Build Me Up, Margerinecup
By a.j.
He could remember his nervousness the most out of everything. It was still the first time they had ditched together, and only the second time he had ever talked to James. They had been up and down the town, James showing Zack every good thing there was to do in the hell hole they lived in. The pair had gone to the local Target and played with all of the children's toys, hitting each other with various objects. They had then snuck into the movies and watched a thriller that left Zack breathless and excited. With nothing left to do, they ran across the train tracks to the mall, where they laughed at everybody's clothes. Eventually, they went into Hot Topic and picked out clothes for each other. Zack couldn't miss the flirting that James was doing with him, especially since he touched his arm or his hand every five seconds, and he was surprised to find that, yes, he was flirting back, too. Did he particularly like James? Not especially. But was he hot and actually paying attention to him? Yes. And by the time school would have been out and they were laying on his bed, he decided that it was okay.
"Say something to me in Spanish," he requested, turning his head to look at the other boy.
James smiled, his lips curling up at the ends.
"Okay," he sighed. Zack laughed as the boy hummed to himself, obviously thinking hard. "Okay." The next words that came out of his mouth were very quick and obviously sexual in nature by the fire in those black eyes and the way his hand was inching up Zack's leg.
"What does that mean?" Zack asked, breathless.
"Basically, it means I want you," he responded simply. Zack smiled in what he hoped was a sultry manner. His nerves were crackling, both from the hands now touching all over his body and from his nervousness and worried trying to poke through.
Finally, he said fuck it, climbed on James, and kissed him. And by the time he got home that day, he wasn't a virgin anymore.
It's what gay friends do.
…………………
By the time Zack got to Freddy's house, it was barely six thirty in the morning. Still, even though the dark had not completely ebbed away from the sky, he felt much safer and much calmer just standing outside the large, albeit single storied house. He slowly snuck through their gate to the side of the home, stopping once he reached the place that he knew was the kid's bathroom, the sound of Freddy's loud, raucous singing barely managing to permeate the thick glass and wall.
"The KKK took my baby away, they took her away, away from…"
Before Freddy could butcher the genius Ramones song any more, Zack stooped down, picked up a pebble, and threw it at the high window. After a few seconds he heard the shower shut off and smiled at he saw the window open and the top of Freddy's dripping head slowly peek up.
"Zack?" he whispered. "What the fuck are you doing here?"
"Can I hang out this morning?" He hadn't meant for his voice to sound so pitiful, honest. Well, maybe just a bit.
"Shit, fuck, yeah, hold on, go to the patio door," Freddy babbled, slowly disappearing. A few minutes later he appeared at the back of the house in a towel, dripping all over the tile floor as he let Zack in.
"What the fuck happened?" Freddy asked, one hand holding up his towel and the other getting Zack's arm wet there he touched it.
"Nothing, just," he paused.
"You told your parents."
Zack looked down, knowing he didn't need to answer.
"Jesus, Zack. I'm sorry. They're fucking idiots, don't worry about them, whatever they said I'll fucking kill them for you," he mumbled, eyes looking more sincere than Zack liked them to be. He preferred his Freddy minus the worry and the pain in his eyes.
"They didn't say anything," Zack admitted. This made Freddy suck in his breath through clenched teeth and let it out slowly.
"Christ," he sighed. And it was then that most of Zack's resolve melted away. He stepped forward and hugged Freddy, concentrating very hard on not crying. He had fucking cried last night. There was no need for a repeat performance, especially in front of a live audience.
Freddy slowly stroked his back, making little shushing noises and kissing his neck.
"This fucking hurts," Zack sighed, his voice quivering with all of the emotion he held back, his eyes a floodgate he wasn't ready to open.
"I know, baby," Freddy whispered into his ear. "You can stay here, if you need to."
And then there they were, two friends, finally, again. They were boyfriends, but before any of the boyfriend things came into play, they were friends. They watched out for each other. They cared about each other. They joked and played and hit and smiled and it fucking meant something, something good, something better, something complete.
And it was almost enough.
"Zack Mooneyham? Is that you?"
They both looked up to see Freddy's little sister rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, her short, pajama bottoms falling off of her skinny hips. For the first time, Zack realized that he was on the floor, still in Freddy's arms.
"Hey Nicole," he mumbled, disentangling himself from his boyfriend. "You got big."
The blonde girl just blinked at the pair, finally stating the obvious.
"Are you guys friends again?" she asked, pulling down at her pants, making Zack blush.
"Yeah," Freddy answered, grinning and hugging Zack to him. "In fact, he's my bitch."
Nicole's face was blank for a second.
"You guys are weird." She paused. "Why are you only in a towel?"
"Long story," Zack answered quickly.
"Whatever," she sighed before going into the bathroom, leaving the two boys alone again.
"Dude, when did your sister get boobs?"
Freddy gasped and smacked Zack in the head.
"Fucking pervert, looking at my goddamn sister!" he fake-screamed, pushing Zack down and pretending to be trying to beat him up.
"Hey, she was the one pulling her shorts down. Obviously all of the Jones' are hot for my bod."
At this, they laughed and smiled at each other. After a few minutes of this, Zack cleared his throat and called attention to what he was sure would become a problem for him.
"Um, Fred D., maybe you should put some clothes on." This made the other boy smile and grind down onto Zack a bit.
"You know you like it, Mooneyham," he growled.
Zack would later find it a wonder that the two of them had managed to get to school at all.
…………………
School was hard enough on a normal day. It was complete and total fucking hell when pretty much every person in the state had received the fake newspaper article in the mail and there were roughly, oh, a bajillion copies that literally filled up the school, worse than in Mean Girls, not that Zack would ever admit to watching that movie. He felt the weight of a thousand eyes everywhere he went, all judging him and screaming at him in their silence. They he was a bad person. A fag. A worthless pile of shit.
The only part of the day that seemed worthwhile was lunch, where Freddy and Zack once again met in the bathrooms. Freddy held Zack and rocked him back and forth, all the while muttering death threats to whoever bothered him. They didn't eat lunch that day, just, you know, each other's tongues or whatever. But it was enough for Zack, who wordlessly mouthed the whole time the words he was screaming in his head: I love you I love you I love you I love you.
It wasn't a new thought in his head. It had been there since he was thirteen and he realized that yes, he still had a crush on Freddy and that he wanted everything from him: his love, his anger, his laughter, his problems, his good and his bad. He wanted to share it with him forever. And it meant Something. Something good.
He just often wondered if Freddy felt the same way now, too.
The last couple of periods were hell, a few people in his class even having the balls to make comments; one boy he didn't even know actually cornered him, cupped him between his legs and said "this is what you like, right? You'd get hard for me, right you fucking fag?"
Still, it wasn't as bad as the feeling of his stomach dropping when he walked outside the school doors with Freddy and saw his father leaning against his black sports coat. Every happy thought he had from being with his boyfriend, every plan of going to Freddy's house, making him a PB-and-J, snuggling next to him on his bed and kissing him over and over until neither of them could think straight, all of it was gone.
"Zackary, we need to talk," his father said sternly once they reached the car. He then turned to the blonde boy and nodded at him, acknowledging his existence. "Freddy."
"Hi Mr. Mooneyham," Freddy almost-whispered uncertainly. "It's nice to see you."
"Same." He paused. "Need a ride home?"
Zack looked at Freddy, who looked at him for a split-second. "Sure. That would be great."
The car ride was one of the most silent, most tense, worse car rides in the history of the entire fucking world, Zack was sure. Nobody spoke, the only sound being the echo of his heart beating, pounding in his ears. It took forever, but at the same time they had reached Freddy's house all too quickly.
Zack wanted to reach out and touch Freddy, to get one last hug, one last kiss, one last "good luck," but they didn't. Freddy just gave him a look, a look that said that he cared and good luck and call me later. And it was almost enough.
The minute the car door was closed and the engine was rumbling, Zack's dad finally started speaking.
"What happened this morning, Zackary," he asked casually, not taking his eyes off the road for a minute.
"I went to Freddy's," he answered quietly.
"At six in the morning? You thought sneaking out of the house would be okay?"
Zack winced, feeling his father's anger slowly start to bubble and grow.
"Er-"
"Did you think about how stupid that is? Who knows what could have happened! You could have been raped or kidnapped! Did you ever think of that?"
"Um-"
"Why the hell would you do something like that?" he screeched, his voice stradily getting higher. Zack could not remember ever seeing his father like this before.
"I didn't," he whispered, his voice cracking. "I didn't want to see you and mom. I thought, er. That maybe. You. Hated me." His voice slowly got quieter as he spoke, all of his emotions and fears starting to show.
The car's tired screeched as his father abruptly pulled over to the side of the road, scaring the shit out of Zack. He unbuckled his seatbelt and turned to face his son, and when Zack looked at him he saw a face he had never seen before on his father.
"Zack. I would never."
"But-"
"Never. Your mother wouldn't either. You're our only son and we love you."
"But you always yell at me!" Zack screamed, everything he had held in for years coming out. "You are never satisfied and always want me to do better and tell me you're disappointed in me and you won't fucking let me be me!"
The last word seemed to reverberate throughout the car.
"Zackary, I just want you to live the best life you can," his father said quietly. Zack breathed deeply, trying to calm down and, fuck, what was with him and having to cry all of a sudden? Goddamn.
"But you always push me and it's like, like I can never please you. Like you want a different son."
And with that, Zack's father was hugging him for the first time in his entire life.
"Zackary, we love you. You scared the hell out of your mother and me, because we-" his voice cracked, making Zack's eyes go wide. "We thought you had run away, or gotten murdered, or-"
"Dad, I'm fine. I'm okay."
"We know you don't have many friends, and you always wear black and listen to angry or sad music and we thought you might want to kill yourself."
"I'm fine. Really."
His dad pulled back, and Zack really Saw him. Saw all of his worried and anxieties and wrinkles, and for the first time he wondered if maybe he had caused any of the wrinkles, and felt guilty.
"We just want you to be okay and safe." His dad paused and looked down, his neck starting to redden. "I know we never gave you the birds and the bees talk before, but, uh. Do you want to know how to put on a condom?"
Zack started laughing, thinking about how behind his dad was in his life. Shit, with all that he and James did Zack might as well be giving his Dad lessons in condom usage. But that was a very unpleasant picture and thought process, so he quickly put that thought away.
"That's okay, Dad."
His dad smiled a bit at this.
"It's nice to hear you laugh, Zackary. God knows the last time I've heard it," he commented, twinges of sadness lining his voice.
"So you and Mom are okay with me being, uh, gay?" Zack asked after a few moments.
"Well, uh, we're worried," he admitted, scratching his nose in a nervous habit that Zack had never seen him do before. "We don't want you to get AIDS or get raped in a bathroom. We just want you to be careful."
This made Zack smile shyly. It was as if everything he had ever wanted to hear – well, besides hearing Freddy say that he loved him after a long night of fucking – had just been said. Not that it all happened in the way he always pictured it, but still.
"Thanks, Dad," he said. His father smiled at him, buckled his seatbelt back up, and drove them home. When they got there, his mother was there to smother him in a bone-crushing hug, pet his hair and sob into his shoulder about how worried she had been. And he held his crying mother, guilt reaching into his deepest places. He had never wanted to make his beautiful mother cry, ever.
By dinner the household wasn't normal, but it wasn't bad. Everybody seemed a lot happier- no, a lot more comfortable. He knew his parents didn't quite understand everything yet, and weren't completely happy or comfortable with their child being a homosexual, but they were trying. They grounded him for a week and gave him pamphlets called "So You're A Teenage Homosexual- Now What?" and "Teen Sexuality and You."
And it was a lot more than he had expected. And more than anything, it was enough.