Joe’s cheeks burned red as he jostled his friend back. “Do I look gay, man? How the hell would I know?”
Kyle seethed as Brent flashed an evil grin and walked over with a carton of milk, emptying the contents onto his head, adding to the sludge of embarrassment. He steeled his stomach as it made an unhealthy roll. He’d passed on breakfast this morning but he had a feeling he’d pass on dinner too…maybe just passing on food altogether. He moved in the rubbish, gagging as a whiff of fresh garbage filled his nostrils.
He should have been used to it…everyday, after third period, Joe Woods and his band of jocky idiots would corner him and figure out some way to completely ruin his day. Usually it was just running him into a locker, knocking his books on the ground, or chunking Starbucks on him, but they were especially imaginative today. Today, they brought out the big guns.
Finding strength as he finally steadied himself, rising to his feet, Kyle realized he was wrong as he sunk back into the dumpster letting out a yip of surprise and frustration.
Brent, a mass of muscles, blonde hair, and an endless fountain of NFL stats let out a guffaw that made Kyle's blood boil. 'Did we mess up your designer jeans, fag?'
His name calling barely fazed Kyle. He'd known he was gay since, well, forever. But when Joe joined the chorus of chuckles, Kyle bit back a sob.
Not Joe…not after all they’d done. Not after he looked forward to their hookups, always carting around a container of lube, just in case.
'Aww,' Brent goaded, his green eyes narrowing. 'Are you gonna cry, bitch?'
Kyle struggled to the rim of the dumpster, daggers shooting from his eyes. Joe saw the look and stopped laughing immediately. His strong, angular face went blank and he shot his blue eyes downward in shame.
Good, Kyle thought with a small measure of satisfaction. It immediately faded away as a rush of tears burned his eyes. He should feel guilty for what he let his friends do.
It was pretty obvious that Brent didn't feel the same contrition. Kyle's look of defiance made him ball a fist.
Kyle squeezed his eyes shut, gearing up for a blow to the face.
'Nah, man,' Joe's husky voice cut in. He shoved his bonehead friend back. 'He’ll tell. Or report you.”
Brent sneered, shooting Kyle a look that made him gulp. “No you won’t, right, Kyla?”
Kyle bristled preparing to tell him that he was planning on making a detour to the principal’s office, but Joe finally put an end to all of it, roping up his friends.
“Let’s just head back in,” he told them. He ain’t worth it.'
Kyle watched them hustle inside. Joe cast one look over his shoulder. A look that betrayed the truth. Kyle grimaced as he stumbled out of the mouth of the dumpster. His clothes were stained with food and debris, but it didn't compare to how he felt on the inside. What good was the truth when Joe was still at the top of Gray Central's totem pole and he barely scraped by on the bottom? What good were his kisses and promises when he clearly had no problem letting his friends bully him during the day and fucking him in the locker room in between classes?
With one final snarl of anger, Kyle pushed back into the school building. He was glad today was gym and he had a change of clothes in his locker. He knew a tardy for fourth period would earn him detention, but he was kinda glad the halls were deserted and no one had to witness his walk of shame.
'Hey Kyle, wait up!'
Kyle kept walking, his back taut.
“Kyle!' Joe’s voice was urgent.
Kyle nibbled his lip as he turned down a corridor, hoping Joe would get the message. He rolled his eyes as he spun his lock, hearing the sound of Joe's sneaks against the marble floor.
Joe clapped him on the back, a buddy pat just in case someone popped out of one of the classrooms that lined the back hall. When no one appeared in the hallway, he let his hand trail down to Kyle’s ass, giving it a slap that made Kyle’s cock thump in his pants. “Didn’t you hear me calling you?”
Kyle said nothing.
'You ignoring me?' Joe said, slight hurt in his voice.
Kyle slammed his locker shut. 'Sorry. I couldn't hear you over the cafeteria food stuck in my ears.'
'About that-'
Kyle held up a hand. 'Save it.'
Joe’s sky blue eyes flashed. “Don’t be like that.”
Kyle crossed his arms. “Don’t be like what, Joe? Cold? Stuck up? Don’t pretend like there’s nothing between us?” He shook his head with loathing. “Why the hell shouldn’t I pretend? You do such a great job with it.”
Joe reached out and brushed his cheek. Kyle cursed his body. It instantly snapped to attention at Joe’s touch, an uncomfortable swelling growing in his jeans.
“I’m sorry,” Joe whispered. He glanced around them then yanked Kyle to the side corridor, out of sight. It was just he and Joe-the quarterback and the art geek.
Kyle’s breath caught in his throat as Joe cupped his chin, willing him to look him dead on. “You know it’s all bullshit. You know how I feel about you.”
“Do I now?” Kyle said sarcastically.
Joe rolled his eyes. “It’s just smoke and mirrors.”
Kyle pulled away, his shaggy brown hair dusting into his eyes. “Whatever you need to tell yourself, man. Whatever helps you get by.”
“You don’t think I care about you?” Joe’s shoulders squared as he pressed Kyle against the wall. He smelled like sweat and body spray and the syrupy scent of shampoo. Kyle felt his erection against his abdomen. He had one of his own, tugging at the seams.
“Call me crazy,” Kyle said, ignoring his body’s carnal reaction, “But generally when someone cares about a person, they don’t let their friends treat them like crap.”
Joe took a step back, gripping his hair in frustration. “I can’t control them, Kyle. They’re idiots.”
“They’re your friends,” Kyle said pointedly. “What does that say about you if you hang out with idiots?”
“I’m not their keeper,” Joe said with a shrug.
“That’s real mature,” Kyle said with a snort. “We’re both adults here, Joe. Eighteen years old. Why don’t you take some responsibility for your actions and stop acting like a damn infant?”
He held his gym bag tight to his side as he breezed toward the locker room. Once inside, he angrily threw the bag on a bench and kicked off his chucks. What he needed was a good long shower. Maybe he could covertly call it a day and camp out in Starbucks before school let out.
He froze when he felt Joe come up behind him, running his calloused fingers down his side. He and Joe were polar opposites. Joe was a beefcake, with caramel brown skin, compliments of football and track. His body was rippled with muscles that made Kyle's mouth water. His face was strong and handsome, with a tease of dimples when he smiled, sky blue eyes and curly dark ringlets.
Kyle had a lean figure, a result of years of ballet. His features were softer, with large set green eyes and waifish hair. His thick lips seemed out of place with his other gentle features but they were perfect for kissing, among other things.
“Just go away, Joe.”
'I'm sorry,” Joe’s voice was insistent. “You have to believe me.”
Kyle wanted to, but he remained quiet.
'It's not so easy for me,' Joe explained. 'I'm not you.'
Kyle stepped away from him. 'It’s a brave new world and I’m not the first or only gay guy at Creighton High. This whole doe eyed, living in the 1900’s shit is getting old.'
'Yeah, but you promised you'd give me until freshman year. I can be whoever I want in college.'
'Puhlease,' Kyle snorted, unzipping his fly. 'You'll go to State and become some football frat boy douche…and maybe I'll find someone who'll let me hold his hand in public.' He pulled off his sticky t-shirt, then his pants. 'Just go fuck a cheerleader or make fun of some handicapped kid. It's what you do best.'
Kyle twisted the hot faucet on and stood under the stream. He cocked his head to the side when he heard the curtain snap to the side.
'What the-'
'There's one other thing I do best,' Joe said thickly.
Kyle's protests were silenced when Joe's hand stroked his dark hair and pressed his soft lips against his. It
