Beautiful Misery BxB

Beautiful Misery BxB

A/N:

As always, this is a Boy Love novel, which means guys are going to kiss and touch and do the nasty, if you don't like it, well don't eefing read it! Again, it's starting out as a PG-13 kinda thing until this friday where it will be changed to rated R, I'm just giving you lovely children the opportunity to download it while you can, because my mind is a dark and dirty place, and my books reflect such things. I love you all and hope you enjoy what my child hood would've been like if I were a boy ^_^ I really did move thirty some times and I really did live in Brownsville Texas in a suburb, the people deplicted in this story were real people but their names and appearances were changed in minimal ways, most of this is milarky, but some of it is real, as are all my stories. Enjoy!

ZEKE:

I've made a horrible mistake.

I'm not exactly sure exactly how it all happened, but I can tell you now how it ends as time has slowed to a melodramatic crawl as I free fall off the top of a thirty story building. It all started when I was not-so-sweet seventeen at a new school having no idea that at the still young age of twenty two I was destined to be pushed off the top of a tall building. My parents were at war once again which could only mean one thing for me—yet another move, a new home in a new place with a small town housing a new school; a fresh start for my mom and a new hell for me. “It's an adventure!” my mom said, excitedly, patting the back of my fingerless-ly gloved hand curled in to a ball in my lap. This time mom had decided not only to move us to a new part of London, Scotland, Italy, France or Ireland, heck I'd have even taken Australia—no, mum was now completely off her rocker, she was dragging me all the way to America.

The land of the free my arse, more like the land of homophobic, low-browed, knuckle-dragging neanderthals. They were brutish inbreeds, the lot of them if you asked me—not a single one of them worth the effort of words, so in my futile attempt to stay on the Eastern Hemisphere I had gone silent. Mum had been moving around and dragging me with her sense I was barely four, each time spewing that 'adventure' bull and I had swallowed it whole, thinking of myself as a gypsy of sorts until I was around nine and things quit adding up. Mum would start talking to dad again, he would move in with us, we'd be a happy family for as long as a year or as short as a week, they would fight and mum and I would set off for our next adventure.

With a mother like that I'm sure you can see why I'm 110% gay.

I had never liked girls, at first when I was still in Blues-Clues welligogs (rain boots) I had chalked it up to cooties or something of the like—all boys thought girls were icky. Then around fourth grade when my peers slowly started thinking girls were fab and pretty I stayed thinking they were gross, a feeling that magnified ten fold when their bodies started ballooning in odd areas. The other lads went wild for it though. In the seventh grade I was told of a thing called 'gay', apparently their were guys out there who didn't like girls either and would hold hands and kiss with other guys, here I am, a dumb kid thinking 'heck yeah, that sounds much more like my kind of party!' it wasn't until I hit on the star footballer that I realized (ow) not all guys are equally open minded.

“Ezekiel,” my mother sighed exasperated, “can't you muster the weensiest bit of excitement for our fresh start?” I scoffed and plugged in my headphones, turning the volume loud enough for her to hear and blasting Simple Plan's “I'm Just A Kid”. Never heard it? Well look it up, I'm not a damned jukebox and I won't sing it for you. “Zeke, love, surely it's not as bad as all that.” I glared with a 'yes it is' look on my face. “America's a lovely country.” I fake gagged. “There are plenty of posh American actors, surely there will be some nice looking lads at your new school.” 'one problem with your little dream bubble there mummy dearest' I typed on my phone, sticking it under her nose. “And that would be?” she asked, quickly loosing her patience. 'America is riddled with homophobes, I'm more likely to die in my first week than get a boyfriend...where is it were going again?' I typed furiously. Having always been a big text-er it took less than a minute to type it all out on the miniscule keyboard. “A town called Brownsville, Texas, love.” she chuckled, ceaselessly happy.