Chapter Text
Everything I Didn‘t Say- Muke
Michael Clifford. I wasted a whole year of my life hating him. Well I never really did hate him, I pretended I did. I made myself hate him, because I couldn’t let myself fall any further for him. I knew that I would just end up embarrassed with a broken heart.
I remember the first time I saw him. It was the terrifying first day of secondary school. He was in my base-class and he was sat next to me. He smiled and said “hey” and I whispered “hi” back. He started chatting to me, not paying any attention what so all to the teacher. He started talking about video games and music, and I agreed with everything he had to say. I stared at him, mesmerized. It wasn’t that he was so good looking (even though he was, even in his oversized uniform with his fringe sweeping past his green eyes), but it was everything; the way that he talked to me like we had been friends for years, the way that he sat, slouched with his hands stretched on the table, the way that he didn’t try to make a good impression with the teachers and the way that he actually listened to what I had to say even though I was stammering. I instantly knew I wanted to be best friends with him. He just seemed so cool. I even wanted to be him. The more I thought about it, that morning I decided I even wanted to kiss him. I had never once in my life even considered that I might be gay, but by that afternoon I was sure of it.
I didn’t act on it though, not then anyway. I was so glad to had made a friend so easily and I wasn’t going to ruin it. I was always shy and had trouble making friends but with Michael it was just so easy. And he wasn’t just talking to me because I was sitting next to him, he genuinely wanted to be friends.
We ate lunch together and sat together in every class for the first week at school. Soon we found we were hanging out with each other after school and texting well into the early hours of the morning. We sat in my room eating chips and playing Fifa. We talked about girls, bands, our mutual hate of school, anything really. We never got bored.
The more I hung out with him, I realised just how much I was in love with him. I smiled when he said my name, I laughed when he laughed, I made sure I never beat him in video games, I didn’t complain about anything he did and every time my phone beeped I ran to in hope it was him, and 95% of the time it was. If I had to describe him in one word it would be perfect and I wouldn’t even be exaggerating. Everything he did was perfect in everyway. He spoke perfectly. He looked more than perfect. I made myself promise that I wouldn’t try and do anything about it unless I was absolutely sure he felt the same way, which was the problem. He did. Or at least I thought he did then. He showed all signs that he did: He always laughed at my jokes. He smiled when he saw me. He called me “Lukey” and occasionally “cuzmuffin.” He walked home from school with me and waited for me by my locker. He posted cute things on my facebook wall a lot. He put his head on my shoulder. Once when we were out and it was freezing, he gave me his hoodie and insisted he was warm. He hugged me and said “I love you” without ever saying “No Homo”. There was one major problem, he was kinda girl obsessed.
“How far have you got with a girl?” he asked one day in the middle of a particularly uninteresting geography lesson.
“Second base,” I mumbled. It wasn’t a lie. When I was kissing a girl I had quite awkwardly touched her boob, but by the look she gave me I assumed I was doing it wrong.
Michael laughed. “I got a handjob once!” he smirked.
“Really? From who?” I asked in awestruck. I don’t know what surprised me more, the fact that he had already gotten that far or the fact that I was turned on by the thought of it.
“She doesn’t go here. And I didn’t ask her name,” he said.
“Asshole,” I laughed. I hesitated before asking, “Was it any good?”
He shrugged before saying, “I could of done a lot better myself!”
I half smiled half grimaced, embarrassed.
“Anyway that’s past the point! I was thinking that we should do something different tonight!” he said.
“Different? Like what?” I asked.
“We should go out!” he suggested. My heart started beating faster. Was he asking me out? “Not with each other obviously!” he said, interrupting my thoughts. I knew it was too good to be true. “I have a date and I asked her to bring a friend along, so wanna come on a double date? I think she’s hot!”
“Sure,” I shrugged. “Why not?” Even though I knew exactly why not. A million different excuses passed through my mind but I couldn’t bring myself to say one. I didn’t want to disappoint him. It was better anyway, I didn’t want him to suspect that I had a “crush” on him.
So I went, dressed in black skinny jeans and an ALT shirt and it sucked. So bad. The girl was hot. She had long slender legs and luscious brown curls, big blue eyes and a gorgeous grin. Not to mention her tits were huge. She was so hot that I had to rethink being gay. But it just wasn’t right. For some unknown strange reason, she seemed to like me. She was so outgoing and bubbly and I was so shy and reserved. She whispered to me through out the stupid movie we were watching. She held on to my hand and put her head on my shoulder. I should have been in ecstasy, like any normal teenage boy would. But it just felt so foreign and wrong to me. I whished she was Michael.
Michael himself ended up with his date on his lap, right in the middle of the theatre, kissing her like the horny teenage boy he was, his hands in her hair. I felt an immense hate for her and at that very moment for him too. So I did the only thing I could think of, I kissed the girl. I suddenly felt a huge rush of confidence, so I told her that she looked beautiful tonight. She giggled so I put my hands on her face and kissed her. I don’t know how long it went on for, but I knew that even though it felt good I wasn’t enjoying it, but she seemed really into it. When we eventually broke apart Michael was leaning away from his date, looking at what seemed at the time, jealously at us. I smirked.
“I think we’re gonna go outside,” I whispered into his ear before taking the girls hand and leaving. I was pretty certain Michael wasn’t jealous of the girl, so I assumed he was jealous of me. I wanted to make him more jealous, because I was angry that it wasn’t me he was kissing, so I pressed the girl against the wall in the cool night air and kissed her quite roughly, even though I had no desire to. I picked her up in my arms, holding her ass in my hands with her hands in my hair as we kissed. The taste of her cherry lip gloss was overwhelming. It seemed like we stayed like that for hours. I put her down, breathless and turned to see Michael and his date, standing apart, staring at us.
“I think it’s time we leave now,” Michael said after an awkward silence. I exchange numbers with the girl even though I had no intentions whatsoever of calling her.
“Can I crash at your house tonight?” It was the first thing Michael asked as we begun our long walk home.
“Sure,” I said. We walked in silence before I finally said, “so?”
“So what?” he asked, as if nothing in the previous hours had happened.
“How was she?” I said.
“Horrible kisser,” he shuddered. I laughed. “Yours?” he asked.
“Amazing kisser!” I smiled. I paused before mumbling, “It didn’t feel right though?”
“What’s that?” he asked so I repeated myself, louder this time. “Yeah, I know how you feel man,” he agreed. “In the last few weeks, every time I kissed a girl it just feels strange, unnatural” I stared him. Was he saying what I thought he was?
“Stop staring at me like that! I can’t help it,” Michael said.
“Sorry- No! I feel the same way!” I agreed.
“Really? I don’t think you understand,” he told me.
“Yes. I do,” I said. We looked at each other. We both knew what needed to be done, but neither of us had the balls to do it. But I don’t know what had come over me and for the second time that night I was feeling overly confident. So I did it. I kissed him. It was everything I dreamed it would be and more. It was so perfect. But the strange thing was, he didn’t even hesitate to kiss back. His hands were on my hips pulling me closer the second our lips met. After all those meaningless kisses with girls, I knew this was right. But suddenly, I got nervous. Reality came back to me and I was kissing Michael out in the street in the dark and it was just starting to rain. What would he think? He must think I am so weird, and a horrible kisser. I abruptly pulled away.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, not looking him in the eye. He took his hand off my hips and brought them to my face, tilting it so I would look him in the eyes.
“Luke?” he asked.
“Yeah?” I said, thinking he was going to yell at me any moment now.
“Shut up!” he smirked. This time he kissed me, pressing me up against a wall and running his hands through my hair. It was every bit as good as the last. I thought I was dreaming, but the butterflies I had confirmed this was real life.
“Woah,” Michael said, after he finally stopped kissing me.
“Woah,” I agreed, laughing.
“I was waiting for that to happen!” he smirked. I blushed, and he took my hand in his and we continued to walk to my house. After a brief and awkward encounter with my mum we went upstairs to my room. There, we resumed kissing, which neither of us could seem to get enough of.
“This is so wrong, Lukey,” Michael mumbled, breathless. We were both sitting on my bed.
“I don’t care,” I told him, meaning it. I honestly didn’t care what anyone thought once I could have Michael.
“You’re so cute, babe,” Michael laughed. Babe. I almost died. Michael had called me cute and babe in one sentence. I couldn’t help but lean in and kiss him again. I lost count of how many times we kissed that night, each kiss more perfect than the last. I was beginning to think he was playing a trick on me, trying to make me look stupid.
“Mikey?” I pulled away looking him in the eyes. “Are you gay?” He looked me up and down, I could almost hear him trying to form a coherent thought.
“We really shouldn’t be doing this,” he finally said. I could feel tears forming behind my eyes. I knew what was going to happen. He was going to pretend this never happened. Leave me heartbroken. I knew he didn’t want this. Not like I did.
“Please Mikey,” I whispered, starting to cry.
“Don’t cry baby,” he said, immediately pulling me to his chest. “Please.”
“Do you want this?” I asked. He didn’t answer. “Do you want this?” I repeated.
“I do, Luke. I do,” he told me. I could feel that he was staring to cry. I started to say something but he stopped me saying, “Let’s just sleep. We can talk in the morning,” he said. I nodded, still crying and took off my jeans as he did the same.
“Sleep in my bed with me?” I asked hopefully.
“Of course,” he whispered in my ear, laying down next to me. Maybe he did want this as much as I did. He wrapped his arms around me and I let myself become enveloped in his touch. Neither of us slept much, but I knew we were both comforted in each other’s arms. He kept kissing my forehead and whispering “sorry” when he thought I was asleep. I felt complete and totally safe in his arms, but I knew everything would be different when I woke up.