Knight in Black Armor

1

“Hey, Elliot!”

My head snapped up and I looked at the fence to my backyard to see Devon, my best friend. He looked at me with an excited smile, one that told me he had a fun idea in mind. . . but that idea would probably get me in trouble. Though did it really matter? Ever? All his idea's got me in trouble yet I kept going along with them anyway. Yet he never got in trouble! How did he never get caught? I ran over to the fence with a smile on my face nevertheless.

“What's up, Devon?” I asked, grabbing the fence.

“I want to show you something.”

“What is it?”

“I don't want to tell you! You have to come and see.”

“Hmm. . . but I have to cut the grass and all. . .”

Devon looked back at the yard then back at me. “You'll be back with plenty of time to do that! Now come on, I want to show you something!”

“I can't just go back in the house and come out, dad will see me!” I said with a terrified expression. No doubt, my father scared the hell out of me. He was a scary man. Abusive and a drunk too.

“So climb over the fence. It's not that high.” Though when we both looked up at the top we could see just how high it really was. It must have been like, nine feet up. My father really wanted me to feel trapped in here.

“I'll fall!” I squeaked.

“I'll catch you,” Devon spoke with such certainty that I couldn't say “no”. Nodding, more to me than to him, I put my foot in the holes of the fence and began climbing. It felt like forever before I got to the top. And when I did get to the top, I clung to the fence beneath me, not wanting to move. Devon and the ground seemed so far down. I felt like a cat stuck in a tree.

“What are you waiting for? Hurry up and jump!” Devon called, holding his arms out to catch me.

“I don't want to! It's too far down!” I squeaked again, my fear of heights taking me over. The fence was starting to hurt my chest and stomach, and other delicate parts, as it pressed against me.

“Stop being a baby! You can't stay up there forever! Think about your dad! Think about what he'd do if he caught you up there!”

My weakness: the fear of my father and his temper.

“You're not playing fair!” I whined.

“Never said I would,” he grinned.

“What about when we get back? Will you climb over first and still catch me?” I asked, just now thinking about that.

“If you want. Now hurry up and jump!”

“You'll catch me?”

“Definitely!”

I nodded again, then slowly released my hold on the fence and moved so that I could jump. When I did, Devon caught me like he said. Though with our tiny bodies we ended up crashing into each other and falling to the ground. Of course, what eight year old could actually catch someone like they did in the movies?

Our tiny, boy bodies hit the grass in my neighbors yard. Neighbors who were never home. Always out partying. I lived in a bad neighborhood, unlike Devon. But he didn't care. He kept coming to hang out with me anyway. He was like a knight in shining black armor to me. Black just because his whole appearance screamed out “dark”. He had black hair and midnight blue eyes. The way he looked completely contrasted with the way I looked. I had blond hair and chocolate brown eyes.

That wasn't the only thing different about us either. He was rich and had nice, clean looking clothes, he came from a good family who all loved him. I was poor and though I dressed normally I had a father who no doubt hated me and a mother who was a stripper and just let my dad do whatever the hell he wanted. Also, Devon was smarter than me. I was average, he was better. He was an eight year old as smart as a ten year old, maybe even older. It was all those books he read. It must have been. . .

Though despite our differences, Devon told me that when we were old enough he'd take me far away from my corrupt parents and we'd live together in an apartment and go to the same college. We'd marry two pretty girls and have kids and live right next to each other. Though I'd never tell him, but I didn't want to marry a girl. Though I guess I was just at that age where I didn't like girls. They did have cooties after all.

“Come on, lets hurry up and go before your grumpy dad comes to check on you!” Devon said as we got up from the ground. “We got like what, a few hours before he remembers you exist?”

I nodded. “That sounds right.” I had resist the urge to ask him how long a few hours was.

Sometimes I hated him for being so much smarter than me.

After we decided we had a few hours we took off like a couple of bats out of hell and down the street. Little did I know of just how much trouble I'd get in later that day.

I wake up to the horrid sound of my alarm clock buzzing off. Groaning, and not even bothering to open my eyes, I roll over and slam my hand down on the clock, shutting the alarm off. I open one eye and peek at the clock. Shit, it's already 7:47AM. How many times did I hit the snooze button in my subconsciousness? Cause I sure as hell don't remember hitting it while conscious. I'm late for school. It starts at 7:30AM.

Sighing I sit up on my bed and rub my face with my palms while yawning. Ugh, what a dream. Since when do people dream about past events? Isn't it supposed to be a world of fiction and nothing else? A dream of nine years ago, back when Devon and I were kids. A happy time, yet a dark time too—thanks to my beloved parents. Though happy 'cause Devon was there with me. Though he still is, things are more complicated now. We're teenagers now. Seventeen. And driven by our hormones.

I look around my dim room and see clothes scattered across the floor. I'm not sure if this is a happier time or if my childhood was. After all, back then I had Devon all to myself. Now I have to share him with all his girlfriends. Though he dumps them quickly enough, it still sucks when he goes to have sex with them, rather than hang out with me.

I've had one girlfriend, and frankly I don't know how Devon gets a kick from making out with them or anything. There was no lust with her, no desire or need. After I broke up with her, I realized that my sexuality isn't the same as my womanizing best friend. Of course I end up being gay. And of course he ends up being straight. Isn't it just beautiful how life works out sometimes?

I walk across my wooden floor and to my hamper, where my clean clothes are hanging out of. I don't have a dresser. Can't afford one. And I refuse to let Devon spend so much money on me. I mean damn, he already helps me pay the bills for this place.

Being seventeen and emancipated, I have my own apartment. Sometimes Devon stays over though he spends the majority of his nights at home and with his whores.

I grab a baggy black zip-up hoodie—don't really feel like wearing a shirt today, and it's autumn so it's not like I'll fry—with a bunch of random words in grey and white on it and put it on. I don't sleep wearing shirts either. Just my boxers. It's more comfortable that way. Then I put on loose blue jeans, though I don't leave my pants sagging. I don't like waddling when I walk. Really, they look like frick'n penguins. And as cute as those feathery animals are, I think I'll walk like a normal human. The hoodie covers the majority of me. The only part of me that's really showing is my head and fingers.

When I go to the bathroom to brush my teeth and hair and all that, I see my reflection. My blond hair is just about everywhere. It looks like some bird came in and made a nest on my head. I'm surprised no eggs or tiny chicks fall out when I start brushing it. Though my hair is short, it's soft and doesn't look like it's glued to my head. You can actually run your fingers through it. So it doesn't take long to brush thanks to the length. I feel bad for those guys in rock bands. The ones with the really long hair and head bang all day on a stage.

I brush my teeth and do mouth wash, then walk back in my room and put some socks on. I don't really feel like digging through the hamper just to find two white socks so I just put one dark blue one on and a white one. Who cares if they don't match? I'll be wearing shoes anyway.

I walk and put my shoes on at the same time as I go to grab my cell phone. A present Devon gave me for my sixteenth birthday. We share minutes and everything. But we have a lot of minutes. And he's really the only person I call anyway. I have other friends now, but they're more like school friends. We hang out sometimes outside of school, but not often.

When I grab it I see that I have six missed calls and one text message. Ignoring the calls I look at the message and of course it's Devon yelling at me.

Where the hell are you, you frick'n idiot?! We have a test in first hour.
I thought you wanted me to help you out with the material so you
don't flunk. Damn it, I even came early, I knew I should have picked you up.
I'm NEVER doing you any favors again!

NEVER!

Isn't he just a basket full of lovely?

Rolling my eyes I put the phone in my hoodie's pocket and walk out the door, locking it behind me and shoving the keys in my pocket.

I wish he did pick me up, I hate walking to school all the time.

I get to school around the time second hour starts. I wanted to miss the test so I delayed myself. I went to the store and bought me a bottle of Dr Pepper. When I get to school I go to the locker I'm currently sharing with Devon. Of course he's there dropping off his first hour—which is calculus—book. Or rather, nicely placing it on the shelf at the top of the locker.

He's about to close it but I run through the maze of students, pushing some out of my way, and shout out, “STOP!!”

He looks over at me, a bit startled yet still closes the door.

My mouth drops when I get to our locker and I glare at him. “Why'd you do that? Did you not hear me shout out “stop”?”

“I think everyone in the school heard you shout that.”

I roll my eyes and he moves aside so that I can get to our locker. I rarely take my bag home and just leave it in the locker. I only take it home when I have homework or a test in a class I don't have with Devon. Though the majority of our classes we have together. And whenever we have homework or a test in the same class he usually comes over to help me. And along with himself he brings the material we need. And what's the point in me bringing it if he has it too?

“Why are you late this time? Sleep in again?” he asks, instantly going into interrogation mode.

“Maybe,” I sing out and get my bag out from the locker and swing it over my arm. I feel him grab the back of my hoodie and tug a bit.

“Why do you wear such baggy clothes? I thought gays were supposed to wear tight jeans and bright colors,” he says with a smirk. He already knows I'm gay and he doesn't really seem to care either way. He says he doesn't care who I put it in or what I have put in me, it doesn't affect him or our friendship so it just doesn't matter.

I turn around and glare at him. “Don't make me have a BF all over your ass!” I shout, snapping my fingers in front of his face. Acting like the gay guys on TV do. Shit, I forgot to throw in the word “girlfriend” in there somewhere. Being TV gay can be so exhausting though! Tried it once and my God, you need to be carrying some type of energy drink with you at all times to be like those bouncy gays. Like Jack from Will and Grace. Holy crap.

He chuckles.“God forbid.”

“I know. They can be really deadly.”

He grins. “So, are we still having a horror movie fest tonight?”

“Of course! I mean, it's Friday the frick'n thirteenth! How can we just pass this day by and not have a horror movie fest?!”

“I was just checking, so calm down. You're such a drama queen sometimes.”

“And you can be a prissy little rich kid sometimes. Or as I like to say when we get into name calling fights, a prissy little bitch. Or biyatch!”

“Dude, that was so gay.”

“Yeah?”

“So very gay.”

I shrug. “I do my best.”

We get to our second hour, which is Shakespeare, and sit down at our joined table. We don't have desks in this class, just tables. One table has enough room for two students, though two tables are pushed together so four students sit next to each other. Devon's at the end of the left side of the table at the left side of the room—close to the door. I sit next to him and by some other guy who I can never remember the name to. One day, I'll remember though. . . one day. . .

“So, how are things with that Amanda chick?” I ask, looking over at him as he takes out his notebook. Shakespeare is more about taking notes than reading, sadly. I just copy off his and sleep in class. The teacher is awesome enough to let me do that.

“We broke up this morning. I was going to do it later today, but since I came here so early,” he glares at me, “I got bored fast and decided to just get it over with.”

“Aaah, so you're womanless!” I gasp the word in mock horror.

“Womanless? That's not even a word.”

“I like adding less and ness at the end of words. Don't you know me at all?”

He rolls his eyes. “Whatever. But yeah, for now I am “womanless”. Which makes me free for our movie night tonight. I'll go “hunting” tomorrow. If I have time.”

“You know our little feminist nazi friend is going to give you shit.”

“She does every time I dump a girl. But I have reason, this girl was annoying the hell out of me. She was way too clingy.”

“I noticed.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. Didn't mean to blow you off so many times. But damn, she was pretty demanding.”

I shrug it off, though I can't deny that I have been a bit lonely these past few weeks. “It's fine. Guys are supposed to hang out with their girlfriends, right? You didn't do anything wrong.”

“I blew you off.”

I shrug it off again as the teacher walks in and the bell rings. “So? I got over it fast.” He doesn't answer and the teacher starts some more notes. I lay my head down on the table and think about how I got over it. Ah yes, and so my addiction to alcohol began. . . Actually, I've been drinking for awhile now. But it started just a bit after I realized I'm gay.

And that I'm in love with my best friend.

I wasn't going to post this until WAY later, like when it was already done, but I'm too excited to wait! Ha ha!

Awww, Elliot! I love that name for a boy. This is my first boy love story for fictionpress! WOOT WOOT! It'll go back and forth between Elliot and Devon's childhood and the present as the story progresses. :)

Oh, and the summary is temporary. I know it sucks.

review?