Living Like Kings (BoyxBoy)

Chapter 2 - Smoke

I walked back down the street and re-entered the subway, sitting on a nearby bench. I'd wait for the train going back to Long Island.

Had that just happened? Did my parents just kick me out of the house for being gay? My thoughts were moving slowly, but there was a dark feeling sinking in that I'd never experienced before. I knew they wouldn't be happy if they'd ever found out about me, but I didn't know it'd come to this.

The train arrived and I got on it. People were giving me strange glances, quickly looking away when I caught them staring. I glared defensively back at them before realizing what they were staring at.

The blood had trickled down the side of my head, reaching the bottom of my neck. It'd started to stain my shirt, so I wiped what I could away from my skin before flattening my dark hair over my forehead. I kept my head lowered and ignored the looks from others.

I reached the stop ten minutes later and eagerly left the subway, the suffocating feeling becoming almost too much to bear. Maybe this is just a dream... I numbly weaved in and out of people, making my way to Sam's apartment. My dad's words were echoing in my mind.

We've been housing a sin.

It was probably just a joke. Or some 'lesson' they were trying to teach me. They'd probably let me back home tomorrow. They just needed time... I made it to Sam's, using the intercom to buzz his apartment. Neither he nor his brother answered, so I sat on the stairs and waited, drowning in my thoughts.

***

Hours had passed. I'd even dozed off against the rails for a few minutes and jolted awake to the sound of a nearby honking horn. I hadn't texted Sam yet. I didn't want his night getting ruined just because of mine. His brother would come home soon anyway.

I wiped my neck with my sleeve trying to get all the red stains off my skin. The metallic smell of blood surrounded me, and I felt myself start to get slightly nauseous. I longed to get rid of my ruined shirt. My head was throbbing painfully. My vision was getting worse, and I hoped it was due to my fatigue and not some serious head injury that'd silently kill me in my sleep.

I closed my eyes and rested my forehead in my hands, breathing in the cigarette-infused city air. There were sounds of shouting and cursing nearby, the voices of young drunken men enjoying their night a little too much. I tensed and kept my head down, not wanting to be noticed.

They came closer, and my gut lurched knowing they would have to pass right by me. I hoped I was hidden enough in the shadows that I'd be invisible, I was not in the mood to interact with strangers, and even if I was, I don't think my head was in a state to maintain any sort of conversation.

I heard their voices falter as they passed the steps, and held my breath, feeling their silent stares. My heart faltered when I heard a pair of footsteps coming up the stairs. I quickly raised my head out of my hands and became defensive, my adrenaline picking up.

He looked to be a few years older than me, his eyebrows set in a serious, menacing demeanor, one raised slightly in curiosity. His eyes were brighter than my soft blue ones, a green that was striking in contrast to his dark, brown hair and light, pale skin. I tore away my stare to look behind him as a feeling of unease filled me. There were three guys who looked daring, as if they wanted to start something. They all seemed to be college-aged. Two of them exchanged amused looks while the last one gave me a small sneer, and continued to walk, the other two following him.

I released a small breath as the other three got a bit farther, before loitering on a sidewalk nearby, waiting for their friend.

My heart pounded and my body stiffened as I felt him sit next to me. I smelled the faint scent of pot. What does he want?