How It Goes - Part 6
#6 of How It Goes
We are getting closer and closer to the point where I actually will be writing descriptive erotica.
Such horror.
When I wrote this part of the story, I spent a lot of time reaching into the deeper confines of my darker side.
As such, this part is rather personal to me.
As noted in the previous part: sadly, this sombre part of the story will not end just yet. So I ask for your patience.
Please enjoy.
The morning haze is broken abruptly by two shrieks in the outside hallway. Groaning, Scott rubs his eyes as the bedroom door opens, Mr. Oliver looking flustered.
"Morning, dad," Scott grumbles.
"Scott, look, I," Mr. Oliver blurts out, "It's ... it's fine that you have your friends staying over, but for goodness sake, do ask them to lock the bathroom door."
"Huh?" Scott murmurs, covering his head.
"Oh, never mind, just... I'll have your breakfast ready in fifteen, do you know if your friend takes beans with his bacon?"
"No idea, why don't you ask him?"
"I'd much rather not," he mutters, flustered.
The sound of footsteps walking away from the bedroom door is shortly followed by, "You awake?"
"Barely... why the screams?"
"I, uh. Might have forgotten to lock the bathroom door."
"Dad told me. What were you doing?"
"Nothing." Theo sits down at the end of the bed.
"You both screamed over nothing?"
"Yeah, okay, not nothing, I was... I got really excited last night and, well, I had that... ache when I woke up. Only I could've sworn I locked the door."
"Muh?" Scott shifts and pulls the blanket up to his chin, burying his face in the pillow.
"He... he walked in on me wanking," Theo explains, looking away embarrassedly.
Scott snorts. Theo scoots alongside the bed and starts rubbing Scott between the ears. "Did you sleep well?"
"My eyes are tired," Scott yawns, nuzzling Theo's arm. "Dad wondered if you ate beans with your bacon."
"Oh, he's fixing breakfast? I'm starving."
"I am too." Scott grits his teeth and sits upright. He yawns, and lets out a soft yelp as Theo pulls him into a hug. "You found your clothes, then?"
"Your dad gave them to me."
Scott nods and buries his face in the mane of Theo's neck.
"Breakfast?"
Scott nods again.
"Eat up, you two," Mr. Oliver says, rising from the table with his empty plate in hand. "Scott, Jerry, Brian's uncle, he called about an hour ago. Said that you could move into the new apartment on Tuesday. They're cleaning the apartment today and tomorrow."
Scott nods, mouth full of food, watching Theo wolf down a second serving.
"I'll be gone today," he continues. "I'm going to get the keys to your apartment from Jerry, then I'm driving up to Atherton to visit your aunt, you'll have the house for yourself."
"Aunt Gayle? Why?"
"I need to borrow her car. Means we can do the moving in one trip instead of three. And I haven't seen her in a while. I should be back home by tonight. You two tidy up, okay?"
"Of course, dad. When are you leaving?"
"Just need to get my phone and I'm off. Call me if you need me."
They watch Mr. Oliver leave the kitchen. Theo groans as he finishes his plate. "Mmph, hells yes. Bacon. How much tidying do we have to do?"
"Just dishes into the dishwasher, scrub the pans, that sort of stuff. I can do it, I'm used to it." Scott collects his empty plate, starting toward the sink. Mr. Oliver appears in the doorway, clad in his coat with car keys in hand.
"Scott, I... I might stay the night, just so you know. If I'm not home by evenfall, I'll be home tomorrow, okay?"
"Yeah, of course. I'll be fine on my own. Have a good trip, dad."
"Ta." The sound of the front door being locked follows the screech of Theo's chair being pushed along the floor.
"So, house to yourself," he says, following Scott's lead. They rinse the dishes and put them into the washer.
"Yeah. Been a while since that happened... You wanna do something?"
"Whatever's fine with me, really. Only... well, I was supposed to hang with the guys today at Colton's."
"Oh. Right." Scott looks over at Theo, his ears splaying and shoulders slumping.
"I don't have to go," Theo adds rapidly. "Was mentioned yesterday, s'all, they're all meeting up. I'll just not go."
"I don't want to keep you from your friends," Scott replies softly. He grabs the scrub brush, setting to work on the pan.
"If they ask, I'll just tell them I'm... I'm with my ... boyfriend," he finishes, reluctantly. Scott looks over his shoulder as the bear sighs heavily, putting the dishes into the washer. He smiles weakly, and continues the scrubbing.
"Looks good." Brian pats Scott on the shoulder as they gaze into his new bedroom. The bed's placed snugly up in the corner, his desk to the right, bookshelf within arms reach of the chair. A simple commode stands in the last remaining corner. "Looking forward to this?"
"Yeah," Scott says, leaning into Brian. "It's a bit frightening."
"Reckon it'll be scary, being alone the first couple of days," Brian nods, as he turns them both around, marching towards the sofa. "You should invite Theo to stay with you, maybe. Or Tom."
"Have you seen Tom around? Only I haven't seen him at school at all."
"Nope..." Brian shakes his head slowly. "I tried calling him, but I think he's ignoring me."
"I tried calling last night, I got no response either." Brian sits down in the couch and pulls Scott into his lap.
"Well, he's a big boy, he can take care of 'imself, right?"
"I'm still worried..."
Brian nuzzles between his ears and rubs his neck. "Wish I could stay tonight, but I have to get to my evening shift."
The doorbell rings. Scott slips out of Brian's lap to answer, finding his father. "The last of your boxes. Two more in the car, if you could help?"
"Yeah, of course."
"I'll walk down with you," Brian says, fetching his coat.
Scott wakes up to the cacophony of his phone ringing, sweating madly. Shivering, he reaches out to the desk, grabbing his phone. Tom's calling.
"Tom?" He whispers, looking around the dark room. There's a sniffle, drowned out by thunder.
"I need help, Scott," Tom whimpers. "Are you home?"
"I'm at my new apartment. Where are you?"
"Where is that?"
"Close to the tennis courts. 5th Bainton Road? Where are you, Tom?"
"Can you meet me at the courts? Please..."
Scott lowers his head. "Yeah, of course I can. I'll be there shortly."
"Thanks," Tom chokes, before hanging up. Scott stares at his phone for a while before he slips out of bed, reaching for his trousers.
Soaked and shivering, Scott stands inside the bus shelter on the corner of the courts, watching the occasional cab drive past. The snow is washed away by the heavy downpour. He checks his clock: four in the morning, less than five hours before he's to be in class. Biting his lip, he glances around.
A small shape is huddling along the road, clinging to a soaked jacket. "Tom?"
"Scott," the otter replies, running towards him. He slips on a patch of slush, crashing face-first on the pavement. Scott hurries over to Tom, and helps him up.
"Let's get to the apartment," Scott huffs, looking both ways. "Come on, let's hurry."
Tom remains quiet as they run across the road, taking a right at the junction, down the gentle hill. When they arrive at the building, Scott leads Tom up a set of stairs, finds his keys, and opens the door. The warmth of the apartment greets them in stark contrast to the winter chill outside, and they enter without hesitation. Scott slips out of his coat.
"Here," he gestures to Tom for his coat too; Tom says nothing, and hands it over. Scott throws both coats into the shower, before returning to the otter.
Tom's sat in the couch, arms wrapped around his legs. "Tom, what's going on?"
"My parents," Tom croaks, burying his face into his knee. "They... they kicked me out of the house."
Slipping into the seat next to Tom, Scott bites his lip. "What? Why?"
"They..." Tom sniffles, taking a breath. "They found out I was gay."
Scott says nothing. Tom shivers as the sound of pounding rain is all that accompanies them. Slowly, he continues: "It was Brian's text. My sister stole my phone, rummaged through it. Found his text about what happened on... on New Years. She showed it to my parents. They got really angry. We fought. They said I wasn't their son, and told me to go... to go..."
The rest of the sentence breaks apart as Tom starts sobbing. Scott scoots closer and lays an arm around the otter; Tom responds with a hug, tears trickling down Scott's shirt. "I don't want to sleep alone."
Scott blinks, running a paw down the otter's back. "What do you...?"
"I'm tired," Tom continues, his voice slowing down. "Please, Scott. Can we share a bed? Please?"
"Of course we can," Scott says, nuzzling the back of his head. "Always."
"You look like shite," Cecil says merrily as Scott meanders out of the school grounds.
"Yeah, thanks," Scott replies flatly, stifling yet another agonising yawn.
"Didn't sleep?"
"Got woken up at four in the morning. Didn't get a chance to sleep after."
"Figured. You looked like you fell asleep during history."
"I did," Scott says, slightly ashamed.
"What happened, if you don't mind me asking?"
"Friend needed help."
"That's noble of you." Scott rolls his eyes, while Cecil snickers. "Was going to ask if you wanted to get a burger or something, but you probably should get some rest, yeah?"
"Wouldn't say no to food."
"Great! 'Cause I found this place down by uni..."
"You seem happier," Cecil remarks, finishing his serving of fries.
"I do?"
"Yeah. I mean, you look bloody tired, but your eyes aren't as glum. I like it."
"Yeah, thanks. Got around to talking with people."
"I never had a chance to ask, but you were... upset when that bear talked to us at Atomic. Teddy or whatever."
"He's the guy I'm seeing."
"Yeah, I figured that much. Did you get that sorted, or?" Cecil looks slightly away.
"We did," Scott says, taking a sip from his drink.
"Well... that's good." Cecil smiles and sighs into his drink. "Sorry, I'm just... a bit jealous."
"It's okay." Scott yawns, blinking furiously as he rubs his eyes. "So what do you do? You mentioned football, but that was when you were younger."
"Heh, don't laugh now, okay?" Cecil grins. "I dance."
"Really?"
"Yep. Ballet, contemporary, jazz. I do a mean arabesque."
"How long have you been...?"
"Only three years. Was fifteen when my mum let me actually start going."
"Why wouldn't she let you go in the first place?"
"'My dad," Cecil shrugs. "Homophobic cunt. He hated the fact that my mum made me play the piano. He wanted me to do drums, guitar, bass. My mum was adamant about the piano. You would never meet more stubborn people."
Scott snickers, before he yawns. "I always wanted to learn how to play the piano myself. Or the guitar. Some instrument..."
"You should come over some time, I'd be happy to teach you the basics."
"I think I'd like that." Scott rubs his eyes, sighing. "I'm sorry, I'm exhausted."
"Don't worry about it. You don't have to stay, you should get some rest."
"You sure?"
"Positive." Cecil smiles, albeit a bit weaker than usually.
"Okay, I'll just go pay."
"No, no, no, none of that. It's on me."
"Again?"
"Yep. Don't worry about it, mate, go get some rest."
Scott smiles as he grabs his coat and his backpack. "I'll see you tomorrow. Thanks, Cecil."
"No worries, Scott."
Scott finds Tom curled up on the couch, arms wrapped around his legs. "You okay? Did you sleep well?"
"I don't remember."
"Have you eaten?"
"I haven't left the apartment."
"Oh. Of course not, you don't have a key..."
"I don't know the streets here either."
"There's a grocery at the corner of the street." Scott leaves his backpack in the bedroom, throwing a longing glance at the bed. "I bought some bread and jam, let me fix you something."
"You bought honey sunflower," Tom says, almost with a whimper, as Scott hands him his dish.
"It's your favourite, isn't it?"
Tom nods and snatches the dish from Scott's hands. He consumes the first slice in two bites, moaning quietly. Scott smiles as he nibbles on his own slice.
"You're the best," Tom mutters, mouth full of food.
"I thought you might need a pick-me-up."
Tom swallows and looks at Scott for a moment. Then he turns his gaze down to his lap. "You're too good a friend. I don't deserve this."
Scott bites his lip. "Why do you say that?"
"I never was a good friend to you. I fucked up everything. Brian hates me. Not even my family wants me."
Scott lowers his head too. "You've always been a good friend, Tom. You've always spent time with me, and never made fun of me..."
Tom remains silent. Scott feels a yawn coming on, and fails to stifle it.
"Sorry," Tom mutters.
"What for?" Scott groans, rubbing his eyes.
"For waking you up last night."
"Don't worry about it. I'm just exhausted."
"You should get some sleep," Tom mutters guiltily.
"I think I should. If you want, you could plug in the telly and the consoles, they're in a box in the hallway."
"I guess. Dunno if I'm up to it." Tom sniffles. "I just want to curl up and die."
Scott lets out a soft sigh, halfway between exasperation and pity. He walks over to the otter and embraces him. Trembling, Tom clings to Scott, a sobbing sound in his throat.
"I don't want to be alone," Tom whimpers. "I can't stop thinking, it makes me mad. I hate it, Scott."
"It's okay, Tom... look, let me just go brush my teeth and we can go to the bedroom so I can lie down. Please."
Head pressing against Scott's chest, Tom nods and lets go.
Scott's splayed across his bed, sighing in relief; Tom is laying on his side, curled up.
"Why couldn't you have been my first?" Tom says quietly. Scott grunts drowsily.
"Huh?"
"Why couldn't it have been you on New Years instead of Brian?" Tom stirs and presses his head up against Scott's chest. "You get somebody who tries, and I get... I don't even get anyone, I just get fucked and abandoned."
There's a hint of rage in Tom's voice. Scott remains silent.
"Why couldn't I have feelings for you instead? You're lucky, Scott. You and Brian cuddling, and I never... he never bothered with me. Not sober." Scott feels his chest grow slightly damp, and in the pale light from the window Tom's face is glistening with tears. Slowly, Tom crawls on top of Scott, their stomachs aligned.
"You're amazing, Scott," Tom whispers, his breaths hard and fast. Scott feels Tom's crotch press against his own, and he stirs too. Tom shifts until their noses touch. He parts his lips, his tongue brushing against Scott's maw, slowly descending until their lips lock.
They break the kiss.
Their eyes meet.
...
They burst into laughter.
"Oh god," Tom guffaws, rolling off of Scott.
"I don't think that world going to work." Scott shakes with laughter as he buries his face in his paws.
"My boner just withered and died," Tom says embarrassedly, the chuckle still in his throat.
"Yours too?" Scott huffs. The laughter slowly dies.
"Greatest hard-on destroyer of the year." Tom scoots up to Scott again and hugs him. Scott feels the laughter in his throat die down, and he yawns. Tom hums quietly, a simple note. "It felt like I was kissing my brother."
"I felt the same way," Scott nods.
"Is that how you feel about...?"
"Yeah." Scott nuzzles Tom's head quietly. "Both of you."
"Wish I did too. About... about Brian, I mean..."
Scott nuzzles the top of Tom's head, and hugs him a little bit tighter.