You Were Mine From The Start (boyxboy)

Confessions and Confrontations

Hunter's POV

Every second in this damn car is a nail getting hammered deeper into my skull. Dad hasn't said a word to me since we left. There have only been quick, worried glances in my direction as if I'd just disappear unless he made sure I was still there. If only.

I've tried accepting the awkwardness by now but jeez is it a lot to accept. Hm, I wonder if that's what he's gonna say at home. God, I miss Charlie so much I've even started to think like him. Great. 

After about forty-five (very painful) more minutes, we pull up into a familiar driveway. I guess he took the long way, huh? I can't say I blame him. At least we're home now. Home sweet home. Yet, home has never felt so unwelcoming. The once warm and happy appearance of my house now looks cold and unforgiving. The door seems to be screaming at me to stay away, making me question whether or not I should listen to it. 

My dad gives me one last glance before exiting the car. I hesitate, suddenly the gravity of what I'm about to do hits me. It hits me hard. I've kind of been running blindly up until now, barely making it out of one situation with no regard for the next. I've always assumed that my dad what love me no matter what, but what if I was wrong? What if my dad is homophobic? He's never really talked about it like this. He's always been fine with Charlie, but what if it's different since I'm his son? What if he kicks me out? I'd have nowhere to go, I've lost all my friends, I'd be completely alone. 

My dad walks up to the door and starts to unlock it. I slowly start to walk to the entrance to our house. Each footstep grows heavier with dread, images of my dad yelling and screaming at me flash in my mind. I see him calling me those horrible words, looking at me with disappointment and disgust, maybe even hitting me. It suddenly gets hard to breathe, and my entire body is tense. Every fiber in my being is telling me to turn and run, to run and don't look back before it's too late. But before I know it I'm at the door.

He looks at me with anticipation, standing a few feet away from the doorway. He seems unsure, and frankly a bit scared of what I might say to him. I enter my house and shut the door behind me, then turn back to face my dad. 

"So, um, how do you uh wanna do this?" he says anxiously.

"Can we go up to my room?" I ask quietly. My throat dries up, and my voice seems shaky. 

"Sure, whatever you want Hunter," he says softly. He nods then starts to head upstairs to my room. 

I'm not sure why I want to talk in my room, I doubt it would be any different anywhere else. I guess it's because where all my happier memories are. Like waking up in the morning excited to go eat a delicious breakfast my mom cooked, or talking to Charlie every day and even inviting him over and hanging out in there, the good old times. This is also where my dad and I would talk about stuff when I was younger too. I'm not sure why we stopped, but we just did at some point. I guess it's time to restart an old tradition.

My dad is sitting on the desk chair when I walk inside. I thought he'd sit there since he'd always complain about the lack of back support from sitting on the bed. Under different circumstances, I would've chuckled thinking of the time he complained about it, and then Charlie called him an old man to his face. 

I walk over to my bed and sit down.

We sit there in silence, both of us unsure of what to say. After a few unbearably awkward seconds, he decides to break the tension.

"Look," he says getting my attention, "I took the long way home to have more time to a) calm myself down and b) to try to think of anyway where this is any easier for the either of us. The truth is, I don't know how to do this without it being completely awkward and uncomfortable for the both of us. But, I have to ask, for my sake just as much as yours... Hunter, what's wrong?"