Setting Fire to the Stars (mxm)

Chapter 4: Doubt

**(Note that this chapter contains references to underage drinking, physical violence/abuse, death, vomiting, and homophobia/homophobic slurs.)**

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Peter
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What the hell am I doing?

My head fell back against the concrete walls of the tunnel as Lauren stopped shaking, slipping into unconsciousness. I watched his chest rise and fall, the color slowly returning to his pale face. A spray of freckles dusted his cheeks, drawing my gaze to his long lashes. Tears streamed down his face to his jaw.

Carefully, I wiped away the last of his tears, pausing to brush back the loose hair from his eyes. The strands slowly fell through my fingers, surprisingly soft. I briefly wondered what it would feel like to run my hands through it, to tangle my fingers and inhale his scent.

Fuck, not this again.

A heavy sigh fell from my lips as I dropped my hand from Laurens' face. God, I thought I was past this. How many times must I push him away to avoid these thoughts? How many days had I shoved by him in the hallways only to be reminded of the dreams that plagued me every night? Dreams of whispered sweet-nothings mixed with soft touches and so much more.

How many years have I spent desperately trying not to want him?

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After Lauren told me our freshman year he was gay, I was genuinely confused. Two men could fall in love? Did that mean these feelings I didn't understand, all the emotions I was pretending not to feel, were normal? So it was okay for me to like Lauren as more than just a friend?

My whole world had turned upside down. With my heart rapidly beating in my chest, I ran away, leaving him alone in that hallway as I tried to wrap my mind around the concept.

It is possible for a man to love another man?

I had asked my uncle that very question the first night I was home on winter break. Uncle Warren and my father never got along, and after he moved to L.A., he cut ties with everyone in our family except for me. He was the only one I trusted enough to talk to about my personal life.

Uncle Warren had assured me that love was love, no matter what gender. I'd returned home after our chat, excited to see Lauren after the holidays. I couldn't even text him because I was so nervous.

Unfortunately, my father somehow found out about my conversation with Uncle Warren.

Apparently, Dad hadn't thought too highly of my line of thinking. The first punch had hurt the most. My father had always hit hard and this time was no exception. He beat me to a pulp, shouting that he "didn't want a fag for a son". I'd tried to tell him I wasn't gay, that I liked girls, but the beatings just kept coming.

My mother eventually ran in, screaming for him to stop. Thankfully, even though my father was an abusive drunkard, he never touched my mother. Instead, he yelled that he never wanted to hear me speak like that again, before storming into the living room with a beer in his hand.

Mom had just stood there white as a sheet, crying as she watched me pick myself up off the floor and drag my battered body to the bathroom.