THE BIRDS AND THE BEES

“Maybe Topanga was right.”

“What?” Shawn looked up from his skating magazine. “Has the world ended? Did the hair eat your brain, too, before it left with Topanga?”

“No, I’m serious. I think Topanga might be right.” Corey sat up so he could look over the edge of the bed at Shawn. The look on his face was somewhere between determined and confused. “I want a wife who’ll play video games with me and talk about baseball. I want a guy-wife.”

Shawn crooked an eyebrow. “Are you saying you want to marry me, Corey?”

“No,” Corey said, suddenly seeming extremely fascinated with the ceiling. “No. Just…you know. Maybe Topanga has a point. Maybe there is no girl out there who wants to play street hockey with me. Its just you and me, for the rest of our lives.” He collapsed onto his back with a sigh. “We might as well get married.”

Shawn rolled his eyes, climbing onto the bed with Corey. “It doesn’t quite work that way.”

Corey opened one eye to look at him. “Why not?”

“Because, Corey. Do I need to tell you again about the birds and the bees?”

“We watched that video in fifth grade, dingus.”

“Then you know that marriage is a little bit more than video games and street hockey,” Shawn said. His voice had that annoying gloating quality to it, the one that said ‘I’ve kissed a girl and you haven’t.’ “If you were on this bed with your wife instead of me, you wouldn’t just be talking, if you know what I mean.”

Corey shut his eyes again. “I know what you mean, Shawn. Everyone knows what you mean. If you made that statement to a fifth grade class, they’d all snicker along with you. Video, remember?”

“Fourth-graders would be stumped,” Shawn agreed. “But you get what I’m talking about. We can’t get married because you don’t want to make out with me, Corey.”

“And cause our kids would look like horses,” Corey added absent-mindedly. “Wait, what?”

“Mr. Ed with your hair,” Shawn mused. “Creepy.”

“No, wait, go back.” Corey sat up, trying to figure out what exactly had been said. “You said that our marriage would never work because I don’t want to make out with you.”

“And the whole horse thing, yeah,” Shawn said, sitting up too.

“You didn’t say that it was because you don’t want to make out with me.”

Where Corey’s face was furrowed up in confusion, Shawn’s was perfectly smooth and calm. “I…thought it went without saying.”

“Oh.” Corey lay down again, shutting his eyes. “Hey, wait.” He sat up again. “And you didn’t think it went without saying for me?”

Shawn gave him a look through the hair falling in his eyes, and then hauled himself onto Corey’s chest. “Oof. What the heck are you doing? Get off me, jerk, you’re heavy.” He swatted at Shawn until the other boy pinned his hands to the bed.

“Why are you fixated on this, Corey?” Shawn sounded amused.

“I’m not fixated. I’m just, you know…saying.” Corey did his best not to twitch. He’d had Shawn on top of him countless times in his life, while they were wrestling or playing touch football, but this…this was a little weird.

Shawn leaned over until he was looking directly into Corey’s eyes. His hair was tickling Corey’s neck. “And I’m just saying, don’t worry about it. We’re thirteen, man. Whatever happens happens.”

Slowly, but so surely that Corey didn’t even think to stop him, Shawn leaned down until their lips were touching, his eyes closing on the way. Corey shut his own eyes tight and felt Shawn’s lips, dry but soft, against his own. Felt Shawn’s tongue, wet and sudden, against the seal of his lips, his bubblegum breath hot on the inside of Corey’s mouth.

Shawn was kissing him. Shawn Hunter, his best friend, was kissing him, Corey Matthews.

Kind of explained the weirdness.

When Shawn pulled back, Corey kept his eyes closed until Shawn moved off him. He felt the other boy’s weight settle next to him on the bed and slowly licked his lips, opening his eyes. Shawn was just looking at him, no expression on his face, but his hands were twitching slightly on the bedspread.

Corey tried to make his face match Shawn’s. He shrugged. “Whatever happens happens, right?” he said, and Shawn’s face lit up in a grin, obviously relieved. “So,” Corey continued, “does this mean you want to be my wife?”

Shawn made a disgusted face, hauling the pillow out from under him to hit Corey in the face. “Shut up, dork. You’re my wife.”

“Ew. Maybe we can both be the husband,” Corey said, wrinkling his nose. “Morgan married her Ken dolls last year, so why not?”

“Your kid sister is weird, man.” Shawn shrugged. “But yeah. Why not?”

“So we’re married,” Corey said, feeling young and stupid, like he was watching that video in fifth grade all over again, learning about the birds and the bees.

Its wasn’t like he really expected to get married to Shawn, even though, it had to be better than being married to Topanga. He just wanted…confirmation, or something. Reassurance that was had just happened had actually happened.

Shawn’s smile expanded him again. “I guess so. We’re gonna be together for the rest of our lives anyway, right? We might as well get married.”

They both settled back on the bed again, laying silently next to each other on the same pillow, until Corey spoke up again. “And the strangest part of all of this is, Topanga was actually right,” he said incredulously.

Shawn nodded seriously, turning his head to look Corey in the eye. “The world really is coming to an end.”

 

END

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