Salt

Casey prefers salt packets from McDonald's. He has an entire shoebox full of them hidden in his closet under the ugly dress shoes he never wears. He keeps a smaller stash in his dresser, and he always carries six packets, three each in the front pockets of his jeans.

A few weeks ago there was a new cashier at McDonald's and when Casey asked for extra salt, he only got two packets. Casey was ready to rip into the clueless newbie but Zeke dragged him away. A few minutes later Janie, one of the regular workers, stopped by their table and handed Casey a small paper bag half-full of salt packets. By the end of the meal, Casey's hands stopped shaking.

Sometimes Zeke wants to eat somewhere other than McDonald's. He always sighs really long and loud, with a pathetic expression on his face, then he suggests that they eat at Burger King, or KFC. Sometimes Zeke even wants to go to restaurants that have salt shakers instead of packets. Casey always gives him a hard time about it.

Zeke tells him that man cannot live by salt packets alone.

Casey usually responds by calling him a smartass. Sometimes Zeke kisses him right then, and Casey's never sure if it's because Zeke thinks that Casey is cute, or if he just wants to shut Casey up. Casey suspects it's the latter, but he likes the kisses anyway.

He tried to explain the advantages of the McDonald's salt packet, using one of his precious stash as a visual aid. He pointed out the superior two-channel construction as opposed to the salt-packs that look like sugar. He demonstrated how, even one-handed, he could quickly and efficiently snap open the McDonald's packet, while the others - say the ones from Burger World - required two hands to tear them open.

Casey illustrated how, with a single finger, he could control the flow of salt from the McDonald's packet, using only half the contents at a time, while the contents of the Burger World packet were much harder to control.

Zeke just reached out and took both demonstration packets and tossed them over his left shoulder.

Casey called him an idiot and stormed off.

When Casey returned - sheepishly - to Zeke's car ten minutes later, Zeke had the good manners not to laugh. Much.

Zeke made it up to Casey later that night when he emptied a packet of salt across his chest and let Casey lick him clean.

Casey thinks Zeke tastes even better with salt.

He likes all the salt-tinged flavors of Zeke - bitter and tangy when they're tumbling around in bed, and slightly sweet when they're tangled together after. Casey wonders what would happen if McDonald's packaged Zeke-salt in those neat white packets. That's not one of his musings he'll ever share with Zeke, though.

It always surprises Casey a little when he realizes how much he does share with Zeke - ever since the whole incident at school. Incident. That's what it's been reduced to, a mere six months after. How eager everyone was to forget - or pretend to forget.

Casey can never forget.

Alone, terrified and armed with the tiny amount of remaining scat, Casey had defeated the alien queen - but not before she had spit a group of her mind-controlling parasites into Casey's face.

When it was dark and quiet, Casey could close his eyes and *feel* those creatures burrowing into his flesh.

If the vivid memories were too strong, Casey would reach for one of the salt packets he kept on the nightstand. He'd snap open the packet and press the tip of his finger over the one channel before tilting it over his other hand. Setting the half-full packet aside, he'd bathe himself with the salt, pouring the small white crystals over his head and rubbing them into his face. He visualized slugs in his mother's garden shriveling and dying when bathed in salt.

If he was in Zeke's bed, he'd use the rest of the packet to shower his lover, sprinkling the crystals across Zeke's head and chest to protect him - just in case.

He repeated the ritual salt shower for weeks, until Zeke caught him.

After making love, Zeke usually slept soundly - as in natural disasters wouldn't wake him. So Casey was more than startled to see Zeke's eyes open just as the salt descended onto Zeke's hair and body.

"What are you doing, Case?" Zeke asked through a yawn.

"Nothing."

"Kind of salty for a nothing." Zeke observed as he tried to brush the salt off his face.

"Really?"

"Definitely. Too bad it's not my favorite kind of salt." Zeke was watching Casey, his usual grin in place, despite his second, huge yawn. He stretched, then rolled onto his side to get a better look at Casey. "We can fix that."

"You sure you're up to it?"

Zeke swung an arm out, dropping it onto Casey's chest and gripping his shoulder. With a quick yank, Casey was on his stomach and Zeke was over him, leaving a line of warm breath down Casey's back. He worked all the way down to the small of Casey's back and up again to the nape of Casey's neck before rolling Casey onto his back.

"Now about that salt."

Casey moaned as Zeke pressed hard against Casey's body, sliding his cheek against Casey's in a way that made Casey moan. A light sheen of perspiration lined Casey's forehead and upper lip. Zeke leaned in and slowly licked Casey's upper lip.

"Mmmm." Zeke murmured. "Salty." He grinned wickedly before sliding down Casey's body. "Wonder what other parts might be salty." Zeke mused out loud, even as Casey's fingers worked into his hair, trying to guide him lower.

A flash of white hot pleasure as a tongue snaked across engorged flesh. A shiver and a gentle laugh.

Two bodies intertwined, glittering in the almost blackness of middle-of-the-night.

Gasping. A wordless cry. Breathing. The faint rasp of lips against skin as silent tears are kissed away.

"Salty." Zeke pronounced as he drew Casey closer. "Better than McDonalds."

END

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