Weep For The Sea

Chapter One: Fragile

My head hung above the toilet, vomit began to spew out like a volcano who's been keeping an orgasm in for 4,000 years. My stomach crunched and repelled any consumable object that was brought to my lips. I felt Mikey staring at me from behind, that left an aching pain of anxiety fill my lungs and release less oxygen than the breath before. I hated when people stand behind me, the unpleasant shadow that stood behind me, it could be an unidentified person. I might not know them. They could be after to kill me! For god sakes, I hoped I'm not going mad.
Mikey, I knew, was not. I could trust him as him knelt down beside me, he crept closer as he had realized he aimed poorly. I knew what he was about to say, he was going to say I had to get up and remodel my behavior for the sake of our name.
"Gerard-" I pleaded out a gasp in desperation that he didn't say what he and I both knew were going to tear from his lips. They bled through anyway. Leaving a tremendous and painful gap in my heart. Was he going to force me out of his life? Goddamn, this happened way too many times for me to give up hope that he was going to forgive me.
"You need to realize the alcohol you drink, is draining you. Look at the fucking evidence you're presenting yourself!" I couldn't believe it was anything other than the words "Get out."
I collapsed to the ground, laying in my own puke, watching Mikey leave the bathroom stall. Graffiti covered the the stall door and it dripped to the ground as if it was just done. Gum was pasted on every surface available. The toilet, the walls, basically strapped to the floor. Disgusting.
My hand touched the rim of the toilet, well barely until I felt vomit indent itself into my skin. Great. I'm a vomit soaked drunk with nowhere to go. Scraping myself off of the floor wasn't something I was necessarily used to, Mikey had always been there to help. It wasn't as hard as he made it look, afterall, I am only 124 pounds. Though, I guess my biggest worry was that I'd slip and break my skull open. Anyway, I slapped my hand against the cement floor, cringing at the layers of filth that covered it.
I promptly remembered I had my phone in the back pocket of my jeans then, gradually realized I had no one to call. What the fuck was this? A joke? A phone, finally working without lag or glitch but no one to call.then I saw it, a phone number written on the toilet seat in white sharpie, the last digit was smudged but legible. Was that part of the joke? Did someone know I was alone or was it the greatest coincidence? "Haha very funny, who was stupid enough to write this?" I sputtered this loudly with drips of alcohol dribbling down my chin that I didn't know were still in there. Huh.
The music from the venue outside the bathroom was crashing against my mind and thudding against the walls of my brain like an ocean against a baby. Every time someone opened the door, I could feel my fovea bruising at the lack of sleep I'd had. Well that and the accompanied fact I'd had 18 bottles of beer just to block out the amount of pain I'd felt. Jesus Christ I need to get out of here. Looking over at the number, I picked my phone up and began to dial.
Straight to voicemail and being me, I had to leave one. Great idea.
"You write your number on a toilet and you don't answer your phone, what the fuck? You are a bad friend. Okay? Awful." Realizing I had no idea who this person is. Oh well.
A few seconds later, the phone rang. Same number. I began prepping myself for the response and answered before the fourth ring.
"Hello?" In an innocent tone, I proceeded to do an "I'm not drunk, just tired." voice.
"Hey I don't recognize this number, you must have the wrong one but by the toilet mention, I'm guessing you're drunk and need a ride." How did he know? Yeah, he.
"I'll be there in 6 minutes by the fourth venue down." Good. that's the one I'm at. I think..maybe I should check. Oh god, what if he thinks it's a different place? Well, actually that wouldn't make sense unless he wrote his number on every toilet seat at every venue he'd been at.
I waited outside thinking of every possibility that could happen. What if he was a rapist? A serial killer?anything could happen, the risk was great and I was a drunken mess, waiting for a number on a toilet. Then, a green SUV pulled up to me, I guess both of us had to be assuming for me to get into the car. I was expecting a family dad, maybe 30's with a couple of kids? Maybe it was just the ride because, over the phone, the guy sounded a lot younger than anywhere near 30. Maybe even younger than me, a 22 year old.
I got into the car, slamming my body against the leather seating also, slamming the door shut. Neither of us said anything until I was fed up with the deafening silence. "So uh, how's your family?"
"What?" He seemed genuinely confused. Either confused that a complete stranger who had just called him off a limb or some other reason that could possibly end me up in jail.
"Well I figure you have a couple of kids, a wife..maybe some pets like a large dog or something by the SUV." He chuckled.
"I'm uh, not..well, okay. How old do you think I am?" Was this a game? He spoke like we'd been friends since birth and I should have known as an instinct. I had to have a quick response, so I guessed which wasn't necessarily something I, of all people would do."36?" The laugh that poured out of his mouth was long and sharp.
"I'm 16. Sorry."
"What the hell? Why are you driving this? Your number on a 21+ venue toilet?" Not only did I sound baffled, my mind felt as it was spun right off.
"The car..uh..I have my license-" Was he trying to hide something from me? A stranger? His voice was hesitant and raspy like the saliva drained from his mouth as well as any fluid from his body when he was caught in a lie.
"-Ever heard of a fake ID?" We both laughed. More like little giggles but, whatever. That wasn't important. Even though he had the cutest giggle and all I wanted to do was just see his face. Neither of us looked at each other and I guess that was expected considering he was doing me, again, a stranger, just a favor.
"So I guess this would be the time to ask where you need to go." I had to think on that for a second. Where am I going to go? "Any bar near here should be okay, thanks."
"No." Did he really just say no to me, not only a stranger as I am pretty sure I have pulled that statement out of my ass 6 times in the past hour. But I'm an adult?
"What?"
"You're already drunk enough, if you have nowhere else to go, you can come back to my place." He paused for a second before he pulled this, out of his throat. "You have to tell me how old you are first."
"I'm 22. Why?"
"Well, I can't just walk in and say 'Hey I have a 40 year old drunk here!' That wouldn't get you off on a good start." That made sense, I guess. After I didn't say anything and continued to stare out the dirty window, he made small talk in a really bad way. "What side of the bed do you sleep on?" Wow okay, at this point, my brain was unrolling itself onto the cement ground to be run over just to release the amount of unbearable pain was coming toward it. By pain I mean I don't usually talk to people, much less strangers who want to know about my sleeping habits. "Right." It just slipped out before I really thought about it. Was I left kind of guy? Right? Oh well, I already spoke.
"Hm. I'm a left - Oh hey, we're almost there." Any dim-witted mind could sense the amount of released of tension that rolled out of our mouth in an exasperated sigh. Finally, after a couple of minutes, we drove up to a large house, two levels and a typical garden, well, from what I saw in the pitch black. Oh god, we were getting out of the SUV, why am I this nervous? He walked around to open my door, the moon light might have just been flattering our faces but, we both had a second of awe. Maybe it was just me.I wonder if he'll ever tell me his name so I can call him something other than little words that only described his gender. Maybe not, who cared? Except the fact that it would tear me up inside if I never found out what his name was and just left.
He grabbed for my hand to pull me out, I reluctantly took his hand, it was so warm. Mentally prepping myself for the large possibility I was going to get kicked out of this kid's house by his parents, all people I've never met. "Uh..hey." He looked down at his hand, that's when I realized I had my hand still locked onto his. He must have thought I'm such a weirdo. Maybe even a pedophile. I released so fast.
We walked up to the front door, pulling the latch so quietly, I couldn't even hear it and I wasn't even a foot away. The kid looked over at me with a frightened look and raised his index finger to his lips. His alluring lips..they looked so generous and soft. God damn, I am a pedophile.
He gestured me into the house after he made sure it was "all clear". Luckily, his house was so big that his bedroom was on the other side of the house, his parents dead asleep. 2nd door to the left in a baby blue hallway, paint chipping off of the wall with what looked like every time they shut the door. Wow. His bed was huge. I sat down, pulling my knees up to my chin while I looked around the enormous room, mostly records, guitars and clothes around his room. Typical. Turning around, he smiled at me, a warm smile. Genuine. "Is the light blinding you?" I nodded in response, hoping he'd turn it down a little bit. "Alright, you should get some sleep or something." I just wanted to talk to him, continue to talk, laughing and maybe get to know him. I guess in order for that to happen, I had to say something.
"What's your name?" His head shot up, still standing at the door. He looked at me like I was mad for asking a minor their name. Well, if this was the street we're going down, he was like a murderer or a rampage and I was a robber. He was the one to invite me into his house.
"Frank..yours?" Frank. That's nice. The name never really left any sort of significance in my mind, it was more of a default name. "Gerard." My response was short and fast for some reason.
"Oh cool, that's not really a common name. I like it." My head shot up with a smile spread across my stupid face.
"Anyway, you said you sleep on the right side?"
"Yeah, left?" We  shot a look at each other, knowing we were sleeping in the same bed. Oh god. What if I fuck up with even a little motion and he misreads it completely, leaving me in jail for attempted rape of a minor?
"Yeah. i could have the whole bed to myself and still sleep on the edge for some kind of comfort?"
"You gotta girlfriend?" This was an important question. An infinite amount of possibilities could be in jeopardy if he does.
"What? No. Why would you ask that?"
"Well, you said you 'could' have the bed to yourself." My stomach filled with regret of asking that question.
"Why couldn't I have a boyfriend? I mean, girls aren't the only thing a guy thinks about, you know?" Oh my god is he implying he's gay?
We sat side by side for a little while until he leaned over to me and whispered "I know you don't know me that well but, I hope you don't mind sleeping with me." I whispered back "Only if you don't snore." We both laughed. Off to a nice start.
I couldn't believe he felt like I was going to be the one uncomfortable. I've never felt much of an attraction to anyone until this and it honestly made me feel disgusting for reasons that should only be obviously to the naked eye.
He was a minor, I'd known him for a couple of hours, I already wanted to rip his pants off and that isn't even the slightest bit okay.
"Do you want some night clothes to wear?"
"Yeah, thanks."
"More of a thanks from me, I really don't want my sheets stained with puke, anything else." His voice sank when he added the last bit. Did he mean actually anything or was it to show his hate for vomit? Anyway, as he dug through drawers, I couldn't help but look at his ass while he bent down. I closed my eyes, letting my imagination run wild on everything I could do to Frank.
"Don't fall asleep just yet." He looked straight at me, throwing a pair of boxers and a tank at me. He wore something similar. When I walked past his door, my eyes skimmed his dresser, filled to the top with regular night pants and shirts but, this was okay.
"The bathroom is across the hall, don't get lost." He smirked.
As I walked into the bathroom, I realized he'd worn these underwear and though I knew it was wrong, I held them up to my face, smelling them and taking it all in. A long, moan like sigh felt ripped from my mouth as I put them down. Oh god, my cock was the most erect it's ever been when I looked down, panicking, I decided I could just cover with my clothes and sneak under the covers, not letting him see. It'd be okay.
I walked out, clutching the clothes around my crotch and hoping he wouldn't notice, god I feel like such a pervert. I opened the door, quietly, in case he was asleep. Almost as silent as the front door. Looks like I'm not the only one here with an urge to fuck. Frank was wanking in the centre of the bed with his legs wide open. I stepped in loudly to let him know I was coming in. Just as a precaution, I also cleared my throat in a very obvious way, even an infant could figure it out. He stopped, rolling over to his side, welcoming me into his bed. Seeing that made me even more hard. Great.
"You can just throw your clothes over there." Pointing to an empty corner on the other side of the room, meaning I'd have to walk all the way over with my cock standing out.
"Nah, I can just set them next to the bed, it's okay."
I laid next to him in the bed, tossing and rolling, trying not to go to his side. That was until I heard little moans and whimpers, looking over, I realized he was at it again, he didn't stop until I slid over to his side of the bed. I ran the underside of his cock with my fingers, a moan slipped from his mouth, he tilted his head back onto my shoulder. I had hardly even started yet but, he was biting his lip, holding back loud gasps. Moving my thumb, I started stroking his dick, gradually going into moving my fist up and down. Frank's mouth opened, jaw dropping, letting out the moans he'd kept in. Gripping my thigh, gasping and exhaling sharply, he came all over the sheets. Faster than I had thought but, well, he's a teenager. My cock was rubbing against the back of his thigh, eventually, Frank started to press his ass against my cock, stroking my thigh with the tip of his fingers. Making me oddly, much hornier.
"D-do you have any condoms?" He shook his head, great.
"We can do it without one.." Before I could say no, he turned over, stomach facing the bed with his back slanted, ass up. Believe me, this is what I want but-
"Come on.." Frank's voice was weak and shaking. Still erect, he grabbed the sheets, in a louder, more exasperated tone, he repeated "Come on."
I got behind him, obviously, he was preparing himself for pain he knew was going to be inflicted but the way his face turned bright red, I couldn't help myself. I stuck the tip of my cock in, waiting for a response to do otherwise. It felt so good. I pushed half of my dick in, he groaned with pleasure and cleared a pained sound, I thrusted over and over until he clenched a wad of the sheets in his fists, shortly after, he needed to stop.
"Everything just got so blurry..I'm sorry. That spot. The last spot you hit, oh my god." We were both panting, trying to grasp onto each breath as if we were drowning, he added onto the comment. "Gerard? This was my first time and I just-I don't want you to leave."
"I don't want to leave either..this was my first time too."
The silence lingered the room as we just stared each other down, smiling.