White Teeth and Blue-Blooded Boys

The good thing about having a fuck buddy("friends with benefits" was the term Theo insisted on) was that instead of jacking off to the thought of Henry I could be lying to myself and pretending that I was fucking Henry while I was actually fucking Theo. I felt awful most of the time (read: all of the time) but I think Theo knew. How could he not? He knew Henry was the boy I was enamored with and I always thought that Theo was fucking me in replacement of someone he loved, too.

We just never talked about it.

He just kissed me like I wished Henry would and tugged on my hair so tendrly it was like he was making sure not to hurt me. He would moan into my ear when I rocked into him and run his hands down my back, never scratching because that wasn't Theo's thing even if sometimes I wished it was. He was always so giving and receiving but never taking. He'd just lay there and let me elicit all the things deep inside his bones; would look at me sometimes and I swore I saw some type of sadness flash between blinks. Sometimes I wished he'd do something different, tug back, fight, hurt me to prove to myself that I wasn't just using him.

So when I was peeling off his shirt, not pretending I needed the lights on to see where his knees hit the bed, I bit too hard on his bottom lip and heard his curse on my lips.

"That hurt," he murmured as he scrambled backwards on the bed so his head hit the pillows.

"Sorry," but I didn't really mean it.

I wanted to feel something other than guilt and some deep rooted pain when I was awake by Theo's side and he'd still be asleep. I wanted to feel something other than missing someone.
I wanted to know what it felt like to fuck Theo and not some shadow of a makeshift Henry.
I kissed him deeper than I think I ever had and don't stop - just kept kissing him until my lips felt frozen, until I could only manage to drag my nose up and down the length of his neck.

"Ansel," it wasn't a question, just a statement. Breathless, sure, but I knew what he meant.

"Do you want this, too?" He made that questioning sound so I kissed a purpling bruise and tried to articulate what I wanted to say.

"I mean, I want to know if you like doing this with me? That you want to fuck me."

I was afraid I sounded too needy, to insecure, but I always felt this fuzzy protectiveness when I was around Theo. That anything I said to Theo would be kept in the moment; that Theo wouldn't judge anything I said to him.

It took a second for Theo to respond(maybe he was wondering because he never really knew or maybe he was too shocked that I even asked), but eventually he grabbed the sides of my face and kissed me once, hard.

"Of course I do, Ansel. I like being with you, you feel like something permanent. Like home."

Like I've said, I hate to be a cliche, but his words made my heart clench and for a moment I really, truly wondered what it'd be like to love Theo. If I'd love him like Henry if I gave it time; if the thought of holding his hand would make me sweat in places not meant to be sweaty; if after a few months he'd become home, too.

But for the moment I just undressed us both and didn't stop kissing him.

That was the only time I couldn't find it in me to imagine Henry and the only time I came screaming Theo's name.



The next day at school I didn't see Henry until the break between fourth and fifth period. I hadn't been looking for him, either, because I wasn't in the mood to see Sophia leeching all over him. It made my eyes hurt like when I didn't drink my morning cup of coffee(Henry used to always tease me and say that I was too addicted and I'd just laugh it off and resist the urge to say it was him I was addicted to). Instead I kept to myself or entertained pointless conversations with teammates I passed in the hallways. When I had third period Chemistry and Theo did, too, I took a deep breath and walked with him from his locker to the classroom. I could tell he was surprised but he just smiled, told me about this book he read that he thought might be his new favorite and a bad joke he saw on the internet.

When Henry and I met thankfully Sophia wasn't with him(I could lie and say I felt bad for thinking that). He pulled me into him by looping an arm around my shoulders and I could smell the cologne that was my favorite.

"Where have you been?" He asked as he walked us outside, where we usually sat for fifth period lunch.

"Classes, like usual. What's for lunch?" I asked instead of asking about Sophia.

"Probably something shitty."

He laughed and I felt his ribs move against my side and wondered if that was what being in love was like. We stopped to survey which bench was empty, he let his arm drop from around my shoulders, and after a few seconds I spotted a vacant bench near a massive tree and pointed it out. Henry nodded his head and I followed behind him as we made our way over there. I realized how pathetic it was to miss the way he almost held me.

I watched as Henry pulled out his usual ham sandwich his mom made him("it's like we're in third grade again") and I tore the tinfoil off of my own peanut butter one("like you're the one to talk"). We didn't talk while we ate, never did, instead concentrating on the grinding of our teeth and the thoughts inside our heads. I always wanted to know what occupied Henry's mind. But then again, if all that ran through his mind was Sophia than I really didn't want to know. It only took us a few minutes - maybe 20 - until we were both crumpling our wrappers into a ball.

"I bet I can make it in," Henry said as he raised his hand, referring to the garbage can that sat a few feet away.

I just laughed doubtingly and watched as he shot it into the can. Of course it didn't make it. Sometimes I hated the fact that I loved someone who was such a stereotypical white boy; was a caricature of almost every boy in our school. When he just groaned and smiled back at me I decided that he was so much more than just that.

I never thought Sophia would realize that; never thought she would "get" Henry as much as I did.



"So are we hanging out this weekend or what?" Henry asked after the last bell rang.

We converged at Henry's locker, which was closest to the exit and temporary freedom. He was busy not putting books in his bag, looking down instead of at me as he talked.

"What do you want to do?"

He shrugged on his bag, letting it hang on one shoulder as we walked towards the parking lot.

"Whatever. Can I come over?"

Henry usually didn't drive to school because I always picked him up; always drove him home, so him coming over instead of going home wasn't that un-ordinary. Anyway, it wasn't like his his mom ever asked where he was.

"Sure," I said even though I didn't have to cause he was already sitting inside, tossing his bag into the back.

I wished that someday his smell would be soaked into that seat, that while we drove I could hold my hand palm-up on the console and he would hold his palm-down. I wished that the silence was between lovers, not friends.