"Hi, Father,"
The blue-haired teen waltzed into the small confessional, plopping himself onto the bench inside of the old wooden place. He posed the greeting flirtaciously, fiddling with his earring when he sat down. "If your going to say dumb shit like that you might as well make it 'daddy'." The muffled voice came from beyond the blurry glass and mesh wiring that separated the two. "Eager." Philip snorted out, letting his hand fall to his knee.
"You are so frustrating." The voice sighed out, but it sounded somewhat pleased he'd come. "Y'know, you should get some little slot under the window or some shit. Getting bored of my hands, Father. Tell your dad it's for donations, pretty please?" The other pondered this, or more like flinched back into the window, making it shake. "You seem excited." He added, sticking his tongue out toward the window. "You just asked me to give you a handjob." The voice responded, softly. "Let's get away from here and it could easily be more."
The blonde froze. He smiled widely, he couldn't stop it. Somehow he'd forced himself to swallow back saying yes, and kept his composure. "No, of course not, that would be an absolute sin, why would I?" He responded, robotically. It was meant as a joke. "Please say yes." The other mumbled through the mesh wiring. "Who's eager now? And no, my father would notice almost immediately I was gone. Your plan was made completely in your favor."
"Then at least let me see who you are."
Travis stared back through the glass at the faint blue-ish silhouette. "I, um. Don't think I'm ready for that sort of rejection, Phil." Philip sighed loudly. "Damn, alright. It's not going to be a rejection though, just so you're aware." He set down the Bible he had originally in his hand, and reached down his own torso, pulling at the stuffy dress pants he was forced to wear on occasion. The rest was basically a big old "Eff you" to his old man.
The bell sounded, and the blonde walked out of Geometry, ripping up yet another failed test, and tossing it into a trash can nearby, stuffing his mother's necklace into his shirt. Lunch time was the only time he had to talk with Philip, and any remote sign that he was the pastor's son meant, "Whoops, secret's out. Hey Phil, you've been having jack-off sessions with a fucking dissapointment."
He stared at the hint of blue he saw down the hall. Sal Fisher, another blue haired guy he'd recently, finally, got rejected by. It wasn't a hard blow, he knew that Sal had a ginormous crush on Ashley Campbell, one of his close friends. He'd posed the confession more as, "Please reject me now so I can end these stupid feelings I have. I'm not going to get angry." then, "Date me."
Because really Sal was just nice looking, with a sweet personality. Everything you'd want in a boyfriend, right? Wrong. He was nice, but Travis' personality would never click with his. He was so angry, aggressive, rude. He felt eyes constantly on him, people constantly judging him, so it was his job to put those people in their place, right? And that's what he did. Plus, only a few of his concerning little notes were about Sal either way. On the days where his eyes lighting up through his prosthetic was the only thing that kept Trav going, sure, he'd adore him. But, it felt different. Like maybe someone else caught his eye.
And that someone else coincidentally and somewhat fortunately had the same problem he did. They both liked guys that would never like them back, they both confessed in the confession house, and well.. the rest was relief. Philip's parents were great, and supportive. He'd come out years before moving to Nockfell. Because he'd learned around eight that he liked boys, and that was that.
Travis' broken family, though? If he told his father he even spoke to Phil, he'd be in for a hell of a beating. His mother was dead, they'd never found her body, only a few belongings in the creek. Father's little cult fixed the problem of them telling anyone, and all of the sudden the police were saying she ran away. And for a year or two Travis tried to believe that. That his mother had found somewhere safer than where she was. But then.. why wasn't he brought along? He learned long after that his mother was dead, and he was not to speak of her anymore to anyone.
He slowly pushed open the cafeteria doors, and walked through herds of people, setting his backpack on the table next to him, and leaning both arms onto the top of it. Around a minute later, he could feel weight from his empty table finally being shared. "'Sup asshole?" Phil greeted, sticking his tongue out. "The goddamn sky you fucking queer." He responded, holding up a bird to Philip's face. Phil shot one right back at him.
"I'm feeling fucking baller." The blunette said, opening his bag. "Huh, I wonder why. Did that pastor's son guy give you a handjob yet, or what?" Of course, Travis knew the answer to that. And now it was going to irk him completely, knowing there was no said 'donation' slot under the window unless he worked to carve it in. He might. "Ugh.. damn guy wouldn't let me see him, and I was like 'fuck man, your gonna be as hot as your voice'." The blonde smiled to himself. Something Phil has constantly remarked in all of their 'confessions' would be that he had such an attractive voice. He'd always respond with the fact that the window muffles it, but just thinking about that made his cheeks go pink.
"Earth to gayass," Philip said, loudly, waving a hand in the teens face. "Right, sorry, sorry." He paused. "Y'know you could ask him to blindfold you, adds to whatever the hell you two've got going on. You can't see his face, so I mean." Phil's eyes lit up. And oh how the blonde adored it. "Holy shit you're right. Do you know when the next confessional is?" Travis laughed. "Dude, I don't go to fucking church. Maybe this Wednesday? Might've seen that somewhere."
"I need to go right now, do you think he's there?" Travis gave him a look that said 'sit back down'. "At the confessional? Phil, it's a school day. Didn't your mom say he went here?" Philip sat down. "Ah, I guess you're right."
"Are you really so desperate for sex that your going to get it from some pastor's son with a blindfold on?" Phil stared at him, eyes not moving. Not blinking. "No, I think he's just generally a nice guy. Like, his personality, and the way he says things, and oh god, the way he pleads for m-" Travis covered the teens mouth with his hand. "Dude, TMI!" He whisper-yelled. Phil flushed out a muttered 'sorry'. "Don't get a hard-on in school talking to me about some guy you jack off with in a confessional- wait till' Wednesday."
"T-then I can't wait till' Wednesday!" Philip said, after the hand was removed. "Sure, bud."