Two shits.

Chapter 3 Uncut

Kyle showed up a little over half an hour ago. We'd been in my room the whole time, talking about new things and what has changed. The conversation started dying. I don't know what to say. What's something that might start a conversation?

"So have you gotten a girlfriend?" I ask, not realizing until after how stupid a question that may be.

"Okay." He presses his palm to his forehead. "When I tell you this, I want you to know that I was ten years old at the time and you need to promise you won't see me differently."

I smile and nod. It's always fun to look back on the past and cringe.

"Alright," he sighs. "Well when you went away, I thought you were a really great friend. I even had thoughts of you and I together when you returned. As weird as that sounds, this was young, stupid, ten year old me. So I literally held back from all relationships until I was like twelve or something and came to conclusion that I wasn't actually gay, and you may never even return at all. So I did get a girlfriend eventually sometime last year. I thought it was a pretty good relationship. I mean she trusted me. I even slept with her twice. One day she just wanted to start a fight over nothing. I'm pretty sure she just wanted to break up. I haven't really dated since. I still don't like boys, but I feel like girls are too much work for me at this point in time. So my plan is to not get a girlfriend until I can find one who really wants to be serious."

I try not to chuckle or even break a smile at how gay that was.
"And who was she?" I ask

"Ah shit. You remember Bebe Stevens?"

I lost it. I laugh so hard, I've never laughed this much in six years.

"You mean the same girl who's slept with just about every guy in our grade?"

"Who told you that?" His face burns red with embarrassment.

"Kenny sent me a letter. She's kind of a whore, dude."

We laugh for a while before it clicks in my brain. Something feels weird. It makes me feel weird that he's no longer a virgin. I don't really feel uncomfortable, but it just makes me feel a little sick. Why do I care? It's so wrong that I'm still even thinking about it. I can't stop imagining it. At least I was able to start a conversation. I still regret asking, but yet if I never asked, I would have never known a key detail. He was waiting for me.
I remember back to the last time I saw him before I had to go away. I literally asked him to lay with me all night in the hospital bed. We kissed 10 hours prior to that, and later snuck out like most romantic couples do to talk. I led him on, I convinced him that he and I were going to happen. I took that all away from him when I had left. What if it could have been something? I know I was confused about him back at the time. I even thought of him as my only happy drug I couldn't wait to come back to him because I was so happy. Though, this was all six years ago. Do I really still feel the same? Does he even feel the same? I might be better off never finding out, but I'll hate myself forever if I never do.

"Kyle I have a question." I sit on my bed, nervously shifting my fingernails over each other.

"Sure, dude." He gives me direct eye contact, making this even more awkward.

"Uh, okay." I stutter. "So, you told me that you like, I don't know. You waited for me to come back for a long time because, well, I guess you wanted to be with me when I came back, right?"

He nods. "Yeah... Why?"

I start to shake. This is stupid. I can't go back now. I might ruin the only friendship that still means anything to me after being isolated for so long. Six years. I don't want to lose a friend who stayed with me even though it was hard to communicate for six years. I know it's not guaranteed that I'll lose him, but he must like girls now. It's too late now. I might as well go in and shoot.

"This is a really stupid question, but it's just a question." My heart starts beating faster as I talk even softer. "Would you still, for some reason, feel the same?"

It went quiet. He looks down to the ground. I break into a cold sweat. I just fucked up.

Kyle breathes in quietly then looks up. "I mean, well I guess possibly. Why? Is there something that you want to say?"

Possibly always means yes, especially when it's used in that context, unless he's lying to see what I'll say. This will either end well, or not well at all.

"Kyle, I have been confused about this since the day I left. I guess I might still be thinking about it."

"Yeah, me too." He says. It gets silent but this isn't an awkward silence. It's like we're both thinking about the same thing.

"Kyle?" I speak soft again. "Do you want to try something?"

He nods. He doesn't say anything, he doesn't have to. We both stand up and face each other. I grab his hand and hold onto it. This feels right. We collide together as I kiss his lips. I can feel him smiling. Suddenly the kiss gets to be more passionate. I'm alright with it. He bites my lip without a care. It's like he's been waiting for this for a long time. Maybe he has.
This is all escalating so quickly. I have the same feeling as I had six years ago, but stronger now. This time I understand. This time I'm sure of what I want.
He starts to remove his coat, our lips still connected. I remove my shirt and push him against the wall. We both back up, falling down on my bed. I pull away to kiss his neck. I have a rush of adrenaline running through me. Everything is happening so fast, I like it.

Kyle whispers in my ear. "Are you really ready?" He lay beneath me, holding the back of my head.

"I've been waiting to love you for six years. I'm more than ready." I breathe on his neck.

He closes his eyes and runs his fingers through my hair. I feel him; barely able to control himself. I'm struggling myself. I'm feeling what love is for the first time. Kyle is my first love, hopefully my last.

My heart is beating faster than ever before. This moment is all that matters to me right now. Euphoria courses through my veins. Our warm bodies press against each other.

He lay beneath me and whispers softly just above my neck, "Love me."