This story and all character are copyright 2010.

Disclaimer: This story contains gay themes and some sex. If this offends you, don't read, cuz, you know, that'd just be a dumb thing to do.

Heights

Darkness

Darkness can be dangerous and devastating -- the unknown's playground.

Noah Dittrich knew all about the darkness.

The 16 year old sat on his bed with his back glued to the wall and his eyes locked on to the red numbers burned into the darkness by the digital clock. Like a fucking lighthouse beacon warning of impending, he thought as he ran his hand through the short blonde hair on top of his head. He took notice of the sweat which had caused it to stand erect. I probably look like that Something About Mary bitch. He pushed the thought out of his head as he realized his hair was much too short for that.

The clock sat across the room from Noah and rested on top of a small, three legged table with a sheet draped over it. Stupid OCD mom. He rolled his eyes and let out a short chuckle, then ran his eyes from the supposed dust cover back to the red numbers cutting the darkness. They didn't provide enough light to make him feel comfortable in the darkness, only lit up the stupid white sheet, dust cover, whatever.

5:47

Another 13 minutes until the fuckin' blaring. He shut his eyes. Sleep began to close around him in a manner that could be felt, like a burial shroud being pulled up from his toes, the warmth it created slowly ascending until it reached the top of his head. Like that damn dust reducing sheet thing. The thought popped in his head for only a moment and was then released, much like thoughts usually are when a person is teetering on the edge of sleep's abyss.

Body swinging, death's obvious grip apparent on its face.

Noah eyes snapped open, but the image seemed to be burned on his retinas... or whatever part of the eye would cause such a thing to happen --he was never into all that science shit. He struggled in the darkness, eyes darting, searching for something to latch onto.

5:54

The red digits, though they slowly ticked towards trouble, became his savior for the moment. His eyes quickly set on them as he breathed deeply, trying to get the panic under control. He felt a warm sensation falling down his cheek. Reaching up, he realized that a tear had fallen from his left eye, wiped it away, and closed his eyes in an effort to suffocate any other tears that may try to stain his face with pain. The entire scene played out in secret, covered by darkness, like a drunk sexual encounter that both participants would regret in the morning.

What the fuck? I don't cry. I haven't cried, since, since...

It wasn't that the start of the dream had shocked him, like watching one of those gross internet videos, that 2 Girls 1 Cup shit. He had seen the image a million times, the events of that night playing out in his head every night as he drifted into dream... nightmare, whatever, but the pain behind the dream, behind the events of that night still shocked him -- shocked him physically, violently, like a toaster in the bathtub.

5:58

With nerves under control and vomit pushed back into his stomach, Noah got up, fumbled around the darkness, reached the alarm clock, and switched it off before the blaring had a chance to rattle his bones. Fucking darkness. He tried to make his way towards the bedroom door.

The darkness in this room, in my past, in my fuckin' future... darkness everywhere.

Finally finding the doorknob, he pushed the thoughts out of his head.

I hate sounding like a little bitch.

He opened the door, and the light from the hallway flooded the room as light does when it finds itself butting up against darkness. The hallway was rather long and broke off into four separate rooms. Mom must have left this on for me before she left for work, he thought as he made his way across the hall and into the bathroom.

The bathroom was hardly unpacked. Boxes labeled bathroom shit -- Noah had packed the bathroom up in the old house -- were stacked against the wall where the shower ended. The only thing unpacked that Noah could notice were the usual things that he used to get his day started. Mom must've not gotten to the bathroom last night, Noah thought, grabbing his body wash and proceeding into the shower.

Under the hot, falling water, Noah washed the dirt and darkness away. He wouldn't completely be free from the darkness and that image that haunted his dreams. He never could fully get away from it. But, he had lived with it for nearly four months and he knew how to cope. Coping -- or getting the fuck on, as he liked to call it -- was something that he was becoming a master at.

I'll always live with the darkness. Noah rinsed the Axe from his body. It left him feeling physically clean and new, like a sports car right off the assembly line, but mentally, he was still dirty, even if the darkness had lightened up a bit. Yep, always live with it, even if I don't have to live in it.

Noah definitely felt lighter as he exited the shower and dried off. He wasn't sure if it was just the feeling of being clean after an entire day of moving and unpacking or if it was from shaking away the image that had snapped him awake only thirty minutes ago. Either way, Noah decided that he'd try to make the best of the situation, the new school, the new life that seemed to spring to existence from the past darkness. There might be nothing but the fuckin' unknown in front of me, but that doesn't mean that it has to necessarily be dark.

Noah was sick of the bipolar moods.

But, he had learned to cope.

Still standing naked, Noah checked himself out in the mirror as he brushed his teeth. Fuckin' raccoon, he thought, noticing the dark circles around his eyes. The nights had been filled with little sleep. Dreams in the darkness seemed to always keep him awake, and his eyes, which were usually green and bright, had taken on a dark tone. I almost look like I've been in a fight. And, in a way, he had. He had been fighting the pain, the dream, himself... and the darkness. And yet, he still found that he was attractive despite the black around his eyes. Over the summer, he had been working out constantly, hoping that the physical exertion would lead to some sort of mental release. The mental release never came, but a well defined body did, complete with traces of a six pack. At 6 feet tall, Noah could see himself growing into his body, into a man.

Throughout the summer, he hadn't given much thought about how he looked. There really wasn't much need, as he hadn't left the house. Having pushed all of the friends that he had grown up with in Cedarston away, he had spent the time alone in his room. His mother and sister were the only ones that ever placed their eyes on him, and honestly, he couldn't think of one reason to look good for them. But today? Today he decided that maybe he should look good for the beginning of the year at Arbor Heights High School. Maybe I'll actually spike my hair and wear something that doesn't have ten thousand fuckin' holes in it. I may not want to make any friends, but that doesn't mean I want people making fun of me either.

And with that, Noah set off to find the perfect outfit, the darkness only nipping at the outskirts of his mind.

Light

The first thing that met Adam Sayers's senses was the light shining through the window above his best friend's bed. The second thing was his best friend's hard cock drilling into his naked side. The third thing was an overpowering smell of alcohol -- the last remnants of last night's fifth of Smirnoff.

He snapped his eyes open and peered out the window. It looks like the opening credits of The Simpsons, he thought, as the white fluffy clouds and blue sky came into focus. Shit, what time is it?

As he jumped out of bed to find his Blackberry, the last ashes of sleep fell away, and the reality of his nakedness hit him. What the fuck. He stood beside the bed frozen, trying to pull the memories from the past night's alcohol induced blur. There was nothing but emptiness for a moment, then a click, followed by a flood of still images trying to join together and make a movie. The timeline never did become complete, but the images were enough for him to get the gist.

Tyler Borden had been his best friend since that first day in kindergarten when they sat next to each other on the big circular rug and listened to their teacher read some book about a caterpillar. They had instantly clicked and remained inseparable for the next 11 years. Their lives had taken different paths once they reached high school — Tyler becoming the popular point guard and Adam becoming the smart artist—, but they still remained close outside of school. No matter if it's good or bad, we won't be best friends anymore. Not after last night. Something's going to change.

Adam had known he was gay since he was 13 years old and began masturbating to images burned into his mind from the many times he had seen Tyler naked while changing during their sleepovers. His homosexuality was something that he was at peace with, yet he hadn't felt the need to share the information with anyone, including Tyler.

But last night that all changed.

There had been kissing. There had been foreplay. And then there had been sleeping, as Adam remembered -- at least he thought he remembered -- Tyler passing out from the Smirnoff before things could escalate.

The images from the past night created heaviness in Adam's chest because he loved Tyler, had for years, but had never thought that there could be a chance for the two of them. The heaviness in his chest was quickly washed away by something else.

Panic

Panic, because drunk people do drunk things and most of the time later regret those things. What if he regrets it all? I mean, it's not very likely that he's gay. He has a girlfriend for crying out loud. The doubt, or maybe it was reality, crept through his mind as he reached for his pants and grabbed his cell phone. He checked the time and realized that they only had a half hour to get to their first day of school; nevertheless, his impending tardiness was the last thing on his mind.

"Ty, wake up. We're late for school," Adam called as he quickly put on his boxers. "First day, and we're going to be late as shit." Tyler stirred and then his eyes popped open. Adam felt a chill run down his spine as their eyes locked for a moment. Adam willed his away and said, "I'm just going to borrow one of your outfits. I don't have time to run home."

"What the fuck, dude? I feel like shit," Tyler groaned as he threw his legs over the side of the bed.

I bet you do. You pounded most of that fifth yourself. Adam grabbed a green and blue button down shirt and a pair of jeans from Tyler's closet and started to make his way towards the bathroom. He was so wasted last night, he probably doesn't even remember.

"Wait bro, we need to talk about what happened last night."

Shit.

Tyler's words stopped Adam in his tracks. Stuck in the doorway, between the room and hallway, between a cock and a quiet place, Adam did the only thing he knew to do: he stared at the ceiling, his eyes glued to a small crack forming in the paint, like breaking ice trying to unburden a river. Who drinks almost an entire fifth and then remembers what they do? Tyler fuckin' Borden, that's who.

Adam had never been the type of person to torture himself over what could be. I'm entirely too level headed for that, he'd often say to himself. The fact of the matter was that he was smart, got excellent grades, and would eventually be going off to a great university somewhere. What was, was certainly good enough for him, so there was no reason to dwell on what could be. Yet, as Tyler did with almost everything in Adam's life, Adam found that Tyler broke that rule. When it came to Tyler, there had been a lot of wondering about what could be. Still, Adam surmised that this was due to the love that he felt for Tyler. Stupid chemicals and hormones. My mind can't combat my body.

"Look bro, shit happens when people are drunk. I don't know why that happened last night, but let's just forget it. Quiet is kept." Tyler's voice broke Adam's fascination with the ceiling crack and caused him to spin around abruptly to meet the boy's blue eyes. He let the eye contact linger for a moment until it became too uncomfortable. He snapped his eyes to Tyler's slightly ruffled black hair and then turned to stare at the crack again.

"Right, wouldn't want people to think we were fags." Adam let out a sigh and cringed as the word escaped his lips. Thankfully, the crack wouldn't tell on him.

"Right... and if Angela found out, dude, you know she'd breakup with me in a second. Look, let's just not talk about it anymore. Shit happens. I don't even want to think about it. At least it didn't go too far."

"Fine, whatever." Adam didn't wait for a response. He unglued his eyes from the crack and headed towards the bathroom. The unexpected emotional pain he felt willed him forward, his steps falling heavier than they normally would. As soon as he reached the bathroom, he closed and locked the door. He stood for a moment, trying to hold back the water that began to drip down his face. Adam decided that once again, his brain lacked control of his body, so he turned on the shower and hopped in, hoping to mix the tears with the warm shower water -- an odd mixture of what was and what could be.

Shaun Travis was startled by the blackness of his eyes. The bruises his father had left painted around the sockets were purple, but they only acted as a border around the true darkness living somewhere deep within his mind and windowed by his eyes. Am I really this gone?

His father had been drunk again. There had been yelling, something about a dinner plate in the sink. Then there had been violence... violence that would be starling to someone normal, but to Shaun it was simply par for the course.

Shaun Travis was big. At 6'4", Shaun played center for the Arbor Heights basketball team. He was extremely muscular for a 17 year old; nevertheless, he was completely outmatched by his former football star father.

When the beatings came, there was nothing Shaun could do but cower.

First day of fuckin' school, and I look like a punching bag. How am I going to explain this? It only took him the short time to run his hair through his medium length blond hair to come up with an answer. Fighting. It's what everyone expects from me, anyway.

Shaun had noticed a radical shift in his attitude since his mother passed away from a car accident a year ago. Shaun had been a great guy. He was fun loving and the last person to ever get angry. But then his father started drinking... and abusing. It shouldn't affect me so drastically, he'd often think. It's not like I'm a little kid. I'm practically a grown fucking man.

But it had affected him, and the changes had been significant.

First came the fighting. There had been seven throughout his junior year of high school, all of which had began over the littlest thing and ended with Shaun annihilating someone. Just like a mirror image of my dad, he had once concluded after laying a sinister beat down on some poor freshman who had come out as gay. He's beating me from within and from without.

The second thing that came was a direct result of the first. He had lost nearly all of his friends. His ability to freak out at anyone and everyone, a wolf inflicted with hunger, had alienated him from all the people that he had been close with his entire life. All that he had left was the monster he lived with, and it made him so physically sick at times that he had to hurl whatever little food he had consumed into the toilet.

Shaun's metamorphosis into a monster -- into his father -- had been complete when Shaun realized he had become a bigot. His father always had been racist, like some caricature of 1940s southern white pride. Growing up, Shawn had come accustomed to hearing rants about `niggers leaching off welfare' and `nasty fags spreading aids', but he had always rolled his eyes at it. He had had several black friends and never had any problems with gay people. Just the last remnants of a dieing generation, he'd often think when pondering the bigotry within his home. Sometime during the last couple months of his junior year, a switch was flipped and he started hating everyone that was different than him. The last two fights he was in had been caused by pure rage lashing out at gay people.

His beatings finally beat his hatred into me, he had concluded during one of his clearer moments -- a minute of lucidity that had become rarer and rarer over the months.

Shaun had just rinsed his mouth out in the bathroom sink when the door flew open behind him. His father burst through and stood -- his tall frame rigid, his stone face stern, his veins probably already coursing with alcohol. "What the fuck is the matter with you? You best get to school, boy." His voice came out like a growl, causing Shaun to wince, even though it was something he had grown accustomed to.

Prophetic fuckin' mirrors, was all Shaun could think as he looked at their reflections. He's in my blood, literally, and there's nothing I can do about it. "I'm leavin' right now." Okay, that's good. Voice steady. No fear. Just like dealing with a pit bull.

Shaun turned to leave, and his father grabbed his arm as he brushed past him. Shaun froze in place, his mind throwing up the barrier that always came when he was anticipating an attack. After he had cleared his throat, David said, "Have a good day at school. It's your mom's birthday ya know? Just... just don't get too down." The words came out quickly, an odd cadence for something that sounded so forced.

Shaun stood for a moment. The reminder of his mother's birthday hit him like he had expected his father's fists to. And the niceness... the niceness of the put bull's bark freaked Shaun out. He would have much rather felt the bite. "Um, yeah, thanks. You too. I'll... I'll see you after school."

Shaun walked away slowly, not waiting for a response. He needed to escape the moment, escape the niceness of it all.

This wasn't reality.

Adam sat in the passenger seat of Tyler's old beat up Ford pickup and stared out his open window at the empty spot where Tyler's mom, Nina, usually parked her Durango when she wasn't at work. The late summer air was hot and its thickness nearly choked him.

The two boys had gotten ready for school quickly and in silence. Still, even with their hurried showers and quick dressing, they were going to be late for their first day of school. Whose idea was it to get drunk the night before the first day of school? That would be Ty, of course. And I followed along just like I always do. I've got entirely too much to lose to be messing up at school.

Adam rapidly tapped his foot on the floor mat. He wanted to get to school but didn't know how to break the awkward silence that had permeated their activities since waking up.

I've got entirely too much on my plate to deal with this shit. I need fewer distractions, maybe less Ty.

Almost like he was psychically linked into Adam's thoughts, Tyler broke the silence right on cue. "Are you gay?" The question came out in a monotone. The words were calm and steady; nevertheless, they caused Adam to visibly shudder.

His foot ceased its thumping, but his eyes remained glued on the empty space in the garage.

"Would it matter if I was?"

"So you are?" Again, the words were calm and steady. Again, Adam visibly shuddered.

If I'm going to do this, I might as well do it right, Adam realized. He turned and faced his best friend. There was a moment where he forgot to breath, remembered again, inhaled, and ran his hand through his hair. It was a stupid little thing and almost made him chuckle, but then he realized the gravity of the situation unfolding before him.

Shit, just do it.

"Yeah, okay, maybe I am gay." The words, which were leaving his lips for the first time, made him flinch. Maybe I'm not fully at peace with this. Or... maybe it would be easier if I wasn't telling Ty.

"Why?" The question took Adam by surprise, and this time... this time he actually did chuckle. At least it started with a chuckle, but, within 30 seconds, it had become an outright laugh.

"You freakin' amuse me, ya know that?"

Light red started to creep into Tyler's cheeks, barely noticeable on his tan skin. The blush only stayed for a moment, and then, "That's not what I mean. I mean, like, how do you know?"

"It's simple. Cocks turn me on, vag doesn't." Adam was surprised how well he was handling the situation. There had been some uneasiness at first. And, he decided, the fact that he was telling Ty was a benefit, not a drawback. Adam had spent more time with Tyler than he had anyone else, including his family. He always felt nothing but comfort when he was with him, and that apparently didn't change when it came to outing himself.

"Aren't you afraid of people knowing?" Tyler asked, his voice lower but still calm. "I mean... Look, bro, if it were me, if I was gay, and I'm not saying I am, but if I was, I'd be scared as shit to have people find out." The phrasing of the question pinged something deep inside of Adam. It was like some rarely used part of his mind was trying to tell him something, but he didn't bother to try and dig it up to the forefront of his conscience.

"A little. I mean, that's why I've never told anyone. I've known I was gay, since... since forever, but you're the first person I've told. But then I think. You know, it's not like we live in fuckin' Jesus land. This is a big city. I mean, there's like 15 gay kids at our school. They're all out and no one really seems to give a shit."

"What if you tell someone and they don't like it? Dude, what if they beat your ass or some shit?" It was obvious to Adam that the question was just that, and not some sort of veiled threat. Of course, Ty really didn't do veiled threats. If he had a problem with any of this, Adam would have known. The truth of the matter was that Tyler was taking this well, oddly well, and he was nothing but calm. Adam was surprised, but he shouldn't have been.

There's a reason we're best friends.

"I can handle myself. Besides, I'm not going to, like, start sucking cocks behind the bleachers. I don't necessarily want to hide who I am, but I'm not going to be marching down the street in a gay parade, wearing, like, some fuckin' pink thong."

Tyler let out a chuckle and then was silent. His eyes became glossy and he seemed to be lost in thought. After a moment, he seemed to come back to earth and his eyes locked on Adam's. "Are you in love with me?"

What the fuck?

Coming out to his best friend was all he could handle for one day. I can't go into this now, can I? Why should I? It's not like any good can come from it. "Yes."

Shit

Adam closed his eyes because he could think of nothing else to do. He leaned his head back against the seat and waited... waited for the inevitable backlash that his lack of impulse control had caused. But, it never came.

The pressure on his lips was light at first, like being tickled by a feather duster. Then, the pressure increased. His eyes shot open as he felt the poking at his lips. He opened and felt Tyler's tongue enter him. The electricity overtook his mind, pressure overtook his groin, and he barely noticed Shaun Travis's fist rocketing towards his face through the open window.