Chapter Thirteen: When I feel that something, I wanna hold your hand…

Adam's POV

The school day dragged on unbearably slow. All I could think about was Tommy and the fact that I was really, really looking forward to spending time with him after school. Not to mention, I was ecstatic that he was coming to the winter choral concert next weekend. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'd been nervous as fuck trying to spill the words to ask him (and ended up sounding like I had a frog lodged in my throat), but I got it out. Sort of.

I knew that I should've paid more attention to my classes, especially in Theatre. But I just couldn't concentrate. I couldn't think about anything else other than Tommy. And I guess that was because I had a crush on him— how could I not? He was adorable, funny, charming, gorgeous beyond belief… It may've been creepy, but I found his hands incredibly attractive, too… They were thin, elegant with well-toned fingers and, like, the most perfect nails ever.

Okay, yeah, I know, it's weird, but what could I say? These were the little things I noticed when we were in English and History, and on the off-chance that I got to see him at lunch and before school. Like… The way he tucked his hair behind his ear or looked away when he was embarrassed…

I shook my head, pulling my bag closer to myself as I walked down the halls. I'd told Tommy to meet me at the front of the school after class got out. I had to run by my locker, first, but my heart was pounding in my chest to go and see him. I just.. I hadn't really gotten the chance to hang out with him much since the failed attempt at the movies and then, briefly, this morning. I wanted to hang out with him more, I liked being around him. He was just..

Shut up, Adam. Just shut up. I told myself, slipping through a door and heading down the locker bay. Girls gave me looks and a bunch of the jocks purposefully bumped into me, but I tried not to let it bother me. I couldn't. I had other things on my mind that were more important to me than a couple of hurtful comments and the occasional shove from someone six inches taller and twenty pounds heavier.

I reached for my locker, spinning the dial before pulling the door open. I swung my bag around, reaching into it and pulling out my unnecessary text books and setting them inside. I grabbed my History book, pushing it into my bag before shutting the door, spinning the dial once to lock it. Readjusting my bag, I headed down the hallway again, aware of all the jocks. Though, I believed, that I needed to be more aware of my thoughts than of people…

I sighed, gnawing gently on my bottom lip. No matter how much I tried, I couldn't stop… thinking about Tommy. I'd close my eyes, even for a moment, and his beautiful, deep, chocolaty eyes would be staring back at me in the darkness. I wanted to say that I was bothered by it, but I wasn't. I wasn't bothered by the fact that I was thinking about him, but I was bothered by the fear that he wasn't… Like me. That he wasn't a fag.

Normally, I hated the word. I hated being associated with it in any fashion, but it was true. I was gay. I liked boys. I was a fag. And part of my fear with liking Tommy as much as I did was that he was straight. That he would think I was a freak bent on getting into his pants. Don't get me wrong, the idea of being… intimate with Tommy was rather enticing and desirable, but it wasn't my motive. I wanted to get to know him. Wanted to spend time with him and really… Really get close to him… And, if I happened to be lucky enough that he was, in fact, like me, then maybe we could be more…

But I doubted it.

I pushed through the crowds of people, keeping a mental note not to bump into anyone too much or get a target painted on my back. It was bad enough that I had one for being gay, I didn't need one for causing any "unwanted" problems as well, despite the fact that everyone saw my existence as an unwanted problem, but whatever. They could go fuck themselves on their mother's dildos for all I cared.

I chuckled to myself, glancing around the courtyard and realizing I didn't see the blond anywhere in sight. I frowned softly before pushing away my negative thoughts. Perhaps his teacher had him stay behind a little late for something? But… He had gym at this period. Why would he need to stay after for gym, of all things? If it had been History, I could've understood. But it wasn't.

Calm down, Adam. He'll be here. I told myself, leaning against the wall of the courtyard, pretending to mess with my phone as I scanned the faces of everyone that I could catch glimpses of. People with brown hair, pale faces, dark skin, black hair, bleach-blond hair, blue eyes, green eyes, dull brown eyes… All features that didn't belong to Tommy, didn't match to Tommy. I sighed softly, checking my phone again.

It'd been ten minutes since school had gotten out and, still, there were no signs of Tommy. My dad had texted me asking me where I was, since he was here, waiting to pick me up. I flipped open my phone, typing out a message saying that I was waiting for Tommy and I would be out shortly. But I didn't know how long or short "shortly" would end up being. I tried texting Tommy, but got no response from the blond.

Maybe he decided to bail? No… Tommy seemed pretty enthusiastic to hang out, I couldn't see why he would want to bail. Besides, if he wanted to, he would have told me something rather than just leaving me in the dark. But that didn't mean that I wasn't worried about the potential aspect of him ditching, but— Shut. Up. Adam. You're fine. He'll show up. You'll be okay. Stop freaking out about this and just be a little patient.

Patient. Right.

I messed with my phone some more, seeing that five minutes had passed without a word from Tommy. My dad texted me again, asking what was taking us so long. I sighed softly, looking across the courtyard again. The masses of people had thinned out some and it was easier to try and pick out any signs of the blond. But there were none, and I felt my heart grow heavier and heavier.

Ten minutes, and still no Tommy. Frowning, I pushed off of the wall, heading down the courtyard towards the gyms. Tommy hadn't come out yet and most everyone else was gone, already. What could've been taking him so long? What conversation with a teacher was more important than hanging out with me?

Okay, that was a little vain, but I hadn't been able to hang out with Tommy at all for the past couple of weeks, and I was really looking forward to the opportunity. I didn't, exactly, like the idea of being blown off, but if he was caught up with something— or someone— I wanted to be informed.

I bit down on my lip, pulling my bag closer and shoving my phone into my pocket. I reached forward, grabbing the door that led in from the courtyard towards the gyms. What if he was caught up with someone other than a teacher? Was it just a quick chat or— no. Stop it. Stop it, stop it, stop it! I had to be respectful of Tommy's personality and his choices, but that didn't mean I couldn't hope that there was some kind of a chance between the two of us, right? Adam, you're hopeless.

Stepping into the hallway, I glanced down towards the surplus of doors. The gyms all looked dark, so I had to, at least, try the locker room. Maybe Tommy was in there? Maybe he was just taking forever or something. Inhaling slowly, I forced myself to walk down the hall towards the doors. The walls reeked of manliness and sweat and I tried my hardest not to gag, but it was just… Repulsive.

Reaching for the handle of the boy's locker room, I tugged, finding the door to be unlocked. Sighing in relief, I pulled the door open and stepped inside. "Tommy?" I called out, peering my head around the corner. I couldn't see much, but I heard something. A soft, faint groan that was weak. Perhaps in pain. I swallowed a lump in my throat, stepping forward again.

"Tommy?" I called again, walking closer, but each step was slow and cautious. That groan definitely sounded like it was in pain, and I didn't want to chance getting jumped by anyone. I may've been a fag in theatre, but that didn't mean I was very outward to violence. I would fight back if necessary, but if not, I tried to avoid it at all costs.

Turning a corner, I gasped. Tommy was slumped on the floor by the bench, groaning weakly. His nose was gently gushing blood, his face bruised. I rushed over to him, dropping my bag and pulling him away from the bench, gently pressing him into the locker. His head lolled to the side and he couldn't keep his eyes open for more than a moment at a time. His shirt was all ruffled and I wondered if there were any other marks on him.

"Ad—dam.." He groaned softly. I shushed him quietly. He looked like he was slipping in and out of consciousness. I whimpered quietly as he grumbled incoherently. I pushed his hair out of his face, his head lolling into my hands. Despite his state and my worry for him, I felt my face heat up a little bit.

"Shh, Tommy…" I whispered again before his eyes fluttered shut, his body going limp. I whimpered, shaking him a little, trying to wake him up. But he was out like a light.

Holding him up with one hand, I fumbled into my pocket, pulling out my phone and pressing my dad's speed dial. I held my phone to my ear, pushing Tommy's hair out of his face. I didn't want to leave him, but he needed to be cleaned up. There was blood on his shirt, hoodie and his pants, drying on his face. My phone buzzed in my ear before my dad picked up.

"Adam, what is taking you two so long?" My dad questioned. He was only annoyed that we were taking so long, but at the moment I didn't give a damn.

"Dad, Tommy's been beaten up. Can you come help me carry him to the car? We're in the boy's locker room." My dad cursed before telling me that he would be right in before hanging up. I snapped my phone closed, setting it down before positioning Tommy in a way that he wouldn't fall over if I let go of him.

Pulling away, I stood and hurried over to the sinks, running water as I grabbed paper towels, getting them wet before ringing them out, leaving them damp. Shutting off the water, I rushed back to Tommy, kneeling down next to him and wiping his face clean as best I could before holding a towel to his nose to stop the bleeding. I kept gnawing on my lip, wondering whether or not it was a bad thing that he'd passed out…

Was I supposed to try and wake him up? Was I supposed to let him just sleep? I pulled the towel away from his nose and leaned in close, listening for— he was breathing. Deeply, actually. He might've passed out, sure, but he didn't seem to be in any immediate danger. I sighed in relief, checking his nose to see if the bleeding had stopped any. It had.

I set the moist, bloody towels down on the bench before looking back over at Tommy. Why would he've gotten beaten up? What did he do wrong to deserve such a brutal assault? Nothing was making any sense and there were only two things running through my mind upon staring at his relaxed, yet, bruised face: one; if I found out who did this to him, I was going to be sure that they paid for hurting him. Two; his lips looked beautiful…

No, Adam. Don't you dare.

But… Just… What would it be like? To kiss someone?

Not like this. Don't do it like this. Besides, what if he wakes up? As it is, he already suspects you for singing to him— singing a rather emotional and passionate song, no less. Don't give him reason to end up hating you… I bit down on my bottom lip, glancing over my shoulder, but I didn't hear or see anything. There was no harm in one little peck, was there? Just one little thing for myself? To know what it was like to kiss someone else's lips?

Don't, Adam. But— it wasn't fair… He wouldn't have to know… And his lips looked so soft… No, Adam. Don't. Just one? I leaned closer, eyeing Tommy's face cautiously, for any signs of stirring. But there were none. He was still.

Stop it. One won't hurt. Closer still. My eyes were sliding shut slowly and I could feel his breath ghosting against my own lips. My heart was racing in my chest like lightening speed and ever inch closer it pounded harder and harder.

Adam, don't! I could feel the heat of his mouth, my lower lip barely grazing his. I inched closer, my top lip connecting with his. True to my assumption, his lips were soft. Incredibly warm. I moaned gently, tingling sensations running down my spine, arms and legs.

Stop!

There was a clang of a door and I drew back from Tommy's lips, my heart stuttering in my chest and I felt my cheeks flame with a blush. I looked over my shoulder to see my dad coming in, his eyes wavering between mine and Tommy's limp form. Part of me felt bad that I.. kissed him. Though, I wasn't sure if I could really call it one. To me, a kiss meant effort on both parts. This… I didn't know what to call what I'd just done, but it left me feeling guilty.

What if Tommy wasn't gay? Or even partially bisexual? What if I'd just stolen my first "kiss" from an unconscious, straight kid? My heart pounded in my chest as my dad helped me lift Tommy to his feet. I held one of Tommy's arms over my shoulder, he held Tommy's other. I wrapped an arm around the blond's waist, reaching up and taking his hand in mine by my shoulder.

Fuck, I was a horrible person. Stealing a peck on the lips and now I was holding his hand? All the things I'd dreamed about doing with a guy I liked, and here I was, holding and kissing a guy that I liked, yet he was unconscious and, potentially, straighter than a stick. Great.

My dad and I carried Tommy to the car, pushing him into the backseat. I climbed in beside Tommy, holding him against me with his head on my shoulder as we drove. The car ride, itself, was silent, but it was not awkward in the least. My dad knew me well enough that, when I got into this mood, I wasn't into talking. I couldn't really explain it, but he'd told me once that he could tell by the withdrawn look on my face that, sometimes, I wasn't up for a conversation.

I stared out at the passing city and streets, holding Tommy as close to me as I could without raising any suspicion from my dad in the front seat. I'd never really told my parents that I was gay, but I figured they suspected it. I mean, come on, it wasn't hard. I never brought home girls and I dressed more fabulously than most of the girls at my school. Well, okay. Not all of my wardrobe consisted of fabulous clothing. But I had a few pieces here and there.

In no time, my dad pulled into the driveway of our house. He killed the engine before helping me pull Tommy from the back seat and into the house. My mother was still at work, and I could hear Neil upstairs in his room. Despite his small size, Tommy was rather heavy and carrying him up the stairs proved to be a little harder than we originally anticipated, but we managed. My dad helped me take Tommy to my room and we laid him down on the bed.

"Thanks, Dad," I muttered softly and he nodded, leaving to go back downstairs. I flopped down at my desk chair, staring over at Tommy's sleeping form. I had no idea when he was going to wake up, but, somehow, I found myself not really minding in the least. Watching Tommy sleep was, sure, kinda creepy on my behalf, but he looked beautiful. He looked at peace…

I stood from my chair, crossing over to my wardrobe. I pulled out a fresh shirt and jacket. I didn't have any pants that would fit Tommy, so he'd have to deal with the few blood stains that were on his thigh. Fortunately, his jeans were dark enough that you couldn't really tell they were there at first. But his shirt and hoodie needed to be washed and, since my mom was an expert at getting stains out of clothing, I was sure she wouldn't mind helping to get them out.

I turned back towards my bed, setting the clothes down on the edge before sitting down at my chair again. Tommy hadn't budged once. I wondered when he would. But I couldn't worry about that, though. I had to just let him sleep it out. He would wake up on his own time, and, until then, I needed something else to occupy my time.

"Adam?" I heard Neil's voice, and I turned, seeing him standing in my doorway with his eyes locked on Tommy. I sighed softly, running fingers through my hair before pushing my glasses up my nose.

"What, Neil?" I asked. I really didn't want to deal with him, but I knew there was no avoiding it, to be honest.

"Why's he passed out on your bed? Did you, like, rape him or something?" Anger flared in my chest and I had to refrain from running over and strangling the shit out of my little brother. Instead, I sighed again, my hands curling into fists on my lap as I glared at him.

"No. He got beat up at school. Please, Neil, leave." I told him, motioning with my hand to shoo him out of the door, but he stayed put. Actually, he came further into my room, and if Tommy hadn't been there, I would've started yelling at him. He knew better than to come into my room. Little fucker.

"I thought he was man enough to take care of himself, though? He looks tough enough to do it," he huffed, almost sounding disappointed that Tommy had gotten beaten up. I stood from my chair, walking over to Neil and grabbing his shoulder, steering him around and pushing him out of my door.

"Maybe he got ganged up on, Neil. Please, leave my room so Tommy can get some rest and I can do my homework," I hissed, shoving him again and closing my door. I sighed softly, turning my head to see Tommy's hands rubbing his eyes as he started to sit up. My heart fluttered and my stomach filled with worry that I had disturbed him…

"Adam?" He questioned, looking over at me. I tried not to melt into a pool of goo by the way he said my name, and instead I walked over to him, sitting on the bed beside him, "How did I get here?" He asked and I chuckled.

"My dad and I brought you here. I found you in the locker room and I told him to come help me…" I said quietly, remembering the clothes. I turned, grabbing them and holding them out to him. "None of my pants will fit you, but I figured you might want a clean shirt and hoodie until my mom can wash yours?" I suggested. Tommy's eyes softened slightly and he smiled at me, taking the clothes.

"She doesn't have too—" he began, but I shook my head, feeling a light blush spread across my face.

"She's the Stain-Removal-Master. It wouldn't be problem for her." I told him, and he nodded once, looking away.

He was silent for a long moment, and I could see in his eyes that there was something on his mind. Something that he, maybe, wanted to say or ask me. I tilted my head to the side, blinking once before reaching over and touching his knee gently. He looked over at me, seeming to realize where he was after a moment, "You okay?" I ask him, chuckling.

Tommy blinked again, looking away for a second, "Y-yeah… I just…" He sighed, licking his lips before turning towards me, holding the clothes against his chest, "I… I need to ask you something. And, please, don't take this the wrong way, I just… I need to know… It was something the guys in the locker room brought up and it's been nagging me since then and—" I smiled, reaching over and touching his knee again. He stopped and stared at me.

"Just spit it out, man." I said with a laugh and he chuckled, nervously, looking away.

"Well, I just… I wanted to know if you.. If you were, like… I don't mean this disrespectfully if you are, because it's totally cool if you are, but… I just… I need to know if you're a.. If you're.. Fuck, why is this so hard? Adam, are you… Shit.."

"Am I, what, Tommy?" I questioned, a soft hiss underlying my tone. His eyes widened and he opened his mouth to speak, but I didn't let him get a word out, "A fag? A cocksucker? An assfucker, Tommy? Is that what you wanted to ask me? If I'm queer?" I snarled, trying not to get angry. I had no right to get angry, really. He was asking an honest question. But that didn't stop the tint of red filming itself over my eyes.

"Yes— no! Well, I mean, yes, b-but that's not how I was going to say it, I… Fuck." He buried his face into his hands and my expression softened.. Great, I blew up at him for no reason. Fuck!

I sighed softly, "Look, I'm sorry for snapping… It's just.. People at school give me shit about it on a daily basis and I just assumed everyone knew, or something.." I told him, feeling my face heating up. I'd never truly admitted it to anyone that I was gay, and here I was, telling the guy I liked that I was gay. Awesome.

Tommy looked up from his hands, his eyes soft and caring. "Well.. I mean, it's you… They should respect that.. You don't give them shit for being them, it's not fair that they have to do it to you. I mean, it's.. It's cool that you're willing to be yourself. To be open," he said with a smile. I stared at him for a moment, before smiling back at him.

I couldn't help liking him. He was just perfect.