Boy Meets... Boy

*Prologue

Hello reader! So this book is my experiment for boyxboy books, I LOVE to read them and I would write this on my regular account but I have homophobic-reader friends and I would get too self conscious writing certain parts and hold off. Thus, this is my new account strictly for writing and reading my not-so-guilty pleaser te-he. My plan, I want you to get excited when I update, I want you to cry when sad parts happen, I want you to do that loud-blow-from-the-nose- laugh when some things funny, and I want you to beg me to write a sequel when it's over. Though I'm sure I might get 5 reads on this, THANK YOU to the people that do, and those who comment and/or vote will be followed by me here and on my other account if you keep my secret ;)

I hope at least one person read that ^ it took me a while to write....

Any who, Prologue time!

BTW, this will be kind of short cause it's only an introduction, but the rest will be long I promise.

Prologue

"Mom, how much longer until we're there?" I whined as I looked out the dried-rain-spotted window, watching with a small smile all the buildings that we speed by. The winter weather outside shows, as large, dirty clumps of snow cling to the curbs and block my view of the slush filled lawns. My red Van-covered feet tapped impatiently on the grey dashboard, thumping to the beat of the faint song that played on the radio.

"I'm not sure, sweetie. Maybe ten minutes? Relax, I'm sure there'll be plenty of boys for you to eye rape when we get there." She laughed, poking my ribs with a smirk as I glared back, holding in my own smile. Mom never hesitated to tease me about being gay, but she took it the best when I came out back in seventh grade so I can't complain. She looked at me, her dark chocolate-brown eyes shining with hope from this new town. Her skin (around the shade of dark beige from grandma and grandpa being my favorite biracial couple ever) had no makeup, like usual, but she wore the normal attire of any realtor.

I nodded, biting my lip slightly at the thought, maybe there were a few gays I could 'mingle' with here. All I can think about now is the fact that even with a half black mom and one of those naturally dark white guys as a sperm donor- oops. I mean father - I still ended up around the same shade of the February icicles that hung on the sides of most houses we passed. This place better be a tad more accepting than Tadita, the town I fled from the bullying thrown at me for my sexuality. What can I say, haters gonna hate. I felt my lips twitch into a sigh of relief when we drove past the green 'Welcome to Claremont' sign, here's to New Hampshire.

"How much longer now?" I spoke slyly, my face scrunching up in laughter from her annoyed roll of the eyes towards me. "What, did your watch break, damn, didn't mean to offend anyone!" I swear my voice echoed throughout the car, but you know, imagination is a bitch. She huffed tiredly, turning my way and motioning forward with her head as the car turned into a gravel driveway. So this is what New Hampshire was like; huh.

The car pulled up to the semi-familiar yellow house, it looked the same as its picture; unlike most of the men on those chat rooms. I stepped out, shrugging my phone into the back pocket of the black skinny jeans on my boney legs. Without taking any boxes from the car and ignoring the mom-like calls from my mother- okay I guess those were expected- I made my way around the stone pathway that led to the small white wood porch in front of the house. My feet padded against the wood, creating a real echo in this little section covered by the grey shackles of the roof.

I shoved the bronze key into the obviously newly replaced doorknob and pushed the door in, making a light squeak flow into my ears. Is that how sound travels, flowing through the air? There was a partially made home, a circular light, wooden table surrounded by matching chairs in the front of the kitchen. Behind the set sat an island counter that continued up to the wall, circling to make a baking area and room for a fridge next to it all. There was also a white painted door; it was open enough to show a bathroom, a pretty one at that.

I continued to venture through the house, finding a laundry room from the hallway, a fully furnished living room, along with a mini library branching off from it, and a Victorian style staircase that led to two bedrooms, another bathroom, and a den. The house was definitely big enough for the two of us, but it was actually quite small compared to the original Victorian houses that lined the street. Though I preferred the feel of carpet, most of the house was a cherry wood, but I guess I could deal with it if there was at least one cute neighbor boy. Which there was, I already saw him from the room I claimed as my own.

I had high hopes for this place, hopefully they were accepting of homos around here, because one thing I wasn't hiding here was my gayness. My gayness, is that even a word, or description; or am I just one of those 'super-gays' who walk around on TLC giving fashion advice in those terrible voices. I could try that; maybe it's be a good flirting technique for neighbor boy. Insert my wink here.