To Make Him Gay

[Casper]

***

Casper spun a gold coin around his thumb. On one side was a maple leaf. And on the other was a picture of King George before he was decapitated in 1989. It was an old coin, but its value was limitless. Casper entered the training room alongside Dylan. The lights overhead flashed twice; the trial would soon begin.

Casper focused on Dylan's back. Unlike Casper, the boy wasn't a meta and needed extra protection during the fight. He also came from a wealthy family and probably hadn't suffered much hardship. Dylan's father had been the duke of Surron, but he had died a few months ago, so the title had been passed onto Dylan. Since Dylan had little interest in running his dukedom, he left the property and financial matters to his older sister while he focused on protecting the world. As they strode towards the middle of the training room, Dylan carried a black shield in his left hand and a ray gun in the other. He wore a black exoskeleton and a helmet with a tinted visor that protected his vitals. His special boots allowed him to jump over ten metres high while jetting air.

Unfortunately, the armour was heavy, and after an hour of wearing it, Dylan became slow and sluggish. After two hours, he all but passed out.

Dylan glanced at Casper's gold coin. "Why do you always have that?"

For their latest training exercise, Casper and Dylan had been forced together, despite the latter's dislike.

Casper remembered the day he had gotten the coin. Hunger had squeezed his stomach to the point that his belly had hurt. His vision had blurred, and a headache had constantly interrupted his thoughts. He remembered the filthy water he had to drink to cling to life, how it had made him vomit and shit simultaneously. And how some duke's son had thrown the gold coin his way after seeing him lying on a piece of cardboard outside a store. How the boy hadn't even blinked when he parted with such a precious treasure. A coin that could change a poor man's life.

Casper placed the coin in his pocket. While Dylan was fully dressed, Casper wore a white hooded shirt and jeans. His body was enhanced; he didn't need armour or a shield to withstand a Htraean's blows.

Vanessa's voice leaked out of the comm's unit in Casper's ear. "Releasing the Htraean in three, two, one."

A pause as her hand hovered above a red button in the adjoining room. "Zero."

Alarms blared, and red lights flashed around the perimeter of the training area. Dylan raised the shield to protect his torso and aimed his gun at the door as it lifted off the ground. Clouds of smoked spilled out of the tunnel beyond. And from the darkness, a foul creature emerged.

Its visage was a dull grey, with tiny nostrils and almost non-existent lips. Its pointed ears followed their every movement. In its hands, it carried two curved daggers. During missions, some Htraeans were killed; others, like the Htraean the two young men were about to face, were captured and used for training.

Dylan squeezed his gun's trigger, and bright rays of light flashed towards his prey. The creature ran in a zig-zag motion, pulling closer with each second that passed. The bullets grazed its skin, unable to penetrate its resistant barrier.

"Go left," Casper told Dylan.

Dylan nodded and jogged away from Casper. The creature followed Dylan, roaring and revealing four rows of pointed teeth in anger. Casper moved quicker than one could blink and placed himself between them. He pressed his hand on the Htraeans chest. "Unfortunately, tonight, you'll have to dance with me." He smiled. Colour drained from his vision, and everything became black and white. He noticed Dylan, a slender grey human in his peripheral vision.

Dylan had removed the canon from his back and waited for a clear shot. The creature's daggers swung towards Casper. But Casper dodged left and right, matching its speed with ease. It was one of the weaker Htraeans; Relar Corp wouldn't imprison a powerful specimen. There were too many unknowns, factors that could go wrong. So, it was better to kill it.

Casper caught one of the creature's wrists then kicked its chest. It crumpled as the breath left its lungs. The mouth of Dylan's canon glowed white. While the weapon warmed up, Casper froze the blood in the Htraean's veins; red icicles burst from its skin, and its movements slowed. Casper jumped back as a column of light burst forth from the canon, disintegrating the creature's head.

***

After training, Casper and his teammates had lunch while reviewing important files and planning their next steps. Vanessa went over a holographic map of the city where their next target lived. Martin and Sally hung close to her, eager to add their own suggestions. But Dylan sat in the back by himself, earphones tucked into his ears, phone clenched in his hand, eyes closed though he wasn't asleep. He was listening to everything, observing, while staying at a distance. Casper thought him beautiful. Dylan had a kind, gentle face; brown skin; a mass of curly copper hair. Dark eyes. Casper stood next to him, drinking chocolate milk through a straw.

The boy sighed. "You're blocking me."

"Not at all. The world can still see your beauty, I promise."

Dylan opened his eyes; Casper's chest tightened, and he glanced at the tiles. He didn't understand why normies placed themselves on the frontlines, inviting death. Metahumans were naturally stronger, and therefore had the responsibility to protect the weak, but the normies had nothing to aid them in battle but their technology, which could fail in dire situations.

What puzzled Casper was that Dylan came from a good family and had money, so there was no reason for him to live the way he did. No reason for him to risk his life. But Casper had often been told that affluent individuals were odd creatures who tended to have one or more screws missing.

When he was little, Casper's mother used to say that his father was a prince who had died in the war, but he had later learned from his grandfather that his father had been a man whore. A hovercraft engineer who ended up being killed by one of his many lovers. His father had earned a good salary but had wasted it on women, clothes, jewellery, food, and alcohol. He had left nothing for Casper, not even his last name.

This job had saved Casper's life, kept him off the streets after his mother committed suicide and his grandparents threw him out. But what did Dylan gain from it?

"Are you nervous?" Casper asked.

Dylan shrugged. "None of us will live forever. What matters most is doing what's important to you with the time that you're given." A pause then, "Are you having chocolate milk again?"

"You want me to get you strawberry?"

"If it isn't a bother."

Casper chuckled and ruffled the boy's hair, marvelling at how soft it felt. Then, after a brief pause, Casper went out into the hall and purchased some strawberry milk.

For a few months now, Casper had been struggling with his attraction to Dylan but had no idea what to do about it.

A robotic arm opened the vending machine's door, removed a small box of strawberry milk, and handed it to Casper. As the drink cooled his palm, Casper thought it wasn't enough for him to be gay; he had to awaken Dylan to the charms of being gay as well. But how would he do that? He clucked his tongue, then returned to the conference room, planning to do more research later.

***