The Wonderful Tales of "Straight" Scott

Doppleganger

Sorry I haven't posted in ten years, don't worry I'm not dead *finger guns*
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Scott POV

I make it to his building, noticing their apartment quickly as theirs is the only one with a flag of any sort, that being a rainbow pride flag. They'll soon learn that any kind of pride besides American or Christian is not tolerated here.

I walk up to the door, texting Emmet of my arrival before buzzing myself in. Every step I take up the stairs I feel the pressure building, like I'm falling deeper into this mess of my life and I know I could never climb out.

I approach their door, quickly noticing the "Beware of Dog" sign, making a smile creep up on my face. We don't get many dogs around here, but when we do it makes my euphoria explode and anything that's horrible in my life sort of takes a pause. I knock on the door, instantly getting a low bark from the other side. I hear Emmet repeatedly yelling for "Jerry" to "go lay down!", then I hear a quiet "good boy".

The door swings open, revealing a tired Emmet. We stand there for a couple of seconds and I feel everything around me blur, the focus is on him. 

He let's me in, and I'm quickly approached by 'Jerry', their Pitbull. Fear builds up, of course, it's a Pitbull! I'm instantly knocked over by the large beast and, to my surprise, is given a million dog kisses. He's not biting of my face, not breaking any bones, just havin' a good time.

"C'mon Jerry, get off of him!" Emmet says, pulling on his collar. I stand up, wiping off my face.

"Sorry, I hope you aren't allergic to dogs," he says laughing. Luckily, I'm not, so I laugh with him and I really want to tell him how cute he looks when his hair's in a bun.

"Oh! So this must be Scott!" His mom says with a warm, mothering grin; one that I can only remember faintly from my own mother.

"Hello! I'm- uh, I guess you already know that," I awkwardly laugh, "and you're name?"

"How rude of me! I'm Kathy, Kathy Prince," Kathy, such a mom name, it gives me a comforting feeling, and I all of the sudden feel like my chest can be free to breathe. Emmet and Kathy seem to have  an almost identical introduction. Like mother like son, I guess.

We finish our greetings, not before Kathy offers about a million snack for us to choose from. I say no to every one, I dont want to be rude! But it seems like Emmet doesn't care, he gladly takes an assortment, from slices of apples to "ants on a log", a snack I can easily describe as celery sticks with peanut butter and raisins filling the inside. It's odd, she seems okay with both of our answers. She doesn't seem to be offended by me, as most people are when I say I don't want anything to eat, and with Emmet she doesn't seem annoyed, if anything she seems rather uplifted that he's eating some snacks she had prepared.

"Okay boys, I'm leaving for a bit of work, but there's more snacks in the cupboards and there's frozen pizzas in the freezer," she explains, hurriedly heading out the door.

We walk down the hall to his door, covered in an array of posters from Panic! at the Disco to Fallout. He opens the door and walks inside, instantly going to his record collection.

"So, watcha like?" He says, still facing the vinyls.

"Um, I don't, uh, I don't really care," I say, feeling like I'm just being a bother, so I curl myself and hunch my back.

"Oh! This one's amazing, you ever listened?" He says excitedly, holding up an Against Me! Album, Transgender Dysphoria Blues. I choke on air at the thought of that car ride. That wasn't supposed to happen, it just did.

"Alright, I dont know if that means yes or no, but I'm just gonna find another album. He flips through, not quite sure exactly what he wants to choose. Until he lifts up an album by the band we all know as Queen. He lifts it up high in front of the window so the glow of the sun makes the album look like a gift from the gods. He hums an angelic tune as he holds it up in glory. I giggle at his stupid face. God, he's so dumb.

He plays the record, instantly dancing along to the beat as if he's at a concert, head jerks and arm flailing included.

I sit on his carpeted floor, thinking about last night again. The sound of music is slowly drowned out by my inner thoughts. Why did I do it? Why did I have that dream? Why am I so fucked up? What would he say if he knew? How am I supposed to stay here with our blurting it out? Why am I the worst?

"Hey," I hear a soft voice say, I'm shaken out of the trance and I see him, "come dance with me," he says, smiling. The record has now changed to a Cat Power album, playing Sea of Love. I smile, remembering the good times we had at the Tipsy Tomato.

"I don't know, I'm not really a big dancer-," I say nervously before he takes my hand and hoists me up. I begin to stumble over from the sudden action, but he catches me, in his big, stiff arms. He giggles and pulls me into a spin, catching my hand as I'm suddenly stopped.

"Okay, now you're gonna move your feet like this," says, moving his feet left to right in a slow steady motion, "then you wrap you arm," he stops, taking my hand and guiding it around his waist, "there," he smiles looking up at me. I don't think I've ever realized how tall I am compared to him until just now, and it's real fuckin' cute.

"Okay, now I put my hand here," he says wrapping it around my neck. Fuck, I can feel the tension in the room.

"Now we just, uh... feel the song," he says softly, laying his head on my chest. We sway back and fourth in unison, I lay my lips atop his head, the smell of him filling my breath. I want him to lift his head up and just kiss me already.

As if that was his cue he lifts his head up to talk: "Scott, I really like you," he says, staring into my eyes.

"I like you too," I say back, smiling.

"No, but I really like you," he repeats his last statement, his grip around me becoming tighter and his body getting closer.

"I like you," I say, my hands squeezing his sides. He giggles, his head landing on my chest.

He looks up at my again, the widest grin on his face before he continues, "no, but I re-"

I interrupt him when I place my lips on his, the warmth of his face engulfing mine. It wasn't long before his rough hands gently reach the side of my face, while the other pulls my head even closer toward him.