I was standing in line at the movie theater, waiting to buy a ticket. A movie ticket for another movie based on another comic book; that I had never read. Of course my friend Dre had read the comic and all its spinoffs. So I already knew the charcters, plot and story; why even bother going. I don't go for the movie. I don't go for the popcorn and candy. Or even to hang with my mates. I go for him, the skinny boy who rips my ticket. I am straight, always liked girls, as long as I could remember. But there is just something about him I want. Have you ever wanted someone for no rhyme or reason? He must be barely 15, blonde hair, first job. I don't know his eye color, from afar they look dark, but I am to scared to look him in the eye. If I do I fear he will know what I want from him.
Have you ever looked at a person's hands? His hands where so white like silk gloves; I wonder if they felt that way. His touch would be light and feather like. He likes to click his tongue against his teeth and run it over his lips, they look chapped. I fantasize they feel gritty and dry, but I don't mind. He wears these wire frame glasses, they slide down his nose, but before they fall he pushes them back with his finger. he looks so innocent when he does that. He has no idead what he does to me. He smiles and laughs with the other ticket riper who is standing beside him riping tickets. I want to make him laugh like that as I hold him close. The line is long, its Friday and everyone had to come see this movie. I just want to get my ticket. "Sir" the ticket lady says to me, but I don't hear here. "Dude--" Dre slaps me on the arm "your turn."
Oh how I wish it was my turn with him. I walk up to him, both our hands on the ticket. I slide my finger across his, estacy. Suddenly he is in my arms and he is hot. We press our lips together and the are chapped and dry. Our lips bleed, tastes sweet. Our bodies sweat and we stick together. I slide into him and it is paradise. Warm and tight, he cries. It is all that I dreamed it would be. Our bodies rock and I press into him. I lick the salty tears from his face. Then the ticket ripes and suddenly Dre pushes me along and into the theater. "The movie is about to start" Dre says hurrying me along "We don't want to miss it." But I don't come for the movie, or the popcorn and candy, or to hang with my mates. I come for him, the skinny boy who rips my ticket.