Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or Falling Slowly.
Note: Alrighty, so this story is slowly starting to become my top priority. Maybe it's because it's only nine chapters long, maybe it's just easier to write and the story is more concrete than the others I'm working on, I don't know. Anyway, here you go.
And games that never amount
To more than they're meant
Will play themselves out
"Hey, Mum," Damian whispered as he called his mother late one evening.
"Hullo, honey," she said warmly. "How's it going over there?"
"It's okay," he sighed. "I miss you, though." Somewhat of a lie, but he wasn't about to tell her that. "It's so much warmer here, and the air is…drier."
She laughed. "We miss you too, love. Have you made any friends?"
Damian thought for a moment. "I suppose," he shrugged, realizing that she couldn't see him and feeling silly. "I'm still getting used to things, I guess."
"As long as you're having a good time," she said. "Do you want to talk to Emmett?"
"No, thanks. I'll, um, I'll Facebook him later," he told her. "Oh, I, uh, should go. Lots of, you know, homework."
"Of course," she said. "I love you."
"Love you, too," he said softly before hanging up. As much as he wanted to keep talking to her and to his older brother, Emmett, he was afraid that he'd let his secret slip.
No, not the secret of what his ex-girlfriend did to him.
But rather, his newest secret, one that gave him an anxiety attack whenever he thought of it, praying that it wasn't true, that it was all in his head.
He knelt by his bed, clasping his grandmother's rosary between his hands. "Dear Lord Jesus," he said. "Please, give me strength. Please, tell me that what I'm feeling is not true, that I'm not falling like this. I don't want to fall out of Your grace by having these feelings for this person. I beg of you, Lord, point me in the right direction. Amen." He made the sign of the cross, touching the rosary to his lips and tucking it into his bedside drawer.
"Damian?" Mary, the younger girl in his host family, poked his head in. "Will you please read me a bedtime story? I asked Jack, but he told me to get lost."
He smiled sweetly at the little girl in pigtails and footie pajamas. "Of course I will. Why don't you go get into bed, and I'll be there in a moment."
"Thanks, you're the best!" She bounced away. Damian chuckled to himself; as the baby of his family, he was enjoying having a younger brother and a younger sister. Mary was five, and Jack was ten, and Damian liked having them around to help take his mind of off things. They had been very curious at first, asking him about his home country and to say various words in his "cool accent", and they were all slowly becoming more comfortable with each other. He went down the hall to Mary's bedroom and settled himself in the small white chair next to her bed at her craft table.
"So what are we reading tonight?" She handed him over a book. "Huh, I've never heard of Junie B. Jones. Is it any good?"
"It's about a girl, an' she's in kindergarten, an' it's really funny," she gave him a gap-toothed grin.
"Sounds good to me," he opened to the first page and began to read. After three chapters, she was fast asleep. He chuckled softly and placed the book on her desk. He kissed her gently on the forehead, turned off her lamp, and quietly left the room. In the hall, he ran into Jack.
"Hey, I don't get this science homework. You're really good at science, aren't you?"
"Quite good," Damian smiled smugly. "Shall I take a look?"
"Eh, if you want," Jack shrugged and trudged to his room. Damian sighed and followed him; this was going to be an interesting nine months.
"Checking out my ass, kid?" Cameron joked as moved things around in his locker. How he knew Damian was behind him at that moment without turning around, Damian did not know, but it always impressed him whenever it happened.
"Um, no, not at all," Damian immediately blushed. "Just, you know, waiting for you to move so I can get to my locker."
Cameron smirked knowingly and closed the door. "It's okay," he said. He leaned close to Damian's ear, his hot breath tickling Damian's skin and making him shudder with lust. "I like that the girls and the boys want me," he said in a low, sensual voice. Gasping, Damian spun around, watching Cameron strut down the hall, putting his arm around a friend and laughing along with her. He sighed and busied himself at his locker. So what if he had been checking out Cameron's ass? It was a nice ass, and it was Cameron's own fault for wearing super-tight jeans in the first place. Just because he was looking at another boy's ass didn't make him gay, did it?
"Oh no, no, no, God please no," Damian muttered as he woke up to find his sheets sticky out of bed, shaking from head to toe. "No…I can't be…I'm not…" He tried to push the fantastic dream from his mind as he quickly changed the sheets, making a note to do his own laundry the next day. How embarrassing, he thought, to have a dream like this in the guest bed and with the guest sheets of a family that's not your own. As he lay amid the fresh, clean sheets that he'd snatched from the linen closet in the hallway, he replayed the dream in his memory. Cameron had been kissing him: his neck, his lips, his chest…oh, Damian closed his eyes, recalling it. It had all felt so good, so very good, unlike anything with his ex-girlfriend had ever felt. He shook himself out of it.
"Everyone's a little bi sometimes, right?" He muttered to himself. "This is totally normal. Guys have man-crushes, like women have girl-crushes. I'm not gay." He laughed to himself, sounding a little unsure even to his own mind. "I'm not gay…right?"
