The wiry grass left criss cross impressions on his knees, still shaking and unable to hold his weight. One hand reaching out, twisting, his fingers curled at the desperate hope of strength. The callouses on his hands cracked and dead skin fell to the earth. His fingers tore at the dirt beneath him, desperate for an escape. All of his acrylics had cracked off, splitting his nails, bloody, torn, and jagged. The nerves on his fingers revolted against being brought to light, searing pain flooding through him. It was once he had fallen, his body finally caving to the pillowy dirt. His cuticles. The soft thin moons that crested his nails, they began to pull, pull back. An invisible hand held them in its grip and tore. He screamed, for a moment the sensation brought a satisfying peel before it gave away to pain, the delicate skin of his fingers being flipped and torn from his skin, blood trailing down in thin, jagged lines. He watched in a frozen horror as strips of his skin, thin and dead, fell off of him and floated to the ground. The earth sensed the dead skin and the moss rolled over it, taking it as a price paid. The silence that followed his screams was deafening. The forest seemed to absorb all sound around it, the wide trunks of rough bark held onto the noise, keeping it sacred.

  “Wait, you’re J—”

  Jesse cut off the familiar man before he could finish his sentence, his voice sharp, “It’s Jade here.”

  The man understood and nodded.

  “It’s been a while,” he spoke, his hands shoved in his pockets.

  Jesse had not seen the man since they were so much younger. It felt like a lifetime ago. Jesse’s heels almost brought him to this man’s height—had he grown since they were young or had it simply been that long?

  “I’m not here for uh— I’m— it’s my friend’s bachelor’s party,” he explained, making a point to make eye contact with Jesse, refusing to glance at the very skimpy outfit he was wearing. Jesse looked to where he had indicated. The man getting celebrated was clearly drunk, with multiple of Jesse’s coworkers crowded around the man and his many friends.

  “He looks like he’s in good hands,” Jesse remarked and the man laughed as if it had taken him by surprise.

  “We should catch up,” he blurted out, the words tumbling out of his mouth before he could catch them, clearly shocked by his own statement. Jesse studied his face, searching for something he couldn’t quite place.

  “Either you pay for the time or you wait until my shift is over,” he strained his neck to look at the clock above the bar, “in three hours.” It surprised Jesse how his stomach leapt at the sound of the man’s deep laugh.

  “If I buy a room can we just talk?” He took a last swig of his drink and put it down as Jesse took his hand and led him to a private room, where they sat next to each other, their bodies pressed close. The vague scent of sweat and beer filtered through the mask of perfume, assisted by the dim lights.

  “It’s been a few years,” he chuckled, and ran a hand through his hair. It was greying some. “I uh, I haven’t seen you since I left for rehab.” he spoke softly, and Jesse couldn’t move his gaze from the man in front of him, he couldn’t recall if his face had always been so mature, stubble against his chin and weary lines pulling him down.

  “Yeah, how’ve you been, how was that?” Jesse asked softly, wondering how it was possible to condense years into a few minutes. The man didn’t have a chance to say goodbye to anyone before he was whisked into sobriety.

  “It’s uh, it’s been an intense few years I guess.” He seemed nervous and Jesse didn’t know how to tell him not to be when he was still in his work clothes with most of his body on display. Usually having his chest bare calmed his clients. “Rehab worked I guess, although I’m not sure if I didn’t just trade drugs for work. I guess that’s just the normal way to outrun your problems.” He laughed to himself, and halfheartedly gestured to his left hand. “I got married right out of rehab, I don’t know, I think I uh—- wanted the stability.”

  Jesse’s eyes grew wide and he nodded solemnly, like his story was unique. He had always been good at this part of the job—listening. Men paid for private rooms and spent half the time having their own therapy session. Jesse couldn’t help but wonder what his wife looked like, how much she was privy to from his previous life.

  “I work in a shitty office downtown where no one knows anything about each other but if I’m being honest,” he leaned forward, his lips only inches from Jesse’s neck and his voice quiet, “it all feels like a bit of a sham.” The fabric of his shirt brushed up against Jesse’s arm gently. The cologne he used was subtle and pleasant, earthy, he had changed it in the years they’d been apart. It lingered on Jesse’s mind, he had kept the memory of his last cologne, one of the few parts of the man he could vividly remember.

  Jesse found himself smiling quietly. He looked up at his old friend and his eyes didn’t seem all that different from what Jesse had kept in his memories. They were still a soft brown, lighter on the edges and kinder the longer you looked at them. He had always remembered the eyes he had looked at Jesse with, and suddenly Jesse could barely remember why they hadn’t stayed in contact.

  chiiiurp, chiiiurp, chiiiurp. The sound followed him, a steady way to clock the seconds as they passed. Time faded away in the forest, slurring together until he could not tell the minutes from each other. His steps began to fall in line with their cries. Were they a warning? Or maybe a procession. A procession of one, being led deeper still into the trees. The tightness in his lungs refused to disappear and every breath raked nails against his throat. The clouds peeked through the trees around him, every step increased the elevation and his thoughts became less clear, the clouds creeping in, becoming more and more present. Each time he blinked, time began to slow and he allowed himself to lean into it causing his steps to fumble. His ankles, twisting, the bones being forced into awkward, unnatural angles, pressing against the skin, threatening to burst.

  Even when he attempted to cry out, it came out pathetic and strangled, as though his voice had been plucked from him, pulled into the air around him.

  He was taken back to being young. Jesse and the man had been in the back of a truck and trailer he had been hired to do deliveries. They were propped against the wall of the metal trailer, boxes piled around them, pushing them closer to each other.

  “I still have a few deliveries,” His voice dripped with desire as he spoke to Jesse, who straddled his knee and tucked some hair behind the man’s ear as if he hadn’t heard anything, “but we can go for dinner after,” the man pledged solemnly and kissed Jesse’s forehead and then his nose, then his lips. Jesse melted against him, the man’s arms wrapped around his waist.

  Jesse was intertwined with him, trying to convince him to skip the rest of his shift. Lips against the man’s neck, he spoke covenants of devotion. His fingers traced universes into his back. Together, they slid to the floor giggling and smiling. The man rolled onto his back with a laugh of finality, and allowed himself to be swayed, the promise of pleasure too great.

  Jesse’s vision focused on a single green grasshopper, a sharper chirp as he hopped forward, slowly, towards him. Slow, consistent movements, with each leap, he noticed tiny changes. As the small insect’s feet hit the ground his colors began to change. Green to a subtle yellow hue, creeping up his body. The exoskeleton began to harden and morph colors. The lines of veins pulsing, the fresh green began to fade to a soft yellow that crept up the bug’s body. Jesse’s palms pressed into the pillowy moss, a reprieve for his scraped palms, and pulled himself through the forest floor, scurrying away from the tiny insect.

  “Like old times?” the man chuckled, leaning back into Jesse to taste him once more, desperate to reminisce. To fall into what could have been. Cramped in Jesse’s parked car, they fumbled with their clothes, struggling to free themselves. They barely made it into a parking space before their lips were exploring each other. Jesse noticed the absence of a ring against his left hand, vaguely wondering if it’d been stuffed in a pocket and was now thrown against the ground. He moaned deep into his mouth at the thought. The man’s fingers found their way against Jesse’s thighs, drawing soft circles against his smooth skin. Jesse pulled at the man’s hair, guiding him and desperate.

  It was the way the insect crept so rhythmically towards him and seemed to cock its head as if it was staring. It was unnerving, his upper lip began to sweat and his arms began to shiver. The chirping grew louder, increasing slowly until it was a cacophony of desperate screams, all overlapping as if they were vying to be noticed. It took Jesse a while to realize his own screams had been added to the orchestra of pleas, his own throat raw until it began to bleed. The unmistakable sharp taste of blood ran down his throat as he gasped for breath. Air fought to make its way through his throat, he gurgled, realizing he was choking, dying on his own body.

  “It wasn’t like that, Jesse.” His arms were wrapped around Jesse who forced familiarity to relax into the caress. The man kissed the top of Jesse’s head and slowly raked his fingers through his soft curls. “I had to leave, I didn’t have a choice,” he murmured into Jesse’s hair, his hands busy continuing to explore.

  “I know,” Jesse relented, his hands began to roam Jesse’s back, feeling each ripple and fold. Jesse pressed his lips into the man’s chest, his prayers of worship moaned into his flesh.

  They began to swarm. He was waiting waiting waiting and once it began, it happened all at once. The color changes, the wailing, he didn’t think it was possible for it to get more intense. He raised his arms in front of his face in a desperate attempt at protection as the bugs, oh god, the bugs, began to fly. Their wings thrummed together, a vibration that he could feel deep in his bones. Their tiny bodies shot by, too many, blocking his ability to see a path, thousands of them, the sky darkened by their masses. Their bodies crashed into his palms, their skeletons pulling his flesh down with them, their mandibles crushing into his skin, throwing their weight into attaching themselves to him and leaving gashes in a last attempt at cruelty. Jesse fell onto his back as he came to an understanding, the tension leaving his limbs and a mask of peace settling over his mind as he fell against the forest floor.

  Jesse ground against the man in desperation, his nails tearing at the same back he had just allowed his kisses to take root. The man below him attempted to control the movement of his hips but he was clearly out of practice, his hands eventually settling against Jesse’s chest and back. Honey poured out of Jesse and the man’s eyes drank it up. Moans slipped out of him as he buried his face in the man’s shoulder, slick with sweat, and he bit down against the flesh, and the man immediately replied with his own moan. It was only once Jesse’s pleasure roared through him, his hands against broad shoulders, driving himself down, begging for his own release, that he allowed the man below to take his enjoyment. The man’s hands wrapped around Jesse and they rolled over together, his lips grazing against Jesse’s neck.

  Tiny pieces of torn leaves fell against him and all around him, a rainfall for the death of a tree. He was surrounded by the beauty of decay. Jesse smiled against it, the vague thought of a death alongside the death of a forest. He would rot with them, the roots of the trees slowly pulled him into the soft earth. The crows, calling out as they gathered and pecked at his eyes. The foxes, scavenging, would take his fingers, running off with their spoils. Maybe the maggots would claim his tongue, maybe the hawk would find his liver.

  But it was the caterpillars who began to congregate, as if he were at the pulpit preaching. Their tiny legs dotted against him as they began to drag silk across his body. It was a torturously slow process, his mind delirious as they bound fibers to each layer, thousands of them, of every species, from every part of the forest, coming to his call. Small neon inchworms darted across his face, their silk thin and strong, covering his mouth. Horned devils made a slow aggressive path up his legs, strapping them together. The leeches made their way towards his body, draining their fill of blood before creating a spongy jelly layer of their own. The creatures pulled themselves across him, claiming him as their own. Cocooned by the forest, he gave himself up to the way they encased him.

  In the height of the man’s ecstasy, eyes closed and his hips quick, he breathed out a single word, “Jade”.

  Jesse froze underneath him, staring up at the man whose eyes were still shut with pleasure, his breath only just beginning to calm. He could not recognize the man suddenly, his face had changed and ice slid into Jesse’s veins. It wasn’t until the man opened his eyes and saw Jesse staring back at him blankly. It was only in that moment that he realized.

  “No— I didn’t mean.” He scrambled, and the two of them sat up, there was only a few feet between them but Jesse made sure they were no longer touching. Their bare, glistening, bodies reflected the intimacy they had just shared and the distance between them began to grow.

  Silently, Jesse pulled a t-shirt over his body. “Don’t— hey, listen, no— don’t.” The man put a hand on Jesse’s arm, trying to persuade him back into his arms. “I’m sorry, it was an accident,” he tried once more, his voice pleading.

  Jesse’s shoulders sagged, he was so tired. Immediately he could feel a hand on his shoulder, and a voice that sounded muffled underwater, as if they had sunk deep underground.

  “Please, let me explain—” The man’s voice strained and suddenly became meek.

  It was only at this point that Jesse spoke, “Explain what? What do you have to say?” The harsh words hung in the air between them.

  “I— I’m— I didn’t mean to— I meant to say your name.” Defeat weighed in his voice and his shoulders hunched forward. He took Jesse’s hand and kissed it tentatively.

  “I would never mean to do that.” He tucked a piece of Jesse’s hair behind his ear, stroking his cheek with his thumb. “I feel so awful.” His face had morphed back into something Jesse could recognize. Jesse held the man’s hand against his cheek, closing his eyes for a moment, pretending it was kindness.

  It began in his shoulders, under his skin. The ache refused to be ignored. He rolled his shoulders and his neck, exhaustion creeping up on him. He stretched his arms above him, his wrists twisting and crackling, his shoulders strained and tight. His hands touched the cocoon around him, tightly wound together. The air around him was thin, suffocating. The urge to panic had subsided, replaced by the irritation of pain.

  It felt like an infection, running hot through his veins. His fingers dug into the skin behind his neck, clawing into his muscles desperate for release. The tissue disobeyed the restraints of his skin. There was no way to tell whether it was his fingertips burning or the skin beneath them, inflamed and furious. He curled his arms inward, turning to cradle himself on his knees, stretching the canvas of his back taut.

  “I’m so sorry, forgive me,” he kissed Jesse’s hand, “forgive me,” kissed his wrist, “forgive me,” up his arm, “I missed you so much,” his voice was husk by the time he made his way to Jesse’s neck, his kisses becoming less delicate. “I’m such a piece of shit,” he whispered into Jesse’s hair. “You’re so beautiful.” The man slid towards him, wrapping his hands around his waist.

  Jesse still stared forward, his hands loose around the man’s back. Any thoughts he had were tangled, unreliable, he couldn’t trust them. He rubbed the man’s back slowly; the only sign of forgiveness the man needed. The man jumped on this moment and continued to eat at Jesse’s neck, his fingers dipping into him, reaching for absolution.

  He was molting, like the insects before him his shell began to detach as he grew anew. The skin seemed to have nothing to hold onto, loose on his back, only hanging on by his hunched figure. His capillaries had broken under his skin, one by one, bursting with a pop, blood running down his limbs. his veins and his arteries began to rearrange themselves, growing and twisting like a pit of snakes. Wriggling over each other in a confused attempt at creation. Fluid pumped through these new veins, awkwardly forming the shape of a dysfunctional wing. The case that held him so tightly began to crack. Veins curled and coiled around themselves, attracting each other like lost lovers. One by one his ligaments began to detangle themselves from his raw muscles, roping themselves together, his body began anew.

  Howling in pain he curled up tighter, until all he could hear was the pounding of his heart and the tearing of his flesh, the ripping of skin echoed against the walls of his dark casing. His hands froze in mismatched crooked claws. The nerves on his back, raw and pounding, screamed in stimulation, he could feel them vibrating. It felt like years he spent cocooned, suspended in a vat of his own body’s secretions as it began its rearrangement.

  The drive back was more awkward than either of them would acknowledge. The silence between them seemed to extend past the music thrumming out of the car radio. Jesse hadn’t planned for a guest in his car, last minute he had shoved the trash from the passenger’s seat to the backseat floor, covering it with a few coats and a prayer, cheeks hot when he realized the man was chuckling outside his car peering in.