I mean, it wasn't like I hated how it looked, particularly. It was a nice place. When my grandparents died they left me and my dad their inheritance. My dad gathered up the savings he had for a new house and threw in the money we just got, and moves us here. After a girl was killed when she was mugged while walking her dog, dad freaked and decided we needed to move. He was always protective of me. He always has been after mom died when I was little. So we packed up and moved to this fancy neighborhood. Our house wasn't as great as the others though; it was nice and all but it was two stories opposed to the three and four story houses surrounding us.
I didn't like the neighbors—that was the main problem, not the intimidating houses. See, we had the snottiest neighbors. I would be walking back from school and if someone happened to be outside they'd give me this look, singling me out. Their eyes always said "You don't belong here. Leave." I wanted to, trust me. I liked my old house, even if our old neighborhood had a high crime rate. I missed my old school and friends, even if most of them did drugs and shit like that. I didn't do it. I mean, I smoke and I got high a couple times, but I'm not addicted or anything and I don't sell the stuff. But that isn't the point.
The point is I hate my new neighborhood and all those who inhabit it. Oh, and don't get me started on the school. The kids were worse than the parents. I mean…they drove around in their fancy Mercedes and stuff even though the school is like, a short walk away. Didn't they know they were killing the earth with all that gas pollution? Stupid rich kids. They probably think they can just buy a new planet.
God.
I swear.
But the real story starts within the first of summer. I was outside taking care of the lawn. I know it sounds gay, but mom always loved gardening. She would take me outside and show me how to pull weeds and plant flowers and take care of them. I loved gardening with my mom. When she died, I took over the garden in her memory. When we moved I made a new one. I named each plant, just like mom used to do. "It gives them life," she would say when I asked. "Doesn't it make it seem more personal when you name them?" I named the prettiest red rose after my mom. It was my favorite one in the garden.
Anyway. It was hot out so I had stripped off my wet shirt. Wet, because I kept sweating and every now and then when dad brought some drinks out, I would pour my water bottle over my face and let it cool my warm skin off.
I was kneeling down, planting a new pack of seeds dad had brought home. He worked in an outside mall in a suit shop near a gardening store. He would bring things home for me every now and then, as if apologizing for working all day and coming home late. He had to in order to keep up with the mortgage. So he came home late last night with a pack of Laelia seeds. I knew of the flowers, but I never planted them. They were beautiful pink flowers with soft petals. I was quite happy when dad gave me them. He had laughed when he saw my expression brighten.
"You're such a girl," he had said affectionately. Now, at that moment, I was planting them in my ever-growing garden. I rubbed my pants, dirt smearing on my jeans as I finished up. Then it happened; my neighbor actually spoke to me.
It's not like all rich people are antisocial or anything.
Actually, they love gossip. But the neighbors never directly spoke to me or dad. So it was strange when Mrs. Gordon stepped into my driveway. She was the epitome of an older rich lady; she had corn-colored yellow hair she always had in a bun, but he quite pretty brown eyes, crinkled with age. She always wore suit dresses, usually pink or purple, and high heels.
She was nicer than most of the snobby neighbors.
But it was still shocking when she called me by my name.
"Ivan."
I lifted my head, pushing my messy black hair off my sweaty forehead. For a moment I wasn't sure if I should respond or not, which was really stupid to think. I mean, she said my name; of course she was talking to me. No one in my new school had the name Ivan. It was a 'poor kid's name' according to them.
"Yes, Mrs. Gordon?" I asked curtly.
"You go to the private school right down the road, right? Washington Academy?"
I nodded. "Yeah."
"My son goes there. Do you know him? Ryan Gordon?"
"Yeah," I said even though I didn't know who the hell that was. "Why?"
"Well…" she looked both anxious and amused. "You know that swimming exam in P.E.?"
"Yeah," I said. The fancy private school was tight-assed. Well, they had home work for each class over the summer. Not only that, within the first week of the new school year next year (in which I'll be a senior) they were going to have a swimming exam in P.E.
A swimming exam.
I mean really, how rich can you get? Only a private school would have such a stupid thing.
I had always been a good swimmer; not exceptionally good or anything, just—you know. Good. I was a lifeguard one summer. That was probably why I was always hunted by the swimming team at my old school. Compared to the other awkward, kids that went there I was the only one who had any experience in work and you know—swimming."Why?" I finally asked after a slight pause.
"Well, Ryan can't swim," she admitted after a slight pause. "We have a pool out back—it came with the house. Would you mind teaching him?"
I was thrown off. "Huh?"
"Well, we want him to pass the exam."
I stared at her. She looked so out of place, standing at the edge of the driveway awkwardly, hands clenched together and staring at me politely. I mean, it was out of place for me. She looked so formal and rich…and was asking me to do her a favor.
"Well," I finally said slowly as I stood, pushing my bangs out of my face and blinking my weary blue eyes at her. "I have summer homework too—"
"Yes, well, I'm willing to pay you."
I perked up in interest. I had no job, since private school took up so much time being all education-nazi and stuff, and my dad was struggling with money so I didn't get an allowance. I had no pocket money.
"How much?" I asked, not caring how rude I sounded. She didn't seem to mind either.
"Ten an hour."
"Ten dollars?" I asked, aghast.
"Yes. Ten dollars an hour."
Score. How easy! It was almost ridiculous. All I had to do was teach him how to swim? For ten dollars a fucking hour? It was easy money…ah, the ups of living in a rich neighborhood.
"Sure thing," I said with a grin. "I'll teach him."
He was sure to be my age, since the swimming exam was for the juniors-becoming-seniors. So it wasn't like I was dealing with a snotty little brat. I mean, I guess I would be, seeing how rich he had to be for his mom to be willing to pay someone ten dollars an hour to teach her kid how to swim.
And I repeat; score.
"Thank you," she said, relaxing slightly. "Could you start tomorrow morning around ten?"
I was pleased that she was respecting the whole sleeping-late-during-summer thing us teenagers did. I smiled at her, this time genuinely. For an old rich lady, she wasn't too bad.
"Sure."
"Thank you," she said again before walking back to her big mansion. I didn't look away until she shut the door. I turned back to the seeds I had planted, grabbing the empty seed packet and tossing it in the garbage can in the garage before I closed it. I walked inside, spotting my dad instantly. My dad was a hard worker; he never took sick days or vacation, but he felt bad about that so he requested a week off during the first week of summer. He wanted more so we could travel somewhere but I told him it was okay if he wanted to work.
Thus we ended up with a week.
Which was cool and all, but I kind of wished I hadn't talked him into only having a week vacation. But there he was, sitting on the couch and sipping a beer, watching TV on the big screen we managed to buy to make our nice house look nicer. Because you know, our furniture and stuff was old, so it didn't match the big fancy feeling of our new house.
"Hey dad, I got a summer job," I said as I shut the door.
"Did you plant the flowers?" he asked instead of responding to my announcement.
"Yeah," I said. "I planted them. But dad, I got a job…sort of."
"A job? Doing what?" he asked, putting his beer down and turning to me. He grinned playfully. "Modeling women's clothes?"
"Shut up dad," I said. "I'm teaching the Gordon's kid to swim."
"He's 17 and doesn't know how to swim?" dad snorted. "What a loser."
I fucking love my dad.
"Gee dad, you're real nice," I laughed, flopping next to him. "What are you watching?"
"CSI."
"Ew, dad," I shot him a look. "What kind of TV shows are you watching?"
"I like CSI. It has mystery, death, blood…my kinda show. Unlike you and your reality TV 'n' anime 'n' shit…man, sometimes having a gay son is exhausting," he heaved a sigh.
"Bisexual dad! Bisexual!" I shouted. "And I like girls more. I only dated a dude once! Lay off it, okay?" I sighed in exasperation. "I barely even consider myself bi."
"Sure, keep telling yourself that," he smirked.
"God dad, I swear…"
"What? The truth hurts, my dear beloved gay son."
"DAD!" I grit my teeth in annoyance. "For the love of God."
"Hey, let's order pizza and creep the pizza guy out," dad suddenly suggested. We used to do that a lot, mostly when I was a kid. My dad would pretend to have an 'imaginary friend' he would talk to. Sometimes I would call my dad 'mommy' and ask him when 'daddy was coming home'—you know…suggesting I had gay parents. My mom would die laughing when we told her about it.
Man. We hadn't done that shit in years.
I grinned. "Hell yeah."
The thing was, I don't even consider myself bi, though I say I am. I've had a lot of girlfriends and have always been pretty popular with them. I mean, I wouldn't call myself 'hot' or anything, but I wasn't ugly. I had a mop of messy black hair, courtesy of my dark-haired mother, and bright blue eyes. My skin was a light shade of tan, my mom being Hawaiian and all, and I had a lean, muscular body. "Not too muscled, but anything but lanky," my ex Ashley used to say. So, I dated a lot of girls. I only went out with a guy once when I was in ninth grade, back at my old place. He was a sophomore and in the same club as I was (Club Green—I wasn't a hippie or anything but it would look good on my resume and college application and such) and well…one thing after another happened and eventually we ended up kissing one day. It wasn't a big deal; when he grabbed me and kissed my mouth I didn't freak. I kind of kissed back as if it were normal.
I wasn't ashamed to let people know we were going out. He was a bit more shy about it, but didn't stop me when I initiated PDA. When we broke up the girls flocked back to me as if nothing happened. They didn't care.
My dad gave me hell for it. He wasn't mad or anything. He found it hilarious and always made gay jokes with me. I refused to think myself gay, though dad said he didn't believe in bisexuals. "They're mythical creatures who are rumored to like both genders, which is impossible. You either like a vagina or a penis. It's as simple as that," he'd say. But whatever. I just consider that a curiosity phase—but, if people found out I went out with a guy, they might think I was gay or something. So, to be safe, I labeled myself 'bisexual.'
Like I said, dad still gave me hell.
Anyway, we ordered pizza not long after our jesting back and forth. Dad grinned when the doorbell rang and opened the front door, chipper as ever.
"Why hello there good lad," he said with a fake British accent.
"Hello sir," the pizza guy said as he pulled the large pizza from the green cover. "One large cheese pizza?"
"That's us," I said, stepping beside my dad.
"That'll be $14.40," the small boy said, looking bored.
"Sure thing. Hey, Zeke, get me my wallet, will you?" dad asked me. I stifled laughter at the ridiculous name and ran off obediently. When I returned the pizza guy's eyes were wide as plates, mouth a bit slack as my dad babbled on in that horrid accent about how when he was young he and his buddies would watch rotting corpses on the battlefield. Then he went on about the British military and how he fought in all the wars.
"But sir…that was over 100 years ago…" the poor pizza guy said with his eyes still wide. I approached with the wallet, silent.
"Didn't you know? I'm a vampire," he winked. "We never age."
"Got the money, master," I said, pulling cash from the wallet. "How about a hefty tip for the young boy? I mean, he delivered us dinner," I licked my eyes and stared at him. He paled.
"I-I-I-I-It's on th-th-the…" he gulped and dropped the pizza box, fleeing for the car. Once he drove off dad picked the box up, brushing nonexistent dust off the top coolly.
"Well. Looks like we'll have to settle for the pizza."
I lost it. I burst out laughing, steadying myself on the wall. Dad grinned and shut the door, heading to the kitchen. I collected myself and followed, watching as dad pulled out paper plates. I pulled a pizza from the box and put it on a plate, flopping in the chair across from dad.
"So," he said as I bit into my pizza, "when do you start swim lessons?"
"Tomorrow at ten," I said.
"Nice," he said. "You still get to sleep in."
"I know right," I laughed. "Well, even if she's rich, she does have a teenage son. I guess she has to wait 'till he wants to wake up."
"True, raising a teenage son is hard," he sighed in woe. "More so when he's gay."
"Yeah—hey! Dad!" I barked, mouth full of pizza. I wiped crumbs from my chin and glowered as he laughed.
"Oh dear, still in denial," he sighed. "Shut up and eat."
"You shut up and eat," I snapped under my breath. And we did. We shut our mouths and ate, I mean. After we did we tossed our plates in the trash and zipped up our pizzas in bags, shoving them in the fridge. I showered before I went to bed, easily falling asleep…gardening did that to you, you know. So I had a good sleep. By the time I woke up the next morning to my shrieking alarm clock I was refreshed, a bit happy for the first lesson. I threw on my swimming trunks and pulled a shirt over my naked chest, brushing my hair for a mere second before I kicked my flip flops on and headed out. Dad was sleeping in so I left a note, just in case.
I headed over, cutting across the lawn and knocking on the front door. I only had to wait a moment before Mrs. Gordon swung the front door open. She dressed surprisingly casual, clad in sweatpants and a tank top. Her hair was in a ponytail—a neat one, though, and she still wore make up.
"Right on time," she said with a polite smile. "Come on in."
I stepped in, peering around curiously when the door shut behind me. I wasn't surprised; it was all sparkly and white and fancy. You know how in those movies where the character steps into some rich place and the ceiling is all high and the stairs all sparkling and curvy, and the chandelier dangled above all and all that? Yeah. That was the Gordon house.
It was sort of creepy.
"He's waiting out back," she said. "I'm going to work soon—as you can see, I'm in the process of getting dressed. Well, if you're hungry, Natalia can help you," she motioned toward a woman in the kitchen, putting a new trash bag in the trash can near the sink. "Thank you again. I'll pay you when I get home."
"Sure," I said as she rushed up the stairs. I shuffled my feet awkwardly before sighing and hurrying to the kitchen, opening the back door and stepping outside. She had a bright green lawn—which was fucking huge let me tell you—with a white fence, only adding to the cliché appearance of it all. The pool was big and nice, much nicer than any public pool, and a boy sat near the water, feet splashing in the water lazily.
He had blonde hair, not to my surprise, and bright grey eyes. His skin was light, like his mother's, and he wore bright blue swim trunks. He had the build of a football player and, though I had muscle too and wasn't one of those lanky skinny guys, but hell, that kid can easily pummel my face in.
I cleared my throat. "Hey."
I jumped at how fast his head snapped up. His bright grey eyes flickered to mine and he licked his lips, slowly standing to his feet and padding up to me.
"You're Ivan?" he asked wearily.
"Uh, yeah," I said. "I'm here to—"
"I know why you're here," Ryan sighed. "So, before we start, I want to make sure you're not some weirdo."
"Dude, I'm in it for your mom's money," I said honestly with a shrug. "I'm not here to check out your body, sicko."
His lips twitched, as if containing a smile. "Fine then. Teach me how to swim, oh mighty one."
"It's why I'm getting paid," I said. "First of all, how capable are you in the water?"
"Uhh…" he thought about it for a moment. "Well, if a fish who doesn't know how to swim is considered capable, then yeah, I'm pretty capable."
I laughed. "Okay then, I'll try to work with that."
I slipped into the pool, resurfacing and shaking my head, my hair slapping my face as drops of water flew about. I gripped the edge of the pool and flashed Ryan a grin.
"The best way to learn is to put yourself out there. Come on."
"Whatever," he said, sliding in. The pool was big, so considering the fact he was probably around 6'3 (I'm only 5'8) made it hard to wade further into the pool to go deep. The deepest the pool got was 7 feet, so thankfully it got deep enough so that Ryan would be exposed to that deepness. I was wading in the five foot part and he walked up next to me, hand lightly resting near mine on the edge.
"So?" he asked. I grimaced at how much taller he was than me. "What now?"
"Well, you know the basics right? How to kick," I gripped the edge with my other hand, floating on my stomach. I kicked a bit which earned a small laugh from him.
"Well duh," he copied me and kicked a bit as well. "I know how it works…I just have trouble doing it at once and not drowning."
"I see," I put my feet to the bottom of the pool again. "Watch me."
I pushed off the pool wall and dived forward slightly, easily gliding through the water. I never really liked swimming or anything. It wasn't anything special to me—it was just something I kind of knew how to do. It wasn't special to me.
Yet, somehow, swimming under water was somehow comforting. The cold darkness that enclosed me as I glided under as easily as I did was nice. It was quiet, and for a moment, it felt like I was all alone.
I never felt that way swimming before.
Weird.
I surfaced when I reached the end of the pool. I swam back to him, this time making my movement more obvious and prominent. I stopped next to him, pushing my wet hair from my face.
"Ta-da," I said. He smiled slightly.
"Okay, I see how you combine kicking and flailing."
"You make me sound so graceful."
"Like a butterfly."
I laughed. "That's the first time I've been compared to a butterfly. But, me being a bug isn't the point," I waved my wet hand slightly. "Let me see you try to swim. Without drowning."
"I'll try," he said, pushing off. I tried not to laugh as he flailed a little, but he looked absorbed in his determined swimming. He resembled a scared dog trying to swim to shore. He returned, walking when he reached the 6 foot end of the pool.
"Wow," I said.
"Is that a good wow or a bad wow?"
"What do you think?"
"Um…bad?" he guessed.
"Bad," I agreed with a loud sigh. "C'mere," I motioned with my hands. He came closer to me, smiling sheepishly. I grabbed his arm and pulled him forward slightly.
"Now, go on your stomach," I ordered. He managed to float on his stomach and I steadied him with my hand, resting lightly on his abdomen. "Now move your arms like I did."
He bit his lip and obeyed, movements slow to make sure he was doing it right. "Now your legs," I said. He obeyed. "No, no, that's too doggy-paddle-like," I said. "Try to push out like I did—like a butterfly."
I heard his laugh. "Alright, I'll try to be a butterfly," he said. It took a while but he managed to get the leg movement right. I tried to get him to get his arm and leg movement to sync together but he struggled with it. Before I knew it, the sky had faded to a dark blue.
"It seems our time today is up," I said. It might have been in my head but for a moment he looked disappointed. "I'll come tomorrow. We have all summer to turn you into a butterfly."
"Right," he smiled. "Thanks."
We left the pool and Ryan gave me a towel. I wrapped it around my waist and grabbed my shirt, pulling it over my head to warm my wet chest. I followed Ryan inside and saw his mom was home, obviously having just returned.
"Perfect timing," she said happily. "Here's your money," she turned to me, handing me a big pile of cash. I had been there for at least 8 hours, so I don't know why I was so surprised when I saw the $80 in my hands.
"Thanks," I said after a moment. "See you tomorrow."
"Yeah, see you," Ryan said. I waved at him and left via front door. I tossed my wet towel and shirt in the laundry basket, rushing upstairs. I changed into warm pajamas and instantly headed to the living room, where dad sat flipping through channels.
"Sorry," I said. "I was gone all day."
"It's fine," he said with a smile. "We still spent most of the week together. Tomorrow is the last day before I go back to work."
"I'm sorry," I said again, feeling guilty.
"No, its fine," he laughed. "We have Spring break next year. Or better yet, the summer before you go to college. We'll go somewhere nice for the summer."
"Yeah," I smiled. "Good night dad."
"G'night son," he said.
-------
I went there everyday. I was getting a lot of cash and felt quite happy about it, and was able to go out more and see movies and stuff. I grew closer with Ryan since we hung out more, joking around and learning about each other.
Like for example, apparently his dad worked oversea a lot and was rarely home. His mom was nice but wasn't around a lot, and Ryan got good grades at school because he wanted to go to a college out of state because he couldn't stand his family, as much as he loved them. I also learned that Ryan used to play football but stopped when he turned 14 because he grew bored with it. I also learned he wants to be a biologist, which I found interesting.
It was weird, because I would never imagine myself to become friends with someone like Ryan. I mean, it was weird, but somehow it happened.
"Do we have any classes together?" Ryan asked one day after swimming lessons. Summer was almost over, a couple weeks to go, and we had finished. Ryan seemed tired so we sat down and before I knew it we were simply talking.
"I don't know. I don't really have any friends at school," I admitted.
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"The girls talk about you," Ryan said. "A lot. They really like you and want to talk to you, but they think you're intimidating."
"Really?" I quirked my eyebrow. "Intimidating?"
"Well, you're the only poor guy at the school—not to mention 'hot', as they say," Ryan said. "They say the fact you're not rich makes your rugged look all the hotter."
"Are you a girl, because you seem to have the same mind track as one," I said. "Talking about how the girls say this, the girls say that…"
"I'm not a girl. I just have a lot of them as friends."
"Friends," I smirked. "Of course."
"I'm serious."
"Are you the gay friend everyone goes to to talk about their feelings?"
He laughed. "I don't think so."
"Oh really?" I asked, unknowingly adding a tease into my tone. "Are you sure about that?"
"I'm sure," Ryan said with shining eyes, a smile on his face. I don't know why but I always thought about the expression he had at that moment; the way he smiled, the way his eyes shined like two newly-risen moons—it was a pretty expression not fit for such a manly face.
A week later, everything that Ryan and I had built crumbled due to my damn mistake.
Usually, we spent the days the same. Swim, talk, bond, all that boyish shit. But that was somehow different. After we swam and Ryan basically did it all on his own, I began to applaud him with a laugh as he swam around the pool smugly. Eventually he grew tired and climbed next to me on the edge of the pool, pushing his wet hair out of his face.
"Looks like our lessons are over," I said.
"And it only took all summer," Ryan said with a small laugh.
"I work slowly to perfection," I said with a huff. "Gee, learn to respect your teacher."
"So…we should hang out," he suddenly said. "You know, since your work is done."
I stared at him. "Really?"
"Yeah…" he coughed awkwardly. "I mean, if you want to. You're an awesome friend. I don't want to just stop talking to you just because you taught me how to swim."
"Sure," I said. "It sounds good."
"Really? Awesome!" he beamed. "I really like you and I don't want to screw it up like I always do. I tend to say stupid things sometimes."
"Yeah, like 'I say stupid things'?" I quipped. He nudged my arm with a laugh.
"Oh shut up man," he said.
"Aw, you love me," I said.
"Yeah, I love yah," he sighed. I don't know why I did what I did. It wasn't a 'moment'—you know, the moment when you know you're supposed to kiss her…or in this case, him. It wasn't anything like that. Besides, his 'I love you' was all friendship and he was far from serious. So why the fuck did I think it was okay to kiss him?
Yeah.
I kissed him.
It was strange. I leaned forward from where we sat at the edge of the pool with our feet dipped in the water, and pressed my mouth to his. His lips were surprisingly soft; I expected them to be rough or chapped, but they were soft and tasted really good. I wasn't sure what I was thinking. But I realized what I had done only after I heard the noise he made; it was disgust.
I reeled back, slapping my hand over my mouth.
"Sorry," I choked out, scrambling to my feet. That was hard considering we were right next to the wet pool. "I'm so, so sorry. Oh my god, I'm sorry," I wheezed out in horror, grabbing my shirt, which lay on the grass lawn not far from the pool.
Ryan simply sat there, staring at the spot where I once was. I was fleeing for the door when he turned his head to me, those bright eyes on me, and breathed out my name. It was so—so—sensual. It startled me enough that I hesitated, wide eyes turning to him. Then I saw his expression and decided I was hearing things and, tears burning my eyes, I fled for home.
I stumbled into the living room, for the first time in my life wishing my dad was home. Then I wanted my mom. I was such a wreck that I curled on the couch and wept, sobbing "Mommy" through my tears. I was mortified at my break down, yet I couldn't stop. I wanted her warmth, her soft smile and reassuring words. I wanted to feel her gentle fingers on my hair and my face, soothing me with pretty words and gentle eyes.
I wanted my mom.
I wanted to forget about what I just did.
Most of all, I wanted to forget about how much I liked kissing Ryan.
I guess I fell asleep since it was dark when I woke up. I had a blanket tossed over me so I knew dad had come home. I heard noises in the kitchen and watched the spot where dad would appear when he left. After a couple minutes my dad stepped out holding a bottle of water. He saw me and his face softened.
"You okay?" he asked, walking to me. I grimaced.
"No."
"Yeah, I could tell, you look like shit."
"Thanks dad," I sighed. He sat down when I bent my legs to give him room and put the water on the coffee table calmly. He turned to me, his hand resting comfortingly on my foot.
"Do you want to…talk about it?" he asked slowly. I didn't. But somehow, seeing him try so hard and the fact that I never saw him drove me to nod slowly.
"I…well, you were right."
"About what?"
"Me being gay."
"HA! TOLD YOU!"
"Dad, not now," I groaned. He calmed down, coughing sheepishly. I flashed him a reassuring smile. "I kissed Ryan."
"….who?"
"Ryan. Ryan Gordon."
Realization fell over his face. "Oh. Oh."
"Yeah," I mumbled. "I know. It was a stupid, stupid mistake. I mean…I was caught up in the moment." What moment? "It was stupid. I screwed up the first friendship I've had in this God forsaken place, all because of my stupid dirty lust toward him. Him, Ryan fucking Gordon, a rich kid. As if he'd like someone like me."
Dad was quiet. Once I was done he squeezed my knee.
"Don't talk like that. Did he get mad at you? Did he call the police or anything for sexual harassment?"
"Well. No…"
"Then all isn't lost, is it?"
He stood and left, pausing near the hall to say, "Get some sleep." I nodded as he left and managed to fall asleep again, rolling every time my mind unconsciously thought of Ryan. When I woke up dad was gone at work and I felt like crap. I managed to take a shower without hitting myself, or something else, and got into a pair of dirty jeans and a clean T-Shirt. I dragged myself back to the living room and flopped on the couch, not even turning the TV on. I just sat there in silence, reading some magazine that was lying around every now and then.
I wasn't at all surprised when my doorbell rang.
Either Ryan did call the cops and they were finally here, or he came over himself to yell at me or beat me up. He could, seeing how strong he is and all. Either way I was lucid as I opened the door and saw Ryan standing there.
"Listen," I said gently, guilt laced in my tone, "Ryan, I—"
He suddenly stepped forward, arms snapping out to grab my arms. I closed my eyes, preparing for a punch, but instead lips smashed against mine. They tasted and felt familiar—I instantly knew who it was.
"Ryan," I breathed against his mouth in shock. "What…"
He bit my lip and I grimaced, getting the message. His tongue licked at the blood and then shoved past my lips and tangled with my own tongue. I moaned when he pushed me back, pressing me against the wall, still kissing me. His knee lifted to press my crotch—and it worked. I felt my crotch tingle and without thinking I grinded against his knee, moaning again when his hands grasped my hair tightly.
"What—" I tried again breathlessly, struggling to keep my heavy eyes open.
"Kiss me again," he murmured against my mouth. "Kiss me like you did yesterday."
"What…" I sighed against his demanding mouth. I struggled, managing to pull my head back with a delighted gasp. "I thought you hated me."
"Why the hell would I hate you?" he asked as he lowered his knee. I frowned at the loss of rough warmth and he replaced it with his own hips. I felt something hard poking my thigh and I shivered when I realized what it was.
Kissing me aroused him.
I gave Ryan a hard on.
"Because I kissed yoooou," I tried to keep a steady voice but when he grinded his hips against mine my 'you' turned to a strange purr. My hands, which had been pressed against the back wall, moved to grasp at his neck, my eyes fluttering in ecstasy.
"I know," he said as he licked and bit my neck, grinning whenever I moaned softly. "You're really sensitive."
"I thought you'd hate me because I was gay for you."
"Then, you should hate me too, 'cause I'm gay for you."
"You're gay?" I asked in surprise. He stopped kissing my neck and looked at me wearily.
"No. You're the first guy I've wanted this bad."
"How sweet," I rolled my eyes.
"I mean it."
"But that doesn't make sense."
"I didn't really realize it until after you kissed me. It was pathetic really. Just that kiss—only that kiss….it made me hard."
I had the decency to blush. "What!?"
"Even a girl could never get it up that fast, much less with a simple kiss. No tongue either."
"Ryan…"
"My point is," he said slowly, "I thought about it all night. I could barely sleep. I finally realized it though. It wasn't that your body attracted me…it's, well, average. And you're cute and all but there a lot of cute guys that don't make my heart race like you do. So I realized it; it was you, Ivan. I'm in love with you. You, Ivan, not—not the fact you're a guy. I'm not gay. I'm just in love with you."
I lost it. Well, wouldn't you if you heard all that? I gripped his hair and kissed him, tongue and all, and he groaned in delight at my ministrations. I rubbed my hips against his, giving his hard member the attention it craved, and wrapped my legs around his waist for better leverage.
I pulled back and stared at him. He stared back.
"Have you ever—um…" he said slowly.
"What? No," I said, offended. "I've never had sex with a guy. Besides, wouldn't that make me easy if we did it right away?"
"But…" he wiggled uncomfortably.
"I know you're—bothered…" I eyed his crotch. I bit my lip and pushed him back a bit, landing on my feet. I shot him a small smile. "Close your eyes."
He did. I nervously fell to my knees, hands reaching up to unbutton his pants. I tugged his underwear down as well and leaned forward, mouth closing over his perk arousal. His body spasmed, a gasp leaving him. He leaned forward, steadying himself by placing both hands on the wall. I didn't know why this was all moving so fast. I guess, since summer was ending, I wanted to desperately cling to the last time we spent together.
By sucking him off? I know it was bad. But I wanted to have one good memory with him, in case he changed his mind or this all turned out to be a dream.
I sucked hard, tongue swirling over the tip and around the base, taking as much in as possible. It was hard, considering he was so—endowed. He moaned and gasped in pleasure, his hips shuddering. Eventually he couldn't take it and thrust his hips forward, forcing his cock deeper in my throat.
I held his hips and licked until he gave one big shudder and came into my mouth.
"Oh God, I'm sorry," he said as he pulled out, looking down at me with a blush. "I didn't mean to…" he trailed off when I swallowed then licked my lips. His eyes glazed over. "Did you just…swallow?"
"Yeah, obviously," I said, standing up. He grabbed me and spun me around, eyes blazing, and pushed me against the floor softly. It was a bit uncomfortable but he looked so determined I let him do what he wanted.
"Your turn," he said, pulling my pants down. He suddenly pressed his dick against mine and I shivered, moaning pleadingly as I reached forward and grasped his neck in delight. He rubbed himself against my hips, moving up and down, our cocks slick against each other. I panted in sync with each of his thrusts, hips and arousals clashing together. I shivered and moaned and gasped out his name, digging my fingernails into his back.
"Oh," I let out a noise as I threw my head back, giving one last shudder as I came onto his stomach. He leaned forward and kissed up my neck, breath hot against my neck, and licked the shell of my ear.
"Is this real?" I muttered drearily.
"Of course it is," he said, kissing my bottom lip.
"But…you're rich and successful. Why me?"
"I told you," he said as he kissed me on the mouth firmly. "I fell for you, Ivan. Nothing else. Just you."
I smiled, holding him close. For some reason, as weird as it sounds (not to mention sort of creepy) I thought of my mom. I thought of how she would have handled this; she would have known what to do to prevent any of this ridiculous misunderstanding from happening in the first place. I love my mom—that'll never change. I'm sure she's happy seeing that I'm happy.
I just hoped dad wouldn't crack gay jokes in front of Ryan.
Oh God.
"Ivan," Ryan snapped me from my trance. "I love you."
I licked my lips, surprised. "I—I love you too," I said tenderly, "Ryan."
He smiled at me. "This was a successful summer. First, I learned how to swim. Now, I have a boyfriend."
"Boyfriend?" I asked softly.
"What?" he looked surprised. "I'm sorry, if I'm wrong—"
"No, I was just surprised," I said. "Boyfriend sounds nice."
I realized we were still lying on top of each other naked.
"….maybe we should get some clothes on."
"….probably."
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A: YAY. For once, I wrote a story full of sheer fluff! XD No sad ending haha. Sorry if it seems rushed. I'm getting my wisdom teeth out tomorrow and I won't be on for a couple days and, for those of you who keep up with my story Lullaby, will probably appreciate this one shot to hold you over. XD
Sorry. REVIEW PLEASE. :D