Teenagers
Back To Frank's
“Mikey. You need to get up. Mikey, you can’t sleep all day!”
What? Where the fuck am I?
Confused I sit up and notice that I’ve fallen to the floor sometime during the night. I’ve drooled, and my back hurts like hell.
Frank is standing in front of me, ginning widely and bright eyed as ever.
“Fuck off.” I murmur, my head a painful mess.
He just smiles at me, annoyingly happy for this time of day.
The room is so bright, but the sun is still pretty low in the sky. It can’t be past eight AM.
Looks like the storm has really calmed down. Good. I don’t think I could stay another night here. Too many memories. Too much pain, really. And it’s too far to walk to Franks place unless the weathers nice.
I can’t stay mad at him for too long and soon a half smile has glued itself to my face.
“Ready to go to school?” he wonders.
What? School? Dammit.
He laughs at the obvious disappointment I’m portraying, but hauls me off the ground into a hug.
“Hey,” He whispers. “I’ll be there.”
I rest my head on his shoulder for a couple of seconds, pulling in his scent and gathering motivation to go on with my day.
He pulls me closer, then lets go and sends me a compassionate smile. He takes a firm grip of my hand and we’re out the door, leaving everything behind. It feels good: moving on. Leaving the rough weather behind and letting the sun take control for once.
Outside the sun is shining, like the big explosion in the light blue sky that it is. Birds are singing, and I feel like I’ve reached the happy ending of a cheesy rom-com.
Frank and I walk shamelessly hand in hand, down the main street and towards the school.
******************
The school day was fine. I’m guessing the janitor was too embarrassed over what he saw yesterday to tell anybody about it. There was absolutely no talk about it at all and I didn’t see the janitor once. Frank didn’t ether. I’m guessing he’s trying his best to avoid us. That’s fine by me. It made being at school that much easier.
The way home was hot. I felt like I was being beaten up by the sun and the air was humid and created a “can’t breathe” sensation. I was all sweaty, and it didn’t help that we had to walk pretty damn far, whilst starving.
We mostly talked about food and what we were in the mood for. We talked about how the janitor never showed, and laughed empty stomached laughs. Frank put his arm around my shoulder when we’d come about half way. It made me feel safe and home again. It made me feel like he was proud of me and was showing me off to the world.
The second we got to Franks place I decided to take a cold shower. He showed me how to use it, and as the freezing liquid ran down my naked body, half of me was hoping that he’d join me. He didn’t.
I’m currently sitting at the kitchen table talking to Frank as he cooks dinner.
It’s easy to communicate in this apartment because the whole thing is pretty much one big room, except for the window-less bathroom and closet-sized bedroom. But seriously, there’s only room for the king-sized bed and a small strip of floor on the right side of the bed, where you enter. From there you have to crawl onto the other side.
Dinner smells great. Frank is making pasta. Yum. Incidentally, that is one of my favorite dishes. He doesn’t know, so I guess he just likes it as well.
As we eat Frank talks about his school day. Mouth full and no intention of swallowing before talking.
“Mark called me a faggot in gym.” he laughs out loud, slamming his fist to the table.
He takes it so much better than I do. Honestly, comments like this still hurt but I try not to focus on that so I just brush it off.
“Oh my God!” I force a laugh. “Why!?”
I’m learning not to take these things personally. It takes time, but I’m trying. It’s not like they know, not that that would change anything.
“Waddaya mean why? It’s Mark. I’ve always been a little faggot in his eyes. We were in the locker-room and he seriously just slapped my ass and said: hey little faggot. And then left.” He forces some more pasta into his already overfilled mouth.
“huh.” I wonder what makes Mark and Jonny and the others feel like they have to mock us. Are they insecure? It sure seems like it. Someone who’s truly confident does not need to beat others down to feel that way. It just kind of contradicts the fact that you’re strong as a person and I don’t get it. But then again there are lots of things that I don’t get. I guess that’s what makes me human.
****************
After dinner we walk over to the couch. It’s 08.53 and we have time for a movie before bed.
“So, which one?” Frank holds up two films, looking super enthusiastic. Both seem to be about zombies and there’s just like gore everywhere. There are blood and guts all over the covers, and I don’t really care which one we watch. I’m fine with gore, so I just point to the one that he seems most obsessed with. I just don’t know how I’ll concentrate on the movie when there is a perfect-in-every-way specimen on the couch next to me, perfectly willing to make out with me.
My foot taps uncontrollably as I wait for Frank to start the movie and fill the empty seat next to me on the couch.
The couch sinks a bit as he collapses onto it. He stares at the screen as the title flashes across the screen with dramatic screams in the background. I can stop looking at his glistening hazel eyes. He looks so excited, like a child on Christmas morning. He doesn’t seem to notice that I’m staring, so I take this chance to soak it all in.
He likes me. Possibly even as much as I like him. This beautiful, outspoken, strong guy likes me.
His dark brown hair keeps falling in front of his eyes. Screams sound from the television, and he winces, his full lips pulling into a nervous smirk.
He looks over at me. “What?” he wonders.
“Nothing.” I lean in and place my head on his shoulder and try to focus on the movie, but manage to sneak some glances at him every now and then. I then take his arm and pull up his sleeve, carefully caressing the pale-white scar that is a constant reminder of his challenging past.
He flinches slightly, but then smiles softly at me, a hint of sadness in his eyes.
Our gazes lock, seconds passing. A calm vibe of complete understanding between us as he leans in and kisses me.
He quickly switches the TV off, lips never parting from mine. He grabs my waist and I lift myself up, placing one leg on either side of his lap. He then forces me down, grinding himself against my crotch. Fuck, it feels good.
Looks like I’m not the only one who’s hard tonight.
He aggressively puts both hands behind my head and forces himself on me as I bring my hands down to his zipper. I then clumsily get off him and he follows so quickly that I don’t even get a full breath before his tongue is shoved into my mouth again.
Everything is just grinding, touching and heaving breaths as we stumble towards the bedroom. He turns off the lights as we close the door and fall onto the bed.
What? Where the fuck am I?
Confused I sit up and notice that I’ve fallen to the floor sometime during the night. I’ve drooled, and my back hurts like hell.
Frank is standing in front of me, ginning widely and bright eyed as ever.
“Fuck off.” I murmur, my head a painful mess.
He just smiles at me, annoyingly happy for this time of day.
The room is so bright, but the sun is still pretty low in the sky. It can’t be past eight AM.
Looks like the storm has really calmed down. Good. I don’t think I could stay another night here. Too many memories. Too much pain, really. And it’s too far to walk to Franks place unless the weathers nice.
I can’t stay mad at him for too long and soon a half smile has glued itself to my face.
“Ready to go to school?” he wonders.
What? School? Dammit.
He laughs at the obvious disappointment I’m portraying, but hauls me off the ground into a hug.
“Hey,” He whispers. “I’ll be there.”
I rest my head on his shoulder for a couple of seconds, pulling in his scent and gathering motivation to go on with my day.
He pulls me closer, then lets go and sends me a compassionate smile. He takes a firm grip of my hand and we’re out the door, leaving everything behind. It feels good: moving on. Leaving the rough weather behind and letting the sun take control for once.
Outside the sun is shining, like the big explosion in the light blue sky that it is. Birds are singing, and I feel like I’ve reached the happy ending of a cheesy rom-com.
Frank and I walk shamelessly hand in hand, down the main street and towards the school.
******************
The school day was fine. I’m guessing the janitor was too embarrassed over what he saw yesterday to tell anybody about it. There was absolutely no talk about it at all and I didn’t see the janitor once. Frank didn’t ether. I’m guessing he’s trying his best to avoid us. That’s fine by me. It made being at school that much easier.
The way home was hot. I felt like I was being beaten up by the sun and the air was humid and created a “can’t breathe” sensation. I was all sweaty, and it didn’t help that we had to walk pretty damn far, whilst starving.
We mostly talked about food and what we were in the mood for. We talked about how the janitor never showed, and laughed empty stomached laughs. Frank put his arm around my shoulder when we’d come about half way. It made me feel safe and home again. It made me feel like he was proud of me and was showing me off to the world.
The second we got to Franks place I decided to take a cold shower. He showed me how to use it, and as the freezing liquid ran down my naked body, half of me was hoping that he’d join me. He didn’t.
I’m currently sitting at the kitchen table talking to Frank as he cooks dinner.
It’s easy to communicate in this apartment because the whole thing is pretty much one big room, except for the window-less bathroom and closet-sized bedroom. But seriously, there’s only room for the king-sized bed and a small strip of floor on the right side of the bed, where you enter. From there you have to crawl onto the other side.
Dinner smells great. Frank is making pasta. Yum. Incidentally, that is one of my favorite dishes. He doesn’t know, so I guess he just likes it as well.
As we eat Frank talks about his school day. Mouth full and no intention of swallowing before talking.
“Mark called me a faggot in gym.” he laughs out loud, slamming his fist to the table.
He takes it so much better than I do. Honestly, comments like this still hurt but I try not to focus on that so I just brush it off.
“Oh my God!” I force a laugh. “Why!?”
I’m learning not to take these things personally. It takes time, but I’m trying. It’s not like they know, not that that would change anything.
“Waddaya mean why? It’s Mark. I’ve always been a little faggot in his eyes. We were in the locker-room and he seriously just slapped my ass and said: hey little faggot. And then left.” He forces some more pasta into his already overfilled mouth.
“huh.” I wonder what makes Mark and Jonny and the others feel like they have to mock us. Are they insecure? It sure seems like it. Someone who’s truly confident does not need to beat others down to feel that way. It just kind of contradicts the fact that you’re strong as a person and I don’t get it. But then again there are lots of things that I don’t get. I guess that’s what makes me human.
****************
After dinner we walk over to the couch. It’s 08.53 and we have time for a movie before bed.
“So, which one?” Frank holds up two films, looking super enthusiastic. Both seem to be about zombies and there’s just like gore everywhere. There are blood and guts all over the covers, and I don’t really care which one we watch. I’m fine with gore, so I just point to the one that he seems most obsessed with. I just don’t know how I’ll concentrate on the movie when there is a perfect-in-every-way specimen on the couch next to me, perfectly willing to make out with me.
My foot taps uncontrollably as I wait for Frank to start the movie and fill the empty seat next to me on the couch.
The couch sinks a bit as he collapses onto it. He stares at the screen as the title flashes across the screen with dramatic screams in the background. I can stop looking at his glistening hazel eyes. He looks so excited, like a child on Christmas morning. He doesn’t seem to notice that I’m staring, so I take this chance to soak it all in.
He likes me. Possibly even as much as I like him. This beautiful, outspoken, strong guy likes me.
His dark brown hair keeps falling in front of his eyes. Screams sound from the television, and he winces, his full lips pulling into a nervous smirk.
He looks over at me. “What?” he wonders.
“Nothing.” I lean in and place my head on his shoulder and try to focus on the movie, but manage to sneak some glances at him every now and then. I then take his arm and pull up his sleeve, carefully caressing the pale-white scar that is a constant reminder of his challenging past.
He flinches slightly, but then smiles softly at me, a hint of sadness in his eyes.
Our gazes lock, seconds passing. A calm vibe of complete understanding between us as he leans in and kisses me.
He quickly switches the TV off, lips never parting from mine. He grabs my waist and I lift myself up, placing one leg on either side of his lap. He then forces me down, grinding himself against my crotch. Fuck, it feels good.
Looks like I’m not the only one who’s hard tonight.
He aggressively puts both hands behind my head and forces himself on me as I bring my hands down to his zipper. I then clumsily get off him and he follows so quickly that I don’t even get a full breath before his tongue is shoved into my mouth again.
Everything is just grinding, touching and heaving breaths as we stumble towards the bedroom. He turns off the lights as we close the door and fall onto the bed.
11/2/13