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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

The Scarlet F - 20. Chapter 20- Sweet Burning

"What about David Johnson?" Shawna whispered to me as we danced with each other at some classmate's party.

"I would say he's a 7." I chuckled.

Things had been great with Shawna. We had gotten much so closer since I came out. She had really embraced me as her gay best friend. She even called herself a fag hag in training.

"What about Mitch Goldberg? He's a pretty good dancer." I asked her motioning to the very white boy doing the disco.

She laughed, "A 5, he's okay for a white boy. But too dorky for me."

I guess I had a thing for dorky white boys.

We went on the dancing hip to hip with our arms laced over each other until I felt something being placed in my hand.

I looked over to see a beer bottle.

"Drink up everybody." the host cheered.

Without even thinking I started to bring the bottle to face.

Shawna grabbed my hand, "Maybe you shouldn't."

I chuckled, "What? Why?"

She rolled her eyes, "You should be careful."

She was right. But...

"Come on Shawna, I think can handle a beer."

"James! I won't drink either so you won't be alone." She commanded putting down the beer in her hand.

Then she had to say it.

"You know that if Matt were here he would be saying the same thing."

She had to bring him up.

My dear Matthew was sitting in his room still moping with confusion. We haven't really talked.

"I think I can handle it."

Then I shifted back to the bottle. I brought it to my face and took a drink.

"Oh wow," I screamed out feeling the burning hitting me.

***

I was about pretty buzzed when I stole a bottle of whiskey from the party. Bad habits galore. It was easier to steal under the influence. I just hid it under my jacket and walked out. As I left Shawna put her hand on my shoulder.

"Do you need a ride home?"

I shook my head, "No, I'll walk."

"Don't do anything stupid, okay?"

I nodded.

***

I climbed up to Matt's window. He was at his desk reading wearing a white shirt and plaid PJ pants.

"Knock, knock Matthew Edwards." I laughed banging on the glass, "I got a present for you."

Matt got up and let me in.

"Jamie, what are you doing here?"

I picked up the bottle and held up to his face, "You want some?

"What is this?"

"Whiskey."

"God Jamie," he said, "How did you even get that?"

"I borrowed it from the party."

He stared down at the brown liquid, "What does it taste like?"

"Horrible."

Matt took it and stared at it. I grabbed it and drank more. The fire hit me again. My head felt lighter.

"It really takes away the pain." I said, "It makes me feel better. At least try it?"

I handed him the bottle again. He stared at it again for a couple of seconds.

"If it will make me feel less pathetic, than..." He drank it.

***

We sat on his bed passing the bottle around. We were playing around, laughing at each other's drunken grammar.

"Can I ask you something?" he said.

"Anything." I slurred.

"Why didn't you ever tell me you were gay?"

He was bound to bring it up sooner or later.

I looked down at the bottle, "Why didn't you ever tell me you were gay?"

"You go first, Jamie."

I took a drink, "Mac, for the longest time I couldn't even tell myself. You know how I grew up. You know, you have no idea how hard I tried to change myself to try to be like other guys."

He slightly raised his eyebrows, "That kinda surprises me."

"What?" I asked.

"I always thought of you as the independent thinker. I was always the conformist. I had to have the same toys as everybody else. I had to get a girlfriend like everybody else. I had to follow the white picket fence like everybody else." he took another sip, "I thought you were always different. You thought deeper than everybody else."

"You really think that much of me?"

He nodded and smiled.

"So is that why you never tell me? Because of the whole conformity thing?"

"I guess, for the most part. I think I knew since we were kids, that I was somehow different. But the only time I really about...gay people were in the news, either about AIDS or some sort of hate crime." He shook his head. "It seems like being gay meant being sick, lonely, and miserable. It felt easier just to marry Alfreda and be normal."

"Is that still what you want?"

"I adore Alfreda. I really do. I could've seen myself marrying her...but that wouldn't be fair to either of us." He took a drink, "And I wish I could've been able to talk to you about it. But I thought you would beat me up, or call me a fag or something."

He moved closer. He defiantly smelled like alcohol. "I remember being so jealous watching you made out with all those girls."

"I've been crushing on since forever." My drunken heart sank.

"Seriously?" he asked.

The next thing I knew his warm arms were around me. I returned the hug, our bodies pressed up against each other. We turned our heads and faced each other. All I could think about was his lips, and looking into his eyes I got a feeling he was thinking about mine. We both lean into each other, and then I felt our lips pressed against each other. The taste of his hot whiskey breath was a sweet burning. Matt pulled me tighter and I pushed his teeth apart with my tongue. As his tongue became intertwined with mine, my brain exploded and my body tinkled, he dug his nails into my back. I slammed his body on the bed. I put my hands on his waist as he bucked his hips deep into my mine.

Matt broke the kiss but didn't let go of me. He just stared into my eyes taking time to catch his breath.

"I love you." He whispered before kissing me again.

I couldn't believe it. I couldn't have imaged that I could feel so high.

We heard the bottle fall off the bed and scattered. But that didn't stop us. I unbuttoned his jeans and unzipped his fly.

"What the hell is going here?"

Matt and I pulled away from each other to see Mr. and Mrs. Edwards staring at us with gaping mouths.

They saw the broken bottle all over the floor. They saw their son's pants were opened. And they saw my hand in them.

This really didn't look good. I immediately removed my hand and jumped off the bed.

Matt sat up grumbling, "Um...Dad."

"Get out." Mr. Edwards screamed at me. His voice hurt my ears. "Get out of my house."

I wasn't shocked though it did hurt a little considering I thought we had a better relationship than that.

"Dad, " Matt barked. "No, it wasn't like that..."

He pointed at his son, "You be quiet. You're in trouble too." He shook his head, "For 17 years I've welcomed you into my home, I've fed you my food, and I've put up with all of your shit. And in return you bring alcohol into my house, knowing I feel about it. And not only do you get yourself drunk, but you bring him down with you."

"Mr. Edwards I..."

"Get out of my house." He screamed.

I crawled out the window.

***

My insides were burning. I had an overwhelming headache in the morning. I wish I could say that I got drunk enough to forget what happened the night before. But no, I actually remembered everything.

"Are you kidding me?" Tony yelled walking into my room.

"What now, Tony?"

"James, you got drunk."

Then my eyes turned to Brian.

"Hey James."

"I invited your brother to come over and help me talk to you."

"Oh my god, so everybody's ganging up with me. I drank a beer."

"I heard it was more. And I you stole a bottle of whiskey."

"How you did you find out?"

"Doesn't matter how we found out, how much did you drink?"

"I don't know." I sat down, "What's the big deal?"

"Well, drinking is a big deal for us." Brian bit. He looked at me confused, "Do you want to end up like Dad?"

"Oh please" I laughed. "Don't talk about my dad like that. When you have no idea, who he is."

"I know that he is an ugly drunk and shitty person."

I got up and I pushed him onto the floor.

Tony pulled me off of him.

"James." Tony started trying to calm me down.

"Just don't ever talk about him like that," I screamed on.

I sat on my bed and started crying.

"I don't want to be like that."

Brain sat down next to me rubbing my shoulders, "It's okay."

"I'm sorry," I said, "I pushed you."

"I'm okay," Jack said, "I can help you get through this."

***

I went to the Edwards' house to try to mend any wounds that I could. Mr. Edwards saw me through the kitchen window and opened the door.

"Hi." I swallowed standing in his doorway. "I just want you to know that I'm not going to drink anymore. But if you want me to stay away from Matt I understand.

"Come on in." He motioned. "James I'm sorry, I said something that I shouldn't have. I was mad"

I nodded, "I probably would've reacted the same way if I saw...well what you saw. I'm so sorry Mr. Edwards, I would never pressure Matt into doing anything, and if I..."

"Wow." Mr. Edwards cut me off laughing, "It took two forever."

"What?" I blurted out, "Wait you know that I'm...you know."

"Gay?" He laughed, "Yea we all know."

"I'm sorry," I mumbled.

Mr. Edwards stared at me confused, "Sorry? Sorry for what? I don't care that you're gay or that Matthew is gay. What I do care about is you two going off drinking...you know that I'm worried that alcoholism runs in both of our families. Be gay, just don't be alcoholics."

I had to laugh at that.

I nodded, "Trust me this experience really made me understand that. I hate that the way I acted...I swear I'll never do it again."

He placed his hand on my shoulder, "I'm glad you're okay now."

"So if Matt and I were...like together...that wouldn't bother you?"

"Despite everything I know about you, I approve."

"Good. Because I love him so much that it scars the shit out of me."

That I was the first time I said that out loud.

I smiled, "Yea, I love him."

"I love you too." I heard Matt call out. He had been standing on the stairway the whole time.

Mr. Edwards winked at me and chuckled, "I'll give you guys some time to talk."

He waved leaving the kitchen.

"Mac. I'm sorry..."

"Does it still scare you...being gay?" He sat down at the table.

"Yea," I sat down next to him. "Are you scared?"

"Yea, of course," He said. "I'm surprised that you would even be interested in me."

"What? Why wouldn't I be?"

"Oh come on, you're James. You're the guy everybody wants. You're more popular. You're more interesting. Not to mention way more attractive."

I laughed, "Honestly, I'm surprised you would be like me. I'm 'wild', 'troublesome', and an all-around screw-up."

Matt rolled his eyes, "You don't ever give yourself enough credit." He laughed sliding his fingers across my hand.

I turned my hand over, "You always see the good inside of me."

He clasped our hands, "I just wish we hadn't ruined our first kiss. I mean the feeling was amazing, I wouldn't take that back. I just can't believe it was while we were drunk."

"Were you hoping for something more romantic?"

"Yea." He nodded.

I grabbed his hand, "Come on".

I playfully dragged him upstairs to his bedroom.

"What's going on?" He asked giving me a look.

I walked him over the window, "This is the window where you took me in so many times. This is the room where we held each other until we fell asleep so many times...how about a redo first kiss?"

He laughed and connected our other hands, "Okay, but you gotta make this sappy."

I laughed, "Fine."

I licked my lips thinking about what to say.

Matt laughed, "Oh just cut the chatter and kiss me." He leaned in placed in lips on mine.

I gladly smiled and moved into the kiss. It didn't take long before we pressed up against each other, the heat vibrating through my body. I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck and felt him squeezing my waist.

Why the hell did it take us so long?

Copyright © 2019 Another Gay Writer; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Hi, yes. I'm so sorry. There was an error with the automatic publishing. Chapter 19 is posted now and 20 will be reposted. Thank you for reading my story and for bringing this to my attention.  

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