Inside-Out (12/20)

[ibonekoen]

It's the chapter you've all been waiting for. . .there be boy touching ahead!  :-D

“Come on in.” I call behind me, immediately heading to the kitchen. A joint will take too long. Need beer first.

He comes into the kitchen, looking hesitant. “Look, Zeke, I didn’t mean to get presumptuous about what’s going to happen tonight. We can just hang out, if you want.”

I shove a beer bottle into his hand, then taken it back, open it, and shove it into his hand again. Then I proceed to guzzle my own beer. When I’ve consumed the entire thing in about ten seconds, I catch my breath, then respond.

“Yeah.”

. . .

Oh fuck. That was GENIUS.

I try again.

“Look, there’s a lot you don’t know about me, Casey.” I say. “I’m not who you think I am.”

He takes a gulp of his beer then looks at me, smiling slightly. “Okay. So why don’t you tell me who you are.”

“Inside, I’m a lot more like you.” I say as I start on another beer. “Part of me spends most of my waking life terrified.”

He chokes in the middle of a gulp and end up coughing and wheezing for a few moments. When he’s recovered, he says, “You’re shitting me, right? YOU, terrified?”

He snorts.

“What?” I respond. “I put up a good front. If I was as tough as I come off, I wouldn’t be repeating my senior year for the third time.”

“So what are you terrified of?” he asks curiously as he leans against the wall, folding his arms over his chest.

“I don’t know.” I admit. “I’ve been hiding from it so long, I don’t remember. Part of it is people finding out I’m a giant fraud. But everyone in that school is, so I don’t know why it bothers me so much. I guess I’m really afraid of opening up to someone and getting rejected.”

This conversation’s getting heavy. Need more beer.

Chug chug chug. . .

“Ohhh.” he says knowingly as he nods. He takes another gulp of his beer and then starts picking at the label. “I can totally relate to that, Zeke. Although, in my case, the one time I actually did open up to someone, I was rejected. I got a little gun shy there for a while.”

“Fuck, if you picked Delilah to open up to, you’ve got no one to blame but yourself, Case.” I insist, then pause to belch. “‘scuse me.”

“It’s okay.” he says, waving his hand dismissively. “And you’re right. You’re totally right. I dunno. I thought maybe the alien attack had opened her eyes, changed her somehow. I was wrong. Very wrong.”

He gulps down the last of his beer, then sets the empty bottle down on the counter.

“Nothing’s gonna change a bitch like that.” I insist, starting to feel the beer. “Maybe you saw what you wanted to see? I mean, she’s got great tits, but her eyes’re dead. There’s fuckin’ nothin’ going on inside her head but spite.”

“Yeah, I found that out the hard way.” he mutters. He shakes his head, glancing at me. “Her tits aren’t that great. Too fake.”

“Mine’re real. I swear.” I say, grinning stupidly. I try to drink more beer, but the bottle’s empty. Stupid bottle. I’ll teach it! I’ll get another beer!

Back to the fridge.

He grins, giggling. “Awesome.”

I grin at him over my shoulder quickly before grabbing another beer. Beer makes social situations A LOT easier. Being secretly shy sucks large.

“So please tell me she was at least a decent fuck.” I say as I twist off the cap. There. This is good macho guy talk. Yeah.

“Well, it’s not like I really have that much of a basis to go on,” Casey says, shrugging, “but yeah, she was nice.”

He looks hesitant for a moment and then asks, “What about Miss Burke?”

“Honestly?” I respond, leaning against the fridge after closing the door. “I was hoping for more. I mean, I kept getting the sense that there was this hellcat waiting to be let out there, but it never happened. Sneaking around didn’t become her, I guess.”

Wow, it feels really good to just shoot the shit with someone.

“Guess not.” Casey says. He stares intently at his empty beer bottle he’d set on the counter earlier. He’s silent for a few moments, just staring at it, tilting his head to one side.

Then he glances up at me with those wide blue eyes, blinks and says, “I don’t know what you ever saw in her anyway.”

“Why’s that?” I ask, tilting my head curiously. “Be brutally honest. Want another beer, by the way?”

“Yeah, I would.” he says, nodding. “I just. . .never thought of her as your type. She’s too. . .withdrawn. Mousy. Afraid of her own shadow. I mean, even I’M not afraid of my shadow.”

“I like shy.” I say with a shrug as I pass him the bottle in my hand. “See? Don’t know me as well as you think you do.”

“You’re just a contradiction, Zeke.” he says, grinning. He raises the bottle to his lips, his eyes on me as he takes a gulp.

“You keep saying that.” I retort as I dive into the fridge once again. I’ll maintain eye contact one of these days. Really. “I think that’s just a nice way of saying ‘poser’ though. I’m only a contradiction because occasionally the real me sneaks into the bullshit front I put up.”

“I think you should let the real you show more. I think I could grow to really like him.” Casey says. “Is it hot in here?”

“It’s the booze.” I say quickly, but I wonder. “Well, if we hang out more, then you’ll see the real me more, but there’s no way I’m dropping my guard at school.”

“Hanging out more sounds good.” he says. “I’d like that. I mean, if you’re okay with that.”

“I wouldn’t have suggested it if I wasn’t.” I point out, arching an eyebrow. “Come on, let’s go somewhere more comfortable.”

. . .

“Wait. That sounded really wrong.” I insist. Ooooooooooookay, I’ve had enough beer.

He smiles. “It’s okay, Zeke.” he says. “I knew what you meant. Lead the way.”

I head downstairs, turn on the stereo, flop on the couch, and grab an ashtray.

Then I realize I forgot to take out that fucking Offspring CD. Shit shit shit! GUESS what song starts playing?!

Casey grins as he enters the room. “Oh, hey, I love the Offspring! Good song too.”

He starts bobbing his head to the music and singing along softly.

“You know this song?” I ask watching him. “You LIKE this song?”

Shit. I think I’m getting a boner. He doesn’t look all that geeky right now, glasses aside.

“Yeah, totally.” he says, his whole body starting to move to the music now. “What, you think just because I’m shy, I don’t like this? I’m a teenager. I’m hormonal. I have fantasies.”

He suddenly blushes brightly and turns his head away, concentrating on his dancing.

“Like what?” I ask eagerly, my eyes widening. Whoo hoo hoo this is getting good.

Should I tell him about this song? Would that be weird?

He shrugs, still blushing. He starts to say something then stops and shakes his head. “No, I can’t. You’ll think I’m weird.”

I can feel a strange smile spreading across my face. The blushing. I’m digging the blushing. Casey Connor, what is going on inside that innocent yet twisted mind of yours?

“If I spill my guts, will you?” I prompt. I can do the quid pro quo thing. Sure.

“Um, okay.” Casey says. “Sure. Show me yours, I’ll show you mine.”

“Er. . .tell.” he amends.

I smirk appreciatively and lick my lips, looking him over as thrill rushes through me.

“This song.” I say, letting my eyes drift up to meet his. “It makes me think of you. It’s what started the whole melodrama we’re stuck in right now, because I made the mistake of telling Stokely that. . .”

I almost bail out right there. Once the rest is out of my mouth, I can’t take it back. What’s Casey going to do though? He’s in this as deep as I am, if not deeper. He’s probably given the whole thing a lot more thought that I have.

“I told Stokely that I was, you know, jerking off one day, and this song came on.” I proceed awkwardly. “So, uh, so you popped into my head. And. . .well, it was. . .how do I put this? You were apparently pretty good inspiration.”

My expression becomes challenging without me intending it to. It’s just the way I get when I feel threatened.

He stares at me, wide-eyed, for a few moments.

“Really?” he says finally. “I mean. . .me?”

He blinks, licking his lips. “Wow. I mean. . .that’s, that’s flattering. Um. . .mine is, uh, not quite like that. Well, it sort of involves this song. Part of it at least. The vinyl suit bit. But with a whip. Ya know.”

“Don’t tease me, Case.”

The words fly out of my mouth before I can even consider stopping them, and I brace myself on the back of the couch as I start to feel a bit dizzy. A whip. A WHIP! That’s. . .that’s fucking awesome!

Whoa, I’m getting way carried away. Maybe I’m misunderstanding. Which would be really embarrassing, since the dizziness is, in part, due to the blood rushing from my head.

“I’m not!” he insists. “Not intentionally, at least.”

He looks at me a little uncertainly. “You okay, Zeke?”

“That depends.” I respond, locking eyes with him again. “You gonna tell me more?”

He stares at me curiously for a few seconds and then takes a step closer toward the couch and me. “I don’t know. That depends. Do you want to hear more?”

“I definitely want to hear more.” I respond, nodding slowly, intensely. Heeeeere Casey Casey Casey. . .

Wait. Is he teasing me deliberately? Ohhhhh that’d be so hot.

He moves another step closer, his lips curling upward in a slight smile. “Of that particular fantasy or shall I share others with you? Because the whip one is kind of new and I don’t exactly have it all played out in my head yet.”

I laugh a little in spite of myself and roll my eyes a little. Holy shit, he IS teasing me! That. . .that little slut!

Ohhhhohohohohoho sweet!

“Whatever you want.” I insist, sliding over the back of the couch and dropping into a sitting position on the cushions. “You’re in charge. You like things elaborate then?”

“Well, not so much elaborate as I like to have a good idea of what I plan to do.” he says. “Although I am open to the scenario being rewritten by my partner.”

He takes another step toward me and then sits down on the end of the couch opposite me. “There is this one fantasy I have involving my lover tying me down and basically having his way with me.”

He looks up at me, our eyes meeting. “I was thinking maybe something along the lines of putting chocolate syrup to good use, but I’m sure my lover could come up with something even more creative.”

As he speaks, my eyes get increasingly wider, and I try to hold my breath so I’m not panting. He’s so clinical about the whole thing, but it works as far as I’m concerned.

Wait. Wait wait wait. Having HIS way with me? I. . .I don’t even know how to respond to that.

So I just stare stupidly. Because I’m stupid. Nice one, Zeke. Real cool.

He blinks, staring back at me. “Uhhh, should I keep going?” he says uncertainly.

I nod, still trying to figure out what the ‘his’ means, exactly. I could just come out and ask, but that might make things weird.

“I also have this one fantasy,” he says softly, his eyes watching me, “where my lover touches me. Caresses me. With his hands or just something as simple as the blunt end of a pen.”

I blink in spite of myself. The blunt end of a pen?

Casey needs to get away from the books a little.

Okay. A lot.

“And, like, that’s it?” I say stupidly.

Casey blushes. “Uh. . .yeah. I don’t really have a lot of experience in this kind of stuff.”

“You’re repressed, Casey.” I insist, shaking my head. I pause for a moment, then rub my face. “Unfortunately, I’m discovering I am too. . .when I’m not stoned.”

“So let’s be repressed together.” Casey says.

He grins suddenly. “There is one other thing. Sometimes I like to go to school and not wear any underwear. You know, just to feel naughty while still looking innocent.”

I grin in response.

“Now that’s more like it.” I encourage. Okay, maybe this isn’t the completely hopeless cause I’m beginning to fear it is. Okay, yes, Casey’s a guy. But so what? He’s pretty hot. Homophobia’s for close-minded people. I’m not close-minded.

I’m just a giant poser.

I exhale loudly.

“God I’m lame.” I announce, shaking my head.

He frowns, tilting his head curiously as he watches me. “Why?”

“I mean, why do you say that?” he amends.

“Because. . .” I begin, then sigh again. “I guess because I’m believing my own hype, and I’m supposed to be this cool guy who knows what the fuck to do in every situation, but most of the time I’m just winging it. Like right now. I should NOT be this uncomfortable. But I am. It’s just social programming I thought I was beyond. Some fucking rebel I am, huh?”

I look over at him, hoping he’ll say something to make me feel less like a loser.

“It’s okay to be uncomfortable.” he says as he fidgets nervously. “I mean, you don’t HAVE to know what to do all the time. It’s human nature to just wing it sometimes. I do it all the time. Especially now.”

He looks around hesitantly, then his eyes settle back on me. He stares at me intently and then suddenly he’s sliding over next to me on the couch. The next instant he’s kissing me tentatively.

. . .

Casey Connor is kissing me. HE’S kissing ME.

And it’s. . .it’s really not weird. Like some brain stem programming kicks in, and I’m suddenly okay with it. I thought kissing a guy would feel really, really weird. Like rough and weird or something, but it’s not. Maybe because Casey hasn’t started shaving yet? Nah. That’s just mean. I’m not going to be mean when I might be getting some.

. . .

Remember what I said about brain stem programming?

As he pulls away, I nod at him a little. Okay. I’m okay. Really. Damn he’s got gorgeous eyes.

The next thing I know, I’m lunging at him like a pouncing cat, trying to part his lips with my tongue. It’s been a while, what with getting the shit kicked out of me. And damn it, I’m not ashamed to admit that I find another guy sexy.

Okay, yes I am. That admission isn’t leaving this room. Wait, the whole school already thinks I’m gay. Ohhhh my brain hurts.

He moans softly, places one hand on the back of my neck and parts his lips. His free hand grabs a fistful of my shirt and tries to tug me closer, his tongue flicking out to tentatively rub against mine.

I moan in response, pleasantly surprised, and run my hands up his arms and into his hair as I start exploring his mouth. He’s small, almost girl small, which I don’t mind at all. Makes things decidedly less weird. Yeah. He’s just a flat-chested girl. . .with a penis.

Fuck it. I’m kissing a guy and I like it. There. Fuck. What’s the big deal?

Oh yeah. That bible thing. Thou shall not have any fucking fun. Fuck it. I AM a fucking rebel.

He shivers, wriggling around until he’s straddling my lap. His hand releases my shirt and then both his hands slide down my back. I can feel my shirt starting to creep up my back as he grasps the hem and pulls it upward. He doesn’t seem the least bit concerned about any of this.

Maybe I’m not the only rebel around here. Either that or the beer has given him courage.

Whatever. Casey being cool with the whole thing is making me cooler with it, and I help him pull my shirt off, separating us out of necessity. His cheeks are flushed, and his shoulders are rising and falling dramatically from heavy breathing.

I let my shirt fall to the ground, studying him. We really don’t know each other at all. But I’m trusting my gut that Casey Connor is the last person that would go to such elaborate lengths to fuck me over. I mean, HE kissed ME, right? I’m technically off the hook for this whole thing.

. . .

Wow. Smart guy.

He watches me intently, his breath coming out in loud pants. He hesitantly reaches out and brushes his fingertips over my shoulders and down my arms as he licks his lips. Then he cuts his eyes down to his shirt-clad chest.

In what seems like slow motion, he wordlessly draws his shirt over his head and drops it on top of mine on the ground. He stares at me curiously.

“If you want to stop, now would be the time to say so.” he says softly.

I smirk a little, though I’m not entirely sure why.

“I really don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.” I admit. “But stopping isn’t part of it.”

My eyes roam over his shirtless form. Shit, Delilah probably giggled the first time she saw him naked, since he hasn’t started filling out yet. FINE by me. Broad shoulders would just be freaky right now.

. . .

Wait. Does this mean I’m gay AND a pedophile? Fuck.

“But. . .” I say quickly, then fidget a little, trying to figure out how to finesse this. “I wouldn’t mind part of it involving getting to know each other in ways that aren’t physical. I get the feeling you’re pretty complicated, and I don’t want to accidentally fuck something up.”

There’s that protectiveness again. I’m momentarily frightened: this feels a lot like caring.

“What, like play Twenty Questions?” he asks.

He smiles. “I’m impressed, Zeke. I wouldn’t have expected something like that from you. It seems I’m not the only one who’s complicated.”

“No, like talk some.” I insist, rolling my eyes in self-defense. “This whole thing is changing the rules on me, and if I don’t know the rules, how can I break them?”

I shrug then, and get a little more honest, smiling back at him a little, shyly.

“And. . .well, I wouldn’t say complicated,” I add, “but there are sides to me no one sees.”

“Okay.” he says, nodding. “I can talk.”

He shifts and crawls out of my lap, sitting down on the couch beside me, with his body turned so that he’s facing me. “So what other sides to you are there?” he asks as he tilts his head to one side and stares at me.

“You didn’t have to move.” I insist. “The air conditioning makes it kinda cold down here.”

I wince inwardly at the shameless line. Ooookay, reverting to old patterns.

“What did you mean you were impressed?” I ask to change the subject.

He shrugs. “I imagined you were more the type to have sex first, ask questions later.” he says. “Or am I a special case?”

He lets one foot drop to the ground, tucks one leg under the other and scoots closer until his knee is touching my leg.

“Definitely a special case.” I say with a bit of a nod. “For numerous reasons.”

I rest my hand on his knee nonchalantly. “Your turn. Why me?”

He glances down at my hand and is silent for a few moments.

“I’ve watched you since my freshman year.” he says softly. “I don’t know why, but both you and Delilah fascinated me. The alien attack only made me want to get to know you better.”

He looks up at me. “I let myself get sidetracked by Delilah though. I was an idiot to think that would ever last.”

“Hey man, she’s hot.” I insist. “And she’s a pro at sucking guys in. . .literally and figuratively. We all get fucked over once. I mean, there’s a reason she’s named ‘Delilah,’ right? Fuck, why would any parent name their kid that? It’s just setting her up to be a massive slut.”

Casey raises an eyebrow, looking at me with interest. “Who fucked you over?” he asks. “You’re the last person I’d imagine that happening to.”

“It was the eighth grade.” I say, smirking at the memory. “There was this girl who was moving away and wanted to get her kicks in before she started a new school, you know, so there’d be no consequences. No rumors. Well, she used me to do it, but I didn’t know she was moving. It’s no big deal compared to what happened to you, but I don’t bounce back from things like that well.”

“Oh.” he says, frowning. “Well, she was a bitch who didn’t deserve you anyway.”

He glances at me, looking a little awkward now that he’s wearing just jeans. “I’m horribly scrawny.” he mutters.

“Says who?” I counter, smirking a little. “Some bitch who didn’t deserve you anyway?”

My smirk widens. Yeah, he’s scrawny, but horribly so? Nah.

He looks startled for a moment and then slowly grins. “Yeah, something like that.” he responds.

He shivers a little and folds his arms over his chest. “So what do you do when you’re not jerking off to the Offspring and thinking about me?” he asks.

He almost immediately starts blushing, looking like he can’t believe he just said that.

I laugh in spite of myself.

“Get stoned and think about you.” I respond with a grin. Good line, if I say so myself. “Or avoid schoolwork and try NOT to think about you. Are you cold?”

“A little.” he admits, nodding. “So you spend most of your time either thinking about me or trying not to think about me.” He grins.

Then his grin fades a little. “Did you think about me before or after Stokely started talking to you about me?”

“Well, the thing with that song happened before.” I admit. “But I have to admit, she made it worse.”

I wave him toward me casually, not sure how to feel about what I’m about to do.

“Come ‘ere. I’ll warm you up.” I offer.

Okay, he’s smaller, so he’s totally being the girl here. I can’t handle being emasculated.

. . .

Wow that was a fucking stupid thing to think.

He stares at me for half a second and then scoots closer to me, turning his body so that he’s sitting right beside me, but not quite in my lap. “Thanks.” he says as he leans toward me, tentatively laying his head on my shoulder.

I awkwardly arrange my arm around him, surprised at how soft his skin is. It’s funny, ‘cause I expected another guy to feel like leather or alligator skin or something. I also have to admit that Casey’s trademark wide-eyed stare gets to me. Like, “BOING! GOOD MORNING!” gets to me. It’s just vulnerability incarnate.

Whoo! Check out the big words.

Feeling more comfortable, I pull him against me a little tighter, feeling his breath on my skin. He’s holding it more than he should.

“Casey. Relax. Please.” I mutter, rolling my eyes. “I’m not gonna hurt you, okay?”

He exhales softly and goes slightly limp against me. “Sorry.” he mumbles. “I’m just not used to. . .this. It’s nice though.”

“I’m not either, remember?” I point out, slowly closing my other arm around him and letting my hand rest on his cheek. I can sort of understand that to Casey, this is like a zebra making out with a lion, but I’m not really like those other guys.

Obviously not. I’m apparently gay.

Then again, football’s pretty faggy, isn’t it? I mean, those tight white pants. Guys huddled behind another guy’s ass. . .

I snort in spite of myself. I’ve never thought about it that way before. I’m never going to be able to watch football without laughing ever again.

“I think I could get used to it though.” he says softly. “Delilah wasn’t much into cuddling and stuff.”

. . . and then. . .and then all the guys shower together. Holy fuck, football is the gayest sport ever!

Oh shit! Casey’s talking!

“What? Sorry? I was checking out your ass.” I say quickly. It’s my standard recovery line.

Whoops. But it’s way more offensive saying it to a guy, isn’t it? I’ll have to remember that.

He laughs. “Isn’t that kind of hard when I’m sitting on it?” he says. “What were you thinking about?”

“Yeah, well, I can still see your hip.” I insist, exaggerating craning my neck to look him over. “Mmmm, very nice. That’s a sexy hip.”

I’m not going to get into a football discussion with Casey. He isn’t anywhere near stupid enough to be into football. Football’s a butthead sport that involves beer hats and fat sweaty guys in bright-colored body paint.

“Thanks,” he says, chuckling, “I think. Can’t say I’ve ever been complimented on my hip.”

He sighs and snuggles closer, finally completely relaxing against me.

Then he almost immediately tries to jerk back upward. “Oh shit! What time is it?”

“What?!” I exclaim, jumping myself. “Shit Case, don’t do that! Why? What does it matter!?”

He blushes. “Oh, um, I have a curfew.” he mumbles. “Nine o’clock on school nights.”

“Oh.” I say stupidly. What else is there to say? “Uh, okay, uh, I guess I’ll. . .”

Aw fuck. Blue balls.

“I guess I’ll run you home then.” I say helplessly.

“I’m sorry.” he mumbles, sounding crestfallen.

“It’s midnight on weekends.” he adds hopefully.

“What about when you stay over at a friend’s house?” I ask, rubbing the back of my head. I exhale loudly. No means no. I know this drill. But fuck.

“It’s okay. Really.” I say perfunctorily. “But you know what I’ll be doing tonight.”

Casey glances at me curiously. “I haven’t stayed over at a friend’s house since elementary school.” he says. “Not because my parents say no, but because I didn’t really have any friends that wanted me to stay over.”

He looks thoughtful. “We could try it one night.” he says.

“How about this weekend?” I say, then shrug. “I get kind of depressed when I sleep with someone and they have to get up and leave.”

I probably shouldn’t have said that, should I? Now he’s probably going to feel even worse for leaving. But we didn’t really sleep together, we just kissed and cuddled!

Argh! This is why I’m never honest!

“Anyway, talk to your parents.” I say, admittedly frustrated. Parents! I hate parents! I’m not used to parents! This is why I was fucking a teacher! So I didn’t have to deal with parents!

I close my eyes and remind myself that Casey’s two years younger than me, and it’s a big two years, and he can’t help it. And I’m not going to be an asshole about this. . .any more than I already have been.

“Okay.” he says, nodding. “Heeey, why don’t you come to dinner tomorrow night? That way my parents can meet you and can see that you’re not a psycho or anything.”

“Parents. . .don’t like me, Case.” I insist, my eyes opening and widening. Is he insane?!

“Oh.” he says, his face falling. “Yeah, you have a point. Okay, well, I’ll think of something.”

“Unless. . .” I say quickly, wincing. Does he have to give me the sad puppy face? He’s really good at it. “Unless. . .well, I suppose I could clean up a little. Just for your parents, I mean. It’d be total bullshit, but who ever tells their parents the truth about anything, right?”

“Awesome.” he says, his face brightening. “So. . .tomorrow? Six o’clock?”

“Yeah.” I say, nodding weakly. “You can give me some pointers in class tomorrow, since I’m guessing you’re going to start forcing me to go to class.”

Why the fuck am I doing this? This is going to be so weird.

“Who, me?” he says, snorting. “Like I could force you to do anything you didn’t want to.”

“Casey, you just did.” I point out dryly. “You just gave me that look and I totally reversed myself.”

He blinks, looking startled. Then he blushes. “Oh. I guess I did. Um. . .well, okay. I’m not going to force you to go to class though.”

I roll my eyes affectionately.

“Yes you are.” I insist. “Because it’s for my own good, and because I’m afraid of feeling stupid around you, so I’m going to go even if you don’t say a word. Now if we have to get you home, let’s get moving before I change my mind and decide to keep you here against your will.”

He grins. “It wouldn’t be against my will if I didn’t really want to leave, now would it?”

But he reluctantly gets up off the couch and grabs his shirt. “So which one of us do you think Stokely will attack first tomorrow?” he asks as he pulls his shirt over his head.

“You. Cause I’ll probably be late.” I say with a grin. I watch him pull his shirt on, resisting the urge to say ‘if you don’t want to leave, don’t.’ I don’t want him to get in trouble with his parents for selfish reasons that I don’t quite understand yet.

“You’re always late.” he says, grinning. “I’ll try to leave her in suspense in what happened tonight.”

“Or tell her you’re walking funny, and refuse to say anything more.” I say with a wicked grin as I get to my feet. I grab an old leather jacket I haven’t worn in a while and pull it on without putting my shirt back on. Am I being a tease? Hell yeah.

I happen to catch my reflection in a mirror a moment later though. WHOA that looks fucking GAY!

Casey seems to like it though, because he’s just staring at me. Well, at my chest, actually.

“Yeah, that sounds good too.” he says. He bites his lip.

I weigh my options for a moment, then decide to keep the jacket. I wave my hand in front of Casey’s face.

“Case? You okay?” I ask nonchalantly, even as a thrill runs through me. I haven’t been this excited about another person in a really long time. It’s like I can do no wrong around the little guy.

Fuck, wouldn’t that be nice?

He blinks, snapping out of his little trance or whatever. “Huh? What?”

“Oh yeah, I’m fine.” he says, nodding. “We should probably go though, before I end up getting in a lot of trouble with my parents because I don’t come home tonight.”

“Right.” I say with a nod, then head upstairs.

Pulling up outside of Casey’s house fifteen minutes later is predictably awkward. My gut instinct is to kiss him, but if his parents see, he’ll be screwed and I won’t be, and that’s bad.

“See you tomorrow, stud?” I say weakly, grinning in spite of myself. Okay, I’m getting a little better at this, even though my stomach’s tightened a little. Wow, I’m a homophobe AND a homo. That’s trippy.

He grins and nods. “Yeah, definitely. Thanks for the ride.”

He glances toward his house, then leans over, gives me a quick kiss and then almost falls out of the car getting out.

I laugh in spite of myself and shake my head, then start to gun the engine before I remember that I’m trying to make a good impression. I smile nervously, then wave at him.

“You okay?” I call to him. Sigh. He’s so cute.

. . .

What the fuck is wrong with me? I don’t think things like that.

He nods as he waves back. “Yeah, I’m fine.” he calls. “See you tomorrow, Zeke.”

He waves again and then heads up the drive to his house.

“See ya, Case.” I say. I wait for him to get inside, then I drive off at a respectable pace.