I turned on the bedside lamp and made sure to close the blinds before I jumped him. Despite the cold night, his skin was hot, smooth and tasted deliciously like sweat.
We both laughed as he struggled to pull off my tight shirt and we parted just long enough for us both to peel off our jeans. We barely made it to the bed before we started rubbing against each other with animalistic ferocity. We were kissing, biting and clawing each other all over, I was paying very close attention to every single movement his sculpted muscles made, he was absolutely gorgeous. I licked his nipples and he threw his head back against the soft pillows and let out a tortured groan of pleasure.
Our passionate foreplay went on for another ten minutes before we both couldn’t take it any longer and starting rubbing, hard cock against hard cock, through our underwear until we both came with strangled cries.
Afterwards, Brad jumped up and headed into his adjoining bathroom. A minute later I heard the shower start, I was kind of annoyed he had just left me here until he stuck he head out the door.
“Coming?”
“Just did,” I said breathlessly.
He laughed and left the door open. I got up and stood unsteadily for a moment, I was still drunk after all, before continuing into the bathroom to find an already naked Brad standing in the middle of the room under a stream of hot water coming from the ceiling.
“No way! You have an all shower bathroom!” I said in amazement.
Brad looked at me, smiled and beckoned me to join him with a curling finger. I nervously dropped my underwear and stood beside him as he added another jet of water.
He looked me up and down and bit his lip before pulling me to him and kissing me. I was in heaven. Hot water cascading down my body and Brad attached fervently to my lips, I honestly couldn’t imagine a better feeling.
After five minutes he let go of my lips and handed me some soap and I started to wonder about what would happen tomorrow.
Everything is fine and dandy the night it happens, after all we’re drunk. But what happens when he wakes in the morning and his debilitating Daddy issues return with a vengeance? Or he remembers he’s still ‘technically’ dating Tara? Will he be overcome with guilt and take it out on me or will he be a man and admit to himself who and what he is?
My rather earnest train of thought was interrupted when Brad smacked me, hard, on the ass.
“Excuse me, would you please keep your damn hands to yourself?” I said jokingly,
He responded defiantly by smacking me again.
Cheeky bastard.
We finished up our shower (perhaps still a little unclean, hehe) and headed back into his bedroom where he handed me a pair of his Calvin’s then pulled me into bed with him.
It was so warm and comfortable under his thick duvet. It was even better when he held me in his arms as we both fell asleep.
I could really get used to this… I thought before falling into blissful, inebriated rest.
Chapter Eight
Sunday morning came with pain, in more than one form. The first came from my body; my head was pounding, my mouth tasted like an ashtray and my stomach was making suspicious gurgling noises. The second pain was when I looked up to see Brad staring at me like I was a creature from outer space.
I sighed, quite loudly. I had already anticipated this outcome. Yet, the tears were still threatening to spill at any second.
“What the fuck have I done?” he said, his eyes filled with fear.
I said nothing, what could I say after all? ‘The only reason we didn’t go further was because we were both too drunk to get it up again?’ I didn’t think that would go down too well.
“Oh God, if my father finds out…”
“Brad, relax why would he find out?”
“He always does, whenever I fuck up or do something wrong, he always finds out,”
“So last night was a complete mistake was it?”
“Of course it fucking was!”
Those tears I’d mentioned were now teetering dangerously on the edge of the dam.
“Thanks, I think I’ll go now,” I said harshly as I picked myself up out of the warm bed and found my clothes.
“I’m sorry Tyler, it’s not your fault. It’s me, I…”
“What Brad? You… what? Couldn’t control you fag emotions for one night? Fuck you,” I yelled as I pulled on my pants and t-shirt then looked around for my shoes. Realizing I’d toed them off at the front door I looked at him one more time in exasperation.
“I don’t regret a thing; I understand why you’re afraid but some day you’re going to have to grow some balls. Because, even if it’s not me, there is more than likely going to be another guy down the road. Hopefully he won’t be stupid enough to put up with your bullshit!”
“I’m not gay, Tyler.” he stated, I think more for his benefit than for mine.
I doubled over with scornful laughter.
“Right, keep telling yourself that. Because seriously, think about last night and have fun trying to convince yourself. Goodbye Brad,” I said in finality as I walked out his door, found my shoes in the hallway and slammed the front door.
I controlled my breathing on my short walk home; breathe in, breathe out I kept telling myself. I’d let myself into my house and it all the way to my bedroom before I let the tears start falling.
And after the first fell, the floodgate was open.
I cried, tired and hung over on my bed alone for nearly two hours. After that time, I just couldn’t cry any more, I was dehydrated and my head threatened to explode from the pain. My skin was red, my lips swollen and nose sore from tissue usage.
For once I was thankful my mom wasn’t home, how do you explain your first heartbreak to your Mother when she doesn’t know you’re gay yet? That reminded me, I really should tell her…
I was depressed and I knew, thanks to my mom’s many CD’s about the glories of female independence, that I shouldn’t let him get me down. I shouldn’t dwell, I shouldn’t cry and I shouldn’t think of what could have been… unfortunately that is easier sung than done.
So that afternoon, the sad (and embarrassing) movies surfaced on Netflix, the pantry was raided for everything chocolate related and I sat down and had a good ole ‘woe-is-me’ day.
By the time mom had come home I had eaten myself into a junk food hole and had watched enough movies about cancer patients to realize my life didn’t suck that bad. I was young, one day I’d meet a guy that was mature, gorgeous and wasn’t afraid to love me (I hoped…) I had also decided it was time I had ‘the talk’ with my mother. I was terrified, I honestly didn’t think she’d react badly but once you told your mom, it was ironclad official.
She came up to say ‘hello’, I greeted her meekly before she asked me about dinner. I said I wasn’t hungry but told her there was something I wanted to discuss with her, when she was ready.
An hour later there was a quiet knock at my door and my heart rate instantly spiked. My hands shook slightly as I let her in and I folded them in my lap as I sat at my desk chair. She took a seat on my bed and waited patiently for me to begin. I was sincerely close to chickening out, but after everything that had happened recently and all the depressing yet inspiring movies I’d watched that afternoon I knew it was time.
Bite the bullet Tyler, bite the bullet.
“Mom, I’m gay.” I admitted suddenly.
She nodded, “I know, darling.”
Huh?
“What?”
“You’re my child Tyler. I know you, I watched you grow up. I knew from the time you were 12 years old.”
“Oh…”
“Plus once you left your porn on your bed…”
Oh God.
“Ah, sorry?”
“It’s okay, you’re a teenage boy. I understand,” she said with a sly grin.
I laughed, my mom was seriously awesome.
“I never wanted to bring it up before, I knew you’d tell me when you were ready. But now that you’ve said it,
it’s time to talk about safe sex.”
“Ew mom! I’m still a virgin!”
And it is probably going to stay that way for a while… I added rather cynically to myself.
“Yes, but you’re as cute as a button my darlin' and the boys are going to be all over you once head off to college!”
“I’m just going to cut this short. I know how gay sex works, well in theory anyway. Use condoms without fail, get tested every six months and never take drugs when doing it. Am I about right?”
“Yes, well you shouldn’t take drugs at all but you forgot one more thing. Never share sex toys-”
“OH MY GOD. Get out!”
The damn woman started cackling.
“My innocent virgin ears!” I shouted as she laughed herself to the door.
“Seriously though Tyler. You’re my only child; hell my only family and I love you. Nothing could ever change that. I just want you to be happy and safe.” She said sweetly.
“Of course I’ll be safe Mom; I’m going to be a doctor remember?”
She said nothing more, just smiled happily and padded down the stairs.
As I lay on my bed throwing a ball up to the ceiling and then catching it on its decent I realized how lucky I am to have such a great and understanding parent. She never judges me, never complains about how hard she has to work and still finds the time to take a genuine interest in my life (not that there’s very much of interest in it.)
I fell asleep to these musings and had a very good nights sleep, not as good as the night before curled up in Brad’s arms but beggars can’t be choosers right?
Chapter Nine
It was the last week of school before Winter break and most of the students were a bit rowdy. The seniors in particular were feeling energized; their prom was on Friday and it marked the halfway point in their last year of high school.
The thought of prom depressed me. It was one of my numerous daydreams that Brad would take me as his date, ridiculous of course, but the thought of Brad in a tux was rather thrilling. He’d probably look like some kind of secret agent. Double-O-Sexy.
We hadn’t talked, hell we hadn’t even made eye contact since that night over a month ago. No notes through the windows, no texts, nothing. I saw him around school sometimes, but the most I ever really saw of him was during the football games on Friday nights, in which he actively avoided looking at the school band just in case he would see me.
Jen had noticed my sullenness and asked me about it a few times, I had managed to avoid answering her questions thus far. But I didn’t know how much longer she would put up with my lack of communication before giving up on me completely, and I didn’t think I could handle losing her as well.
I rode to school slowly on Monday morning, no enthusiasm whatsoever to be there today. I arrived to a loud school, as I’d expected. Christmas decorations were hung all over the old stone buildings and I could see friends exchanging cards in the courtyard. After securing my bike I went and bought a steaming hot chocolate from the cafeteria and set about to find Jen or Damian.
I knew I needed someone to confide in about what was going on with my life but I didn’t really know how talk about it, especially with my best friends. I know they’d feel some sense of betrayal that I’d kept this from them for so long… And that’s how at twenty minutes before roll call I found myself in front of the guidance councilors’ office. I knocked, waited and was quickly called in.
The councilor was a stout, middle-aged woman who had very kind eyes and a jolly looking face. Yes, I think I could definitely whine about my problems to her.
“How can I help you?” She said softly.
“Um, well I just wanted someone to talk to…?”
She smiled, “That would be me, is it an urgent matter or would you like to make an appointment?”
“Um well, I guess an appointment; class is about to start.”
“Yes, but if it’s a serious matter we can allow you to skip class, if you want?”
“No, no, not serious, just need someone to listen I guess.”
She looked at my face. She saw I wasn’t in trouble, just another sad teenager, and her body visually relaxed.
“Okay, so I’m free at lunch time if you’re interested?”
“That’d be great,”
“Okay, I just need your name and we’re all set”
“Tyler Evans.”
“Oh I know you, you’re one of our whiz kids!” she said with a vibrant smile, “I’m Mrs. Lake but when we’re alone feel free to call me Sheridan.”
I laughed uncomfortably; I wondered how much her opinion of me was about to change… I knew they said that these people were here for us to talk to without being judged, but that’s bullshit. They’re human beings; no matter how hard they try they will always judge in one way or another. However, whatever they thought, they weren’t allowed to share any of the information (unless it was life-threatening) and they weren’t allowed to provide any more than very basic advice, which was exactly what I wanted.
I sat through my classes, taking notes but not really paying attention. First break came and I found Jen and Damian as always and chatted idly about nothing of much importance. Although there was one particular thing Jen mentioned that I found interesting. Apparently, her family’s restaurant was doing the catering for the prom on Friday night and she was going to be there serving as a waitress.
After another two classes, lunchtime finally arrived and I walked quickly with my head down to the office of Mrs. Lake, I knocked once and she bid me to come inside.
“Ah Tyler, please sit down, would you like something to drink? Tea? Water? Soda?”
I noticed she had a kitchenette in her office, handy for hysterical students I suppose.
“Ah, no thank you.”
“If you’re hungry please go ahead and eat your lunch.”
I wasn’t hungry, but nodded anyway.
She picked up her own cup of tea and sat down in the soft brown leather couch opposite me.
“So, why don’t you go ahead and talk about what’s bothering you, I’m here to listen,”
“Okay, rather simple really. I’m gay and I think I’m in love with Brad Stevenson.” I paused, waiting for a reaction.
“Oh, well, I’m sure many girls and maybe a few other boys in the school know how you feel,”
“I doubt it, since a little more than a month ago we went to a gay club together and ended up back at his house. We didn’t have sex but we did… do stuff. But when we woke up in the morning he freaked out,” I sighed.
“Brad Stevenson, you say? I thought he was dating that Tara girl?”
“He is. Doesn’t like her though, he only stays with her to make his father happy and that is a whole other matter altogether. The problem here is, I know he likes me, I’m what he wants but he’s too much a chicken shit to admit it to himself. So every time we get close he panics and pushes me away. Apparently it takes 6 tequila shots and me getting attention from other men to even get a kiss out of him…”
Her face was still in a mixture of shock and intrigue.
“You’re really not making any of this up, are you?”
“I wish I were, I’d be in a whole lot less pain if it were fiction. Hell, he even had a professional grade fake ID made for me just so we could go to that stupid club.” I let out a discontented breath and continued to stare at the ground. It felt good to let it all out but it made it all so much more real having someone else know about it.
“So, any advice?”
“It seems he’s afraid of being gay.”
Duh
“I know that already, it’s mainly because of his father. They don’t exactly get on…”
“Enough said,” she said, holding up a hand “Hmm, you’re not openly gay are you?” she asked.
“No, only my mom, my friends and Brad know, and now you – oh and some kid in one of my classes accidentally found out, but he hasn’t said anything so I’m not too worried…” I shrugged.
“Maybe, I’m just speculating here, but maybe he thinks that if he takes that step and admits it to himself then he knows he’ll never be able to go back. He’s worried that you’ll reject him because he thinks you’re not ready to come out yet? And then all that pain of coming to terms with himself will be for nothing, in his eyes.”
“I’ve told him more than once that I like him, that way.”
“Yes, but he’s probably more insecure than you realize, especially if he has an unstable relationship with his father, which means he might need more than a few words to convince him. I think you might need to give him that last little push to convince him that you’re not going anywhere.”
In my mind, a plan was already forming. A push she said? Oh I can do that.
“So you've told me that you are in love with him. Have you told him the extent of your feelings?”
“I’m smart, remember, not insane.”
She chuckled a little.
“Maybe that’s all he needs to know, that someone really loves him?”
“I suppose you’re right but, come on, you can’t tell an 18 year old boy that you’re in love with them! He’ll freak out, again! I can’t take that kind of rejection twice from the same guy!”
She stayed quiet for a moment before wisely saying, “And what would you do if Brad said that he was in love with you?”
“Be completely nuthouse happy… Oh, I see what you did there.”
She smiled knowingly. What a smart lady. I like her.
“So I should tell him?” I asked, still unsure.
“If you’re certain that he feels similar, even if not the same, feelings for you then definitely yes.”
I gulped. Saying you were going to do something and actually doing it were two completely different things.
“I’ve got some things to think about, thank you Mrs. Lake, you have been very helpful,” I said very politely.
“Thank you for confiding in me, Tyler and also for being the first student in almost a month with an actually interesting problem.”
You Belong With Me...? Page 10