Post by SIMON CHAPMAN on Jan 29, 2012 23:37:01 GMT
Simon didn’t know when he’d started liking boys. He figured he’d always found them attractive. Gender really wasn’t as much of an issue for him growing up. His parents were swingers, so they brought over “guests” all the time. Sometimes his dad had over men, and sometimes his mom had over women. And Simon never really knew exactly what went on behind closed doors, but he was pretty sure it was something intimate. So, he really started to associate intimacy very loosely with anyone he found attractive.
In the third grade, he got in trouble for kissing a girl on the lips right in front of his teacher. It wouldn’t have been so bad if he hadn’t tried to add tongue, like he saw his parents do sometimes… Then in the fifth grade he got on the wrong side of a group of old guy friends when he tried to hold hands with one of them. They obviously weren’t as comfortable with intimacy as Simon was. And they showed it in how angrily they ganged up on him. The hand that he’d tried to hold had immediately come up, balled into a fist against the side of his head, and the other boys didn’t take long to join in.
He went home quite out of sorts that day, rattled with questions about why those boys had been so angry. When he’d gotten home, his father was busy with one of his many drug deals, getting debts sorted, so Simon’s questions had to wait.
Eventually, he gave up on asking his parents about any of this. They never really had time for it, always off at casinos and clubs while Simon sat home sifting through their porn stash, trying to figure out what the hell kind of movie Deep Throat Donna would be.
He gained a reputation very quickly at school, as the kid to avoid. In Jr. High the athletes especially found reason to torment him. They never stole his lunch money, or tripped him in the halls. They did, however, have plenty of names to call him whenever they caught him in the halls. Simon didn’t know what most of the words meant. Homo, queer, fag? They all sounded foreign to him. Around 7th grade, the names started to dig into his skull, and he just had to know what they were saying- more importantly why.
“Howi?” Simon called into his father’s study, having learned that just walking right in was never a good idea.
“Yeh.” Came the short beckoning, letting him know he could come in. Coming up to his father who sat behind his desk with a cigarette perched between his lips and a line of coke at the ready in front of him, he paused with the question on the tip of his tongue. Eyes settling impatiently on Simon he nodded to him, “Go on, then.” He grunted.
“Uhm. I was just wondering. These kids at school-.”
“Simon, I told you if they’re giving you shit you need to man up and push back.” Howi muttered impatiently tapping his cigarette over the ash tray.
“No, that’s not it… I just wanted to know… what is a queer?” He asked almost reluctantly, feeling like it was a bad idea to come here in the first place. His father’s brow raised measurably before he let out a gruff laugh.
“Is that what they’re calling you?” He continued to snicker, leaning down now to snort half a line and rub his nose as he looked back up to Simon.
“Yeah…” He nodded, looking down at his shoes, “What is it?” He asked again, not sure now that he really wanted to know.
“Means you’d rather get off to the Backstreet Boys than to Britney Spears.” Howi replied still completely amused, finishing the line.
“Get off?” Simon asked slowly.
“Christ, you’re fucking useless sometimes.” His father grumbled back, pulling a Playboy up in front of his face. “Is this round of twenty questions finished, or what?” Came the dull voice from behind the magazine.
“Yeah, that’s all.” Simon sighed slightly, turning and heading off to his room to search this whole queer thing for himself… and maybe find out what the hell ‘getting off’ was too.
A few months after discovering exactly what everyone thought he was, he started to notice a lot of other things too, mainly that girls paid a lot more attention to him all of a sudden. Why exactly he didn’t understand. Everyone thought he was gay, right? So, then why were these chicks just starting to grow an interest in him?
One particular girl, Natalie Parker started sitting by him at lunch, asking him if he’d walk her to class. And then one day she invited him to a party.
“I mean, like, you totally don’t have to come, if you’re like not interested at all or whatever. But I think it’d be really awesome if you dropped by.” She’d nodded slowly, crossing her arms under her chest to push her boobs out, batting lashes lightly.
Simon’s eyes were anywhere but on her face.
“Oh, uhm, yeah. Sure, I’ll come.” He agreed, smiling back up at her finally, reveling in the way she tossed her hair happily,
“Super! See you there, Simon!” She’d chirped before sauntering off in the opposite direction.
Simon had never been to a party before. He’d seen the movie reenactments of them…and the porn reenactments, but he didn’t know if any of the three really connected. He wanted to be prepared, though. He stole a condom from his father’s sock-drawer stash, and had also taken the old letterman jacket his dad had that didn’t quite fit the man anymore.
It looked a bit big on him, but Simon figured he still looked pretty great. He’d been one of the lucky teen guys to have good skin and teeth. It was the lack of stubble compared to the other eighth grade guys that he was worried would bring down his ‘cool’. Going into his mom’s make-up kit and finding her brown eye-liner, he held up a picture of some model out of GQ and tried to mimic, as best he could, the five o’ clock shadow that the brawny older man had. After several failed attempts he gave up, and resigned himself to being less ‘mature’ looking than the other Jr. High guys at the party.
His parents were already out by the time he left to take the city bus up to the entrance of Natalie’s neighborhood. He could definitely tell which way the party was, he was a street down when the music started to be faintly heard. He followed the sound and finally came up to a house spilling out under-aged kids with beer cans and what, at first, looked like cigarettes.
His stomach had twisted up inside of him, and something inside Simon told him that this was a bad idea. Every fiber in his body made him want to turn around, but he didn’t, especially when, from just inside the door he saw Natalie waving at him.
“Simon! Hey!” She’d smiled brilliantly, and all his former doubt had melted away. Slipping through the packs of people he walked over to her, raising a hand awkwardly in a greeting,
“Hey, Natalie.” He smiled back, and she grabbed him by the wrist saying over the music,
“Come on! Let’s go somewhere else.” She led him through the crowds and up the stairs down a hall, until they reached a door with a sign that read ‘No Losers Past This Point’.
He thought it must be her room.
Opening up the door, she ushered him inside, plopping down on her bed and patting the spot next to her for him to sit. Simon walked over hesitantly, sitting down beside her, eyes exploring the room if just so he didn’t have to look at her, and that bit of cleavage she’d managed to stuff herself into having.
“So, I think you’re really cool Simon.” Natalie told him, turning to face him more, eyes trained steadily on his.
“You…do?” He asked blankly, unsure of why Natalie Parker, the Natalie Parker on the cheer squad who had apparently French kissed like four boys, would think he was cool.
“Yeah, totally.” She grinned, putting a hand on his shoulder. Simon eyed the hand silently, before gulping down at what his father had once called a “morning glory”. But it wasn’t morning, so this didn’t really seem to fit that title. Natalie hadn’t noticed, and had continued to talk chipperly, “You’re much more mature than all those dumb guys on the football team, especially Brad.” She spat.
“Brad? But I thought Brad was your boyfriend…” Simon spoke, confused. He definitely didn’t like Brad either. The guy had been tormenting him since the 6th grade. But he’d always known Natalie and Brad as the school’s “item”, so hearing her say his name with such disgust was quite a surprise, if not also a little refreshing.
“Ex-boyfriend.” She sighed out, going straight into the story for Simon as if he’d asked her to tell-all. “-and THEN Stephanie tells Drew that Brad needs to totally stop being a jerk because I’m over here like ‘UGH, BRAD, splashing me with water is so not funny when I’m wearing a new jacket’.” She was saying. Simon’s eyes were back to where they’d been earlier that day. As Natalie talked she moved her hands, which caused her boobs to jiggle around in her shirt. Simon knew he should tear his eyes away, but he couldn’t. It was mesmerizing. “-and he should’ve just told me if he didn’t want to go see it instead of complaining the whole way through. You know, Simon?” When she said his name, he finally snapped back to attention.
“Hu- oh, yeah. He really should’ve. Would’ve made everything much easier.” He responded quickly, having no idea what he was talking about, relieved by the large grin that spread back onto her lips.
“You’re such a good listener Simon.” She sighed out, chest heaving up as she did so. Simon caught his eyes before they slid back down, and he only smiled back up at her. In the next moment, Natalie had leaned in placing her hand almost awkwardly on the side of his face, pushing her lips sloppily up against his, pulling back not five seconds later a hand up to her mouth. “Ohmigosh.” She gasped, as if horrified by what she’d done. “I’m so sorry, Simon!” She started to apologize, further confusing Simon, “I know you’re like totally gay and like guys and all. I didn’t mean to make you feel so weird. It’s just I haven’t had a guy listen to me in like ever, and you just made me feel so nice.” She went on, and Simon’s eyes widened considerably.
“Gay? B-but, I’m not gay…” Simon sputtered out, face going red. Natalie blinked up at him after a second.
“You aren’t? But everyone’s always calling you a que-.” She stopped herself, feeling immediately guilty to have thought the word.
“Yeah. Well. I’m not.” Simon muttered, staring down at his hands in his lap now. This was just great. Natalie Parker, the hottest girl in his grade, thought he was a queer. Just great.
“I’m sorry, Simon…I didn’t know.” She bit into her lip, looking at him for a long second. “So, then…it’s okay if I kiss you again?”
Simon’s eyes returned to hers at the question, eyes widening again, this time because she actually still wanted to kiss him. “Y-yeah, sure.” He replied back clearing his throat when his voice cracked slightly. Leaning in even as she did, he started to kiss back, trying to remember what he’d seen that one woman doing in that one adult film his parents had left in the VHS one time.
Apparently he’d done it right because he felt her pressing in more, moaning at the way he’d ran his teeth over her bottom lip. Before long, Natalie had helped Simon shed his dad’s old letterman jacket and the button-up underneath it, and she’d held up her arms to help him in getting her shirt over her head as well.
Simon had never been here before. He’d only ever made out with one other girl and that was behind the gym in the middle of class while everyone else had been running the mile. It had also been a really plucky, brace-faced girl. Nothing like Natalie Parker. The only thing that made him aware of what he was doing were those porn films he’d seen, and he knew, even as Natalie’s hands were trailing down to the zipper of his pants, that this was the part where the condom came in handy.
“Uhm.” He said to halt her, she looked up from where her eyes had been following the movements of her hand on his zipper, eyes searching because obviously she’d never done this before either. “I, uhm. If we’re going to…y’know. I mean…we should be protected right?” Simon tried to explain awkwardly, reaching into his pocket to pull out the rubber in elaboration.
“Oh. Right. Uhm, yeah. Maybe you should- yeah.” She nodded, and Simon’s heart picked up a little because he realized this was really about to happen. It wasn’t like imagining the busty teacher in those adult films, he actually had to prepare himself for this.
It took him five minutes in the bathroom to pull himself together and figure out how this whole condom thing worked, but he finally got himself ready and came back out, boxers pulled back on because he would’ve felt awkward and self-conscious other wise. Natalie had stripped down to her own underwear and was sitting cross-legged in the middle of her bed, biting her thumb nervously watching as he came over, reaching up with her hands to pull him down on top of her.
It was all very sloppy and breathy for a while, but when Simon got the hang of the motion he started to feel something reverberate between them, inside him, through him. Natalie obviously felt it as well because she arched back groaning out Simon’s name in a way that only made him want to get there already. Wherever there was…
When he did finally reach that point, his whole body shook, and he had to catch himself so he didn’t fall on top of Natalie who seemed about ready to pass out herself. Able to slip off of her and roll onto his back on the other side of the bed, he laid back exhausted, bringing a slightly shaky hand up to wipe sweat from his forehead. This was much harder than running the mile in under ten minutes. But also much better…
He turned his head towards Natalie to see if she was thinking the same thing when he realized she’d sat up, wide-eyed and staring across her room. Simon turned his head, slowly, confused to where the door had been thrown open and a boy not three years older than them was glaring back at Simon.
“Who the hell are you!?” The boy grunted, and Simon sat back against the bed, not sure what he was supposed to do because his boxers were on the other side of Natalie’s bed.
“Simon,” She hissed, throwing the boxers at his still form. Simon sprang into motion again, slipping them quickly under the sheets and sliding them back on, getting out of the bed, and grabbing up his jeans, pulling them on clumsily as the boy at the door was narrowing his eyes slowly and dangerously. Once Simon had been able to get his shirt messily on over his head the boy had grabbed him by the collar.
“Who do you think you are fucking around with my sister?” The boy growled pulling Simon out of the room, back down the stairs and through the crowds who were now beginning to focus their attention on Simon being dragged out of the house. Pushing him onto the sidewalk and throwing his shoes square at his head, the boy turned to walk away from him, pausing at the door to yell, “IF I EVER CATCH YOU AROUND HERE AGAIN, I’LL GET MY DAD’S SHOT-GUN AND PUT A BULLET THROUGH YOUR HEAD!” And with that reassuring knowledge Simon ran back to the bus stop, only stopping to pant when he’d gotten there. Looking at the watch he hadn’t bothered to take off the whole time, he saw he’d missed the last bus and cursed under his breath, starting off across the street to make the walk home.
His parents still weren’t back when he got home, so he went up and took a long, cold shower, trying to process everything that had happened that night. He didn’t feel any different, like he supposed people should feel after having sex. He guessed it was because he’d already seen it play out so many times in the films his parents left around that it wasn’t anything new. He actually felt a bit numb. Like there was some missing part to what had just occurred. Like it should’ve happened differently. With a girl who hadn’t originally thought he was “a queer”. Or maybe with a boy…? He really didn’t know at this point.
He went to bed just to toss and turn over it. And the next day he attempted to fake sick, just to realize his parents didn’t give a fuck if he skipped school. So, he spent the day at the mall, walking around trying to clear his head some more.
He obviously wasn’t the only one who’d decided to skip school that day because someone grabbed him by the back of the shirt and hauled him over to a more secluded part of the mall.
“Have fun fucking my girlfriend?” Came a familiar voice in Simon’s ear, and he immediately tensed up nervously, eyes going up to Brad’s face.
“Sh-she said you were her ex.” Simon stammered out timidly, squirming against the wall he’d been pushed back into, trying to pry Brad’s bigger fist from off his shirt.
“Did she now?” He sneered, boring holes into Simon’s head with his glare. “What was she doing sleeping with a queer like you anyway?” He suddenly laughed harshly, holding tighter to Simon’s shirt when he squirmed more. Simon clenched his jaw, the word stinging him the way it usually didn’t,
“I’m not queer! I like girls!” Simon grunted back at him, shoving Brad away this time. Brad stumbled back a bit in surprise, lips curling up cruelly and pushing Simon harder back against the wall. Simon cringed at the way his back slammed into the tile walls. Coughing at the way it had knocked the breath out of him, he didn’t see Brad advancing forward, until suddenly the taller boy was kissing him.
What the fuck.
Simon wanted to throw up. He wanted to slam his fist into Brad’s face if only he didn’t think the boy’s hard skull would crack his hand. He was mostly angry at the way he actually liked it. He didn’t like Brad. Fuck no. But he liked…the way it felt to be kissed by a boy. And fuck, that kind of made him queer.
But- but he still liked girls? How did that work? His mind was in such a twist over this he didn’t have the sense to jerk away from Brad until the boy was trying to slide his hand under his shirt. Finally gaining back his senses he turned his face away throwing his hands out to push Brad away.
Brad had only grabbed his hands, pressing them into his own chest, sneering into Simon’s face again,
“You seem pretty queer right now, don’t you?” He hissed into Simon’s ear, and finally let go of his hands. Leaving Simon standing against the wall, back still aching, lips tingling slightly, stomach churning in disgust and confusion.
None of this made sense. He wasn’t sure if it was possible to be interested in both genders. But he was sure he was. He was so sure. Because, even though he wasn’t allowed near Natalie Parker anymore, he knew he still got a stir in a lower region at the thought of her. And yet, the same feeling stirred inside him whenever he was in the boy’s locker rooms changing for gym class and he caught a little too much of some other guy getting dressed.
The confusion followed him through the rest of Jr. High, until, come high school, he moved school systems. Started over.. And no one knew his name suddenly. No one associated Simon Chapman with “that queer boy”. And high school seemed to open his eyes a little. To the possibilities. To what he could do if he could just command respect from his peers. How he’d do that, he didn’t know. He wasn’t athletic, he wasn’t particularly talented at anything.
And yet…he was rich. And one day, when he decided to throw a party, people he didn’t even realize knew who he was came for it. A few parties later and he felt as if people really could care less if he was slightly queer or not. If he fucked girls or boys, or in-betweens. He started to steal from his parents drug stash, dug into their liquor cabinet.
And the world changed for him. High as a kite on every kind of substance imaginable, the words couldn’t affect him. Slowly it started to hurt him less while sober too. And he became numb all the time. The good kind. The high kind.
In the third grade, he got in trouble for kissing a girl on the lips right in front of his teacher. It wouldn’t have been so bad if he hadn’t tried to add tongue, like he saw his parents do sometimes… Then in the fifth grade he got on the wrong side of a group of old guy friends when he tried to hold hands with one of them. They obviously weren’t as comfortable with intimacy as Simon was. And they showed it in how angrily they ganged up on him. The hand that he’d tried to hold had immediately come up, balled into a fist against the side of his head, and the other boys didn’t take long to join in.
He went home quite out of sorts that day, rattled with questions about why those boys had been so angry. When he’d gotten home, his father was busy with one of his many drug deals, getting debts sorted, so Simon’s questions had to wait.
Eventually, he gave up on asking his parents about any of this. They never really had time for it, always off at casinos and clubs while Simon sat home sifting through their porn stash, trying to figure out what the hell kind of movie Deep Throat Donna would be.
He gained a reputation very quickly at school, as the kid to avoid. In Jr. High the athletes especially found reason to torment him. They never stole his lunch money, or tripped him in the halls. They did, however, have plenty of names to call him whenever they caught him in the halls. Simon didn’t know what most of the words meant. Homo, queer, fag? They all sounded foreign to him. Around 7th grade, the names started to dig into his skull, and he just had to know what they were saying- more importantly why.
“Howi?” Simon called into his father’s study, having learned that just walking right in was never a good idea.
“Yeh.” Came the short beckoning, letting him know he could come in. Coming up to his father who sat behind his desk with a cigarette perched between his lips and a line of coke at the ready in front of him, he paused with the question on the tip of his tongue. Eyes settling impatiently on Simon he nodded to him, “Go on, then.” He grunted.
“Uhm. I was just wondering. These kids at school-.”
“Simon, I told you if they’re giving you shit you need to man up and push back.” Howi muttered impatiently tapping his cigarette over the ash tray.
“No, that’s not it… I just wanted to know… what is a queer?” He asked almost reluctantly, feeling like it was a bad idea to come here in the first place. His father’s brow raised measurably before he let out a gruff laugh.
“Is that what they’re calling you?” He continued to snicker, leaning down now to snort half a line and rub his nose as he looked back up to Simon.
“Yeah…” He nodded, looking down at his shoes, “What is it?” He asked again, not sure now that he really wanted to know.
“Means you’d rather get off to the Backstreet Boys than to Britney Spears.” Howi replied still completely amused, finishing the line.
“Get off?” Simon asked slowly.
“Christ, you’re fucking useless sometimes.” His father grumbled back, pulling a Playboy up in front of his face. “Is this round of twenty questions finished, or what?” Came the dull voice from behind the magazine.
“Yeah, that’s all.” Simon sighed slightly, turning and heading off to his room to search this whole queer thing for himself… and maybe find out what the hell ‘getting off’ was too.
A few months after discovering exactly what everyone thought he was, he started to notice a lot of other things too, mainly that girls paid a lot more attention to him all of a sudden. Why exactly he didn’t understand. Everyone thought he was gay, right? So, then why were these chicks just starting to grow an interest in him?
One particular girl, Natalie Parker started sitting by him at lunch, asking him if he’d walk her to class. And then one day she invited him to a party.
“I mean, like, you totally don’t have to come, if you’re like not interested at all or whatever. But I think it’d be really awesome if you dropped by.” She’d nodded slowly, crossing her arms under her chest to push her boobs out, batting lashes lightly.
Simon’s eyes were anywhere but on her face.
“Oh, uhm, yeah. Sure, I’ll come.” He agreed, smiling back up at her finally, reveling in the way she tossed her hair happily,
“Super! See you there, Simon!” She’d chirped before sauntering off in the opposite direction.
Simon had never been to a party before. He’d seen the movie reenactments of them…and the porn reenactments, but he didn’t know if any of the three really connected. He wanted to be prepared, though. He stole a condom from his father’s sock-drawer stash, and had also taken the old letterman jacket his dad had that didn’t quite fit the man anymore.
It looked a bit big on him, but Simon figured he still looked pretty great. He’d been one of the lucky teen guys to have good skin and teeth. It was the lack of stubble compared to the other eighth grade guys that he was worried would bring down his ‘cool’. Going into his mom’s make-up kit and finding her brown eye-liner, he held up a picture of some model out of GQ and tried to mimic, as best he could, the five o’ clock shadow that the brawny older man had. After several failed attempts he gave up, and resigned himself to being less ‘mature’ looking than the other Jr. High guys at the party.
His parents were already out by the time he left to take the city bus up to the entrance of Natalie’s neighborhood. He could definitely tell which way the party was, he was a street down when the music started to be faintly heard. He followed the sound and finally came up to a house spilling out under-aged kids with beer cans and what, at first, looked like cigarettes.
His stomach had twisted up inside of him, and something inside Simon told him that this was a bad idea. Every fiber in his body made him want to turn around, but he didn’t, especially when, from just inside the door he saw Natalie waving at him.
“Simon! Hey!” She’d smiled brilliantly, and all his former doubt had melted away. Slipping through the packs of people he walked over to her, raising a hand awkwardly in a greeting,
“Hey, Natalie.” He smiled back, and she grabbed him by the wrist saying over the music,
“Come on! Let’s go somewhere else.” She led him through the crowds and up the stairs down a hall, until they reached a door with a sign that read ‘No Losers Past This Point’.
He thought it must be her room.
Opening up the door, she ushered him inside, plopping down on her bed and patting the spot next to her for him to sit. Simon walked over hesitantly, sitting down beside her, eyes exploring the room if just so he didn’t have to look at her, and that bit of cleavage she’d managed to stuff herself into having.
“So, I think you’re really cool Simon.” Natalie told him, turning to face him more, eyes trained steadily on his.
“You…do?” He asked blankly, unsure of why Natalie Parker, the Natalie Parker on the cheer squad who had apparently French kissed like four boys, would think he was cool.
“Yeah, totally.” She grinned, putting a hand on his shoulder. Simon eyed the hand silently, before gulping down at what his father had once called a “morning glory”. But it wasn’t morning, so this didn’t really seem to fit that title. Natalie hadn’t noticed, and had continued to talk chipperly, “You’re much more mature than all those dumb guys on the football team, especially Brad.” She spat.
“Brad? But I thought Brad was your boyfriend…” Simon spoke, confused. He definitely didn’t like Brad either. The guy had been tormenting him since the 6th grade. But he’d always known Natalie and Brad as the school’s “item”, so hearing her say his name with such disgust was quite a surprise, if not also a little refreshing.
“Ex-boyfriend.” She sighed out, going straight into the story for Simon as if he’d asked her to tell-all. “-and THEN Stephanie tells Drew that Brad needs to totally stop being a jerk because I’m over here like ‘UGH, BRAD, splashing me with water is so not funny when I’m wearing a new jacket’.” She was saying. Simon’s eyes were back to where they’d been earlier that day. As Natalie talked she moved her hands, which caused her boobs to jiggle around in her shirt. Simon knew he should tear his eyes away, but he couldn’t. It was mesmerizing. “-and he should’ve just told me if he didn’t want to go see it instead of complaining the whole way through. You know, Simon?” When she said his name, he finally snapped back to attention.
“Hu- oh, yeah. He really should’ve. Would’ve made everything much easier.” He responded quickly, having no idea what he was talking about, relieved by the large grin that spread back onto her lips.
“You’re such a good listener Simon.” She sighed out, chest heaving up as she did so. Simon caught his eyes before they slid back down, and he only smiled back up at her. In the next moment, Natalie had leaned in placing her hand almost awkwardly on the side of his face, pushing her lips sloppily up against his, pulling back not five seconds later a hand up to her mouth. “Ohmigosh.” She gasped, as if horrified by what she’d done. “I’m so sorry, Simon!” She started to apologize, further confusing Simon, “I know you’re like totally gay and like guys and all. I didn’t mean to make you feel so weird. It’s just I haven’t had a guy listen to me in like ever, and you just made me feel so nice.” She went on, and Simon’s eyes widened considerably.
“Gay? B-but, I’m not gay…” Simon sputtered out, face going red. Natalie blinked up at him after a second.
“You aren’t? But everyone’s always calling you a que-.” She stopped herself, feeling immediately guilty to have thought the word.
“Yeah. Well. I’m not.” Simon muttered, staring down at his hands in his lap now. This was just great. Natalie Parker, the hottest girl in his grade, thought he was a queer. Just great.
“I’m sorry, Simon…I didn’t know.” She bit into her lip, looking at him for a long second. “So, then…it’s okay if I kiss you again?”
Simon’s eyes returned to hers at the question, eyes widening again, this time because she actually still wanted to kiss him. “Y-yeah, sure.” He replied back clearing his throat when his voice cracked slightly. Leaning in even as she did, he started to kiss back, trying to remember what he’d seen that one woman doing in that one adult film his parents had left in the VHS one time.
Apparently he’d done it right because he felt her pressing in more, moaning at the way he’d ran his teeth over her bottom lip. Before long, Natalie had helped Simon shed his dad’s old letterman jacket and the button-up underneath it, and she’d held up her arms to help him in getting her shirt over her head as well.
Simon had never been here before. He’d only ever made out with one other girl and that was behind the gym in the middle of class while everyone else had been running the mile. It had also been a really plucky, brace-faced girl. Nothing like Natalie Parker. The only thing that made him aware of what he was doing were those porn films he’d seen, and he knew, even as Natalie’s hands were trailing down to the zipper of his pants, that this was the part where the condom came in handy.
“Uhm.” He said to halt her, she looked up from where her eyes had been following the movements of her hand on his zipper, eyes searching because obviously she’d never done this before either. “I, uhm. If we’re going to…y’know. I mean…we should be protected right?” Simon tried to explain awkwardly, reaching into his pocket to pull out the rubber in elaboration.
“Oh. Right. Uhm, yeah. Maybe you should- yeah.” She nodded, and Simon’s heart picked up a little because he realized this was really about to happen. It wasn’t like imagining the busty teacher in those adult films, he actually had to prepare himself for this.
It took him five minutes in the bathroom to pull himself together and figure out how this whole condom thing worked, but he finally got himself ready and came back out, boxers pulled back on because he would’ve felt awkward and self-conscious other wise. Natalie had stripped down to her own underwear and was sitting cross-legged in the middle of her bed, biting her thumb nervously watching as he came over, reaching up with her hands to pull him down on top of her.
It was all very sloppy and breathy for a while, but when Simon got the hang of the motion he started to feel something reverberate between them, inside him, through him. Natalie obviously felt it as well because she arched back groaning out Simon’s name in a way that only made him want to get there already. Wherever there was…
When he did finally reach that point, his whole body shook, and he had to catch himself so he didn’t fall on top of Natalie who seemed about ready to pass out herself. Able to slip off of her and roll onto his back on the other side of the bed, he laid back exhausted, bringing a slightly shaky hand up to wipe sweat from his forehead. This was much harder than running the mile in under ten minutes. But also much better…
He turned his head towards Natalie to see if she was thinking the same thing when he realized she’d sat up, wide-eyed and staring across her room. Simon turned his head, slowly, confused to where the door had been thrown open and a boy not three years older than them was glaring back at Simon.
“Who the hell are you!?” The boy grunted, and Simon sat back against the bed, not sure what he was supposed to do because his boxers were on the other side of Natalie’s bed.
“Simon,” She hissed, throwing the boxers at his still form. Simon sprang into motion again, slipping them quickly under the sheets and sliding them back on, getting out of the bed, and grabbing up his jeans, pulling them on clumsily as the boy at the door was narrowing his eyes slowly and dangerously. Once Simon had been able to get his shirt messily on over his head the boy had grabbed him by the collar.
“Who do you think you are fucking around with my sister?” The boy growled pulling Simon out of the room, back down the stairs and through the crowds who were now beginning to focus their attention on Simon being dragged out of the house. Pushing him onto the sidewalk and throwing his shoes square at his head, the boy turned to walk away from him, pausing at the door to yell, “IF I EVER CATCH YOU AROUND HERE AGAIN, I’LL GET MY DAD’S SHOT-GUN AND PUT A BULLET THROUGH YOUR HEAD!” And with that reassuring knowledge Simon ran back to the bus stop, only stopping to pant when he’d gotten there. Looking at the watch he hadn’t bothered to take off the whole time, he saw he’d missed the last bus and cursed under his breath, starting off across the street to make the walk home.
His parents still weren’t back when he got home, so he went up and took a long, cold shower, trying to process everything that had happened that night. He didn’t feel any different, like he supposed people should feel after having sex. He guessed it was because he’d already seen it play out so many times in the films his parents left around that it wasn’t anything new. He actually felt a bit numb. Like there was some missing part to what had just occurred. Like it should’ve happened differently. With a girl who hadn’t originally thought he was “a queer”. Or maybe with a boy…? He really didn’t know at this point.
He went to bed just to toss and turn over it. And the next day he attempted to fake sick, just to realize his parents didn’t give a fuck if he skipped school. So, he spent the day at the mall, walking around trying to clear his head some more.
He obviously wasn’t the only one who’d decided to skip school that day because someone grabbed him by the back of the shirt and hauled him over to a more secluded part of the mall.
“Have fun fucking my girlfriend?” Came a familiar voice in Simon’s ear, and he immediately tensed up nervously, eyes going up to Brad’s face.
“Sh-she said you were her ex.” Simon stammered out timidly, squirming against the wall he’d been pushed back into, trying to pry Brad’s bigger fist from off his shirt.
“Did she now?” He sneered, boring holes into Simon’s head with his glare. “What was she doing sleeping with a queer like you anyway?” He suddenly laughed harshly, holding tighter to Simon’s shirt when he squirmed more. Simon clenched his jaw, the word stinging him the way it usually didn’t,
“I’m not queer! I like girls!” Simon grunted back at him, shoving Brad away this time. Brad stumbled back a bit in surprise, lips curling up cruelly and pushing Simon harder back against the wall. Simon cringed at the way his back slammed into the tile walls. Coughing at the way it had knocked the breath out of him, he didn’t see Brad advancing forward, until suddenly the taller boy was kissing him.
What the fuck.
Simon wanted to throw up. He wanted to slam his fist into Brad’s face if only he didn’t think the boy’s hard skull would crack his hand. He was mostly angry at the way he actually liked it. He didn’t like Brad. Fuck no. But he liked…the way it felt to be kissed by a boy. And fuck, that kind of made him queer.
But- but he still liked girls? How did that work? His mind was in such a twist over this he didn’t have the sense to jerk away from Brad until the boy was trying to slide his hand under his shirt. Finally gaining back his senses he turned his face away throwing his hands out to push Brad away.
Brad had only grabbed his hands, pressing them into his own chest, sneering into Simon’s face again,
“You seem pretty queer right now, don’t you?” He hissed into Simon’s ear, and finally let go of his hands. Leaving Simon standing against the wall, back still aching, lips tingling slightly, stomach churning in disgust and confusion.
None of this made sense. He wasn’t sure if it was possible to be interested in both genders. But he was sure he was. He was so sure. Because, even though he wasn’t allowed near Natalie Parker anymore, he knew he still got a stir in a lower region at the thought of her. And yet, the same feeling stirred inside him whenever he was in the boy’s locker rooms changing for gym class and he caught a little too much of some other guy getting dressed.
The confusion followed him through the rest of Jr. High, until, come high school, he moved school systems. Started over.. And no one knew his name suddenly. No one associated Simon Chapman with “that queer boy”. And high school seemed to open his eyes a little. To the possibilities. To what he could do if he could just command respect from his peers. How he’d do that, he didn’t know. He wasn’t athletic, he wasn’t particularly talented at anything.
And yet…he was rich. And one day, when he decided to throw a party, people he didn’t even realize knew who he was came for it. A few parties later and he felt as if people really could care less if he was slightly queer or not. If he fucked girls or boys, or in-betweens. He started to steal from his parents drug stash, dug into their liquor cabinet.
And the world changed for him. High as a kite on every kind of substance imaginable, the words couldn’t affect him. Slowly it started to hurt him less while sober too. And he became numb all the time. The good kind. The high kind.
