The Wonderful Tales of "Straight" Scott

Sexier Pizza

(Scott POV)

Okay, I know you may seem confused. It's not what it seems. Let me start from the moment we got in the car.

We had just finished dancing. The songs were over and Ryan-without being asked-had kindly packed the remaining slices into a box, writing a note on the receipt. It read "You guys are a special pair, keep it that way" and then a drawing of a winky-face, nerd.

We got in the car, bringing our pizza box with us. I started up the car and drove off into the dark streets of downtown, most of the LED lights have turned off, and most of the stores were closed, with the exception of some bars, strip clubs and 24-hour drive-thru's. I looked over at the digital clock only to realize it was 11:55pm, it may not seem late to you, to be quite honest you're probably reading this at 2:00am, but I'm different. You see, my parents believed all children under the age of 21 should have to go to bed at 8:00-8:30pm, so they can be "fully regenerated" by the time they wake up at 6:00am. So this is outrageous in my world.

We're almost out of downtown, the radio is softly singing some Twenty One Pilots song, but too quiet to make out what exact song. I steer my eyes away from the road for a second to fix them on Sean. It was only for a second but I noticed everything. I observed the way his fingers and toes tapped along to the bass in sync, I saw his eyes sparkle at the sight of the night through the window, I saw pale-pink lips, the curve of his chin, the warm raspberry color in his cheeks, the way his shirt showed his perfect collar bones, and oh my god that fucking smirk that always seems to be plastered on his face.

We pull into the driveway, I feel every bump as the tires roll over some rocks which laid randomly across the concrete. I look at the digital clock and it's green letters read 12:09am, it's past curfew, I'm just glad we didn't get pulled over.

I get out along with Sean, and start walking towards the house. I look up and get caught in the sea of stars, the man on the moon reeling me in further and further. There were no stars before, but I guess they were just in hiding. The sky is so over whelming, I don't know how to explain it. I feel so small compared to such a large field ebony. I can't look away. The way the ink has covered the once turquoise sky, and stuck glow-in-the-dark star stickers all over it. Then we get to the moon, the barely full moon that seems so close, so bright, so breathtaking.

"Sound okay?" I jerk my head towards Sean, staring at him puzzled. Shit, I always do this.

"I'm s-sorry, what?"

"I kind of want to stay the night, does that sound okay?" he chuckles.

"Um, y-yeah? Sure" I respond, still slightly flustered. I look back up at the ocean. The Moon Man catches Sean, too. We swim through the stars, catching every one, overwhelmed by how many there are.

"They're beautiful aren't they?" I announce stupidly. 

Then it happened.

He grabbed my waist, and firmly pulled me toward him. I opened my mouth agape from the sudden motion. He reached his hand to my face and brushed the hair out of my eyes. He leaned in closer. My heart started beating faster. Closer. I can feel the heat radiating off of him. Closer.

"But not as beautiful as you" He breathes through a smile. His lips are so close, if i moved my head forward an inch we would be connected.

"You're so fucking cliche" damn my sarcasm. Luckily, he laughs, damn his stupid beautiful smile. I see his smile and time stops. Y'know, they say when you meet the love of your life time stops, and that's true. The only thing they don't tell you is that once it starts again, it moves extra fast to catch up. That's the thing, I couldn't even tell you the details because it was moving so fast.

All I remember is him lifting me up bridal style, walking down the path to the door, getting inside and setting me down.

Then he did . . . stuff.

I remember him taking my hands and pushing them on the wall above my head. I remember me jumping up, legs wrapping around his waist. We walked upstairs, through my bedroom door and . . . oh, now I remember, very thorough.

He laid me on my bed, I remember having a pain in my stomach, but an one that felt oddly pleasing. He grabbed his shirt and threw it off, tossing it aside. He reached his leg around me, allowing him to be on top of me. The pain had become exhausting at this point. He rested his lips on my jawline, being careful not to leave any marks, trailing them towards my lips. His lips are so soft, I feel like it should be an honour just to kiss them. He tasted like strawberry and cinnamon, a strange yet exotic taste.

He bunched the fabric of my black sweater in his fist. I felt uncomfortable for some reason, but decided to brush it off. He reached for the bottom of the clothing and began to take it off. My head hurts. I don't know why, but I don't stop him.  My sweater is know completely off, he takes a moment to just stare at me, I reach my arms around my stomach out of habit. I hate when people stare at me, even if it's out of lust.

He cups my cheek in his hand and begins a trail of kisses under my jaw, to my neck, collarbone, chest, stomach, and to the zipper of my pants. He takes it in his teeth, oh god. I squeeze the sheets, trying not to make a noise, trying to hold in the pain in my head and in the pit of my stomach, I try to push the bad memories out of my brain, but it doesnt work.

He starts sliding down my jeans, I can feel my legs get colder by every inch of fabric that leaves my skin. A very familiar cold. My pants are off, and you can only see my boxers. I see a smiling face, but its not Sean's, why can't it just be Sean's? The lip glossed smile pulls out a knife. The smile smells like peppermint and alcohol.

"Stop!" I yell, pushing him off of me. I stumble to the corner next to my bed and slam my body against it's cool surface. I run my hands through my hair and grabbed at the tufts in my fists. I felt hot tears running down my cheeks.

"Scott, what the fuck? What's going on?" He said, in a very panicked tone.

"Shut up, shut up, shut up!" I scream, hurting my throat that had already formed a lump. I heard the steps walking towards me, then a shadow cast over me, making me feel watched, small. I look up to see a familiar, homey pair of emerald eyes.

"Shh, Scott, you need to breathe" he states calmly, making me realize my off tempo breathing pattern and the deep pain in my chest, as if something is weighed down on it. Am I hyperventilating? Am I having another panic attack? The speeding thoughts in my head only worsen my situation.

"It's okay Scott, you just need to breathe. I'm not going to hurt you alright?" I nod, making an attempt to calm myself down, but not making a difference.

"Can I touch you?" I nod. He grabs my waist and lifts my up on his lap, letting his fingers trail circles on my back, calming me down. He lifts me up gently as if he were lifting up a newborn, calming me down. He lays me on the bed cuddling next to me, calming me down. He places a kiss on my neck, calming me down.

"Goodnight Scottie"

"Goodnight Sean" I love you.