Some of you probably read my story "Perfection", so I'm back with another single episode story called "Flawless". Really no coincidence in the names intended, but I just turn out stories like that. I don't know, some things just happen. This story is very dark and not cheerful at all. As always, most of my stories come from personal experience, but names are always changed.
Write e-mail comments, I'm glad to hear what you think, especially about this one. I can basically guarentee I'll respond to you, but sometimes school gets me down and I don't have time. But I'll make a genuine effort, I'll promise you that.
And thank you to all of you who did write me, it was very much appreciated and it's great to hear from you. This will have grammar and spelling mistakes. Don't expect perfection (again, no joke) and it definitely won't be flawless.
gking0301@aol.com
Story is fiction based more or less on actual events. All names have been changed to protect the identity of the characters. If you aren't eighteen, you're not technically supposed to be here, but can I do anything about that?
Flawless (1)
I was watching him out of the corner of my eye. He stood tall, about six foot or a little over. He had strikingly deep blue eyes and a beautiful face, one you could get lost looking at, such as I later realized I had done so often. He had long brown hair which had a habit of falling in front of his eyes giving him his seductively handsome look. He was quiet, and when he spoke, his voice was low and comforting. His laugh was beautiful and his teeth lined up perfectly, always white and bared through his earthshattering smile. He moved across the library carrying that old backpack, his letter jacket slung over one shoulder casuall, as if an afterthought.
James usually wore slightly faded jeans and stylishly worn and ripped shirts. I turned my head bit by bit, tracking his progress through the crowded library. He smiled and waved to his friends, and I turned my attention back to my book.
"This seat taken?"
I looked up and smiled disarmingly. "My feet were enjoying it until you showed up. But I defer to the wildly popular high school mascot. Have a seat James."
He gave me one of his beautiful smiles and ignored the sarcasm dripping from my words. "The library's pretty full today, huh?"
Way to state the obvious. I nodded without looking up, buried in my lengthy and incredibly boring 'History of Ancient Africa' book. I watched as his eyes surveyed me for a few minutes.
"Studying?"
I nodded again and turned a page. Not because I was finished with the last one, or that I wanted to read the next one. Just a gesture to let him know that I was busy and did not desire conversation. I felt a pressure in my wrists as he put a finger on the spine of my book and abruptly pressed it to the table. "That book can't be more interesting than talking to me, can it? I guess I'm not the most eloquent or verbally knowledgeable guy, but geez, reading a history book over talking to me really hurts, man."
You have to give it to him, this guy was straightforward. "Well, I do have a test tommorow that I've got to study for, and I'm surprised you're still around school. I figured you'd be practicing for the game against Central tommorow."
He shrugged and pulled an identical red book out of his bag. "I'm not that much of a dumbshit Matt, I take History of Africa too, and we don't have a test tommorow. If you don't want to talk to me, let me know."
I continued to read, flipping another page.
"You're just like you were when we went to Brookridge together," he said angrily, a touch of frustration permeating his steady voice. "You never talked to me, you dropped me once we got to Junior High. At least acknowledge that I'm of the same species."
"Oh is that how it was, I dropped you? I believe we were pretty good friends until you found football. I think, if you delve a little deeper into your primitive brain, you'll find that it was you that dropped me." He just had to go and bring back memories of gradeschool.
I picked up my papers and notebooks and shoved them into my bag. "Anyway, I have to go home and get dinner ready. Thanks for your pity party dude, call me if you break your leg or spine, or anything else cheerful happens." I pushed my chair in, leaving him half stunned at the table.
"Hey Matt, you've got to let go man."
I ignored him and left the library.
"Matthew, wait up." I turned and saw him running toward me. He was dressed in his usual stonewashed jeans and tight fitting name brand tee shirt. His hair was gelled and slicked back and he looked stunning as usual. I continued to unlock my car and ignore him.
"Matt, can I catch a ride?"
I shrugged and unlocked the passenger seat. "You can ride in the back and duck your head down when you see your friends," I offered nicely.
He smiled and took the front seat. "Hey, no reason to feel bad buddy, this is one sweet ride."
"It's not the car I'm talking about," I said, smiling wryly. "It's you being seen with me. It'll probably hurt your reputation a lot, so if you want to put a bag over your head or something."
I could tell that my snide comments were hitting home. "Jesus christ Matt, you don't need to talk to me like that. I'm sorry we didn't stay better friends through it all, but can you really blame me for all that? You ran off with pot smoking Leon for four years and I barely saw you without bloodshot eyes."
I laughed desipte myself as I recalled my years with Leon. "Yeah, if you knew half the things that went on between us, you'd shit your pants," I said truthfully. He probably would.
"So anyway, I wanted to get reacquainted with you, just see how you were doing," he said biting his fingernails and looking at me out of the corner of his eye. I pulled out of the drive and headed down the street toward our neighborhood.
We sat in silence, the gray houses and offices flying by. He looked at me a few times, a measured puzzled look on his handsome face, but no words. I turned into his driveway and cut the engine, plunging us into a very awkward silence. "So?"
His hand was poised on the latch to get out, but he just sat motionless. "Hey," he said finally, almost a whisper. "You want to come in and, you know, have a drink?"
I shrugged and got out of the car and we walked up the sidewalk to his door that had been so familiar to me. I pushed open the screendoor and he fumbled with his keys. "The lock still sticks, remember that?"
I nodded and smiled. "And you'd just keep cursing at it," I added as he opened the door and flicked on a light switch. I shut the door behind me and looked around. Yeah, the same white couch and white chairs, the same wooden table and dining seats, the same kitchen with the mounted wooden carvings his mother had meticulously arranged.
A perfect American home complete with pictures, each a year apart, of James. The pictures, in chronologic order, lined out his trip from boyish charm which slowly and surely melted into a genuine hearthrob in the final frame. Every strand of his hair always seemed perfectly in place and his blue eyes and perfectly aligned teeth never failed to attract attention. And I had to suffer through seeing his picture on the front page of the newspaper every time we won a game. His beautiful, smiling face.
"Want a beer?"
I laughed and nodded as he tossed me a cold brew. "As mischevious as always," I said. "Remember when we used to steal glasses of your dad's Bourbon?"
He smiled and took a measured sip of from his can. "And you got drunk, fell asleep, and started muttering about purple dinosaurs? I remember vividly. I also remember when you sleepwalked right into the bathroom door and broke your toe. That was all the same night, wasn't it?"
I tightened my hands around the can. "Yeah, that was five years ago," I said softly. "It's been a long time."
"Hey, shut up man, we're starting to sound like lovers or something," he joked, slapping me so hard I almost lost a grip on my drink. "Let bygones be bygones or however that shit goes. Academics have never been my strong point."
"I know," I joked, hitting him back. "They haven't been mine either. Remember, for most of my youth I've either been hanging out with knucklebrain like you or 'smoking my brains out' with Leon."
James looked at the ground and his eyes shifted a little. "I'm sorry I came down so hard on you for that. It's just that every time I saw you guys together, skipping school, smoking, whatever. I just felt jealous, like we belonged together, not you and that asshole. I missed us from when we were kids."
I blushed a little, but the dim light made it hard for him to see and I judged that he didn't notice. "Thanks James, it means a lot to me that you still see me as someone worthwhile. It's quite satisfying to find that one of the most popular guys in school finds you okay." I wasn't sarcastic, I was genuine.
"Thanks, but I'm not a god," he said, taking a gulp of beer and setting the empty can down on the kitchen counter. If he only knew.
"So, you want to go catch a movie or something tommorow night after I finish practice? I think we've got some catching up to do," he said casually, playing with the condensation rings on the smooth surface of the table. "And I want to get to know you better, like we did before."
"Sure, sounds great," I said, hoping it didn't come out as fast and excited as it sounded. "It would be neat," I added lamely, as an afterthought.
"Great, now how about some help on English?" he asked, giving me his best puppy dog eyes.
"How can I resist a face like that?" We began the traditional trek up to his room. I stopped halfawy up the stairs and ran my hands across the wall. "Dude, the scrape is still here."
He bent over next to me and gave a half snort laugh. "We never bothered to paint over it. It's just a reminder of us as kids I guess. Every time my mom goes up the stairs, she asks if I talk to you and when you're going to come over again. I guess she'll have a surprise when she comes back from work tonight."
He pushed the door open to his room and I was greeted by an exreme heat difference. I entered the warmth and comfort of his room and looked around. The same bookcases and bed as when I had last slept over at his house. The mobile of planes he had assembled and painted himself in third grade lazily stirred in the corner. He shut the door, and I sat down on his bed. It creaked just as it always had.
An orange Ibook sat open on the corner of his desk. Clutters of papers, pencils, team pictures and clothes lay strewn about the room, and a few pairs of discarded boxers hung in odd positions. I breathed in and couldn't help but smell his scent in the air. It was sharp and unique, masculine and comforting. His cologne mixed with the smell and I began to close my eyes, wishing I could spend eternity in this place.
I moved over to his desk, well aware that his eyes were fixed on me, unmoving. "Not much has changed," I said as I shuffled through his papers and odds and ends. I pushed some of the mess aside and put the book down. "Okay, so what do you need help on?"
"Hamlet?"
I nodded and opened to the page. "Do you want the Matthew the know it all version or the sum it up cliff notes version?"
He shrugged. "How about the, Matt writes my esasy for me version."
Would I do this for anyone else? God no.
I opened Word on his laptop and looked over at him. "You give me the basic idea of what you want written, and I'll tell you you're wrong and write something compeltely different. But with spelling errors and some confusing grammar so your teachers don't suspect you of plagerism."
"You're so nice to me," he said, shoving me over a little, forcing me to share the seat with him. I was suddenly aware of his body pressing against mine, the sweet smell enveloped my senses like incense and his grinning face and lips only inches from mine. "Well? How about we start with a modern approach. Like, Claudius didn't really kill Old Hamlet. You like?"
I moved a little in my seat as I felt his leg come to rest against mine. I shrugged and began typing, the nearness of him forcing me to concentrate on the essay, trying to control myself.
At one point during my typing, he reached across me and pulled a stack of papers from the corner of the desk, and the way he leaned over I swore he was going to kiss me. My heart rate and pulse jumped and my blood pressure threatened to pop my veins. I calmed myself down enough to continue writing about the drowning of Ophelia, when I felt his eyes move from the screen to my face.
I continued to write, my hands almost shaking as he leaned closer and closer. I jumped as I felt his hand touch my cheek. "Why don't you just kiss me, Matt. It would make this a lot easier."
I turned my face, and only then did I realize the proximity of him. His lips hovered only inches from mine, and his beautiful features were up close in my vision. He pushed a few strands of hair out of the way and I felt our lips touch. It was chaste and quick, but I could feel his emotions almost cutting through the air. I pulled back, and then thrust my tounge inbetween his lips, feeling him gasp in surprise. The warm dreamy sensation of his tounge searching the inside of my mouth took over my mind and I felt lightheaded.
He looked at me, a half smile hovering around his lips. "Don't say it Matt, I don't want to hear it," he said. "This is about me, not about us. This is about satisfaction, not about the 'l' word."
The 'l' word. Love. I nodded wordlessly as he pulled my shirt off. He undid my belt and pulled my pants down, and I watched as he turned me around to face the desk. I spread my legs without thinking, gripping the edge of the table as hard as I could, knowing what would happen. Dreading it, but wanting it more than anything.
I felt him press against me, and my vision turned red. I could feel him breathing heavily, and a sudden tightness and sickness spread through my body. Intense pain and pressure started to creep through my veins, and I tried concentrating on his hands massaging my sides as he pushed into me further and further. I was sweating hard, and I felt overheated and almost ready to die.
But suddenly, it stopped and my vision cleared. I shifted a little, getting used to his length and girth. I felt the pressure relieved as he pulled out a little, and push back tentatively. Like a bomb exploding, pleasure rushed to my brain and I shivered uncontrolably. My inside was on fire and I involuntarily moaned, wordlessly letting him know that now, he could do whatever he wanted.
He grabbed my hips and slammed me all the way back on his rigid rod, his pants almost becoming anamalistic as he pushed and pulled out of me, grunting my name every time he thrust in, and giving a small gasp every time he pulled back out. I brought my wrists together and brought my forehead down to meet them, breathing in and out, just concentrating on breathing. Finally, I felt his body tighten and his grip on my become unbearable. Raking down my back with his fingernails, I winced in pain as I felt his hot cum blast into me. I closed my eyes so tight tears appeared at the corners and ran down my cheeks. I felt my back begin to bleed slightly, and heard his breathing relax. I was still rigidly hard, but nothing mattered anymore.
"That was great Matt," he said breathlessly, pulling out of me quickly and collapsing into a chair. I felt the hot cum running down the inside of my legs, and the wetness of blood sliding down the abrasions on my back. I stood there with my boxers and pants around my legs, watching him breath. I winced in pain as the pleasure of having him orgasm inside me subsided. I hadn't cum, but I could take care of myself later.
I turned around and walked over to his bed, pulling up my pants and boxers. I shook uncontrollably, for no reason and sat down, pulling my legs to my stomach. Through my haze, I watched James come over and kiss me again, his hand painfully running across the deep scores on my back from his passionate clawing. I trembled at the pain, and watched as he quickly retracted his hands, seeing the blood on them.
"Oh my god Matt, did I?" he asked in almost a whisper.
I nodded and fought back a tear. "Can I have some bandaids, like five or six? Or maybe an entire box?" It sounded lame now that I think about it, but I was hurting really badly.
"I'm so fucking sorry Matt, I just got carried away, and I didn't know that I did that, I've never," he began to stumble over his words, but I shook my head. "Don't worry about it. It's just a scrape, I'll wash up at home."
I grabbed my shirt, continuing out of his room and down the stairs. I found it painful to walk, but I was too proud to fall to the ground and cry. I ran down the walk and yanked the car door open, fishing in my pocket for keys. I knew he wouldn't follow me, I knew I wasn't worth it to him.
I pulled out of his driveway and drove back toward my house.
I sat on my bed, my hair still dripping onto my pillow leaving a dark damp spot. I took two tylenol and put gauze pads on my back. Bittersweet Symphony played quietly from the corner, and the gray sky seemed to permeate the walls and press into me. I traced the mortar designs on the blank ceiling and watched the motionless blades of the ceiling fan. I wiped away a few tears, and attempted to move to my side, but shots of pain lanced through my back and I held still.
'That was great Matt.' For you maybe, I thought bitterly. This is too much like Leon, way too much.
And I turned over on my stomch, ignoring the pain and let my damp hair flop into my eyes. Maybe I deserve it.
The soft drumming on the roof announced the beginning of the quiet shower. It was a moderate, afternoon shower that washed away the gray and left the scene to a beautiful clear sunset. At least I had that together.
The rain ran down my window as I pondered why someone so flawless could be so cruel and now know it. How someone so beautiful and outwardly caring could be so harsh and demanding. And dead inside.
"It has to be flawless," he said underlining the word on the board so heavily that chalk dust flew. "There can't be one single mistake, do you guys understand?"
I watched as the class colectively nodded. "Alright, get lost for the day. I'll see you all tommorow. If you have any questions, don't bother to come in early, I have early practice to coach."
I grabbed my bag and pushed my chair in, collecting my binder and notebook.
"Matty."
I knew it was him even before his beautiful face had a chance to appear in my line of sight.
"What is it James?"
"Hey buddy, I got an A on my Hamlet essay, thanks again man," he said, giving me a wink. "Are we still on for that movie tonight?"
How could he act like nothing had happened? More importantly, how could he take all the hatred and hurt that I had built up inside, and with one smile, make me walk on the clouds. Against my better judgement, I nodded and smiled. "Sure, whatever you want buddy."
He shouldered his backpack and left the room. I stood awkwardly in front of the teacher before almost running to my locker. I shoved my books inside and grabbed he binders and folders I needed for the night.
I walked outside, reveling in the chilling air that assaulted my skin. A wind whipped up and russeled through the bare skeletons of the trees, void of all leaves. I took a moment, leaning against my car, to watch as the sun dodged behind its ever-present mask of dark clouds.
Someone up there really had it in for me.
"Matt, what's up?"
I looked and saw Rick leaning up against the heavy bookshelves. His hair, red for the time being, was short and spiky. He smiled crookedly and winked.
"Hey Ricky, what's going on?" I shifted my pile of Bradbury and Hemingway from one arm to the other.
"Nothing, I just saw you talking to James again. Are you guys friends all of a sudden or what?"
I shelved the stack of book I was reading and shot him a look. "No, we're just going to see a movie together, for old times sake. I felt the soreness in my ass and winced slightly. "For old times sake."
Rick nodded, but I could see the suspicion behind his eyes. "Just because I'm six years older than you are doesn't mean that I have to be your father, but you're making it pretty damn hard on me not to be. I'm tired of seeing you get fucked, literally, by guys that seem to crawl out of the woodwork, praying for a second chance."
I sighed and leaned against the shelf. "Well, Leon's second chance was different in nature's than James' second chance," I said thinking a little. But were they really? "And when have you become the expert on relationships, you're the one who hasn't even had sex yet."
He shrugged and shifted his weight from side to side and ran his fingers over the curling black tatoo across his bare shoulder. "So are you coming to my garage band-rehearsal tonight?"
"Shit Rick, I'm sorry man. James wanted me to see that movie with him tonight, but can I call you and make it up? I promise I will." God damn, why did I always have to forget these things?
I knew Rick was disappointed, but as a beautiful talented man and actor, he hid it perfectly. "Sure. Just give me a call and I'll set something up for another time."
I nodded and turned to leave, but I knew he was about to say something, so I paused. "Matt, some things are right in front of you, but you refuse to see them. You're a headstrong and stubborn man. Sometimes you unconciously ignore things that would make you happy because your afraid and unsure."
I bit my lip and acknowledged his words with a wry smile.
"Think with this," he said, pointing to his heart. "Not this," he said gesturing to his head. "And love is important. Do what you think is right. And remember that no matter how much you fuck up, I'll always be here for you."
"Thanks Rick, and I mean it," I said giving him a kiss on the cheek.
And god, if you weren't straight, we would be something together, I thought, watching him turn back to the shelf of books.
"So, good movie?" James asked toying with my hand as the credits began to roll.
I nodded and stood up. "Ready to leave?" I tried to stop, but I knew I was leading him on, I knew that I was asking for it. I was giving him the look, and he was so good at reading my expressions.
We walked out of the theater and into the night. I walked down the sidewalk, holding my coat close to my body. My breath blew in hazy clouds from my mouth and nose, and I could feel the color rushing to my cheeks. I watched as we walked in and out of the pale pools of light the streetlamps shed on the sidewalk. Snow began to fall softly around us, the silence pressing in, almost unbearable.
We drove home as the snow continued to fall. I turned toward the window and stared out as the freezing landscape whirled by in a blur.
At that moment, I knew I was in the wrong place, but there was nothing I could do.
I knocked on the door, checking my watch. God, two thirty in the morning. I adjusted my slightly torn shirt and, catching my reflection in the mirror next to the elevator, I buttoned my jacket over it. The door opened slowly.
Rick was tired, his hair was messy and his eyes still had sleep in them. His gray tank top was wet with sweat, and I could tell he hadn't changed since his rehearsal. His green eyes widened as he saw me and opened the door further to let me pass. "I'm not one to play guessing games, but was it James?"
I nodded wordlessly and collapsed on his couch. "We fucked again, not made love, we fucked. and it hurt."
I let the words hang in the silence for awhile before continuing. "I don't know Rick, I just seem to attract the assholes for some reason. I don't even like James, but he has this way of making me do whatever he wants whenever he wants. I don't have the self-resolve or the strength to fight back. I feel useless, small, insignificant, and mostly used." I sighed and threw my arms behind my head.
I felt Rick sit down next to me. "Don't say that Matt, you're a great guy. You're just a little confused. Remember, nothing comes easily. Someday, you're going to have to go against your knowledge and judgement, and do what your heart tells you. Let go, feel your instinct. It won't guide you wrong, I guarentee you."
I nodded and kicked my shoes off. He turned on the lamp on the end table that gave the room a cheerful warm glow. I felt better already, sitting next to him. I took my jacket off and draped if carefully over a nearby chair.
"Coffee?" he asked as he got up and walked toward the kitchen. "I have a feeling I won't be going back to sleep tonight, and I definitely want a strong cup."
"I'm sorry, I can leave if you want."
"Fucking get a life Matt, I've never thrown you out and I'm not about to start now. Just sit the fuck down and we'll talk this through. Stop apologizing for yourself, you're starting to sound like your mother."
I shrugged and folded my hands in my lap, waiting for him to return. He placed a steaming cup in front of me. "So, tell me what you're feeling."
"You're starting to sound like a shrink Rick," I said as he took a sip of coffee. His face broke into a smile and he shoved me gently. "Okay okay. First Leon, and now James. I don't understand why relationships have been so difficult for me. Tell me Rick, you know, you always know."
I watched as he placed his coffee cup on the corner of the table. "Okay, are you ready for the reason?"
I nodded, more than a little confused.
"Here's number one," he said. Before I could speak, he was sitting next to me, his lips pressed against mine. I felt his hand wrap around my back, and his warm breath on me cheek. He was gentle, loving, and broke away from the kiss slowly.
"Here's number two," he said, and kissed me again, this time with force, his tounge pushing past my closed lips and searching the inside of me mouth. His hand traveled down my back and I felt him pressing me back into the couch. He pulled back abruptly and left me breathless, my mind spinning.
"You like number two. You like decisiveness in a guy. You like it when he takes the wheel, and you let yourself be run over too many times. Being kind and repectfull is one thing, but being submissive is another. You need to work more on sticking up for yourself. Leon and James both took advantage of your submissiveness."
He looked proud of himself as he relaxed into his chair. "You need to work more on liking number one than number two."
I stood up and walked over to him, never loosing eye contact. "I liked both of them," I said and pulled him to his feet. "And that's why I keep attracting guys like Leon and James. Not because I'm submissive, but I see something I want right in front of me, and because I think more about what I know and less about what I feel, I make the wrong decisions."
I felt him kiss me softly again, and the love and emotion transfering to my body through his touch made me shiver.
"I was waiting for that. I was waiting for you to realize that you loved me enough to skip over what you knew and assumed about me, and risked it because you wanted this so much. I was waiting until you could do that for yourself." He hugged me close and rested his head on my shoulder.
I collapsed against him and breathed quietly. "I know, somehow, I knew that this should have happened."
We moved over to the window, and I gazed down at the street, the snow falling against the cold glass. The air rushing from my mouth left a steamy circle on the window, and I felt Rick's hand tentatively take mine and squeeze it. I looked up at him, with his messy red hair and green eyes, his orange plaid pajama pants and gray tank top. His tatoos and his piercings.
I kissed his neck and I saw his reflection in the glass smiling. "You're flawless, you know that?"
He shrugged and pulled me closer. "It doesn't matter. What matters is that you've seen past stuborness and logic, and made a move based on what you feel. You thought I was straight? You were wrong. I wanted you to love me for me, not because you knew I was gay, or you knew that I wanted you. I wanted to see if you would do it on your own. And it took awhile, but you went the extra step and now we have so much ahead of us."
I felt his hand massaging my palm, and I looked back up at him. He had a faraway look in his eyes, and his five o'clock shadow was already coming out on his face. But he was flawless to me, and that was really all that mattered.