Teach Me To Be Gay (BoyxBoy)

Part Eleven

"Boo!"

Obviously something as childish as Kade screaming at me at God knows what hour it is of the morning would never make me scream. But that accompanied with Kade jumping on top of me would. Especially since I'm not even given any warning and fuck it, I'm still supposed to be asleep.

Trust Kade to think of a creative way to wake a boy up in the morning.

"Kade, get the fuck off me, man." I kick, slap and punch, still half asleep. All of my attempts are futile. But you can't blame a man for trying.

Instead of listening to my plea, he places a peck on my lips, and I don't know how this happens, but suddenly I'm straddling Kade, pinning his arms to the bed above his head, and kissing him shameless. What a nice way to wake up in the morning.

 "Mate," he breathes, once I pull back from the kiss, "I think I'm the one that needs to be taught to be gay." I smirk and get off of him, collapsing on the bed beside him.

"Whatever, mate." I close my eyes for a second, deciding to take a breather for a minute.

But heck, Kade would never be so kind to let me do that now, would he? "Nuh uh uh." He tuts at me, and then I feel him grabbing at my arm and hoisting me up off the bed.

"What the fuck, dude?" I wipe at my eyes, not bothering to stifle a yawn. So maybe a good morning kiss isn't enough to wake me up for the day, after all.

"You are not staying in bed all day!" The words remind me of our conversation yesterday.

"Tell me about you Kade, everything about you. Every. Single. Thing."

He sighs, as if that'd faze me. I just sit and stare at him for a while and when he sighs again and starts speaking, I think he gets the point. "What do you want to know?"

"Like I told you; everything." He looks unsure of where to start, so I give him a little idea. As much as I don't wanna see him sad, I wanna know everything and if that means learning the shit as well as the happy, I'll do it. So, I tell him, "Tell me about the crash."

His eyes widen and I can tell that he really doesn't want to talk about it. It makes sense. I wouldn't want to talk about it either, but we have to start somewhere. And as far as I'm concerned, the crash is his earliest memory, at five years old. It sucks though, 'cause he doesn't remember anything to do with his parents... or his baby sister. Maybe this wasn't a good idea.

I'm snapped out of my daze when he speaks again; "Ya know, you can't just stay in bed all day."

I should've known he'd try something like this. "Yes Kade, yes I can. You can too. We can. And we will."

And so, that's what we do.

Obviously as he told me of what happened, I had cried a little. Not ashamed to admit it, because it's true. And of course, as he told the story of the crash, I remember him having to wipe my eyes and me thinking 'Isn't this the wrong fucking way around?'. I guess I was mad at myself. I should've been wiping his tears, he shouldn't have been wiping mine.

A slap to my face and I'm out of my reverie. "What was that for?"

Completely ignoring my question, he puts on a smile and says; "We're going somewhere tonight." Of course, this only leads to more questions.

"Where?"

After a minute or so of standing there, eyes locked in a staring contest, I raise one eyebrow.

"Yes?" Ever innocent, his voice reaches my ears, and I watch as his lips move to form the sweet sound, willing myself not to get distracted.

"Where?"

"Where what?"

"Where are we going?"

"Oh, you'll see." He winks at me, and with that, I tackle him back onto the bed, straddling him immediately.

I smirk as he squirms under me, but stop as I feel something brush against my thigh... Aah, fuck you, Kade. I act like I'm not completely turned on right now (which is more difficult than it may sound) and lean forward, relishing the feel of my fingertips brushing against the skin of his bare chest... as I begin to tickle him.

He squims under me, giggling like a lunatic as his body writhes and wriggles. And yes, this does cause his little 'problem' to keep, repeatedly rubbing against my thigh, and yes, I struggle from holding back and kissing him right then. And Hell, I don't know if I'm ready to think of what that could lead to.

"Get off me, Justie!" He squeals from beneath me, but I continue to move my fingers over his chest as if I didn't hear him - which would be impossible with how loud he was screaming.

"Tell me where we're going!"

"Fine, fine, fine!" He sounds like a twelve year old, but for some reason, it's cute.

I get off him, glad he's surrendered, even though I wouldn't have minded staying like that a little longer.

"Tell me."

"Kiss me."

I groan, although I'd oblige any day. And so I lean forward, and give him a small peck on the lips. And when I pull back, he complains immediately, with something as small as; "Nuh uh uh." So, I lace my hands together, entangled in his hair, and bring his face forward, crashing our lips together, and letting our tongues meet immediately. Our lips move in perfect sync and I can feel my arousal becoming a more significant problem and so, I do the unthinkable. I pull away.

"Tell me."

He looks at me, inhales deeply, and says, "Catch me!" before running out the door and to God knows where. And yes, he did just start a chasing match... in only our boxers.

But Hell, I will find out where the boy's taking me.