Took me ages, but better late than never, right?
To anybody else - this be a (the only) oneshot request I got...not that I'm going to give specifics 'cause that'd just ruin the point of this.
There was no denying it.
I hadn’t fallen head-over-heels in love with him, or in basic love, or lust…anything, really, but the moment I’d seen him, the first thing I’d thought was: wow. He was gorgeous- his skin was fair, maybe not unusually so, but I’d never seen anyone as fair as him, and his hair jet black, the contrast beautiful. He was physically fit, too…which doesn’t make him Alex Pettyfer, or someone, but he was by far the most gorgeous guy I’d ever seen. He wasn’t perfect though, not the way every other guy in non-real-life seems to be, but having my own share of zits and scars, I could hardly fault him for his, could I?
“Hey,” he said, shifting his feet, uncomfortable. I hadn’t been staring, but I had been having a little rush of excitement at finally having him come over, so I’d forgotten that he was still standing in the hallway outside my room, his bag by his side.
“Hey,” I replied, shifting to allow him access to my room.
I’d been waiting so long for his arrival! Ever since we’d found out that Annie was the lucky one to get to go to France, and that someone would be arriving in her place, I’d been ecstatic. More so when I learned it wouldn’t be a girl (I’d expected a girl for a girl, you know?) – it’d have been of no point to have Annie leave and have someone else just like her to return anyway.
Which, I admit, is the selfish perspective…of an openly gay teenager. So yes, I’ll also admit that I liked the idea of having a guy around for reasons beyond having a friend that’d actually understand me, instead of try to constantly get me out of the room, or putting on makeup, because, and I quote, “Guy-liner is soo cute!”. Not that I wasn’t glad my coming out had been accepted pretty well, but seriously?
Anyway.
He hadn’t moved after entering my room, standing fixated on this one spot on the ground and staring around the room.
I coughed.
“Hey, sorry,” he seemed to have forgotten I had been there, or something, which is the only explanation I could think of for being the recipient of the ‘deer-caught-in-the-headlights-look’. “I just, I mean, I was just looking at-” he stopped midway, blushing furiously.
It took me a moment to realize he’d been staring at the lone poster I hadn’t taken down.
Shit.
“Uh, yeah. That’s-”
“I know,” he replied quickly, not meeting my gaze. “Does that mean that you’re-”
“Gay?”
He nodded.
“Uh huh.”
When he didn’t reply, I found myself getting defensive. “You got a problem with that?”
He seemed stunned. “What? No, no, I mean-” his eyes widened further, “No! I don’t have a problem!”
I looked at him skeptically. “Really?”
“Yeah,” his reply was accompanied with a vigorous nod.
“’Cause, you know, if it bugs you I could get you Annie’s room or something-”
“No, that’s not it.” he cut me off. “I was just really surprised.”
“How come? You never meet anybody like me?”
He shook his head. “That’s not it either. I have, actually. But, never anybody who’s open about it, you know?”
“Yeah, well, nobody here cares much.”
Curiously, that got him looking straight at me. “Really?” He sounded incredulous.
“Yeah,” I shrugged, “some people think it’s weird, sure, and some other girls think it’s awesome, but nobody gives me any shit about stuff.”
“Oh.” He swallowed.
Eventually the silence became overbearing, with him simply standing there, thinking about it all like I’d made some groundbreaking revelation to him, and me, watching him. “So, want to unpack?”
He looked at me again – what was going on here? – and nodded curtly. “Yeah, ah, where do I put this stuff?”
“I’ve cleared a couple of shelves for you.” I opened the cupboard to show him.
“Thanks.”
*
Later that night, things took a rather curious turn with Marcus. After dinner, he’d retired up to the bedroom, saying he wanted to get some sleep, and I, still having homework to do, had lingered on downstairs and finished what I felt like doing.
I crept up into the room quietly, doing my best not to wake him up, but as soon as I’d pushed open the door, “Aiden?”
“Yeah?”
Silence. “Are you going to sleep now?” his voice came through after a while.
“Yeah. Why?”
“I wanted to talk to you.”
Something in his voice sounded…off. Not that I knew him all that well, but something was clearly up.
“What is it?”
“Lie down first.”
I wanted to question him, but didn’t. I complied wordlessly. We were on a bunk bed, I might mention at this point. He’d opted for the upper bunk (sits well with me, heights made me nervous). So I was lying below him in the darkness – he’d made a noise of what I assumed to be protest as I’d headed to switch on the lights – hearing his voice quite literally fall through to me.
“What’s up?”
“Are you really gay?”
I snorted. “You still have to ask after seeing the poster of a half-naked man in my room?”
He didn’t reply for a while, again. “Fair enough. And you’ve come out?”
I started to nod, then realized he wouldn’t be able to see it. “Yeah, I have.”
“When was that?”
“A couple of months ago, I think.”
Where was he going with this?
“And how was it?”
“Um.” I thought about it. “Okay, I guess. I mean, there’s nothing much to it, I told my family when they were watching TV, and then Mum just asked if I was sure, and Dad was like, ‘How long have you known?’ and I told them yeah, and for about six months, and they were okay with it. And Annie was all smug, saying that she’d known.”
“Were you scared?”
Why were we playing twenty questions? “Yeah, sort of. I mean, I didn’t expect them to react in a bad way, but then, I didn’t know how they’d react at all. So yeah, I was pretty nervous when I hit mute and just told them.”
“And then you told people at school?”
“Yeah. My friends, basically, and then word just somehow spread.”
It was pretty weird to be going on with all of this, yeah, but something inside me just felt the need to answer his questions. He sounded so…lost, and afraid, and wanting to help him in whichever way I could had me spewing out details I wouldn’t normally give out.
“And nobody bothers you about it?”
“Nope.”
“Do you have a boyfriend?”
“Nope.”
“How did you know then?”
“That I was gay?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t know, I just figured it out. The guys would always be going on about a girl or something and I’d wonder why, ‘cause they aren’t all that, and then it hit me, that maybe they weren’t my thing. And then I tried to think about a guy in that way, and found that I really, really liked the idea.” I smiled at the memory. It was strange, sue me, but when I’d finally figured it out, I’d been over the moon. I guess it’d been because all that time it had frustrated me to be different from my friends, and that the fear that I was the kind of person who wouldn’t like anybody and be alone forever had made me sick, so yeah, learning that I liked guys gave me an indescribable relief.
“Okay.”
His voice had softened as the conversation had progressed, and I could tell he was almost going to sleep. Before he could though, I took a chance. “Why are you asking me all of this?”
His laughter was even softer. “You couldn’t tell?”
I was about to open my mouth – I think I’d known it anyway – but he cut me off, confirming what I’d only just started to think. “I’m gay too.”
*
Things went pretty well after that. The revelation that he’d only just found out, but was afraid (with good reason) to tell anybody had me feeling a strange sort of protectiveness over him. Like it was my job to guide him through what it felt like, as though I was some sort of expert myself. It didn’t matter though; he looked up to me in a way we could both feel; and whenever the topic came up, I’d squeeze his hand to reassure him.
“Pretty pretty please, don’t you ever, ever feel-”
“That’s what you listen to?” I looked up from my book. He’d gone for a shower a while back, and clearly, had returned. He was staring at me in disbelief.
“There’s nothing wrong with Pink!”
“No, no, don’t get me wrong. You just never struck me as Pink…” he frowned, “person?”
“Yeah, well, she’s okay. Not the kind of artist I listen to normally though.”
“Who else’ve you got on your playlist, then?” He came to sit beside me.
“Let’s see, Lifehouse, One Republic, The Fray, Trading Yesterday, Hey Monday…”
“Cool. Big Time Rush, Daughtry…” he was reading from the enlarged window on the screen. “I approve!”
I looked at him. “Yeah?”
“Uh-huh. How about Maroon Five?”
I nodded enthusiastically. “Switchfoot?” I asked.
“Yeah. Simple Plan?”
“Yup. Good Charlotte?”
“Awesome! You’re officially awesome.” He laughed.
I stuck my tongue out at him. “Thanks.”
Not knowing what to say, I turned my attention back to the French homework.I’d ask him to help me out, what with him knowing it properly and stuff (he wasn’t French), but he had his own studying to do and I was a pain to tutor. Besides, the teacher would figure it out and I’d only get more work.
“Want any help with that?” his voice sounded surprisingly close to my ear. I whirled to face him, only to have a soft tuft of hair brush against my forehead. “Whoops, sorry.”
“Hey, yeah. No, thanks. I need to learn.”
“I could tutor you, you know.”
I shook my head. “It’d be no good, trust me.”
He shrugged, then wandered out, leaving the sweet scent of apple and raspberry wafting in the room.
*
He settled in amazingly well, not that he’d displayed any signs of social awkwardness. Soon he’d be told to shut up too, and questioned on what he’d drunk before coming to class.
“So, what are we meant to do here?” He asked.
We were in Math, sitting in a small group trying to tackle the question our teacher had smilingly thrown at us. She enjoyed doing this every so often- getting us to form groups then answer some ridiculously impossible question that wouldn’t even be tested. This time, we were staring at a poorly drawn tetrahedron.
“First, find the length of AB.” I informed him, looking on amusedly as his face crinkled further into confusion.
“How?”
“That’s what we’ve got to work out.”
“Huh. Yeah.” He took the worksheet towards him. “So, what we’ve got is that BC is nine centimeters, and CD is five. Pythagoras?”
I took the sheet from him. “Nope. There’s no right angle.”
“Can’t we just make one?”
“No!” Mrs. Darren had come over to see what we’d been doing, and, as just had to happen, came over when Marcus suggested doing something stupid.
“Okay, geez,” he grumbled, “give us a hint?”
“I’d look at the base.”
“Huh. So, what’s the base?”
Leonard took the paper and studied the page. “Erm. That is actually a good question.”
“Lemme see.”
He stared at it for a couple of minutes before shrugging and passing it over back to me.
“Okay, so,” I started, staring at the drawing. Remember how I said it was poorly drawn? There was no straight line. “If you look at it like this…” I smiled, “there you go! ABC is the base, and we’re using the cos rule here!”
Marcus looked at me disbelievingly.
“Let’s see.” He snatched the page back. “If ABC…yeah, okay. You’re right,” he told me grudgingly.
I smirked.
*
The point of me mentioning this?
After the lesson, as we headed over to Chemistry, he came by me.
“You know, that was pretty amazing back there in class.”
I gaped at him, but shut my mouth as it became apparent that he was enjoying the shock he’d delivered.
*
“Aachoo!” I sneezed again. Groaning, I reached over for the diminishing roll of tissue paper as I felt my nose start to run again.
Damn the ‘flu!
“Here, let me.” I wasn’t sure where he’d materialized from, but the next instant he was sitting by my side with the tissue in his hand.
“Thanks.” I acknowledged him, then blew my nose. I’d gotten past feeling self-conscious after the first two days of bed-rest.
“Can I get you anything?”
I shook my head, and as the effort proved to be too much, collapsed back onto the pillow.
“Hey, you okay?”
I wanted to retort with a ‘yeah, brilliant,’ except he seemed really worried that I’d faint again. Which was quite embarrassing, to be honest. The first time at the dinner table had only had my parents and him as an audience, and had resulted in him having to carry me up to the room, and was embarrassing enough to last a lifetime. After that, I’d pretty much been restricted to the bathroom and bed, with Marcus bringing me food every so often.
I groaned softly.
“Hey, just got to sleep.”
It had been my intention. “Yeah,” I croaked, “and thanks.”
Another something that seemed to surprise him. “What for?”
I opened one eye to look at him. “For being here, taking care of me when you could be having a life.”
“Life’s not going anywhere, and besides, I like taking care of you.”
I grunted.
“Yeah, it’s kinda cute seeing you all bundled up, and I like having you rely on me.”
My eyes flew wide open. I’d heard the smile in his voice – had he been making fun? His face told a different story.
“What?” I couldn’t breathe.
“Yeah. And the way your nose scrunches up before you sneeze, or even when you’re doing some tough question. And your eyes, the way they get all narrow and adorable, kinda like when you’re giving Alice the death-stare when she keeps bugging you.”
I didn’t know what to say. “What?” I asked again stupidly.
“Uh huh. I like the way you’re so bloody smart too, like that time in Math, and Physics, when you figured out why all our results were coming out wrong. And then when Leonard and Alice were bickering in class about the beetle and you looked up and went all, ‘that’s a wasp, you idiots!’”
I’d thought it to be impossible, but my heart rate picked up further. And I don’t think it was the blankets and fever that had me feeling so hot.
“You’re also pretty funny, you know.”
It was then that I found the strength to make him shut up. “Hey!”
“It’s true.” He looked down to me. “But don’t worry, I’m not going to do anything. I don’t know even know why I got into this but yeah…”
“I-I want to sleep.”
*
“Marcus!”
He looked up at me briefly, the averted his gaze quickly, as if that would somehow make me miss that he had looked up.
Things had been awkward since that day, to put it short, and he’d dutifully spent every moment, both waking and not, avoiding me. He’d quietly gone up to Mum, asked if he could have Annie’s room for the rest of his stay, and found himself a new group of friends to hang out with, and to pick and drop him off. I’d taken some time off too, not having tried to say anything as I got better, and then some to think about it.
A week later, I was playing Finding Marcus.
He started to shovel his books into his bag even faster.
Oh, hell no.
Running as fast as I could, I caught up to the black-haired boy who had, by then packed his bags and was starting to run away just as quickly. “Marcus!” I called again, reaching forward, stumbling.
You’re not getting away this time.
Almost there.
Got him….got him…got him!
He let out a small ‘oof’ as he fell, me on top of him.
“Marcus.” I said.
He’d shut his eyes and raised the arm I hadn’t sat on in a defensive stance, and refused to look at me.
“Mark.” I said softly.
“Go away.”
“No.”
He opened his eyes then, slowly, cautiously peeking up at me. “Get off?”
I thought about it for a moment. Chances were that he’d run off again, but there’s only so long he could avoid me for- now that I was determined not to let him. I helped him off the ground after coming up to my feet.
“Well?” I looked at him expectantly.
“Nothing. It was a mistake.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I don’t-don’t know what I was saying and it just…came out.”
“So you like me.”
I got my answer from the way his eyes turned to stare at his shoes.
I took a step closer towards him.
“It was a mistake,” he said again.
“It wasn’t.” I whispered, quickly moving to close the gap between us.
His face, his lips, tilted up just in time to meet mine.
...
I tried. Tell me if it was yucky- I don't know if one-shots really are my thing. Please, please, please comment! And I get points for actually writing a one-shot that ended up as just one part! xD
And if you care, I'll still take requests :)