Life, After
- Apr 1
- 16 min read
A short story by T.C. Mill
This story contains: contemporary romance, friends to lovers, cunnilingus
“It’s just,” Beatriz said, “I haven’t even masturbated since I died.”
We sat on the couch staring at each other, the apartment’s refrigerator humming in overdrive behind us, while on the TV, the sex scene entered its fourth minute. Considering the movie’s MPAA rating, its athletic heroine and square-jawed hero seemed really into things. I hoped that soon their heavy breathing and soft, wet kissing would be replaced by the pounding soundtrack and screeching tires—a return to the kind of action the posters had advertised. Fun, with explosions you didn’t have to think about because nobody you knew was dying in them.
I wished I could swallow my commentary. Death makes people horny. As if I knew anything about it.
“I’m sorry,” Bea murmured. “That got weird.”
“Well, I already made it weird. I’m sorry, too.” I offered her the bowl of popcorn.
She accepted, and we settled deeper into the cushions. As always, my friendship with my gorgeous roommate survived awkwardness. Even the awkwardness of watching an interminable sex scene alongside my crush and stumbling—or slipping, in Freudian fashion—on death. Which hadn’t been a subject of conversation in the three months since she, well, died.
As for Bea, after three months without masturbating, a year without dating—nearly as long as my own dry spell—I wondered how she could stand to watch the scene at all.
Between crunching kernels, she said, “Actually, it hasn’t been that bad. The problem…” She shoved a dark curl from her forehead, eyebrows bunching in thought.
I wanted to trace those brows with gentle fingers until the lines above them and around her deep brown eyes smoothed out.
“The problem,” she said, “is that death felt so good I’m not sure an orgasm would come close.”
I swallowed my wow, shit with a dry grain of popcorn. “Oh.” It sank in that she meant it. Bea had never been a practical joker, and it’s not like I’d thought she was pulling my leg, but
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