby talk the whole time. I just gaped at her, my lower lip wobbling. “You don’t have to worry about infections and stuff.”

Easy for her to say, I thought, but I didn’t get all honest and truthy then because all I wanted was to go home, scrub myself down to a molecule, and spend the rest of the day in self-pity mode.

I’d also demanded to have all of my clothes burned as well as my bag, and I didn’t care how much it’d cost Mom and Dad to help me replace those things because I knew twenty billion cycles in the washing machine wouldn’t ease my mind.

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