Sour Sixteen
My parents are splitting. Not a divorce, but “giving each other space”. What ever the fuck that means. I’m sixteen, normal when the moon is full, and I have no idea what to do. I’m moving out with my mom soon. Leaving the house, leaving the room, that I have lived in since I was in kindergarden. Because my dad hit that fucked up time where men go fucking out of their minds and take their anger, lack of self fulfillment, and their general idiocy out of the woman they have been married to for almost twenty years. Because they can.
So I’m expected to keep good grades, not let any of my friends know, not get fat and depressed, and oh for added fun, try not to come out of the closet all over my best friend. Because although you can’t rape the willing, they need to be, omg, willing for it to work.
And liking men helps out a lot.
At the moment we are sitting in his backyard, parents are off on another trip, leaning back to back, playing twenty questions. A tuff of chocolate brown hair has drifted down over my shoulder, and I’m trying not to be a creeper and rub it all over my face. Cause that scares straight guys apparently.
“Anything interesting happening in the world of Alex?” His voice drifts over me, mixing with the sweet scent of the grass and the warmth of the sun on my back relaxing my tense muscles. I awkwardly shifted the one strand of my copper hair that is long enough to fly away behind my ear.
“Ahh… well… not much really.” I felt him tense against my back, and I was thankful I couldn’t see Shawn’s expression; his green eyes are the only things capable of making me feel guilty. Suddenly he half turned, and his head was suddenly resting on my shoulder. Shit.
“I would love it so much if you stopped lying to me. That would be spectacular.” I curled my arms around my torso, for comfort I guess. His reproachfull tone made me want to leap on him and hug, tear up, and stick my hands down his pants all at the same time. Which would be awkward, to say the least.
“My parents are splitting. I’m moving halfway across town.” He jerked against my shoulder. A few seconds later, his concerned face was dangersouly close to mine. Pale, freckle spotted, lickable skin was so close to mine. All the stress, anger, borderline depression, isolation from my friends, and hormones over whelmed me.
I wrapped my arms around him in the first real hug I had given since I was twelve. I resisted the urge to bury my head in the crook of his neck, barely. But instead I simply squeezed, holding him for as long as I dared.
“Sorry dude-“ my voice cracked “I’m a little stressed right now, you know? Its all kinda pushing in-“ I was startled into silence by the feel of his arms wrapping themselves tightly around me. In the first hug I had been given since before I could remember.
“I can’t say that I know… but I’ll be here.” Yeah well, if I rape you that might change, you sexy asshole. Too bad you’re the only one besides my mom who realizes that I’m not just “being a trooper”.
-------
Shawn was sitting half naked on his bed as I walked in, mid sentence, with a tooth brush hanging off my hand.
“Hey man, did you finish your Gov home…” I stared at the smooth planes of his chest, framed by the royal blue cotton of his sheets. He was starring at a magazine, not watching, thankfully. He stretched, and I swear my dick tried to escape my pants. Bad deal.
I stuttered, blushing and tripping out the room and into the bathroom down the hall. I slammed the door on his confused protest before I leaned on the black counter top. I stared at my reflection in the mirror, hating each inch of me.
Ugly course copper spikes, sallow pale skin, lean girlish body, nothing like the rippling curves and planes of Shawn’s body. His eyes are green, green like fresh cut grass in the summer. Just as hot and humid. While my eyes were the pale washed out blue of some one who doesn’t know how they will survive the next day.
I felt disgusting, getting aroused all the time around him. Like I actually was a rapist. Me, this ugly, hideous bodied emotional slob, coveting his beautiful body and his happy smile and his normal happy life.
I was staining the canvas that was Shawn. I slid shaking to the floor. God I was messed up. I’m sarcastic, apathetic and so scared of my life I have no idea how I’m going to make it through. And I wanted to be touched, loved, held. Okay, a good fuck might do it.
But through the fog of my messed up mind, I knew I wanted Shawn. And Shawn would flip out if I did anything. I knew it, knew it deep in my bones where the resolve that life isn’t fair or happy lives. I wasn’t mad about liking guys, although for me it seems as if I simply never got around to liking girls, I was just mad that I like this guy.
I was startled out of my reserve by the door shaking, and Shawn’s worried voice drifting through the wood. I jerked, hitting my head on the drawer handle, cursing.
“Hey dude, you okay? You just kind flipped out.” I snorted and rubbed the back of my head, trying to soothe the sore spot. I ignored the rest of his words, simply trying to claw myself back together. I was plashing cold water onto my face when the door swung open to reveal a pleased looking Shawn kneeling with a slim piece of metal in his hand.
His grin faded as I turned my head to stare at him. I guess I didn’t look so hot. Surprise surprise. He stared at me, the metal rod dropping to the floor. I stared back a few moments before jerkly flashing a fake grin and running my hand through my hair. I notice my hands are shaking, and I twist quickly before cramming my hands under the water flow. I’m scrubbing the same spot on my palm without any soap for at least a minute before Shawn says anything.
“Hey dude… are you okay? I didn’t realize it was this bad… if you would just talk it out… it might help” I choked on my own laugh as I heard his uncertain tones. Obviously he’d noticed my odd behavior lately… although most of my freak outs steamed from very different reasons that what he might guess.
And that mystery is one that wont be solved for a long while… more like never. Because being alienated from the only person who gets me, talks to me, and makes me smile. Being horny is kinda of an added bonus I guess.
I ignore him and concentrate on getting my hands to stop shaking. I was staring so hard at the furious scraping of my hands that I didn’t see him raise up. I gasped, hands flying into the metal of the faucet, as he touched my shoulder gently.
I met his eyes in the mirror… and he gasped as if he’d seen something terrible. Thanks, that makes me feel real good. I stared at him, trying not to undress him with my eyes. I opened my mouth to spout off some sort of lie about lack of sleep when his arms suddenly wrapped themselves around me.
Heaven on earth. I wished I was shirtless so I could feel the warmth of his skin. I relaxed as he rested his chin on my shoulder. I shuddered violently, holding in tears, but he weathered the storm. Holding me tight while I figure out if I wanted to stay in my head.
I wanted to be held like this all the time. Hugs from your mother only go so far. Besides, I might be gay, but I’m still male and I’m still subject to twentieth century male behavior conditioning. I wanted him to hold me because he wanted me, not because I was the messed up fuck he had the misfortune to be friends with.
Thoughts were bouncing off the inside of my head. Ideas of what I could say, or do or anything that I could accomplish to all at one make him want me and make this all go away.
Needless to say, I wasn’t in the best state of mind. Which I’m going to go ahead and use as an excuse for my next actions.
I twisted, his arms fell away, and I suddenly, for no reason, felt a bone deep chill. We were close, really close.
And I lost my freeking mind. I lunged forward, snatching him up in my arms. He choked something out as I knocked him backwards into the wall. I pressed flush against him, barely holding in a groan at all that delicious human contact. He stared at me, those big beautiful eyes boring into mine. His lips parted, lush and pink, and I… lost my mind.
The kiss was deep and arousing and soothed the chafing of my soul. Sounds stupid, but until your life falls apart, shut it. My hands were every where, grabbing and smoothing and groping, certain this was the first and last time.
But then my mind trickled back in though the same hole it drained out of. I jerked back, staring at his shocked visage for only a moment. Then I ran as fast as my twig legs would go.
So I’m expected to keep good grades, not let any of my friends know, not get fat and depressed, and oh for added fun, try not to come out of the closet all over my best friend. Because although you can’t rape the willing, they need to be, omg, willing for it to work.
And liking men helps out a lot.
At the moment we are sitting in his backyard, parents are off on another trip, leaning back to back, playing twenty questions. A tuff of chocolate brown hair has drifted down over my shoulder, and I’m trying not to be a creeper and rub it all over my face. Cause that scares straight guys apparently.
“Anything interesting happening in the world of Alex?” His voice drifts over me, mixing with the sweet scent of the grass and the warmth of the sun on my back relaxing my tense muscles. I awkwardly shifted the one strand of my copper hair that is long enough to fly away behind my ear.
“Ahh… well… not much really.” I felt him tense against my back, and I was thankful I couldn’t see Shawn’s expression; his green eyes are the only things capable of making me feel guilty. Suddenly he half turned, and his head was suddenly resting on my shoulder. Shit.
“I would love it so much if you stopped lying to me. That would be spectacular.” I curled my arms around my torso, for comfort I guess. His reproachfull tone made me want to leap on him and hug, tear up, and stick my hands down his pants all at the same time. Which would be awkward, to say the least.
“My parents are splitting. I’m moving halfway across town.” He jerked against my shoulder. A few seconds later, his concerned face was dangersouly close to mine. Pale, freckle spotted, lickable skin was so close to mine. All the stress, anger, borderline depression, isolation from my friends, and hormones over whelmed me.
I wrapped my arms around him in the first real hug I had given since I was twelve. I resisted the urge to bury my head in the crook of his neck, barely. But instead I simply squeezed, holding him for as long as I dared.
“Sorry dude-“ my voice cracked “I’m a little stressed right now, you know? Its all kinda pushing in-“ I was startled into silence by the feel of his arms wrapping themselves tightly around me. In the first hug I had been given since before I could remember.
“I can’t say that I know… but I’ll be here.” Yeah well, if I rape you that might change, you sexy asshole. Too bad you’re the only one besides my mom who realizes that I’m not just “being a trooper”.
-------
Shawn was sitting half naked on his bed as I walked in, mid sentence, with a tooth brush hanging off my hand.
“Hey man, did you finish your Gov home…” I stared at the smooth planes of his chest, framed by the royal blue cotton of his sheets. He was starring at a magazine, not watching, thankfully. He stretched, and I swear my dick tried to escape my pants. Bad deal.
I stuttered, blushing and tripping out the room and into the bathroom down the hall. I slammed the door on his confused protest before I leaned on the black counter top. I stared at my reflection in the mirror, hating each inch of me.
Ugly course copper spikes, sallow pale skin, lean girlish body, nothing like the rippling curves and planes of Shawn’s body. His eyes are green, green like fresh cut grass in the summer. Just as hot and humid. While my eyes were the pale washed out blue of some one who doesn’t know how they will survive the next day.
I felt disgusting, getting aroused all the time around him. Like I actually was a rapist. Me, this ugly, hideous bodied emotional slob, coveting his beautiful body and his happy smile and his normal happy life.
I was staining the canvas that was Shawn. I slid shaking to the floor. God I was messed up. I’m sarcastic, apathetic and so scared of my life I have no idea how I’m going to make it through. And I wanted to be touched, loved, held. Okay, a good fuck might do it.
But through the fog of my messed up mind, I knew I wanted Shawn. And Shawn would flip out if I did anything. I knew it, knew it deep in my bones where the resolve that life isn’t fair or happy lives. I wasn’t mad about liking guys, although for me it seems as if I simply never got around to liking girls, I was just mad that I like this guy.
I was startled out of my reserve by the door shaking, and Shawn’s worried voice drifting through the wood. I jerked, hitting my head on the drawer handle, cursing.
“Hey dude, you okay? You just kind flipped out.” I snorted and rubbed the back of my head, trying to soothe the sore spot. I ignored the rest of his words, simply trying to claw myself back together. I was plashing cold water onto my face when the door swung open to reveal a pleased looking Shawn kneeling with a slim piece of metal in his hand.
His grin faded as I turned my head to stare at him. I guess I didn’t look so hot. Surprise surprise. He stared at me, the metal rod dropping to the floor. I stared back a few moments before jerkly flashing a fake grin and running my hand through my hair. I notice my hands are shaking, and I twist quickly before cramming my hands under the water flow. I’m scrubbing the same spot on my palm without any soap for at least a minute before Shawn says anything.
“Hey dude… are you okay? I didn’t realize it was this bad… if you would just talk it out… it might help” I choked on my own laugh as I heard his uncertain tones. Obviously he’d noticed my odd behavior lately… although most of my freak outs steamed from very different reasons that what he might guess.
And that mystery is one that wont be solved for a long while… more like never. Because being alienated from the only person who gets me, talks to me, and makes me smile. Being horny is kinda of an added bonus I guess.
I ignore him and concentrate on getting my hands to stop shaking. I was staring so hard at the furious scraping of my hands that I didn’t see him raise up. I gasped, hands flying into the metal of the faucet, as he touched my shoulder gently.
I met his eyes in the mirror… and he gasped as if he’d seen something terrible. Thanks, that makes me feel real good. I stared at him, trying not to undress him with my eyes. I opened my mouth to spout off some sort of lie about lack of sleep when his arms suddenly wrapped themselves around me.
Heaven on earth. I wished I was shirtless so I could feel the warmth of his skin. I relaxed as he rested his chin on my shoulder. I shuddered violently, holding in tears, but he weathered the storm. Holding me tight while I figure out if I wanted to stay in my head.
I wanted to be held like this all the time. Hugs from your mother only go so far. Besides, I might be gay, but I’m still male and I’m still subject to twentieth century male behavior conditioning. I wanted him to hold me because he wanted me, not because I was the messed up fuck he had the misfortune to be friends with.
Thoughts were bouncing off the inside of my head. Ideas of what I could say, or do or anything that I could accomplish to all at one make him want me and make this all go away.
Needless to say, I wasn’t in the best state of mind. Which I’m going to go ahead and use as an excuse for my next actions.
I twisted, his arms fell away, and I suddenly, for no reason, felt a bone deep chill. We were close, really close.
And I lost my freeking mind. I lunged forward, snatching him up in my arms. He choked something out as I knocked him backwards into the wall. I pressed flush against him, barely holding in a groan at all that delicious human contact. He stared at me, those big beautiful eyes boring into mine. His lips parted, lush and pink, and I… lost my mind.
The kiss was deep and arousing and soothed the chafing of my soul. Sounds stupid, but until your life falls apart, shut it. My hands were every where, grabbing and smoothing and groping, certain this was the first and last time.
But then my mind trickled back in though the same hole it drained out of. I jerked back, staring at his shocked visage for only a moment. Then I ran as fast as my twig legs would go.
