Chapter Two
Samuel picked at his breakfast moodily while his younger brother, David, flapped around the kitchen in hysterics. He had just been paid a visit by no other than his long-time crush, Marquis de Lafayette.
"Sammy, did you see the way his beautiful eyes flashed at me when I mentioned that we were loyalists?" he wailed. "He hates me, I know he does!"
"Relax," Samuel muttered, "I doubt he even remembers your face."
"That's even worse!" David shrieked.
David's pale blue eyes contrasted drastically with Samuel's chocolate ones, and his hair was almost an albino white while Samuel's was a thatch of rich caramel. David and Samuel suspected that they had different fathers, but never confronted their mother about it.
After all, she was dead.
Samuel pushed around his beans a little bit more and then gave up. He had always hated beans on toast. The smell of tomato juice and stewed beans was enough to make him sick. The only reason Samuel put up with it was that it was "traditional for the British folk".
Samuel brushed past David and stepped out of the kitchen.
"Hey, where you going?" David shouted.
"Town," Samuel replied.
"Wait, let me come!" David exclaimed, scrambling to collect himself.
"Ugh, fine!" Samuel fumed. He had wanted to go on his own, and foolishly, hoping to catch a glimpse of that Charles Lee.
Samuel waited for David to catch up, and the two brothers set pace down the paved streets towards New York.
Samuel quickly ducked out of sight. A group of loud and laughing rebels sauntered down the street, rubbing up against each other comfortably in their drunken state. Samuel turned back to David and saw that his brother had gone stark.
"What is it?" Samuel asked, perplexed and a little annoyed. Then Samuel let a huff of realization out of his mouth.
One of the drunken rebels was none other than Marquis de Lafayette.
"You idiot!" Samuel hissed.
"Sam!" David whispered.
"What?"
"I-I want to go and talk to him!"
"Then go, you idiot! Leave me alone!"
"But I'm scared!" David whined, clutching on Samuel's sleeve.
"Merciful heavens!" Samuel exclaimed, clapping his hand onto his forehead. "Just go, good man, and leave me alone!"
A shadow fell over the two quarreling boys.
"Do we have a problem here?" a familiar voice sneered.
Samuel whipped around to see Charles Lee smirking down at him, a baseball bat strapped to his back.
"Um…" Samuel squeaked.
"Bye!" David had taken one look at Charles's fit figure and dashed down the street, slipping into a small shop.
"Man, I just love it when you Loyalist wimps argue amongst yourselves. Very entertaining." Charles drawled.
Samuel frowned back, stung, and rudely pushed past Charles, making his way down the street.
"Hey!" Charles exclaimed, his hand flashing out and fastening it onto Samuel's shoulder.
Samuel cringed and jumped violently, startled, and nearly knocking over a little old lady with a few bags of shopping.
"What?" Samuel snapped, turning around.
"Where are you going?" Charles smirked.
"Why should I tell you?" Samuel replied.
"Because why not?" Charles said, rolling his eyes. "I'm bored, so that means you're stuck with me for the rest of the day."
"Fun." Samuel groaned sarcastically, but inside, something sparked, to his annoyance.
"Fuck you!" Charles spat.
They had gotten into another argument.
"Fuck you and your fucking Loyalist friends!"
"That's not nice," Samuel chided.
"I don't care!"
"With that attitude, you're not going to get far in life."
"I don't want any of your philosophical shit!" Charles snarled, running a hand through his hair.
"Well you're going to have to put up with it for now," Samuel said heavily, tired of fighting the annoying prick of a Patriot.
"Dammit," Charles cussed loudly, causing several women to gaze at him, affronted.
"On that note, I think it's time that I departed," Samuel sniffed, turning away. "Good bye."
Samuel had walked a few blocks before finally realizing that Charles had been following him the whole time.
"Why won't you just piss off?" Samuel sighed.
Charles was silent for a moment. "I don't want to."
"Great," Samuel sighed sarcastically. "Awesome, wow!"
Charles frowned at his shoes as they walked down the street in silence. Samuel saw the old church up ahead and quickened his pace, hoping to get rid of Charles. No luck.
They stopped in front of the church. Samuel's stomach churned, and he swallowed nervously. The previous night, Samuel's father insisted that he visit and pray and do whatever else people in the church did.
To be completely honest, Samuel was absolutely terrified of his father. His father, like so many other of his day, was homophobic. But Samuel Seabury Senior had noticed that his eldest son was lacking interest in women. This had lead to some suspicion.
Samuel realized that he had been trembling at the church front for a good thirty seconds. Charles was looking at him quizzically.
"Uh… Samuel? Are you okay?" Charles asked.
"Oh- yes. Fine. I just uh, need to go into the church to p-pay my father a… a visit…"
"You don't have to."
Samuel turned to Charles. "What?"
"Don't," Charles advised.
"Why not?" Samuel asked, startled, and a little bit confused and relieved.
"You don't want to do it."
"Says who?"
"Says me. You're trembling, Sam. Downright terrified."
"Don't call me 'Sam'," Samuel said.
Charles rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say, Sam."
Samuel sucked in a big breath of air and then let it out when he decided it was not worth the fight.
Charles looked over at Samuel with a concerned eye and then took the thinner boy's arm.
"Come on, let's get away from here. You look about ready to collapse."
Samuel let himself be meekly led away from the church, with its whitewashed walls and colorfully stained glass windows, depicting the Lord and his holiness.
Charles led him into a small and quaint coffee shop.
"Sit and stay," Charles said.
Samuel collapsed into a chair and buried his head down on the table. He heard Charles walk away, but then a minute or two later, the black-haired boy returned with two mugs of coffee.
Samuel lifted his head and gratefully accepted the drink, even though he hated coffee almost as much as beans on toast.
"T-thank you." Samuel murmured, and despite his best efforts, failed to hide a faint blush.
Charles said nothing but sipped his drink. The whole time, his eyes were trained out the window, as if he couldn't bring himself to look at Samuel's face.
Charles was done with his coffee even before Samuel had taken the first sip, but said nothing and waited patiently as Samuel took small and scalding sips of the rich brown liquid. Finally, once Samuel had finished, Charles started talking.
"What's up with you and churches?"
"Nothing," Samuel said, and when he caught Charles's disbelieving expression, elaborated.
"It's my father I'm… well…"
"Why?" Charles said.
Samuel shifted uncomfortably. To tell the truth, to a boy - a stranger - he met just yesterday? Or just make something up…
"He's homophobic," Samuel blurted.
Something flashed in Charles's eyes.
"Well," he replied steadily, "that shouldn't be a problem for you unless you're like gay or bi or something…"
Samuel sucked in his breath. Should he come out to this handsome boy, this complete stranger, this intelligent Charles Lee who read him as easily as a child's picture book, total Patriot, but who despite his rough exterior, obviously had a heart inside of him?
Charles was looking at him the whole time, a mild look in his murky brown eyes.
"I'm gay," Samuel said.
A look of surprise and possibly triumph flashed in Charles's eyes.
Samuel immediately cringed.
"Oh God," Samuel breathed. "I-er… I mean…"
"Cool," Charles said.
"What?" Samuel spluttered, aghast.
"Cool," Charles repeated. "I'm gay as fuck too."
Samuel blinked, something warm and light rising in his chest as he gazed at the handsomely gay boy in front of him.
"Cool," Samuel said. "Cool."
I have three fucking tests and a quiz next week that I'm procrastinating with this I'm so stressed out I swear to god one day I'll end up bald. My hair's falling out faster than these Hamilmemes are being created I swear I will murder all these dumbass teachers who ASSIGN THREE TESTS ON THE SAME DAY FUCK YOU ITS MIDNIGHT AND IM SLEEP DEPRIVED BUT STILL FUCK YOU I HATE SCHOOL