soccer season ♂ freethelgbt

0;02 ♂ flirt attempts and greasy burger crap

CHAPTER TWO:

‘in which a McDonalds drive-thru attendant attempts to flirt with your main character’

    WIDE EYES AND MOUTH SLACK, Steven’s brother scrambled up after kicking off the heels and skilfully ducked past his older brother, who stood nailed to the ground. For a minute he stared at the spot Chris sat. In a skirt. And heels. When he realized he might’ve made a big mistake letting Chris run away, Steven turned on his heels and took off running to his brother’s room, nausea long forgotten and replaced by something he couldn’t place.

“Chris!” He shouted, pounding on the door. It wasn’t the best approach, but his mind was set on different things. Like, why he didn’t find it the slightest bit weird his little brother was wearing girls clothes. “Chris, please! Open the door!”

“No, you’re gonna hurt me!” He screamed back, voice trembling. Steven felt a pang in his heart at his words. The boy was so scared, he couldn’t even face his own brother.

“I’m not gonna hurt you, Chris,” he said, softly speaking through the door. He could hear sniffling from inside, but also quiet footsteps approaching him. The door squeaked and opened, half of Chris’ face appearing through the crack, tears staining his cheeks.

“Promise?”

Steven smiled sadly and nodded. Chris wiggled his arm through the gap and held out his pinkie, linking it with Steven’s, before opening the door. He quickly walked to the bean bag chair and fell onto it, leaving Steven to sit on the small bed.

“So…”

Chris remained quiet, not knowing what to say. How do you explain things, when you don’t even understand them yourself?

“Buddy. Hey, it’s okay,” Steven leaned forward, putting his hand on his brother’s shoulder, who started to cry again, little sniffles taking over the uncomfortable silence in the room.

“Do you want to tell me about it?” Steven got up, walking over to the bean chair and sitting in front of it, hands on Chris’ knees, cross-legged on the carpet. Chris slowly nodded, wiping his hands under his eyes and sniffing once more, before looking up at Steven with blood-shot eyes.

“I just don’t like boys clothes,” he stated, voice weak. His eyebrows furrowed as he played with the edges of the skirt he was still wearing. It fell past his knees, soft pink fabric framing his skinny legs as it sagged in between them. He looked down again, biting his lips in anticipation for his older brother’s reaction.

“Oh, Chrissie,” Steven sighed, rubbing his brother’s head. “Why didn’t you tell mom and me, sooner?”

Chris shrugged, putting his thumb in between his lips and biting on the nail, “I don’t know. I’m scared of daddy, though.” The boy looked up at Steven with wide eyes filled with angst. They shifted from his own eyes to the wall, the floor and back again. 

“It’s gonna be alright, okay? Let’s tell mom later, I’ll help you, if you want,”  Steven suggested, shooting a small smile at his brother, who looked back up at him from where his eyes had lingered on the ground, and nodded.

“Okay,” Chris smiled again, grateful that his brother didn’t hit him or called him names. He hoped he would tell no one. Except for his mother, because he was going to tell her. And maybe Darren, because Darren was cool.

Steven got up and ruffled his brother’s hair, before walking towards the door. He turned around just before he walked out, winking at his brother. “By the way, that skirt totally fits you.”