Date: Thu, 24 Jan 2002 18:25:46 EST
From: Gking0301@aol.com
Subject: Flawless Ch1 (highschool)

Some of you probably read my story "Perfection", so I'm back with another
single episode story called "Flawless".  Really no coincidence in the names
intended, but I just turn out stories like that.  I don't know, some things
just happen.  This story is very dark and not cheerful at all.  As always,
most of my stories come from personal experience, but names are always
changed.

Write e-mail comments, I'm glad to hear what you think, especially about
this one.  I can basically guarentee I'll respond to you, but sometimes
school gets me down and I don't have time.  But I'll make a genuine effort,
I'll promise you that.

And thank you to all of you who did write me, it was very much appreciated
and it's great to hear from you.  This will have grammar and spelling
mistakes.  Don't expect perfection (again, no joke) and it definitely won't
be flawless.

gking0301@aol.com

Story is fiction based more or less on actual events.  All names have been
changed to protect the identity of the characters.  If you aren't eighteen,
you're not technically supposed to be here, but can I do anything about
that?

Flawless (1)

I was watching him out of the corner of my eye.  He stood tall, about six
foot or a little over.  He had strikingly deep blue eyes and a beautiful
face, one you could get lost looking at, such as I later realized I had
done so often.  He had long brown hair which had a habit of falling in
front of his eyes giving him his seductively handsome look.  He was quiet,
and when he spoke, his voice was low and comforting.  His laugh was
beautiful and his teeth lined up perfectly, always white and bared through
his earthshattering smile.  He moved across the library carrying that old
backpack, his letter jacket slung over one shoulder casuall, as if an
afterthought.

James usually wore slightly faded jeans and stylishly worn and ripped
shirts.  I turned my head bit by bit, tracking his progress through the
crowded library.  He smiled and waved to his friends, and I turned my
attention back to my book.

"This seat taken?"

I looked up and smiled disarmingly.  "My feet were enjoying it until you
showed up.  But I defer to the wildly popular high school mascot.  Have a
seat James."

He gave me one of his beautiful smiles and ignored the sarcasm dripping
from my words.  "The library's pretty full today, huh?"

Way to state the obvious.  I nodded without looking up, buried in my
lengthy and incredibly boring 'History of Ancient Africa' book.  I watched
as his eyes surveyed me for a few minutes.

"Studying?"

I nodded again and turned a page.  Not because I was finished with the last
one, or that I wanted to read the next one.  Just a gesture to let him know
that I was busy and did not desire conversation.  I felt a pressure in my
wrists as he put a finger on the spine of my book and abruptly pressed it
to the table.  "That book can't be more interesting than talking to me, can
it?  I guess I'm not the most eloquent or verbally knowledgeable guy, but
geez, reading a history book over talking to me really hurts, man."

You have to give it to him, this guy was straightforward.  "Well, I do have
a test tommorow that I've got to study for, and I'm surprised you're still
around school.  I figured you'd be practicing for the game against Central
tommorow."

He shrugged and pulled an identical red book out of his bag.  "I'm not that
much of a dumbshit Matt, I take History of Africa too, and we don't have a
test tommorow.  If you don't want to talk to me, let me know."

I continued to read, flipping another page.

"You're just like you were when we went to Brookridge together," he said
angrily, a touch of frustration permeating his steady voice.  "You never
talked to me, you dropped me once we got to Junior High.  At least
acknowledge that I'm of the same species."

"Oh is that how it was, I dropped you?  I believe we were pretty good
friends until you found football.  I think, if you delve a little deeper
into your primitive brain, you'll find that it was you that dropped me."
He just had to go and bring back memories of gradeschool.

I picked up my papers and notebooks and shoved them into my bag.  "Anyway,
I have to go home and get dinner ready.  Thanks for your pity party dude,
call me if you break your leg or spine, or anything else cheerful happens."
I pushed my chair in, leaving him half stunned at the table.

"Hey Matt, you've got to let go man."

I ignored him and left the library.

*****

"Matthew, wait up."  I turned and saw him running toward me.  He was
dressed in his usual stonewashed jeans and tight fitting name brand tee
shirt.  His hair was gelled and slicked back and he looked stunning as
usual.  I continued to unlock my car and ignore him.

"Matt, can I catch a ride?"

I shrugged and unlocked the passenger seat.  "You can ride in the back and
duck your head down when you see your friends," I offered nicely.

He smiled and took the front seat.  "Hey, no reason to feel bad buddy, this
is one sweet ride."

"It's not the car I'm talking about," I said, smiling wryly.  "It's you
being seen with me.  It'll probably hurt your reputation a lot, so if you
want to put a bag over your head or something."

I could tell that my snide comments were hitting home.  "Jesus christ Matt,
you don't need to talk to me like that.  I'm sorry we didn't stay better
friends through it all, but can you really blame me for all that?  You ran
off with pot smoking Leon for four years and I barely saw you without
bloodshot eyes."

I laughed desipte myself as I recalled my years with Leon.  "Yeah, if you
knew half the things that went on between us, you'd shit your pants," I
said truthfully.  He probably would.

"So anyway, I wanted to get reacquainted with you, just see how you were
doing," he said biting his fingernails and looking at me out of the corner
of his eye.  I pulled out of the drive and headed down the street toward
our neighborhood.

We sat in silence, the gray houses and offices flying by.  He looked at me
a few times, a measured puzzled look on his handsome face, but no words. I
turned into his driveway and cut the engine, plunging us into a very
awkward silence.  "So?"

His hand was poised on the latch to get out, but he just sat motionless.
"Hey," he said finally, almost a whisper.  "You want to come in and, you
know, have a drink?"

I shrugged and got out of the car and we walked up the sidewalk to his door
that had been so familiar to me.  I pushed open the screendoor and he
fumbled with his keys.  "The lock still sticks, remember that?"

I nodded and smiled.  "And you'd just keep cursing at it," I added as he
opened the door and flicked on a light switch.  I shut the door behind me
and looked around.  Yeah, the same white couch and white chairs, the same
wooden table and dining seats, the same kitchen with the mounted wooden
carvings his mother had meticulously arranged.

A perfect American home complete with pictures, each a year apart, of
James.  The pictures, in chronologic order, lined out his trip from boyish
charm which slowly and surely melted into a genuine hearthrob in the final
frame.  Every strand of his hair always seemed perfectly in place and his
blue eyes and perfectly aligned teeth never failed to attract attention.
And I had to suffer through seeing his picture on the front page of the
newspaper every time we won a game.  His beautiful, smiling face.

"Want a beer?"

I laughed and nodded as he tossed me a cold brew.  "As mischevious as
always," I said.  "Remember when we used to steal glasses of your dad's
Bourbon?"

He smiled and took a measured sip of from his can.  "And you got drunk,
fell asleep, and started muttering about purple dinosaurs?  I remember
vividly.  I also remember when you sleepwalked right into the bathroom door
and broke your toe.  That was all the same night, wasn't it?"

I tightened my hands around the can.  "Yeah, that was five years ago," I
said softly.  "It's been a long time."

"Hey, shut up man, we're starting to sound like lovers or something," he
joked, slapping me so hard I almost lost a grip on my drink.  "Let bygones
be bygones or however that shit goes.  Academics have never been my strong
point."

"I know," I joked, hitting him back.  "They haven't been mine either.
Remember, for most of my youth I've either been hanging out with
knucklebrain like you or 'smoking my brains out' with Leon."

James looked at the ground and his eyes shifted a little.  "I'm sorry I
came down so hard on you for that.  It's just that every time I saw you
guys together, skipping school, smoking, whatever.  I just felt jealous,
like we belonged together, not you and that asshole.  I missed us from when
we were kids."

I blushed a little, but the dim light made it hard for him to see and I
judged that he didn't notice.  "Thanks James, it means a lot to me that you
still see me as someone worthwhile.  It's quite satisfying to find that one
of the most popular guys in school finds you okay."  I wasn't sarcastic, I
was genuine.

"Thanks, but I'm not a god," he said, taking a gulp of beer and setting the
empty can down on the kitchen counter.  If he only knew.

"So, you want to go catch a movie or something tommorow night after I
finish practice?  I think we've got some catching up to do," he said
casually, playing with the condensation rings on the smooth surface of the
table.  "And I want to get to know you better, like we did before."

"Sure, sounds great," I said, hoping it didn't come out as fast and excited
as it sounded.  "It would be neat," I added lamely, as an afterthought.

"Great, now how about some help on English?" he asked, giving me his best
puppy dog eyes.

"How can I resist a face like that?"  We began the traditional trek up to
his room.  I stopped halfawy up the stairs and ran my hands across the
wall.  "Dude, the scrape is still here."

He bent over next to me and gave a half snort laugh.  "We never bothered to
paint over it.  It's just a reminder of us as kids I guess.  Every time my
mom goes up the stairs, she asks if I talk to you and when you're going to
come over again.  I guess she'll have a surprise when she comes back from
work tonight."

He pushed the door open to his room and I was greeted by an exreme heat
difference.  I entered the warmth and comfort of his room and looked
around.  The same bookcases and bed as when I had last slept over at his
house.  The mobile of planes he had assembled and painted himself in third
grade lazily stirred in the corner.  He shut the door, and I sat down on
his bed.  It creaked just as it always had.

An orange Ibook sat open on the corner of his desk.  Clutters of papers,
pencils, team pictures and clothes lay strewn about the room, and a few
pairs of discarded boxers hung in odd positions.  I breathed in and
couldn't help but smell his scent in the air.  It was sharp and unique,
masculine and comforting.  His cologne mixed with the smell and I began to
close my eyes, wishing I could spend eternity in this place.

I moved over to his desk, well aware that his eyes were fixed on me,
unmoving.  "Not much has changed," I said as I shuffled through his papers
and odds and ends.  I pushed some of the mess aside and put the book down.
"Okay, so what do you need help on?"

"Hamlet?"

I nodded and opened to the page.  "Do you want the Matthew the know it all
version or the sum it up cliff notes version?"

He shrugged.  "How about the, Matt writes my esasy for me version."

Would I do this for anyone else?  God no.

I opened Word on his laptop and looked over at him.  "You give me the basic
idea of what you want written, and I'll tell you you're wrong and write
something compeltely different.  But with spelling errors and some
confusing grammar so your teachers don't suspect you of plagerism."

"You're so nice to me," he said, shoving me over a little, forcing me to
share the seat with him.  I was suddenly aware of his body pressing against
mine, the sweet smell enveloped my senses like incense and his grinning
face and lips only inches from mine.  "Well?  How about we start with a
modern approach.  Like, Claudius didn't really kill Old Hamlet.  You like?"

I moved a little in my seat as I felt his leg come to rest against mine.  I
shrugged and began typing, the nearness of him forcing me to concentrate on
the essay, trying to control myself.

At one point during my typing, he reached across me and pulled a stack of
papers from the corner of the desk, and the way he leaned over I swore he
was going to kiss me.  My heart rate and pulse jumped and my blood pressure
threatened to pop my veins.  I calmed myself down enough to continue
writing about the drowning of Ophelia, when I felt his eyes move from the
screen to my face.

I continued to write, my hands almost shaking as he leaned closer and
closer.  I jumped as I felt his hand touch my cheek.  "Why don't you just
kiss me, Matt.  It would make this a lot easier."

I turned my face, and only then did I realize the proximity of him.  His
lips hovered only inches from mine, and his beautiful features were up
close in my vision.  He pushed a few strands of hair out of the way and I
felt our lips touch.  It was chaste and quick, but I could feel his
emotions almost cutting through the air.  I pulled back, and then thrust my
tounge inbetween his lips, feeling him gasp in surprise.  The warm dreamy
sensation of his tounge searching the inside of my mouth took over my mind
and I felt lightheaded.

He looked at me, a half smile hovering around his lips.  "Don't say it
Matt, I don't want to hear it," he said.  "This is about me, not about us.
This is about satisfaction, not about the 'l' word."

The 'l' word.  Love.  I nodded wordlessly as he pulled my shirt off.  He
undid my belt and pulled my pants down, and I watched as he turned me
around to face the desk.  I spread my legs without thinking, gripping the
edge of the table as hard as I could, knowing what would happen.  Dreading
it, but wanting it more than anything.

I felt him press against me, and my vision turned red.  I could feel him
breathing heavily, and a sudden tightness and sickness spread through my
body.  Intense pain and pressure started to creep through my veins, and I
tried concentrating on his hands massaging my sides as he pushed into me
further and further.  I was sweating hard, and I felt overheated and almost
ready to die.

But suddenly, it stopped and my vision cleared.  I shifted a little,
getting used to his length and girth.  I felt the pressure relieved as he
pulled out a little, and push back tentatively.  Like a bomb exploding,
pleasure rushed to my brain and I shivered uncontrolably.  My inside was on
fire and I involuntarily moaned, wordlessly letting him know that now, he
could do whatever he wanted.

He grabbed my hips and slammed me all the way back on his rigid rod, his
pants almost becoming anamalistic as he pushed and pulled out of me,
grunting my name every time he thrust in, and giving a small gasp every
time he pulled back out.  I brought my wrists together and brought my
forehead down to meet them, breathing in and out, just concentrating on
breathing.  Finally, I felt his body tighten and his grip on my become
unbearable.  Raking down my back with his fingernails, I winced in pain as
I felt his hot cum blast into me.  I closed my eyes so tight tears appeared
at the corners and ran down my cheeks.  I felt my back begin to bleed
slightly, and heard his breathing relax.  I was still rigidly hard, but
nothing mattered anymore.

"That was great Matt," he said breathlessly, pulling out of me quickly and
collapsing into a chair.  I felt the hot cum running down the inside of my
legs, and the wetness of blood sliding down the abrasions on my back.  I
stood there with my boxers and pants around my legs, watching him breath.
I winced in pain as the pleasure of having him orgasm inside me subsided.
I hadn't cum, but I could take care of myself later.

I turned around and walked over to his bed, pulling up my pants and boxers.
I shook uncontrollably, for no reason and sat down, pulling my legs to my
stomach.  Through my haze, I watched James come over and kiss me again, his
hand painfully running across the deep scores on my back from his
passionate clawing.  I trembled at the pain, and watched as he quickly
retracted his hands, seeing the blood on them.

"Oh my god Matt, did I?" he asked in almost a whisper.

I nodded and fought back a tear.  "Can I have some bandaids, like five or
six?  Or maybe an entire box?"  It sounded lame now that I think about it,
but I was hurting really badly.

"I'm so fucking sorry Matt, I just got carried away, and I didn't know that
I did that, I've never," he began to stumble over his words, but I shook my
head.  "Don't worry about it.  It's just a scrape, I'll wash up at home."

I grabbed my shirt, continuing out of his room and down the stairs.  I
found it painful to walk, but I was too proud to fall to the ground and
cry.  I ran down the walk and yanked the car door open, fishing in my
pocket for keys.  I knew he wouldn't follow me, I knew I wasn't worth it to
him.

I pulled out of his driveway and drove back toward my house.

*****

I sat on my bed, my hair still dripping onto my pillow leaving a dark damp
spot.  I took two tylenol and put gauze pads on my back.  Bittersweet
Symphony played quietly from the corner, and the gray sky seemed to
permeate the walls and press into me.  I traced the mortar designs on the
blank ceiling and watched the motionless blades of the ceiling fan.  I
wiped away a few tears, and attempted to move to my side, but shots of pain
lanced through my back and I held still.

'That was great Matt.'  For you maybe, I thought bitterly.  This is too
much like Leon, way too much.

And I turned over on my stomch, ignoring the pain and let my damp hair flop
into my eyes.  Maybe I deserve it.

The soft drumming on the roof announced the beginning of the quiet shower.
It was a moderate, afternoon shower that washed away the gray and left the
scene to a beautiful clear sunset.  At least I had that together.

The rain ran down my window as I pondered why someone so flawless could be
so cruel and now know it.  How someone so beautiful and outwardly caring
could be so harsh and demanding.  And dead inside.

****

"It has to be flawless," he said underlining the word on the board so
heavily that chalk dust flew.  "There can't be one single mistake, do you
guys understand?"

I watched as the class colectively nodded.  "Alright, get lost for the day.
I'll see you all tommorow.  If you have any questions, don't bother to come
in early, I have early practice to coach."

I grabbed my bag and pushed my chair in, collecting my binder and notebook.

"Matty."

I knew it was him even before his beautiful face had a chance to appear in
my line of sight.

"What is it James?"

"Hey buddy, I got an A on my Hamlet essay, thanks again man," he said,
giving me a wink.  "Are we still on for that movie tonight?"

How could he act like nothing had happened?  More importantly, how could he
take all the hatred and hurt that I had built up inside, and with one
smile, make me walk on the clouds.  Against my better judgement, I nodded
and smiled.  "Sure, whatever you want buddy."

He shouldered his backpack and left the room.  I stood awkwardly in front
of the teacher before almost running to my locker.  I shoved my books
inside and grabbed he binders and folders I needed for the night.

I walked outside, reveling in the chilling air that assaulted my skin.  A
wind whipped up and russeled through the bare skeletons of the trees, void
of all leaves.  I took a moment, leaning against my car, to watch as the
sun dodged behind its ever-present mask of dark clouds.

Someone up there really had it in for me.

*****

"Matt, what's up?"

I looked and saw Rick leaning up against the heavy bookshelves.  His hair,
red for the time being, was short and spiky.  He smiled crookedly and
winked.

"Hey Ricky, what's going on?"  I shifted my pile of Bradbury and Hemingway
from one arm to the other.

"Nothing, I just saw you talking to James again.  Are you guys friends all
of a sudden or what?"

I shelved the stack of book I was reading and shot him a look.  "No, we're
just going to see a movie together, for old times sake.  I felt the
soreness in my ass and winced slightly.  "For old times sake."

Rick nodded, but I could see the suspicion behind his eyes.  "Just because
I'm six years older than you are doesn't mean that I have to be your
father, but you're making it pretty damn hard on me not to be.  I'm tired
of seeing you get fucked, literally, by guys that seem to crawl out of the
woodwork, praying for a second chance."

I sighed and leaned against the shelf.  "Well, Leon's second chance was
different in nature's than James' second chance," I said thinking a little.
But were they really?  "And when have you become the expert on
relationships, you're the one who hasn't even had sex yet."

He shrugged and shifted his weight from side to side and ran his fingers
over the curling black tatoo across his bare shoulder. "So are you coming
to my garage band-rehearsal tonight?"

"Shit Rick, I'm sorry man.  James wanted me to see that movie with him
tonight, but can I call you and make it up?  I promise I will."  God damn,
why did I always have to forget these things?

I knew Rick was disappointed, but as a beautiful talented man and actor, he
hid it perfectly.  "Sure.  Just give me a call and I'll set something up
for another time."

I nodded and turned to leave, but I knew he was about to say something, so
I paused.  "Matt, some things are right in front of you, but you refuse to
see them.  You're a headstrong and stubborn man.  Sometimes you
unconciously ignore things that would make you happy because your afraid
and unsure."

I bit my lip and acknowledged his words with a wry smile.

"Think with this," he said, pointing to his heart.  "Not this," he said
gesturing to his head.  "And love is important.  Do what you think is
right.  And remember that no matter how much you fuck up, I'll always be
here for you."

"Thanks Rick, and I mean it," I said giving him a kiss on the cheek.

And god, if you weren't straight, we would be something together, I
thought, watching him turn back to the shelf of books.

*****

"So, good movie?" James asked toying with my hand as the credits began to
roll.

I nodded and stood up.  "Ready to leave?"  I tried to stop, but I knew I
was leading him on, I knew that I was asking for it.  I was giving him the
look, and he was so good at reading my expressions.

We walked out of the theater and into the night.  I walked down the
sidewalk, holding my coat close to my body.  My breath blew in hazy clouds
from my mouth and nose, and I could feel the color rushing to my cheeks.  I
watched as we walked in and out of the pale pools of light the streetlamps
shed on the sidewalk.  Snow began to fall softly around us, the silence
pressing in, almost unbearable.

We drove home as the snow continued to fall.  I turned toward the window
and stared out as the freezing landscape whirled by in a blur.

At that moment, I knew I was in the wrong place, but there was nothing I
could do.

*****

I knocked on the door, checking my watch.  God, two thirty in the morning.
I adjusted my slightly torn shirt and, catching my reflection in the mirror
next to the elevator, I buttoned my jacket over it.  The door opened
slowly.

Rick was tired, his hair was messy and his eyes still had sleep in them.
His gray tank top was wet with sweat, and I could tell he hadn't changed
since his rehearsal.  His green eyes widened as he saw me and opened the
door further to let me pass.  "I'm not one to play guessing games, but was
it James?"

I nodded wordlessly and collapsed on his couch.  "We fucked again, not made
love, we fucked.  and it hurt."

I let the words hang in the silence for awhile before continuing.  "I don't
know Rick, I just seem to attract the assholes for some reason.  I don't
even like James, but he has this way of making me do whatever he wants
whenever he wants.  I don't have the self-resolve or the strength to fight
back.  I feel useless, small, insignificant, and mostly used."  I sighed
and threw my arms behind my head.

I felt Rick sit down next to me.  "Don't say that Matt, you're a great guy.
You're just a little confused.  Remember, nothing comes easily.  Someday,
you're going to have to go against your knowledge and judgement, and do
what your heart tells you.  Let go, feel your instinct.  It won't guide you
wrong, I guarentee you."

I nodded and kicked my shoes off.  He turned on the lamp on the end table
that gave the room a cheerful warm glow.  I felt better already, sitting
next to him.  I took my jacket off and draped if carefully over a nearby
chair.

"Coffee?" he asked as he got up and walked toward the kitchen.  "I have a
feeling I won't be going back to sleep tonight, and I definitely want a
strong cup."

"I'm sorry, I can leave if you want."

"Fucking get a life Matt, I've never thrown you out and I'm not about to
start now.  Just sit the fuck down and we'll talk this through.  Stop
apologizing for yourself, you're starting to sound like your mother."

I shrugged and folded my hands in my lap, waiting for him to return.  He
placed a steaming cup in front of me.  "So, tell me what you're feeling."

"You're starting to sound like a shrink Rick," I said as he took a sip of
coffee.  His face broke into a smile and he shoved me gently.  "Okay okay.
First Leon, and now James.  I don't understand why relationships have been
so difficult for me.  Tell me Rick, you know, you always know."

I watched as he placed his coffee cup on the corner of the table.  "Okay,
are you ready for the reason?"

I nodded, more than a little confused.

"Here's number one," he said.  Before I could speak, he was sitting next to
me, his lips pressed against mine.  I felt his hand wrap around my back,
and his warm breath on me cheek.  He was gentle, loving, and broke away
from the kiss slowly.

"Here's number two," he said, and kissed me again, this time with force,
his tounge pushing past my closed lips and searching the inside of me
mouth.  His hand traveled down my back and I felt him pressing me back into
the couch.  He pulled back abruptly and left me breathless, my mind
spinning.

"You like number two.  You like decisiveness in a guy.  You like it when he
takes the wheel, and you let yourself be run over too many times.  Being
kind and repectfull is one thing, but being submissive is another.  You
need to work more on sticking up for yourself.  Leon and James both took
advantage of your submissiveness."

He looked proud of himself as he relaxed into his chair.  "You need to work
more on liking number one than number two."

I stood up and walked over to him, never loosing eye contact.  "I liked
both of them," I said and pulled him to his feet.  "And that's why I keep
attracting guys like Leon and James.  Not because I'm submissive, but I see
something I want right in front of me, and because I think more about what
I know and less about what I feel, I make the wrong decisions."

I felt him kiss me softly again, and the love and emotion transfering to my
body through his touch made me shiver.

"I was waiting for that.  I was waiting for you to realize that you loved
me enough to skip over what you knew and assumed about me, and risked it
because you wanted this so much.  I was waiting until you could do that for
yourself."  He hugged me close and rested his head on my shoulder.

I collapsed against him and breathed quietly.  "I know, somehow, I knew
that this should have happened."

We moved over to the window, and I gazed down at the street, the snow
falling against the cold glass.  The air rushing from my mouth left a
steamy circle on the window, and I felt Rick's hand tentatively take mine
and squeeze it.  I looked up at him, with his messy red hair and green
eyes, his orange plaid pajama pants and gray tank top.  His tatoos and his
piercings.

I kissed his neck and I saw his reflection in the glass smiling.  "You're
flawless, you know that?"

He shrugged and pulled me closer.  "It doesn't matter.  What matters is
that you've seen past stuborness and logic, and made a move based on what
you feel.  You thought I was straight?  You were wrong.  I wanted you to
love me for me, not because you knew I was gay, or you knew that I wanted
you.  I wanted to see if you would do it on your own.  And it took awhile,
but you went the extra step and now we have so much ahead of us."

I felt his hand massaging my palm, and I looked back up at him.  He had a
faraway look in his eyes, and his five o'clock shadow was already coming
out on his face.  But he was flawless to me, and that was really all that
mattered.

*****