"This has got to be the worst birthday ever," Mark said, sitting on his bed. "Isn't eighteen supposed to be fun?"
"Fuck yeah!" Roger replied, pacing Mark's room. "We need to get out of your house."
"My mom isn't going to let us leave," he said. "It's almost nine…"
"You have three hours left on your eighteenth birthday," Roger said, walking over to his friend and gripping him by the shoulders. "You need to get wasted."
"What?" Mark wriggled out of Roger's grip. "No way, Roger. We'll end up doing something stupid that we'll regret."
"No, we won't," Roger reassured, grabbing Mark by the arm and dragging him to the window. "I'm good at drinking, we'll be fine."
"Well, where are we going to get alcohol?"
"Have you ever been drinking before?" Roger asked as he opened the window.
"No, my parents are…"
"Well, there's a first time for everything," Roger grinned. "Now c'mere, let's get out of here."
Mark sighed and obliged to his friend's wishes. This wasn't something that happened every birthday.
--
An hour later, the boys were in an old field a few miles outside of Scarsdale with half of Mrs. Davis's liquor cabinet and a candle. Roger insisted that the candle was a lot cooler than the lantern. They didn't really need the candle though. They were far enough out of the city to actually see the stars. They shined and twinkled in the velvet sky, giving off enough light to allow the boys to see.
"This is actually really good," Mark said, raising the bottle of Cuervo to his lips and taking another sip.
"Toldja," Roger slurred, tossing another beer bottle aside.
"I can't believe I've never done this before," Mark mused, falling backwards. "I guess it was worth the eighteen years of waiting." He looked over at Roger grinning. He couldn't tell if Roger was grinning back. His vision had become a blurred mass of color and shapes.
"I'm glad I could give it to you," Roger laid back next to Mark, their hands almost touching. "What are you going to say you haven't done next? Kiss a girl?" Roger stopped laughing when he didn't hear Mark chuckling too. "Oh god."
"Whaaaaaaat?" Mark chugged the Cuervo again, praying he imagined what Roger just said.
"You've never been kissed before, have you?" Roger took the bottle from Mark and tossed it aside.
"Rogerrr, don't beee sillllyyy," Mark slurred.
"I'm not," Roger sat up, pulling Mark into a sitting position. "Be honest, Mark. You're still a prude."
Mark blushed and looked down, twiddling his thumbs. "Well, yeah I guess."
"Wow," Roger said. He had kissed plenty of girls, a few boys on a dare too. "We need to fix that."
"Where are we going to find a girl out here?" Mark asked. He removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes in an attempt to see better.
"It doesn't have to be a girl," Roger replied.
"Are you going to make me kiss an animal?" Mark's vision became a little clearer as his eyes widened.
"Because animal is a gender," Roger rolled his eyes. "No stupid."
Mark bit his lips. "You mean… are you… ew, Roger."
"What? Are you saying I'm not hot?"
"No… I mean, I don't… Roger…"
"What?"
Mark remembered the moments before they left his house. "See, I told you we'd do something we'd regret."
"Who says we're going to regret it, Mark?" Roger put his hands on his hips as he inched closer to his friend.
He opened his mouth to reply, but closed it. Roger was right. "Are you sure we won't?"
"I know I won't," Roger assured, putting his arm around Mark's shoulder, holding him against him.
Mark nodded. He trusted Roger – after all, they had been best friends for years. "O…okay."
Roger reached his hand up to Mark's cheek, cupping it. "Marky, stop shaking. It won't hurt."
Mark nodded again, trying to calm his nerves. He looked up into Roger's bloodshot eyes and saw understanding. "Okay."
Roger lowered his face to Mark's and brushed his lips against Mark's cheek. Mark shivered, ignoring the alcohol on Roger's breath. Their lips met. At first it was soft, but Roger pushed harder until Mark opened his mouth a little. Mark's hands found themselves gripping Roger's shirt for dear life. Mark shivered as Roger's tongue found an entrance to his mouth and explored. He returned the favor and deduced that the after taste of beer wasn't very good. Roger pulled out first, sucking gently on Mark's lip before letting go.
"Well?" Roger sat back a little, his arm still around Mark.
Mark shrugged and his face reddened. "Thank you," he muttered.
"Anytime, Marky, anytime," Roger replied, wrapping his other arm around Mark and laying down, taking the other boy with him. "Was it a good birthday?"
Mark snuggled against Roger, his head resting on his chest. He knew midnight was fast approaching and it wouldn't be his eighteenth birthday for much longer. "Best yet." He closed his eyes as he felt Roger' fingers twirl around through his hair. As he faded away to sleep, he heard the tune of happy birthday and Roger's gentle voice as he sang Mark to sleep.
Fin