“Some lady was looking at me funny when she saw me walk back here,” Chris breathed to Jonathan. Their bodies were pressed together, hidden behind an over-sized dumpster, Jonathan's back against the side of the building. Chris was as close as he could get without his nose touching Jonathan's cheek. “She probably thought I was buying drugs.”
“She didn't recognize you?”
Chris softly laughed. “It surprised me, too. But, no, she didn't, which is very good.” He kept his mouth open and slowly crept his hand to Jonathan's hip. The corners of his mouth twitched upward a few times before he brought his lips together and pressed them to Jonathan's.
“When do you have to be home?” Jonathan asked as Chris pulled back slightly.
“Four, I think. What about you?”
“My mum said to call when I need to be picked up, so, whenever.” Chris smiled again and his hand slid under the hem of Jonathan's shirt.
“Perfect.” He leaned back in, this time not hesitating to catch Jonathan's lips. His thumb ran in circles across the smooth skin of Jonathan's abdomen, sending shivers through the other boy's body. Jonathan tilted his head back, his breath trembling as Chris moved his lips to the exposed skin of Jonathan's neck. His hand moved further and further down Jonathan's stomach until he reached the button of the charcoal trousers. Then he stopped. “Jon,” he breathlessly said, “I think I love you.”
“You- You love me?” Jonathan asked with wide eyes. He was surprised, certainly, but not appalled; if anything, his tone was hopeful and content.
“Well, I mean, I'm not an expert on the subject, but I wouldn't rule it out. And why wouldn't I be? You're charming, and intelligent, and oh so handsome.” He took his hand out from under Jonathan's shirt and gently brushed it through his hair. “We're both very lucky to have each other.”
“I could love you, too,” Jonathan smiled brightly. “If it is love, and... not just temptation.”
Chris thought about Jonathan's words, rolled them over in his head until they made nearly no sense. When his mind had enough of them, he looked directly at Jonathan and smiled at him with his eyes. “I do love you.”
Jonathan opened his mouth, but replaced his response with a kiss. Chris's hand found its way to the back of Jonathan's neck as he happily slipped his tongue into the other boy's mouth.
At four o'clock, Chris left, nearly sprinting out of sight as he realized that he was going to be late. Jonathan sat down and leaned against the dumpster, patiently waiting until it was safe for him to leave. He only waited five minutes instead of the usual ten, figuring that it would be a sufficient space of time. Luckily, he was right, but he knew he ought to have waited longer, especially when his mother asked him what he had done and he realized he hadn't thought up a story yet.
“Well, I just walked around, got some exercise,” he shrugged as the car breezed through their neighborhood. “Nothing exciting, really.”
“Devon didn't go with you?” his mother asked. “Or did he just leave early?”
“Uh, no, he didn't go with me. I forgot to ask him, actually.”
“Oh, a nice friend you are,” she sarcastically said. She momentarily took her eyes off the road to narrow them at her son. “You really walked around by yourself for nearly two hours?”
“Yes,” Jonathan snobbishly replied. He always felt that his mother was far too nosy, and this was no exception.
“Jonathan, why don't you try to make friends with the other boys? I've only ever seen you talk to Devon, and even then you hardly mention him.”
“I don't know, I guess I just don't find them very interesting. A lot of those boys are so arrogant and annoying. It's like all they care about is themselves.”
“Well, could you at least try to like them?” she asked. “It's sad to see you spend all your time alone in your room. You're a young boy, you're supposed to be out having fun and playing with other young boys.” Jonathan shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Enjoy your youth while it lasts, Jonathan, because one day you'll wake up and it will be far too late.”
Jonathan held up his hands in annoyance and whined, “Mum, you tell me this everyday. I am enjoying my youth, this is just the way I like to spend it is all.” His mother, though obviously reluctant, gave up the argument and allowed for silence to fill the car. Before they left the car, however, she spoke up one last time.
“Jonathan, I just wish that you'd be... a bit more social, you know? After all, your behavior reflects on your father and I, and so, if you don't interact with other people very often, well, it doesn't look good.” She motherly placed her hand on Jonathan's leg, and pleaded at him with her eyes. Jonathan hated to disappoint his mother, no matter how often he disliked her, so he quietly nodded to make her happy.
Jonathan's father was not one bit surprised when he heard of Jonathan's solitary afternoon. As the small family sat down to another night's meal, Randall poignantly criticized Jonathan for having what he basically called a “stale personality that no one would like.” Jonathan looked at his father, wrought with confusion, and even his mother was taken aback.
“I mean, you don't ever talk about anything. Do you even have any interests?” Jonathan was about to respond, but Randall cut him off by continuing, “You're always up in your room; I don't think I've seen you leave this house once in the past few weeks, save to go to school.”
“I went out yesterday,” Jonathan defended, though he quickly realized it was not the thing to do. Randall's eyes flashed with anger; clearly he had not finished with his thoughts.
“Excuse me?” was all he said, but it was so impassioned that Jonathan couldn't help cowering a little.
“I-I went out yesterday,” Jonathan repeated, much less confident than before. “I went to Devon's house and we walked around for a bit.”
“Devon.” Randall chewed the name, utterly disgusted with its flavor. “You're always hanging out with Devon. What is it with that kid? You got a thing for him or something?”
“What?”
“Randall!” Jonathan's mother incredulously exclaimed. “Randall, please, calm down.”
“Shut up, Penny, this doesn't concern you,” Randall spat, and Penny backed down. She glanced at Jonathan, who looked as if he were about to cry. What frightened him most was the casualness that Randall had when he threw around the idea that Jonathan could ever have feelings for another boy. It was almost as if Randall knew the truth, knew Jonathan's dirty secret, and this was his way of letting his son know. It was horrible, pernicious, and despicably abusive, and it was exactly how Randall would do it. So, naturally, Jonathan suspected the worst.
“I don't,” Jonathan quietly said, because he could feel Randall's expecting eyes boring holes through his head. “I don't have a thing for him.”
“Well, you spend an awful lot of time around him,” Randall replied. He was visibly trying to calm himself, but to no avail. Definitively, he said, “Tomorrow, you're getting new friends.”
Jonathan thought it was one of the most ridiculous things his father could have commanded him to do, but he didn't dare argue. He nodded, finished eating, then went up to the quiet sanctuary that was his bedroom. He was in there not fifteen minutes when his mother knocked on the door.
“Jonathan,” she said to him as they both sat on the bed, “don't let what your father said bother you, OK? You know he didn't mean anything he said.”
“So I don't have a stale personality?” Jonathan bitterly asked. Penny lovingly pat down a few locks of Jonathan's hair and sighed.
“Of course not, sweetie,” she kindly said. “And what he said about Devon, I know it's not true. You wouldn't do something like that.”
Jonathan furrowed his eyebrows, half in confusion and half in guilt. “What do you mean?”
“Oh, you're just a little shy is all. You'll find a girl one day, we know. Your father's just a little anxious about it.”
“So, you mean to say that he thinks I'm gay or something?” Jonathan looked down to the floor, a strange feeling sweeping over him. He felt like this was some made-for-TV moment where he and his mother would have a heartfelt talk, and he would finally have the courage to come out to her. It wasn't though; it was far from made-for-TV, and he wasn't actually gay, anyway. Still, the feeling overwhelmed him, and he was about to say something to his mother that he really shouldn't have, when the ringing of the phone drifted from the other room.
Jonathan froze with terror as he watched his mother leave to answer the phone, the realization of what he almost did hitting him like a hard slap to the face, painful and burning, and turning him beet red. He looked down at his hands, and wondered how he could be the same person, or if he even was the same person. Why would he do a stupid thing like tell his mother about Chris? That would obviously be stupid.
In any case, he was thankfully saved by whoever had decided to call the house, and he was keen on making certain that he would not slip up like that again. When he realized that either the phone call was going to take a while, or his mother was simply not coming back to his room, he decided to sneak downstairs and outside. It was pretty easy, as he found his father asleep in front of the TV.
The evening sky was streaked with pink from the setting sun, a light, fluffy color that reminded Jonathan of how beautiful the world really could be. After all, he was in love. He was supposed to be happy, not fearful. Or, if he was fearful, it was supposed to be because he was so in love that he was afraid to lose it, not because he was in love with the wrong person. But, he was in love with the wrong person- not to him of course, but to the rest of the world- and no amount of prettiness in the sky could help that.
Jonathan kept his head down for most of the time that he was out, which was a rather long time. He hadn't realized it until he noticed that he was only seconds away from walking into the school, a distance that was five minutes from his house in a car alone. He looked up to see that the pink was now a threateningly dark shade of purple, and that stars were dotted everywhere on the canvas of sky. Yet, as anxious as he was now to get home, he was equally unwilling to turn around and walk back. There was something about being out when his parents hadn't known he had left that was freeing. Exhilarating.
Jonathan crossed the street and walked down the nearly empty sidewalk. He passed the diner, and smiled to himself as he looked down the alleyway. Things had gone swimmingly well that afternoon, much better than he could have hoped for. Once again he spaced out, this time with thoughts of Chris and his exploring hands, and when he came to he noticed a man walking towards him. Everything was dark now, so Jonathan could just barely see the outline of the man, let alone his face.
He drew closer, and bit by bit Jonathan saw more of the man. As they passed each other, Jonathan looked closely at the man, who gave him a cheeky smile before casually whistling. Jonathan stopped dead in his tracks and did a double-take; was that really Chris? Just as Jonathan turned to get an even better look, a hand firmly grabbed his arm and pulled him deeper into the darkness.
“Jon, what are you doing out here at this time of night?” Chris asked as they stopped in back of a nearby building. Through the darkness, Jonathan could see the whites of Chris's wide eyes. “You didn't purposely come looking for me, did you?”
“No, of course not, I was just trying to get away from my parents. I didn't even realize I was so close to your house...”
“Yes, I only live a few minutes from here. Anyway, why were you trying to get away from your parents?” Chris asked with a sincerity that almost knocked Jonathan backwards.
“Um, they're just... being difficult,” Jonathan replied, trying to bury the memory of his almost-mistake. “What were you doing out here?”
“I always take a walk at night, it helps me keep my fit figure,” Chris said, puffing out his chest, even though he wasn't visible in the dark. “Ah, but I'm particularly glad for it tonight, since perhaps it was meant that we would run into each other.”
“It was?”
“Oh, yes. And I have something to tell you, because you are such a jealous boy.” Chris paused momentarily to build the suspense. “My parents have requested I take this young lady, the daughter of a family friend, to dinner tomorrow night. Now, Jonathan, I can't make any promises as to what my actions may or may not be. It's all an act, you know that, but it is very well said that a good actor must play the part with utter persuasion.”
“Of course, I understand completely,” Jonathan said. He knew he had to accept this information, no matter how envious he was, simply because he had no choice. If he had been bold, he would have done something courageous after, like kiss Chris on the cheek, or if he was more daring, on the lips. Chris held all the confidence between them, though, so it was he who made his move on Jonathan, embracing him in such a tight hug that was actually far more courageous than anything else he could have done. It was mostly to let the other boy know that despite whatever was to happen the following evening, Chris's important heart belonged only to Jonathan.
“Goodnight, Jon,” Chris beamed as they parted ways.
“Goodnight, Chris,” Jonathan sang in reply. In the seconds before they both began to walk away, he was faced with the difficulty of getting the words to come out of his mouth. He really wanted to tell Chris he loved him, but he stammered for so long that it was soon too late. He instantly felt bad about it, as it seemed like Chris had nearly poured his heart out before, so he mentally slapped himself and decided that next time he would be brave enough.
The outline of the tall, curly-haired boy slowly disappeared as he walked further away, and Jonathan knew that it was time for him to return home. He only hoped that it was late enough for his parents to have gone to bed without waiting for him to return, or maybe even without noticing he'd left at all.
Not only had it gotten so amazingly dark since he left, it was now also ten degrees cooler. Jonathan had luckily worn his jacket, though the thin fabric did not provide much warmth. He walked the entire way home thinking about how nice it had been to hug Chris, and how warm he felt. He could feel Chris's hot breath on his neck then, too, though now the memory of it made him shiver with excitement.
He remembered a time when these thoughts and feelings were new and strange, and now they were nothing out of the ordinary to him. Still, though, he welcomed them with open arms, because he never felt better than when he was with Chris, physically and mentally.
The door of his house was surprisingly unlocked, even though his parents seemed to have gone to sleep. But he realized as he snuck up to his room that they had probably noticed his absence, and left the door unlocked because they knew he would come back. That almost made Jonathan angry, almost made him want to go back out into the night and stay there forever, or at least until the next day when the sun rose and he would have to go to school. He couldn't do that, though, because he was ill-prepared and cowardly. There was no way he would make it on his own.
Jonathan wasn't tired when he lay his head down on his pillow, so he imagined running away once more. If Chris could come with him... but Chris wouldn't do that. He was far too promising to his parents and to the world to give it up for some shy, loser boy who was just trying to run away from his dumb, insignificant problems. That's when Jonathan realized how ridiculous he was being. He'd been lucky enough to have two parents that loved him most of the time, had provided him with food and shelter for the past fifteen years, and had sent him to one of the top private schools around. And, to top it all off, he was loved by the most amazing boy in all of England. Really, what was there to run away from?
Finding no answer, Jonathan allowed himself to fall asleep. In his dreams, he was even more relaxed than he had felt while awake, which was a pretty terrific feat. He couldn't remember any of his dreams when he woke up, though, but he did wake up grinning widely at the luck he'd had in his life. The only thing that could have brought his spirits down was hearing his mother quietly weeping at his door.
Penny was standing in the doorway, watching as her only son slowly rose out of bed. A few drops splashed down her cheek, falling and wetting the collar of her floral nightgown. Jonathan noticed her, and a look of despair painted over his smile. Neither of the two said a thing, but the painful silence billowed and stretched out to every corner of the room, and spoke volumes more than any words could. Eventually Penny left, allowing for her son to get dressed.
The silence followed them, sitting obnoxiously in between the seats in the car. It kicked and stabbed at Jonathan until finally he couldn't take it anymore.
“I'm sorry,” he kept saying. “Sorry. So sorry.”
His mother looked at him, eyes drenched in sadness, and weakly asked, “Why?”
“I just... I couldn't take it, being there,” Jonathan answered. “I just wanted to get out and walk around for a bit, I didn't mean to be gone for so long.”
Penny returned her attention to the road. “Where did you even go?”
“I walked into town,” he said, and noticing the look of shock on his mother's face, he added, “I didn't plan on it, though, I just kept walking and suddenly I was by the school.”
“When did you come home?” Jonathan shrugged.
“I don't know what time it was. It was dark... and cold.” Jonathan turned to his mother and pleaded, “But mum, I swear I was coming back, I wasn't leaving forever.” Penny silently nodded and said nothing for a while.
“I didn't tell your father,” she significantly told him as the car stopped in front of the school. “I thought it was best not to.”
“Thank you,” Jonathan said, and she silently nodded her head as he left the car. He felt miserable as he walked up to the building, until he passed by the group of boys that always congregated by the door. Chris was talking to one of the other boys, but as Jonathan passed he lifted his hand to his heart and quickly glanced over.
“Jon!” a voice called from behind. Jonathan turned around to see Devon running towards him. “Hey.”
“Hi,” Jonathan replied as they entered the building.
“Do you want to hang out after school?” Devon asked, bouncing around the hall. “Kirsten's not gonna be home, so she won't bother us.”
“Uh, yeah, sure.” Jonathan stopped and opened his locker, and Devon hung on the door. “Though my dad thinks we hang out too much.”
“Oh... Do you still have that football game?”
“Yeah, why, are you just using me for it?” Jonathan laughed as he pulled a book from his backpack.
“Yep,” Devon unflinchingly said. He took his hands off the locker door and began to walk away. “OK, so, after school, then. See ya.”
“Yeah, bye.” Jonathan quickly finished at his locker and headed to his first class. The day went by abnormally fast, and it only seemed like a few minutes before he was sitting in the cafeteria, slowly eating his lunch.
Jonathan sat at a table with Devon and a few other boys, like always. There was Tom, Steve, Matt, Crack, and Spencer. They were all the least respected boys in the school, except for Devon. Devon actually had the potential to be in the group of popular boys, but he was much more comfortable around this particular group. He was basically their leader, something he could never have been elsewhere.
Jonathan was the anti-social one, never saying more than a few words here and there, even when he was amongst friends. Tom was an American, so no one really liked him very much. Steve and Matt were twins, skinny blond boys whose father had recently been put in jail for selling illicit substances to underage kids. Crack was one of those kids, and no one could actually remember his real name. Even he had trouble remembering it sometimes. Then there was Spencer.
Spencer was the weirdest person alive. He collected a number of items, none of which were really normal for people to collect. One was icicles, which he safely stored in a small freezer he kept in his bedroom. Another was hair, and everyone was honestly frightened to ask how he accumulated such a large and varying supply. This week's main thing seemed to be forks. Every time someone at the table finished eating, Spencer would reach over and steal their utensils without saying a word. He was crazy.
Today, Devon and Matt had taken to pointing at random boys around the cafeteria and throwing their heaviest insults. They picked at everything, from clothes (though they all wore the same uniform) to speech to even eye color. Jonathan wasn't really paying much attention to them, until something they said caught his ear.
“...curly-haired bastard... and he's as tall as a freaking giraffe!” Matt shouted. Devon nervously chuckled and whispered something in his ear. “Ugh, man, that's freaking nasty!”
“I know,” Devon said, frowning and slightly leaning back in his chair. “So, curly-haired giraffe bastard... How about clown-faced douchebag?”
“Ah, I like that one.” Matt looked over at Chris and narrowed his eyes. “The pretty little mayor's son... wonder how his father would feel if he knew his kid was sleeping with every girl he sees?”
“Man, you're just jealous 'cause girls hate you,” Devon laughed. “You can take my sister if you want, even though she's got it bad for Jonny.” Jonathan looked at him with terror.
“Please don't remind me,” he said. “Anyway, I hope you guys realize that half of what you say isn't even true.”
“No, I know this is true,” Matt insisted. “You don't wanna know how, but I swear I've... well, it's true.” Jonathan gave him his best look of disbelief and returned to eating his sandwich. Devon and Matt continued to insult Chris until it was time for them to leave, and they even carried it into the hall for a bit. Of course, once they realized that they were walking right behind Chris, they stopped.
That afternoon, Jonathan was only at his house for about ten minutes to change into non-school clothes, before he left for Devon's house. He didn't exactly tell his parents where he was going, for fear that they might make a fuss about it, so he simply said, “I'm going out, I'll be back later.”
“Oh, where are you going?” Penny asked, peering her head around the kitchen wall to see Jonathan standing by the door.
“Out... with friends.”
“Oh... OK. Don't be gone too long,” she said, and returned to her work in the other room as Jonathan quickly left before his father, who was for some reason home early, could chime in.
Devon was already waiting on the porch when Jonathan arrived, sitting impatiently and looking much like a little child. As Jonathan walked up the small path from the sidewalk to the house, Devon sprung up and leaped inside, not waiting for Jonathan to walk into the house, but kindly leaving the door open for him. Jonathan knew the routine, though, and he shut the door behind him and walked up the stairs to Devon's room without thinking twice.
As expected, Devon was already comfortably laying on his bed by the time Jonathan made it into the room. Jonathan took a seat in the old, beaten bean bag chair that occupied one solitary corner. He threw the case for the game he was holding at Devon, who managed to catch it without making a fool of himself. Devon looked at it, made a sour face, then tossed it aside.
“I don't really feel like playing anymore,” he said in a somber tone.
“Is everything all right?” Jonathan politely asked, and Devon hopped down to the floor, leaning against his bed and sitting cross-legged.
“You don't have any sisters, so you wouldn't understand,” Devon brooded.
“Kirsten, again... What did she do this time, steal your shoes for real?”
Devon shook his head, and messed with the hem of his pants. “She's got a date tonight.”
“A date?” Jonathan said, almost laughing. “Isn't she, like, ten?”
“She's thirteen. And I agree, I think it's a little young.”
“So, you've got the whole overprotective brother thing going on, then?”
“I guess so,” Devon quietly replied. He continued to look down at his lap for two more seconds before looking up at Jonathan with bright eyes. “Hey, take my mind off of it.”
“How?”
“I don't know, sing or something,” Devon shrugged.
“Sing?!” Jonathan laughed. There was no way in hell he would ever sing, especially not at the request of Devon. Devon accepted this defeat instantaneously, though, and then glanced around the room. He picked up the case he had discarded a minute earlier and reached for his game console.
“Let's play football, then.” Devon quickly inserted the disc into its proper location, and threw a controller at Jonathan.
They played the game for hours, never even pausing the screen until there was a knock at the door. It was Devon's mother, there to inform the boys that she was leaving to drive Kirsten to her date, and that dinner was on the stove. Devon absentmindedly “OK”ed her, then switched back to the game as quickly as he could.
Jonathan left soon after, listing his mother's imminent worry as the reason he needed to return home. As he was walking back, his wandering mind joined two facts together: Kirsten had a date that night, and so did Chris. It had never even crossed his mind until then that the two could have something to do with each other, and as the light from his house came creeping into view he prayed that they didn't.
His prayers were unanswered, sadly, as it turned out that Devon's family had some sort of connection with Chris's. The parents of the two families had gotten together and arranged for Chris to take Kirsten out to dinner, even though both were still very young. They agreed to it, of course, because they had no choice.
Overall, it wasn't a bad night. The food tasted quite all right, and there was hardly ever a dull moment in their conversation. Of course, most of what Kirsten said had to do with Jonathan, though Chris really didn't mind that at all. He did mind that he couldn't tell her he agreed with the things she said, that he too thought Jonathan said “crinkle-cut” in the most delightful way, but he was used to holding back his feelings.
When their dinner was finished, Chris sweetly offered to walk Kirsten home, an offer which she gladly accepted. Kirsten was far more upfront than he expected her to be, and as they began to walk down the dark street she slipped her hand into his. He smiled at her and wraps his fingers around hers, telling himself it was all an act.
While walking through the darkness, Kirsten suddenly pulled Chris off to the side of the road, much like he had done to Jonathan the night before.
“Chris,” she said, walking backwards and leading him to wherever she planned, “I have to ask you something.” She stopped once she felt they were far enough into the darkness, and Chris waited for her to continue. “I've heard you're very... knowledgeable about this sort of thing.”
“Come on, spit it out,” he impatiently urged. She looked at him and took a deep breath.
“I was... saving myself for Jonny, but... maybe you could help me practice?” Chris's eyes immediately flashed wide.
“Uh, Kirsten, I-”
“Please,” she pleaded with big eyes. “Please, I need your help.”
“I...” Chris looked hard at Kirsten. She was a pretty girl, and maybe she already knew a thing or two. And she was so pressing, with those desperate eyes and pouting lips. They were really pink, her lips, and her eyes were so dark and full of desire. She really wanted him, really wanted his help. It was all an act. “I suppose.”
“Oh, thank you!” Kirsten smiled and kissed him on the cheek. She paused for a moment, then kissed him again, repeating this action over and over until she got to his lips. It was quite obvious that she was new to this sort of thing. “Um, you have done this before, right?” Chris smiled and raised his eyebrows to indicate that Yes, you're not the first, and Kirsten confidently smiled at him.
Kirsten stepped back and took no time removing her shirt. She stood for a few seconds, blouse in hand, before realizing how cold it was out. She started to shiver, but she tried her hardest to ignore it as she walked back in front of Chris. “Go on, then,” she said.
Chris firmly grabbed her waist and pulled her in for a kiss, slowly moving down until he reached her exposed bra. By that time, Kirsten had gotten so impatient that she pushed him back and grabbed for his belt buckle, almost professionally undoing it. He stood in shock as she quickly unbuttoned his pants then moved on to her own. He had little time for standing around, though, as within a few moments she pulled him down to the ground.
“You're certainly in a rush,” he awkwardly said as she lay on top of him, her hair pushed over to one shoulder.
“Shut up,” she whispered, and proceeded to cover as much of his skin as she could with her lips. Chris laughed at her spunk as she made her way down his chest. It was all an act, but he was kinda enjoying it.
Certainly, having sex with Kirsten was not something that Chris had planned on for that evening, but it wasn't so bad. He had to hold back some laughter, though, when he realized that there was a high chance they were both thinking of Jonathan.
