Homophobe

I could do parties. Stand around, make awkward, useless conversation until everyone was drunk enough to find anything I said absolutely hilarious, and then wait until Chase was either passed out, throwing up or on the verge of tears. Go home, try to get somewhat of a night’s sleep and then endure his endless hangover bitching that came like clockworks every morning after.
 
I had a harder time trying find the television remote.
 
Parties were easy. I figured I’d probably leave my cardigan at home despite the undeniable manly essence it possessed, this time, I’d wear a t-shirt. Look cool enough in front of his soccer friends.
 
Parties were my bitch. Or well, at least I just hoped that I didn’t become Chase’s by the end of the night. It was basically my main goal, but I couldn’t really say whether or not I’d achieve it.
 
“Ash, are you sure you don’t want to stay in tonight?” My mom materialized beside me on the couch, holding a plate of cookies, an obvious ploy to stop me from going out. She nudged them a little more in my direction, allowing the aroma to surround me.
 
I sighed, crossing my arms over my chest. I would not be bought with such cheap tricks. Mostly because I knew that either way, Chase would probably barge in and drag me out despite anything I said.
 
 “Yeah, mom, I’m good for tonight.”
 
“A Walk to Remember is on, though,” she pressed, brushing a strand of hair that had fallen out of the loose bun she’d tied it up in.
 
I didn’t understand how she thought that was convincing in the slightest.
 
“Sunday’s all yours, I promise,” I said while reaching for a cookie with my free hand, frowning when she immediately thrust it in the opposite direction.
 
“Then these will be waiting on Sunday.”
 
Just as I parted my lips to burst out in undignified begging (because while in most other culinary arts my mom was a complete failure, her cookies were basically orgasmic, and pride had nothing to do with it) the sound of the doorbell resonated through the air.
 
I didn’t even bother to get up as the door was pulled open immediately after the chime without skipping a beat, the usual entrance Chase made when he came to my house. Moments later he appeared before us, sporting his best cheesy grin and the most polite aura he could muster.
 
“Hi Ms. Matthews!” he beamed in my mom’s direction, in usual suck-up fashion. If I had a dollar for every time he’d called her a MILF, well, my fine dining wouldn’t be at McDonalds.
 
“Hi Chase,” she returned before casting her eyes on me. “Don’t be home too late, I can promise him to you, right Chase?”
 
The boy straightened his back and gave her a salute, a broad grin devouring his face. “Of course, I’ll protect him with my life!” he assured her with a hand slapped over his heart.
 
I rolled my eyes, grabbing the backpack from the floor and swinging it across my shoulder. “Yeah, yeah, I can take of myself, thanks guys. Have fun with your movie.”
 
“I will!” she insisted, and I chuckled under my breath.
 
As soon as we stepped out the door and into the afternoon breeze, surpassing my mom’s hearing range, I anticipated for what was to come. I could count it down without fail. Three, two-

“Man, your mom is hot!”
 
I turned my head and gagged a little, giving him a light shove while I was at it. “If you want me to come to this thing, I’d advise sucking up a little better.”
 
A laugh trickled down his tongue and when he grinned at me, I felt a little loss for breath. Immediately after the realization hit, and with it my ears dusting red as always, I averted my gaze onto the curb.
 
Mason had wished me the best when I’d told him how I was spending my Friday night. I asked if he was doing anything spectacular, but apparently he was just working on his artwork, and I couldn’t deny the desire to spend that time in with him. We’d hung out again already, and I was finding myself revelling in the comfortable ease that always came with his presence.

Even though I'd been lying through my teeth lately whenever Chase asked where I'd been.
 
“Give it a chance, you hardly ever hang out with actually normal people. Just Layla and her weird friends. And,” he gave me a pointed look, “Mason.”
 
His jaw clenched, clear distaste written across his face. I resisted the urge to laugh.
 
“Like your friends are any more normal, I hear the craziest shit about them. Wasn't it, Taylor? She fucked some guy for a coke?”
 
“Hey! She was thirsty! And at least she isn’t a faggot like him,” he countered.
 
I bristled slightly, rolling my eyes at his poor argument. “Is that the best you got?”
 
Maybe it was because of how open Mason was, but the recent times found me even a little less than my usual complacent towards Chase’s obvious hatred. It just seemed nice to be yourself, like Mason always was.
 
It was hard to think that at a party, just like the one we were going to, they’d kissed. It made my mind wander, though, to what would happen with drunken Chase when Mason was replaced with myself. My thoughts flashed to that night before, with his breath hovering over my lips, and I could feel my cheeks heat up violently. What if he didn’t stop, what if he didn’t throw up…
 
“Ash!” Chase boomed in my ear, waving an impatient hand over my face. “We’re going!”
 
“Oh.” I shook my head as if to rid myself of those troublesome thoughts. “Alright, yeah, let’s go.”
 
 Surprisingly, Chase had neither passed out, thrown up, or started a bullshit fight. He was obviously intoxicated, having both the buzzed myself and Matt, the guy who drove us, guide his stumbling drunk ass into the car. The party itself wasn’t too half bad, and I found myself surrounded by Matt and the girl he obviously liked, Sierra, who seemed to be the most sober people at the party. It hit the standards of high school party with drunken sex, waterfalls of puke and the one hammered chick balling her eyes out while bad decisions polluted every corner.
 
It was alright, to say the least, still wasn’t my type of thing but it was fun. One girl had practically been clinging on my arm the entire time, and I could tell she was a little disappointed when I had to leave and she’d gotten a grand total of nothing, but I couldn’t just tell her that she didn’t really fit my plumbing requirements. I heard Chase scold me for not doing anything, but I was too drunk to care about that.
 
I revelled a little in the haze that clouded my vision brought on by the couple of beers River and Chase kept forcing down my throat. Chase, of course, held an air akin to fame with everyone constantly gravitated towards him. This was his thing, of course.
 
Matt had driven us home late enough, it was one o clock the last time I checked, and Chase was being surprisingly quiet the entire way inside my house. When we’d both stepped into my room, he’d made a bee-line for the bed, and sat at the edge, eyes following my every move. I threw him a shirt, and we’d both been sleeping in our boxers since forever anyways. When he pulled off his top, I quickly spun in the other direction and got changed myself.
 
I couldn’t think like that.
 
It wasn’t going to happen again. This time was going to be normal. Sleep, hangover, breakfast, done. Normal party behaviour. With determination sparked in my eyes, I stole the spot next to him, a yawn spilling from my lips.
 
“Do you ever still talk to Mason?” he abruptly asked, calculating gaze absorbing my every breath.
 
I paused, startled by the suddenness of his question, guilt thick in my throat and anxiety bubbling in my gut. I had to admit that lying to him was one of the hardest things, even though technically I’d been doing it for years, there were moments like that when his eyes gleamed so earnest and honest that it all felt like a crashing effort.
 
His eyes narrowed at me when the silence between us grew heavy without my words.
 
“Well, I mean, yeah sometimes,” I admitted, scratching the back of my neck with some more incoherent mumbling following afterward. My eyes found solace in the carpet.
 
“Why?”
 
I swallowed, hard, and dared to give him a glance. I couldn’t read his expression in the slightest, and it scared me a little, because that’s what I was best at. I could always tell what he was thinking; I’d learned every shift of his expressions over the years. I could tell when he was annoyed, every fake smile he forced called to me like a beacon, every time his eyes would light up when he was excited. I knew it all. But that- it was something new entirely.
 
“Well, I mean, I don’t know, I guess he’s a cool guy.”
 
My mouth parched, a dry spell devouring every inch of my tongue as his eyes continued to bore into me, feeling as if they were burning into his flesh.
 
“He’s gay.”
 
I could tell he was gouging my reaction, watching for even the slightest shift, just as I always did to him. I’d always blamed my little infatuation with him for my undeniable consciousness of his every move, but suddenly I wondered to myself how exactly aware he was of me?
 
“Um, yeah,” I mumbled, the blush returning with a vengeance. I heard him shift closer to me, and my eyes immediately shut tight, my stomach flipping constantly. Goosebumps prickled up my arms as a shiver dribbled down my spine.
 
I couldn’t do this. Abort mission. Abort mission. Or this time, I’d throw up.
 
“You don’t even wonder what he’s thinking about you? The things he wants to do with you?” his breath was low, barely breaking above a whisper, and just scarcely brushing against the skin of my cheek. I could feel him next to me, his warmth radiating in the dark room.
 
“He d-doesn’t want to do anything, obviously. Just because he’s gay doesn’t mean… doesn’t mean anything, not every guy wants, you know, every guy. He doesn’t.” I could feel the words evaporate on my tongue, my heartbeat thrashing against my rib cage. This could not have been good for my health.
 
“Are you sure about that?” there was something like a smirk in his tone.
 
I nodded.
 
“I don’t think so. I think he wants to devour you. Every inch of you.”
 
His husky voice rang through my ears as I inwardly screamed at my heart for beating so fast.
 
“You’re so naive, you’re basically begging for someone to take advantage of you. But can you handle that?”
 
I’d been avoiding his intense stare the entire time, and so when his hand reached up and his fingertips brushed against my chin, inducing another round of goose bumps to the occasion, I was almost startled when he forced my eyes toward him.
 
It was happening again. The alcohol thick on his breath, half-lidded coffee dark eyes hovering over my mouth, face flushed. It was all happening again. Except this time, he didn’t seem to be throwing up at all. And as his lips drifted closer to mine, there was something absolutely surreal about it.
 
I’d dreamt it hundreds of times, over and over that indecent face polluted my thoughts, but those were just mine. Safe inside my head, free to revel in them as long as I wanted. No risk, no danger, only my fantasies.
 
But that was it. His lips skimmed over mine, light, barely there, but it had happened. Chase Evans had kissed me.
 
And he did it again. And again. And again.
 
His palm found my cheek as he brought me closer, his silhouette somehow toppling over mine. Our kisses were sloppy; his tongue slipping passed my lips, ravaging my mouth. My heart continued to accelerate at break-neck speeds and I earnestly met his lust with a feral passion of my own, sinking into the mattress while keeping a grip around his neck.
 
It seemed as if there wasn’t enough oxygen in the universe as he pulled away, lips shining with my saliva, and took a deep breath. There was an indisputable far-away look to his eyes, but in that moment, there were no coherent thoughts present in my mind. The only thing I knew was the unruly need to get him closer.
 
His lips layered over mine once again, before travelling down my neck, his tongue licking the bottom of my chin and causing me to catch my breath. I could hear our laboured breathing far off in the distance, but it all seemed so hazy and dream-like, almost as if we were completely two different people.
 
His tongue rolled over my neck, lips puckering up against the flesh of my throat. I could feel my dick grow as his fingers reached up my shirt, unexpectedly warm as they grazed my skin.
 
Just as I could feel his name on the tip of my tongue, ready to roll off, he stopped. As he hovered in the air above me, I could make out every contour of his face, moonlight filtering in through the blinds and bathing the side of his skin.
 
Once more, his lips came down in a chaste kiss, before he smirked at me. “You really should watch out for Mason. He’ll take advantage of you.”
 
And before I knew what was happening, he was curled up beside me, breathing absolutely calm and steady. Not skipping a single beat. Utterly and totally asleep.
 
Swallowing, I stared up at the ceiling, attempting to calm the ferocious reeling of my mind and register even the smallest bit of what had happened.
 
I couldn’t even think about the morning.