Warnings: This story contains homosexual relationships(maybe), homosexuality, bisexuality, bad words, and awful accents and probably misuse of slang. You have been warned.
September. A time of living hell. As we all bound around trying to get any summer reading, homework, and activities done. The threat of school hanging over our heads as our days of freedom lower to less then five. It is at this time that we can only hope that our clothes are rad, our awful haircuts grown out enough to look awesome, and for another totally hot gay guy to come out of the closet.
OK, so far, two out of three of those things have happened for me. I can only pray that my clothes are rad enough. I mean, I basically LIVED at the Gap just to find the perfect back to school outfits! I had to clean out all my clothes from last year just to make room for my fall, winter, and spring collections. Boy, I am all set!
So either way, on with my tale.
My name is Alexander Giappi, and I am in my final year of high school. Did I mention? I am one hundred percent gay- not that anyone at my school knows this. Let's keep this our dirty little secret, OK? I mean, I am the class president, two years running, and the all star jock of our football team, this could be bad for my reputation. Being gay, I mean.
Ring... Ring. Ring! RING!
With a low groan, I rolled over in my bed, reaching out to swat at my alarm clock. It falls to the floor with a dull clank, and the cord pops out of the socket, faster then Rosie O'Donald on a rocket fired down hill. Ugh, that makes no sense. I moan and roll over in my bed, snuggling into the oh-so cozy comforter on my bed.
Mmm... Sleep. How blissful is thee? If I were to wrap my arms around you, I would never let go. Lost in your sand filled eyes, my own shut tight. Until morning love...
I hopped out of bed, ignoring the sudden cold breeze I get on the bare legs. Reminder to self; wear pants to bed. I zip over to my lovely walk in closet, and pull out outfit number uno. A hot black sleeveless turtle neck, with a blood red blazer, and some fuckin' nice black jeans. All designer of course. Only the best.
With clothes in hand, I marched into my own personal bathroom. Now, I'm sure you all want the nitty-gritty on me showering, but that's another tale, for another time. Close the jaws ladies. I'm gay, remember?
So, after coming out of the bathroom, dressed, and groomed, I marched out of my room and down the hallway. Now, something I forgot to mention earlier; my parents are loaded. I mean, my father IS the best football coach in America, John Giappi. Currently coaching my states home team. I got connections man.
I came downstairs, and walked across the grand entrance, and headed towards the kitchen. I could already smell Mama's french toast cooking. Topped with whipped cream, syrup, and icing sugar, a diabetics nightmare, but my one true love. Besides from sleep and football.
"Alex!" I entered the kitchen and flashed a smile at Mama.
"Yes Mama?" I asked, walking over to her by the stove, allowing her to kiss my cheek.
"Tell me boy, how many pieces do you want?" she asked, waving the spatula at me. My Mama has to be the best cook in the world. She's a bit plump, with creamy skin, and chocolate brown hair. Dad says he fell in love with her not for her body, but because she was the only woman he ever saw take down a professional football player. Personally, I think he fell in love with her because of her eyes. They are the deepest shade of blue I ever saw, and they sparkle all the time with mirth. Dad says I got her eyes.
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Taming Marcus(BoyXBoy)Teen Fiction
You know the story. There's the big bad jock who goes out with the hot cheerleader, and rules the school. He dumps nerds in toilets, and shoves geeks into lockers. Well, here is the true story of the big bad jock. You will not believe it as his life...