Matthew

We had eaten, our phones magnets and our eyes still. I wondered what he was doing, was he reading a book, scrolling through Instagram, watching a video.

He once told me of an app he downloaded to see virtual art museums, I could never fathom why people would go out of their way to see drawings in silence. That was until I found a muse that coloured me every shade of red and draws questions of manhood and sexuality.

"You know that Da Vinci guy," his voice muffled.

"Mhm."

"He made the white Jesus paintings, which are historically inaccurate. The man he used was his gay lover, his Italian white gay lover."

I was shocked momentarily; he had a pillow coddled between his limbs.

"Really"

He sat up, blonde and brown flopping onto a thin layer of perspiration, eyes flickered " yup, can you believe it."

"I guess so, it's kinda disgusting though."

"Yeah, it's fueled a lot of racism, superiority complex and the white saviour complex. Well, I suppose."

His eyes filled with emotions unfathomable, eyebrow-raising to the trumpets of heaven. Thoughts scoured his irises of emerald gold, I wanted to know what he was thinking.

"Let's play a game, " he was snapped out of a trance his phone soon feeling the almost silk bed sheet. He turned down the eyes of a man he refused to be the God he believed in, some call his action blasphemous but what is more blasphemous than the misrepresentation of ...

" What game ?"

He kissed his teeth, left eye twitch, lip tickled by that moist pink love spell.

"20 questions"

I looked at him, his eyes stared up then down. We were playing the game with or without my permission.

"Who starts?" I asked my toes wiggling within their Nike coffins.

"Me, " his eyes squinted as he was deep in thought. His beauty was subtle enough to overwhelm, that some anything made him the alien he claimed to feel like " What is the worst thing you've ever done ?"

My eyebrows evolving to become bordered by lifted skin.

"As in the thing that would get you most in trouble with your parents."

I skimmed my memories; what have I done that was more regrettable than letting go of my reality and replacing in with his scented chapstick. But I rather not start a conversation, I was the king of avoiding necessary confrontations.

"Uhh, that one time I snook out and went on to a party just to get smashed." A lie

His eyebrows raising with quick speed, " you did what."

Though it wasn't a boldface lie, it was a lie none the less. I don't know what about teenage alcoholism was worth bragging about, yet I did such because my heterosexuality mattered more than my liver.

"Well," I smiled toward the bedsheet not keeping eye contact, he liked his upper teeth " when I was a freshman there was a house party that I heard of so I wanted to go so I did. It wasn't my cup of tea but I got blasted, and I may or may not have made out with a girl in her junior year."

"Hmm ?"

"I said I made out with a junior," an uproar is what I wanted deep down. I wanted him to shout scream call the girl every name in the book, remind me that I'm his. But I never was.

He belonged to God, his parents and whichever women he described to them whenever they taunted him about his singleness. His lips weren't meant for me, so he didn't care.

"Okay cool."

was he hurt? Did he care? His eyes drifted and came back, they blinked away emotion. You know why should I care but if he cared I could learn that I wasn't in the wrong. I was though, but his lips a flavour of heaven promising that we were ordained by the hand of God as his right hand attended the ceremony.

"Yeah," my discomfort rising up my throat so I swallowed it " my turn. What was the most disrespectful thing you've done to a teacher."

He bit it, blood slowly rushing as his grip tightened. If he carried on it would've bled.

"That's tough because I'm an exemplary student, " he flicked his behind his ear dramatically within a cheeky smile at his lips " probably talking back or that one time I left class because the teacher was..."

"James Letesha did what ?" I gasped hand on my heart with a slacked jaw. No way, not my boy.

Eyes seeing their compartment, " are you done ?"

"No, I expected so much more from you. Honestly, I should've known you were a-a, " I wiped fake tears off my cheek " a ."

He smiled a shut up as I added further dramatics to my actions and tone. He threatened me to a dual of pillows and damp fists, I denied but before I had realised he had a pillow in hands. A clean swipe landing across my face, I was shocked.

He snickered, then chortled his gasps of laughter stuck in his throat.

My hand slyly lent back a pillow within the grasps of my fingertips. So before he could react I filled him with a barrage of feathered bullets.

He covered his head scream-laughs ricocheting against my skin, making it more vibrant. Colours of the rainbow painted my tongue.

My native tongue was no longer English rather one of snickers and discomforting happiness, discomfort always being an afterthought when I was laying in bed.

My arms tired so I rested them at either side of my torso, he took that opportunity to straddle my hips.

A short bright smile.

A short one before I could think of more words to describe it a pillow whipped my upper half. Screams as I attempted to cover myself. Luckily for me, his arms sustained enough damage from my attacks that he tired fast.

A short bright smile.

He was under me, the pillow discarded. A deer caught under headlights, and a shocked driver having realised that he nearly ran into a deer.

I had pinned his arms at either side of his head, 'subconsciously'.

We gazed upon at each other, confusion, desire, realising that learning was art when it came to deciphering the different shades of wonder in the other eyes. Learning was art when it came to wondering where to plot a kiss against the skin of the other equating to a new shadow of fulfilled scarlet upon their face. Learning was art when it came to wondering how many licks it took to get to his...

"It's my turn."

I saw his lips move his body turned within itself, he wanted a hideaway. Soon his allure was poison, my hands burn at the touch of his wrist that were at either side of his head. They were free from my retched touch.

"Yeah."

My body moved so that his could, a distance between the two of us. So much so that the contagion disease of sin and self-hate couldn't pass between us. But it could engulf us.

"Uhhh, " he kissed his teeth " if you had to save one person, me or Faye who would you save."

They both mean the world to me but, I can't live without my slightly chapped lips against yours.

"Neither."

His eyes widened, " No, pick. One"

"Well, your rude and she would get bored of me fast."

He smiled, " Who said I wouldn't get sick of you, who said I'm not already sick of you."

A short bright smile.

"You sure don't show it."

Some questions went by, some chuckles were exchanged and so were eye rolls.

"In honour of the age we both shall be turning this year (17) though I managed to be born before the deadline, " he faked a frown " who was your first kiss and what was her name."

I was overthinking it, I knew I was. But I knew that he couldn't fathom the thought that he stole it with a smug smile. He wasn't my technical first if you count childish truth or dare pecks but he's the only one who lasted more than two pucker lipped seconds.

I had never wiped him off my lips no matter how much I wanted to.

"Can you go first, " I plead.

"Okay, " he searched his memories " mine was probably my first girlfriend Clara. You remember her right."

He was straight, he felt nothing for me because he had had Clara. I had just been fooling myself thinking that each time he looked at me he was doing it with attraction. He's being his normal self, isn't he?

"Yeah, she was nice, " I was going to dig to find self-esteem " wait what went wrong with the two of you? You never told me."

His eyes went blank, his face lost a bit of colour.

"Nothing, in particular, we kinda drifted y'know. It was fun whilst it lasted."

I kissed my teeth, " Cool, my first was a girl named Elizabeth I think it was 6 or 7th grade."

He told me he was getting sleepy, it was nearly 11:30. I said same and got into bed, the first night was okay because we were hardly aware we fell asleep purely due to how tired we were.

That night we had to manoeuvre our bodies to not touch and not to fall off the bed at the same time. But his warmth brought me in, he was probably like a little radiator.

You know sleep can blind you more than you think. Subconsciously, I brought his body into mine putting an arm over his lower torso. It startled him until sleep tore at his eyes and my body became a source of heat in the bed. He muffled a good night before falling asleep, his alien boy shirt glowing.

His hair was soft.