My 30 Day Challenge

Day 6: What about it do you most enjoy?

Back to Kellin POV

I jumped the next morning as I saw my door open. I hadn’t slept. My mind just kept running. It was only 5 am or something ridiculous; what the hell was someone doing coming into my room? Then I remembered Vic’s little notes and saw that it was, in fact, him, and I relaxed.

“Morning,” he said, smiling gently. “What are you doing awake?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” I whispered. He came over to me and looked at me expectantly.

“Well, come on, move over. It’s cold,” he said. Bewildered, I moved over as much as I could in the single bed. He took this as permission to get under the covers and snuggle into me. “Much better.”

The memories of the party the night before had been running through my thoughts all night. How we kissed – a lot. How he’d held me. It was sappy, but it was really special. And he was really drunk, so I didn’t think he’d remember, but maybe he had.

“I think… I think we should, um, talk, I guess, about, uh last night,” I stammered. He winced.

“Sure, if you can be quieter. I’m kind of hung over,” he explained. “What did you want to talk about?”

I hadn’t expected to have to start this – I’d been counting on him doing so, and I was slightly dumbfounded. “Well. Um. Do you… you know… remember what, um, happened?” I asked, remembering to lower my voice.

“Do you mean do I remember that we kissed?” I nodded. “Does this answer your question?” he leaned forward and gently pressed his lips to mine, before taking them away just as quickly as they’d got there.

“Yeah,” I whispered breathily.

“Good, because I’m not sure about you, but I want to do it again…” he trailed off, but didn’t kiss me again. I pouted a little, I think, because he chuckled. “I want to, but I don’t really know if I should.”

“Why not? I want you to, you want to.” I was definitely frowning by this point. I knew it! This was all just a joke to him. He didn’t really want to. If he wanted to he would. I could feel the tears coming on, so I turned away.

“You should go,” I whispered. I didn’t want him here. I couldn’t believe it. I’d actually thought he might like me, but apparently I was wrong.

“What? Why? Are you okay?” he started panicking, I think. “I’m not going to because I think we should talk about what we are now before I do.” There was some shuffling and his body heat went away. At least he got the message. I closed my eyes, trying to, I suppose, cry myself to sleep. I’d be finding a razor as soon as possible later. Then I felt his lips on mine again, and my eyes jerked open.

“I just thought we should establish what exactly is going on between us before we go any further. I don’t want you to get hurt,” he said softly. I stared into his chocolate eyes a while, before taking a deep breath and responding with a short ‘yes.’

He let out a breath, possibly of relief. “Okay. Thank God. Anyway, obviously last night was great. And even though I only just figured out that I am gay slash bi, I think I want to be able to do it whenever, and with you. Kiss you, I mean. What do you think?”

It was kind of risky for him to want to come out this quickly. For one, he wasn’t one hundred per cent positive that he was in fact gay. He didn’t know how people would react. It might turn out that he wasn’t in fact gay, and that he was going through a phase, like they always say in the movies. I didn’t believe that sexuality was a phase, but who knew?

“I… wouldn’t it be kind of weird, considering we live in the same house? What would your parents say? What if they’re not okay with it?” I asked.

“Trust me, they’ll be fine with it. A couple of months ago, mom actually asked me if I was, while I had a girlfriend, I might add, and she made it very clear that she didn’t mind if I was. As for living in the same house… I guess it would be like moving in together as a couple, only earlier on in the relationship, if that makes sense. We don’t have to tell anyone immediately, if you don’t want.”

“And what happens if we break up?” This was the biggest issue I had. I lived with them, and I couldn’t really go anywhere if things ended for the worse.

“Well, I’m hoping that won’t happen, to be honest.” That made me blush a little. “I think that if we do go through with… a relationship, I guess, then we should make a deal that if it does end, then we make sure it’s on good terms and act maturely around each other. I promise you, though, I will do my absolute best not to mess up at all.”

I thought about it, long and hard. He’d pitched this potential relationship well. The little voice in my head murmured things like ‘he doesn’t really like you’ and ‘you don’t deserve a boyfriend, the screw-up you are,’ but I tried to push them aside and think logically, because I really wanted to say yes.

“Let’s try it,” I said. He grinned, and leaned in to kiss me once more. It was harder this time, like he was trying to mark his territory on me with his lips. I kissed him back; or at least, I tried – I hadn’t ever kissed anyone before, and so everything I did was a guess.

He pulled away a little while later. “While I was thoroughly enjoying that, we should also talk about the other reason I came in here. Today’s question.”

I groaned a little, and rolled my eyes. “Do we really have to do this now?”

“Well if we keep kissing then I’m not going to be able to stop, and I feel like it’s my responsibility to make sure you do it, because I’m fairly sure that if I left you to do it you’d forget to,” he teased. I hoped. “Come on, let’s just get it over with.”

“Fine.”

“What about it do you enjoy the most?”

That was a question I didn’t want to answer. I’d thought about it before, and my answer kind of embarrassed me. Having depression embarrassed me. I hated it so, so much.

“The only way I can explain it is kind of far-fetched, so just bear with me, okay?” He nodded. “Well, you know that I was… bullied… a lot, back ho – in Oregon. They would say things to me, and they’d get stuck on rotation in my head. I wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about them, like a broken record that was just playing the same thing over and over and over. Eventually, I realised that after I cut, they left my head. It was like I was taking the record out of the player. And it was therapeutic; I feel better after every time I do it. Minimally, in the grand scheme of things, but it helps then and there. And that’s why I do it.”

He was quiet for a while. “What sort of things did they say?” he asked.

“Well, it was just after I came out. So the usual. Freak. Faggot. Weirdo. Queer. Loser,” I listed a few. “Sometimes… I would, um, cut those words.”

He looked horrified. “That’s so awful! How could anyone call you those things? You’re amazing,” he murmured in my ear, pulling me in close.

“Do you… do you want to see?” I asked, building up my courage.

“If it’s okay with you,” he replied. I sat up and pulled off my shirt. He didn’t show any emotion, but pursed his lips and put my shirt back on me.

“You shouldn’t have to be reminded of that. Plus, it’s cold this early.”

So we lay there in bed. Talking about nothing. Kissing a little. Or a lot. After a couple of hours, we got up and spent the day watching movies with Mike and helping Vivian and Victor around the house. We decided not to tell anyone for the moment. Not deliberately a secret, but keep our relationship between the two of us. Nobody needed to know, and it wasn’t their business anyway.

When I went to bed late that night, Vic came up a few minutes later and kissed me goodnight. And I slept again.