WHEN LAMBS BECOME WOLVES
By Nil Street
This story depicts a relationship between teenager males. If you are not of legal age to read such material or if it is not legal for you to read it for whatever reason, I ask you to leave now.
This is a work of fiction. The events and the characters are only and completely parts of the author's imagination and must be viewed as such. No human, no sheep and no wolf was harmed during the writing of this story.
This story is more about people getting to know each other, learning how to interact with each other, how to trust each other and also a story about love than it is a porn story. It may depict some sexual scenes and maybe not, it will all depend about the feelings I have while writing it. So if you were looking for a quick wank, I suggest you find another story.
The pseudonym Nil Street and the story When Lambs Become Wolves, along with its French version Quand les agneaux deviennent loups are protected by the international laws of copywrights. Special permissions may be granted for posting this story on other sites but as I don't necessarily want my writings to be associated to some of them, please be kind and ask before you do any criminal act you may regret in the future.
Now on to the story...
The Matheson's house was one of those four slopes roof rectangular red bricks bungalows that had started being built in the fifties on the aftermath of the Second Great War and during the Gray Jackets' propaganda, and was set on an about ten thousand square feet lot. This kind of houses had been very popular to the middle class up until the seventies, which also explained the fact that there were so many of them in a very close vicinity of each other. On both sides of the house stood cedar hedges and a couple of cherry trees stood tall in the front yard.
So it was not the look of the Matheson's property, since it was very similar to its surrounding neighbours, that captivated me as much as the whole ambiance of liveliness that seemed to cover every square inch of this place. I was so overwhelmed by it all that it reminded me of a show I had seen when I was about eight years old.
I had always fondly kept this memory of the Cirque du soleil show where people wearing eclectic costumes used to walk on the walls everywhere. There was definitely electricity in the air as this ecstatic feeling had crept its way into my very soul. That was the day I had realized there was so much in the world to see and to feel rather than staying cloistered into our fairy tale of a community where everything was so neat and groomed. This was the day I realized I wouldn't want to spend my whole life emprisoned in this universe of appearances that was the manor. This was the day that I decided I would fight for my rights someday... somehow. Now as I kept looking all around me, my eyes and mouth opened wide and trying to inhale as much of it as I could, I knew I was getting closer to my initial objective. I knew I wanted to be a part of this big whole circus that was displayed all around me.
"So, are you coming?" Shawn said, putting his arm over my shoulders. I knew his face was too close for comfort. But at this very moment, I didn't care at all. I had been dragged out of my metaphoric tower so to speak and now I was finding myself invited into this twillight zone and I wanted nothing more than to take a part of it. I wanted to shove as much of it into my brains and bring it back with me to the manor so I could replay all this scenery in my head for years to come. I almost slapped myself for not bringing my camera so I could capture this foreign life and replaying it over and over on TV up until the day I could escape this plastic world I was condemned to live in and finally be allowed to explore what had always been hidden from me. I knew though that for doing so, I would have to stand by my own and even risk being disowned by my father.
"Huh? Yeah," I answered as I felt my feet moving on their own in the direction of the front door. I found myself shivering and my whole body started shaking in the sheer terror and excitement I was feeling.
"You can not possibly be cold with all these clothes you're wearing," Shawn almost whispered, his face only a couple of centimeters from my ear. I looked at his face and mustered the courage to mumble, "No."
"So what is it? Am I making you nervous?" he asked me with his usual cocky grin. I so wanted to tell him that yes, he was the one making me nervous so to know what would happen then. But I was not about to tell him how much I liked this closeness, that even though I barely knew him I wanted to feel him holding me in his arms and tell me that everything would be alright. He was making me nervous alright, but he was not the only one. His father made me nervous. The surrounding made me nervous. Even the little guy that had just come out of the house to jump in the headmaster's arms made me nervous. And even though Shawn had been the only one to make me so anxious, I knew I couldn't say so. It was my day, as Shawn had told me earlier in my room. It was my day and I was not about to destroy this feeling. He had said he would entertain me, and even though I knew it would only be for one single day, I wanted to feel it as best as I could. I knew that if I was to tell him just how pleasuring his arm around me felt, it would be all over. It would be like leaving the circus in the middle of its show. So I slowly shook my head while finding another spot to focus. "Come on," he whispered, giving me a reassuring squeeze that made me almost faint. "It's time for fun."
As we entered the living room, I was transported further into my earlier visions. Huge African masks almost covered one of the bright yellow walls as psychedelic paintings adorned another, a Mexican knitted blanket was thrown on a couch, a huge and very orange spheric Asian paper lamp was hanging from the ceiling and several toys were sparsely displayed on a huge Persian carpet. Even though you could have probably inserted two of this room in one of the powder rooms at the manor, I felt as though it was where I belonged.
"Wanna go swimming?," Shawn asked, letting go of my shoulder. I nodded. "You may use the bathroom, he said, pointing to a door that stood at the end of the short hall. "I'll go change in my room."
When I came out of the room and realized Shawn was probably still in his room, I silently debated about wether I should wait there or simply go back to the living room when a door swung opened and a very toned and almost very naked Shawn, looking startled as we had almost collapsed together, came out of a very small but very inviting bedroom. I didn't know where to look since I was not expecting seeing so mush of his so defined body, his pectorals staring me right in the face and his biceps rushing their ways around me so I wouldn't fall down to the floor.
"Woah!" he exclaimed, "sorry about that!" I could feel his eyes examining me from head to toe. "What is this?" he asked, confused, while letting go of me and pointing at my suit. "I thought we were going to swim..."
"Well," I mumbled, trying to focus somewhere else than on his body and letting my eyes wander through the door and to the unmade bed in the corner. I could feel my cheeks flushing, so I went back at looking in his eyes. "This is my swimming suit," I tried to explain, a bit confused. I was wearing a very appropriate and very accurate black and orange attire for swimming lapses. The suit was a one piece of thin, light and aerodynamic lycra that hugged my body and helped me slide in the water so to increase my speed. It was zipped up to my neck and the only things you could see were my calves and feet, my shoulders and my arms along with my head, as I was also wearing a bathink cap, my goggles set on top of it.
"That?" he asked, showing me a grimace, which told me how ridiculous he thought that I was. He was only wearing a tight speedo short. I actually knew about them. I was not a complete moron, after all. I had seen a lot of them while traveling and on TV, but I had never been allowed to wear one. For me, swimming meant doing lapses and try to increase my speed while my private coach monitored the whole thing and took count of my time. I had never played in the pool. Swimming had never been about fun but about business. I felt my stomach knot and I was afraid I was going to puke. I had become way smaller than I really was by the second this simple 'that?' had escaped his mouth. As overwhelmed and giddy I had felt up until I showed up with this suit that had started to burn me everywhere it touched me, now I was feeling defeat come back to show me its ugly face. For a second or two, as I felt my smile falter, I tried to maintain it on my face but realizing it looked as fake as the one I had seen so many times on my friends' faces, and as I could feel my shoulder slumping and my heart trying to find its way down and to my guts, I sighed and looked down.
We were from two different classes. He was from the free spirited, joyful, carefree one. I was from the stuck up one. After speaking with him earlier, I knew he had not invited me to degrade me. I knew that he did trust we could have fun together, and event hough I knew I should have known better than to believe it myself, I had basked in the simple idea of him wanting to share his freedom with me. Now I knew how silly this whole utopia really was.
So I slowly turned around, head between my feet, tuned out Shawn's calls, brushed off the hand that tried to stop me and walked back to the bathroom where I locked myself back from the world. As soon as I finally felt myself alone, even though I could still barely hear the pounding on the door and the voice of Shawn calling my name, I fell to my knees. I was feeling very tired all of a sudden.
It didn't take me more than a couple of minutes to change back to my street clothes but it felt like hours had passed when I opened the door, my bag hanging from my shoulder. 'Oh just great', I thought as I saw that all this weird event had gathered the attention of everybody in the house. I felt like a stupid lonely disease being dissected under the binoculars of a microscope. Shawn, the headmaster, the very pregnant woman who I assumed to be Shawn's mother and even the small kid were all looking at me with this questioning look that was putting me on the spot.
"What's happening here?" the woman spoke softly. If I hadn't been feeling as if I had been caught peeing on the stove, I might have taken it for concern.
"It's okay, mom," Shawn mumbled. "It was my fault."
"I'll call a cab and wait by the curb," I whispered, fishing for my cell in the bag and making my way through the mass of people gathered there, trying not to break down in front of these strangers. As small as the living room was, I felt as though every step I was making to the door made it go further out of my reach. So when I finally felt the doorknob turn under my hand, keeping my gaze right in front of me so I wouldn't be drawned back into their invading gazes, I gathered enough courage to say, "I'm sorry," before I walked through the door and in the open air.
As I took a last view of the scenery that had subjugated me earlier, I remembered what my philosophy (our school being secular, we were having philosophy introductions instead of religion courses) teacher had once said while refering to Lavoisier's words, "Nothing is lost, nothing is created, everything is transformed." This whole world was still the same, only my way of seeing it had been transformed by the swing of my mood. I had to get away from there and feel secure again in my bedroom. So I ran away. I had to get as far away from all these middle class houses where people were so much different than what I was used to. I ran and ran until I finally reached the corner of the busy boulevard. There, lost in the anonymity of the passing cars, I sat down on a patch of land that was exceeding from a tall wooden fence, trying to regain my composure and my breath.
The only thing that was crossing my mind was that I was a failure. I couldn't fit in either worlds. I had just ruined any possibility to get to know this goofy guy that was Shawn, I had failed my will for freedom, and on the other side, I had never been able to catch the attention of my parents, the people who were supposed to love me unconditionally. I was feeling numb and even if I had wanted to stand up and walk my way back home, I couldn't have gathered enough energy to do so. Even calling a cab seemed too ask me too much effort. So I threw the phone back in my bag and stayed there, sitting on the patch of grass, my thumping head buried in my hands and letting the tears flow freely.
"There you are!" I heard relief in the voice as I felt Shawn sit down beside me and his arm crawling around my back and to my shoulder. Under his touch, I stiffened a bit. My mind kept telling me to lean on him but another side of me said otherwise. A part of me told me to run away as fast as my feet could bring me to, and as I was used to run away from things, I knew pretty well that nobody could follow me close, and the other part, the one that said I needed to let go of my constant fright of freedom kept me there under Shawn's safe arm. He had dressed back to shorts and t-shirt now and I wanted to let go of my previous discomfort. "I'm sorry," he whispered in my ear as his forehead met the side of my head. "I didn't mean to upset you," he continued after I hadn't said anything. "They are sorry too." They, I understood, were his parents. "They just thought something bad had happened."
"I'm fucked up," I mumbled, letting myself lean into the comfort of his body.
"Don't say that. It's not true."
"Yes it is."
"It's just that..." He was searching for his words. "When I talked about swimming, what I meant was actually getting to relax in the water, maybe play dunk and jump, but when I saw your swimming attire that looked so serious, I simply thought that it was a bit..."
"Too much?" I asked.
"I don't know... too professional, I guess. A bit like when I put on my football gear. Don't you ever just relax in the water? I mean, you have this huge pool in your garden..." His voice trailed on the last word.
"No..." I whispered.
"Never?" he asked.
"Never," I answered.
"The only times I'm allowed to swim are when I practice. I have a coach supervising practices five times a week all year around."
"All year around?" Shawn asked incredulously.
"We have another pool in the basement. I like the outside one better, but in wintertime it's in the basement pool."
"So you have a swimming coach. Are you doing any competitions?"
"Yes," I said, lifting my gaze from my hands and to the street. "I'm not good enough though. So I need to practice more."
"Have you had any medals yet?"
"I've won bronze at freestyle on last year's state championship," I said proudly.
"Wow!" Shawn exclaimed. "And you think you are not good enough? Why?"
"Because I didn't make it to the gold," I answered, looking as if this should have been obvious. "My father used to be the state champ..."
"But still, I'm impressed! I didn't know you were into competitions. Do any other sports?"
"I play tennis," I said.
"I play tennis too. Single or double?"
"Single. I don't really like teaming."
"Nah! I'm not good enough," I exclaimed, a grin finally spreading on my face as I looked into his eyes.
"You'll have to convince me!" he grinned back. "Want to go back and relax in the pool?" Shawn asked, changing the subject back to the old topic. I shook my head. "I'm sure I can find a speedo that would fit you among my old clothes."
"They must think I'm a lunatic fool..."
"You worry too much. That was my pounding on the door that caught their attention. My mother was about to come and get you. Luckily she's way too pregnant to run after anybody." He ended this by raising a brow and showing me a smile full of teeth and dimples, which instantly melted all of my worries.
I finally nodded and we were on our way back to his house.
I felt a bit naked as I made my way out of the patio door and into the garden. But even though I was feeling a bit out of place in that single piece of cloth that at my place would have been considered obscene, so very inappropriate, I felt also very free. Mr. Matheson was playing with the youngster in the pool and Mrs. Matheson, dressed in a one piece swimming suit was lying in a lawn chair with sunglasses on her face while oiling her already golden tan, her belly protruding as a beach ball. I hadn't seen Shawn though until it was too late and he sprayed the garden hose all over me, the cold water startling me and extracting a high pitch giggle.
"Gotcha!" He smirked at me. Mrs. Matheson, who had been a collateral victim of Shawn's prank lifted her sunglasses slowly, seemingly used to that kind of behavior from her son, and gave a mock exasperate sigh.
"Kids these days..." she mumbled, but decided against saying anything else, prefering to settle back in the comfort of her chair. I'd stay on my guards if I were you, William, though," she said, looking past me to her son.
I didn't even have time to turn around to see what she was talking about when I felt myself being lifted from the ground by strong arms. Shawn had lifted me off the floor as if I had been a potato bag. Well, I guess me being so thin made it easier on him since he probably had a hundred pounds over me. I giggled and struggled for what it was worth even though I knew my fate had been sealed by this gorgeous aggressor. One second I was feeling his strong arms surrounding me and the next I was thrown in the pool, splashing Mrs. Matheson in the process. As I regain my balance after resurfacing, I saw the woman was standing up, drenched like a cat under a rainstorm, her hair disheveled and her mouth hanging wide opened in shock.
I was so about to apologize for that when, from the corner of my eyes, I saw Shawn jumping from the diving board and roll into a ball before all the water and its content including me was lifted out from the pool and splashed over the pregnant lady. Okay, maybe I'm eggagerating it a bit, but it was actually sort of violent.
And that's when I witnessed this sudden change of attitude. Hadn't it been for her proeminent belly, Mrs. Matheson would probably have rolled down to the ground she was laughing so hard.
That night, as Shawn drove me back to the manor, I was gliding on cloud nine. Sometimes my gaze crossed Shawn's satisfied grinning eyes and I coudn't help but grin back. Even though this day hadn't been perfect, I must admit that after coming back from my initial shock and my paranoļa, I'd had a great time.
"What are you thinking about?" he asked me.
"Your family is great."
"Sure?" he asked me, fishing for more. "My father was not all over you?" he inquired, refering to our previous discussion at the manor.
"Nah, he was great," I reiterated. "He was different than at school."
"I'm glad about that.
"I think you should talk to him though."
"I spoke to him today."
"No, what I mean is..." I didn't let him finish though as I knew what he was trying to say.
"I don't know about that," I said, feeling my grin falter a bit.
"You just said he was great..."
"He was," I defended myself. "But we were not at school."
"So why don't you try talking to him next time you come home?" he asked me, sending me little glances from the corner of his eyes as though I was about to tell him off.
I was silent for a couple of seconds, trying to gather my thoughts about the implication that he had in fact, invited me to come over again.
"So..." I said, unsure, "after my little event you still want me to..." he didn't let me continue as he interrupted me.
"Of course!" he shrugged. "Friends visit each other," he said matter of factly.
For dinner, we'd had beef and vegetables brochettes cooked on the barbecue and ate outside, which was not exactly a first but having fun while doing so was. They'd all stayed dressed in their bathing suits for dinner, but I'd put my inappropriate clothes on. Please bear with me, it was also a first for me, so nobody made any comment for me being more comfortable with a little bit more than the thin shorts on. When it was time for me to go though, I dressed back into my street clothes so not to be caught in shorts by the stupid butler who would rant it to my father. I didn't feel like being scolded by this stranger on his next trip to the manor for not behaving like the perfect noble kid I had been raised to be. Please...
"Your father was very disappointed not to see you before leaving Bridgehampton," Steven said, his nose high in the air. As soon as I was out of the Matheson's car, he had obviously rushed to the door so he could be the first to scold me for my behaviour.
"Yeah right... Like he would care." I was surprised of these words leaving my mouth as soon as my mind thought them.
"What did you just say young man?"
"Nothing," I mumbled.
"So where were you?"
"This is none of your business, Steven," I said.
"Well excuse my interest in what you were doing out of the property while there was this splendid reception held in your honor. Your father was really disappointed when he came in looking for you this afternoon and saw you had left." I started feeling guilty over the fact that I hadn't been there when my father, for once, had felt an interest in me. But it was short lived. "There was this really important person your father wanted you to meet..." bla-bla-bla... as usual. I tuned him out and walked away, knowing too well the meaning of it. My father had come in search of me to show me off to his so important fellow businessman. Well fuck you, Mr. Number Six! I'd had a very nice birthday for once and it was no thank to you!
During the two months that followed, me and Shawn became fast friends to the dismay of the snobbish crowd. As often as possible, everyday if I could, after my lessons, of course, I went to visit the Matheson in their neighborhood which seemed increasingly familiar to me over time. At first, it was Shawn who came to fetch me at the manor but as soon as I received my driver's licence, I started driving myself back and forth between our homes. Thanks to my father, who probably never guessed that the present he had given me to show off to his social cast would be my ticket to freedom, I started spending less and less time at the manor. In the morning I drove to school, in the afternoon I would come back for whatever lesson I had to attend, then I would leave in my Jeep. I would wander the streets with Shawn besides me more often than not, I would go to eat in or out of town, or even at the Matheson, where I was their guest as often as I wanted, and I would come back to the manor late in the evening. For the first couple of nights, Steven was waiting at the door and scolding me, but seeing as it didn't work, that I always looked at him as if thinking he was dumb, which to my opinion he was, before walking away and repeating the same thing the day after, he finally got tired of it.
It was one of those fabulous nights in the middle of July when Shawn invited me for a first sleepover. That day, my swimming coach had called sick so I had driven to the Matheson's in the early afternoon. We had swam, we had sprayed Mrs. Matheson who had finally insisted I called her Alice, even though I would never do so, we had played with Alexander, Shawn's younger brother and we had eaten sandwiches by the pool in our speedos when Elizabeth, who insisted to be called Liz, Shawn's older sister and her husband Kevin had joined the party. While both women kept comparing the size of their bellies and showing them off, a hand on their backs so we all knew they were poor pregnant women, we men all became little kids all over again.
I laughed at Mr. Matheson's behaviour while he was chasing us down with his water gun, I was shoved in the pool more often than not, we just had plain, disgusting and utterly inappropriate fun.
"Guys, would you like a beer?" Kevin had asked me and Shawn, shoving bottles of McAuslan in our hands without waiting for a response. That felt weird. Kevin was twenty one, so I knew he could drink. Even though Shawn was only seventeen, well, we were at his house, so I guessed that if Kevin was giving him a beer, it must have meant that this was okay for him. But me? I was only sixteen, and I was quite aware about the stupid legislation saying that you couldn't give alcohol to minors, even on your own property. Jurisprudence had made it clear. Even though I thought that learning how to drink was less dangerous than learning how to kill, I was not really comfortable with the idea of the Matheson being caught by the nosy butler smelling beer on my breath. And I was also not hot to the idea of drinking a beer then driving my Jeep, even though one beer is not enough to blow the balloon. I couldn't have risked it.
"You can stay the night if you want. There's a spare room in the basement," Shawn said, bumping shoulder with me.
"I don't know..." I trailed, debating between staying there or going back to the manor. "I have a tennis lesson tomorrow."
"What time is it?"
"At one in the afternoon," I said.
"Oh come on!" Shawn insisted, putting his arm around my shoulders, which he knew would make me melt, the bastard. Then he raised his voice so everybody would hear what he said, saying "If you sleep here, I promise I'll cook my fabulous mediterranean brunch!" Then he looked me square in the eyes, a beaming grin showing both dimples and winked at me. I couldn't help myself and so I blushed as bright a red as the bricks on the house. That said and done, he started a countdown. "Five, four, three, two, one and..."
"You've got to say yes!" came Mrs. Matheson's excited reply.
"Now you're not going anywhere before at least after he's finished cooking it!" Mr. Matheson followed his wife.
"Okay! It's decided now! We are staying the night too!" was Liz's intervention.
"Yes!" shouted Kevin, while doing the winner's fist in the air before plunging his hand in the cooler, "now I can take another one!"
"You're stuck here!" Shawn mock sneered at me, giving me a squeeze before opening my beer.
"I could fight, you know!" I shouted, laughing so hard I was afraid to pee my pants, which of course would have been way inappropriated.
"Yeah try as you might, big boy!" Liz said. I thought she was about to tell me how small and how scrawny I was, but instead, she came with "You know, we're two in there," pointing to her stomach while standing by my shoulder.
"Yes, young man," Mrs. Matheson mock glared at me, standing on the other side of us. "And with us, it makes four, okay?"
"Yeah well," I said, almost caving, which I was kind of eager to do, "it seems as though with all these people staying the night there won't be any guest room left for me though."
"Well I'm pretty sure Shawn would be pleased to share his bed with you since he's the one who launched this open invitation!" Liz said, nudging her brother's back with her knee. Now I must admit that if I hadn't been red already, I would definitely had turned all of Sico's palettes.
The mere idea of spending the night with Shawn was appealing as much as it was frightening. Even though he had a double bed, I was afraid I would do something that would betray my feelings towards him. And then our friendship would be over. I couldn't risk that. I suddenly started to feel numb, the way I had felt that first day I had come to the Matheson's house and I tensed. And my heart sank to my knees when I felt Shawn's arm leave my shoulders and saw his smile falter.
"Liz, please..." he mumbled. "Stop embarrassing him."
"Okay..." she said, the teasing smile gone from her face. I would have kicked myself in the gut if I could have done it for killing the firework mood had been the farthest thing that I had wanted to.
"I should go," I stated as I stood up. "It's getting late." My hands were already blue from the cold tension that had crept its way into me, so I started to brush imaginary dust from the back of my suit. "I'll have to wake up early and do some stretches before my lesson anyway." My eyes wandered around, trying to tell how appreciated the invitation had been, but I could not really focus on anybody lest I started to cry. "It was fun," I said. "I'll call you after practice," I added, putting a hand on Shawn's shoulder before I started to walk away.
"Hey! Where are you going?" Alexander asked me with his eyes wide. "You can sleep with me!" That brought me a laugh.
"I'm afraid you wouldn't sleep much with me in your bed," I said, kneeling down and ruffling his hair. "I'm snoring like a bear!" Then I growled while my fingers tickled his side for good measure.
"Oh come on!" Kevin said as I handed him his intact beer bottle. "You're the only one of Shawn's friends I know!"
"You could sleep on the couch!" Alexander exclaimed excitedly. "If you snore, then, robbers would get scared!"
"I'll sleep on the couch," Shawn finally said, standing up and joining my side. "You can have my bed."
"Nah, it's okay, I'll take the couch. That was very wise of you Alexander." I was afraid the kid would injure himself if he smiled any wider. So I ruffled his hair again.
The gathering continued for a couple of hours more, way after bedtime for the little kid. But this was summer after all. I guess little ones get extended curfews on hollidays.
I had just had grabbed a shower and was on my way to the makeshift bed when I came face to face with Mr. Matheson who seemed to have been waiting for me in the livingroom.
"It was a very nice evening," I almost whispered, my hands fumbling with my t-shirt.
"Yeah, it was," he sighed. "I've wanted to tell you I'm sorry for quite a while, William," he said, looking out the window. So I sat down on the couch. I knew what he wanted to talk about, and he didn't need to do me any apology anymore. He had welcomed me in his home almost everyday for the last two months, how could he think he owed me an apology?"
"There's no need..." I started but he interrupted me.
"I think I may have seemed a bit nosy with you over the years. And even a bit pushy. Asking you all these questions and trying to push you to enroll in all of these activities... I didn't know anything about your... situation... back then. At school, I always try my best so the students enjoy their student life. You only are a teenager once in your lifetime. I don't know why I went a little harder on you than on the other students. Maybe it has to do with the fact that even though you were hanging up with your crowd of friends you still seemed a little lonely within them. And I know it is not really any of my business. You are sixteen," he said, turning his head in my direction to meet my eyes. "You are a great friend to Shawn."
"Well I must say that Shawn is a great friend to me too," I said, matter of factly.
"And you are a great friend of ours too." That last statement startled me a bit. "I know what you are planning to do." Now he had picked my curiosity. What did he think he knew? "Don't blame Shawn about that. He only did what he thought would be best for you." I was starting to shake.
A couple of weeks before, I had confided in Shawn that I was saving money so I could get emancipation from the state, so I could go and find myself a nice little apartment and finally be set free. I knew my father wouldn't have made a fuss about that since he actually never cared about me more than seeking I have a roof, food and education. And he wouldn't have wanted anything about it leaking through the media. Maybe I wouldn't even have been disowned totaly so he could continue keeping up appearances. He wouldn't have had me to show off anymore, but he still would have had his reputation intact.
"You know," he continued, "I don't know what William's, your father's, problem is. I think I will never understand it. He's got this great guy, this larger than life guy, right under his nose, and he doesn't even see him. So if there is anything I can do for you, if there is anything we all can do for you, please, just ask and I, we, will do anything in our power to help you." As he made his way out of the livingroom, he put his hand on my shoulder. "If you ever needed a place to stay for a while, we'd be really happy to have you." Then he was gone, leaving me with mixed feelings running their ways a hundred miles a minute in my head.
I laid down under the blankets, my arms behind my head and eyes open wide, thinking of Mr. Matheson's words over and over.
I had probably just dozed out after a long wrestling match with the couch when I felt a hand gently shaking my shoulder. When I opened my eyes, Shawn's face was about an inch or so over mine.
"Come sleep in my bed," he whispered.
"What?" I asked, yawning. "Why?"
"The couch's not comfortable," he simply said.
"It's not so bad," I replied, arching my back a little, betraying my statement in the process.
"Yeah right!" Shawn snickered. He was beautiful with his dimples and the mystery in his eyes. He was goofy. But better than that, he was my goofy.
"What?" he asked, an innocent look coming to his face. He was so oblivious to how beautiful he was, it was not even believable.
"Nothing," I muttered, a shy smile finding its way on my lips.
"Okay," he muttered back with this kissable silly grin on his face. "So, are you coming?"
"Okay..." I whispered.
I'd like to say to say that we slept all snuggled and comfy in each other'arms but it would all be the worse lie I'd ever told. The whole night, I barely slept. I kept thinking about the fact that I was in Shawn's bed, that he was lying and sleeping right beside me. This big, goofy and beautiful guy who I was so proud to call my friend for the last two months, the guy for whom I felt my feelings grow to disproportionate dimensions was there by my side, snoring softly with one of his hand so close to me I could have just held it if I had wanted. Well, I wanted to hold it. But I was absolutely terrorized at the mere idea of acting on my thinking. It was the first time ever that I was in bed with anybody so I didn't feel very comfortable either. The last time I checked the clock before finaly falling into a restless slumber, it was about four o'clock.
I woke up, startled by Shawns' body moving as he was trying to work his way over mine so he could get up. Again, he was too close. Way too close and I felt his morning excitement hit my leg through the thin sheet as he put one foot to the floor.
"I didn't mean to wake you," he whispered.
"It's okay," I mumbled before falling back asleep.
I think I would have slept the whole day through if it hadn't been for the smell that found its way from the kitchen, under the closed door and to my nose. It was a mix of dark roasted italian espresso mixed with the freshness of smoked salmon, of scrambled eggs and toasts and it made my stomach rumble. I put my shorts back over my boxers and slowly opened the door. There were these sounds that probably were so typical to anybody but were so foreign to my ears, the sound of coffee slowly making its way through the filter and up into the italian coffee maker that was sitting on the stove, the distinct sound of eggs and maybe something else being cooked. I walked into the kichen and backed against the counter, watching that perfect guy who, by the look given by his whole attitude, seemed to be enjoying himself.
"Good morning," he grinned. I could never get enough of that face who always brought a smile to my lips. "Slept well?" he asked.
"Yes," I lied. He lifted an eyebrow. Okay, maybe I didn't look quite refreshened and bright. "Okay, not really."
"Got things on your mind?" he asked me, giving me this intense stare of his. I shrugged. "You know, William, I'm not there just to goof around. I'm there if you feel like talking."
"You're always there when I feel like talking. It seems as though I do only that."
"Yeah well, I like you, okay? So whenever you feel like it, you do it." It was my turn to lift an eyebrow in his direction. That made him snicker a bit and for a moment, he seemed to try and focus elsewhere before deciding against it and staring right back at me. "What?" he asked, seemingly confused.
"You have anything you want to share?" I asked back, turning his question against him. "You know, I'm there too, even though it seems as though it's always me who's in some kind of existential confusion."
"I know that."
"Anything you want to share?" I challenged. He was silent for a minute or two, probably gathering the courage to tell me off. So I decided I probably had gone too far. "Forget it," I mumbled. "I have no right to push you to say anything. I was just being nosy, I guess."
"No," he whispered, putting a hand on my cheeks, fingers over my right ear and playing lightly with my hair, his eyes boring into mine. "You're not nosy. Don't say that." I was feeling my hands freeze, my mouth felt dry suddenly, my whole body was shaking and I had trouble breathing. I closed my eyes and felt a single tear crawling on my cheek. "What's wrong?" His voice was so smooth I fell for him all over again. I shut my eyes tight and shook my head, but by doing so, I felt more tears on my face. He connected his forehead to mine. "Oh shit," he whispered again. "I should have known it." He was silent for a couple of seconds. "Is this what I think it is?" He muttered, barely a whisper.
I knew he had it all figured. I was trapped. This was it. I envisionned my world crumbling down again. I'd be back to case one without even this friend I had learned to love within the two months I had known him. I couldn't lie to him. He knew me too well. So I hung my head low, softly nodding in the process as a painful sob escaped my throat.
"There's something I want to share with you," he whispered, his breath blowing on my tears. I opened my eyes.
He lifted my chin with his fingers and when I felt his lips brush against mine, my left hand grabbed his t-shirt a moment before shooting up to cup his jaw. He pulled me to him and our tongues met.
I was not a very experienced kisser. I was not experienced at all. I just hoped he would not think I was awful and I guess this lonely thought actually made me awful. We bumped teeth and it hurt, but when I felt his grin, I knew it was alright. So we kissed again.
"Your eggs are burning," came a deep voice from behind of me, which almost made my heart jump out of my chest until I felt a hand ruffling my hair playfully. "Good morning, William."
To be continued.
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