mrsamct
Joined: 07 Aug 2011
Posts: 208
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 Kissing Art Davis - Part 1 |
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Hardwood Flooring
Animal Hospital Portland
Leon never liked girls, not in the same way his friends did. He’d kissed girls, he’d had sex with girls, he’d had plenty of girlfriends in the past, but he never liked them. He’d never like boys either, not until he met Art.
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It was nearing winter, and the boys’ boarding school harbored the same dismal feel it always did at this time of the year. Leon was feeling particularly miserable. It was his fourth year, his last, and he was enjoying his own room. Each year previously he had been forced to share a dorm with the most aggravating roommate. They were always too loud and too messy. But this year was different. After several letters of complaint and numerous phone calls from his dad, Leon had been promised his own room. And then today he was bombarded with the news of a new arrival that he’d have to share with. There was no point in further argument, it wouldn’t get him anywhere.
Leon lay in his bed that Sunday morning, throwing his hand ball repeatedly at the pale grey walls, waiting. The dorm already felt too cluttered now that another bed and wardrobe had been shoved in the opposite corner. At least Leon got the window half, about the only upside. He wasn’t cynical, not always. It was just that once he found himself in a bad mood, it became impossibly hard to come out of. His friends had noticed it too, and had learnt to avoid him when he fell into one. They would often joke about it being ‘his time of the month’. Leon didn’t find it funny, but would force a laugh to please them. They’d taken to calling him ‘Barbie’ as well, a reference to his blonde hair and blue eyes, or maybe it was because he couldn’t kick a football to save his life. Either way, Leon knew they meant no harm by it, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t irritating.
It had just hit midday when he heard someone knock against his door. It was a firm knock, the overly loud ones the teachers always used as a way of acting intimidating, and it worked. Leon sat up in his bed as the door was pushed open, giving him no chance to answer it. Mr Crowley, the dorm supervisor, entered first. He was fairly old with a shining bold spot at the top of his head and a sagging beer belly from all the alcohol and cafeteria doughnuts. His eyes scanned the room and then rested accusingly on Leon. He hadn’t done anything wrong, he knew that, but the firm look still made Leon feel as though he had. Mr Crowley was followed closely behind by the new guy.
He would be popular amongst the girls in the opposite boarding school; that was Leon’s first thought. He conveyed that rugged, mysterious look that all girls seem to find attractive for some reason. He had dark brown and wavy hair, which looked as though it hadn’t been cut in a long while, and slightly tanned skin with prominent stubble lining his jaw. He wore a dark leather jacket over his lean build, and eyed Leon curiously through piercing green eyes. Leon didn’t know what to think of him. It was hard to believe he was only seventeen, he appeared to be much older. And his laid back attitude and casual walk wasn’t very promising.
"Leon, this is Arthur... Arthur, Leon," Mr Crowley introduced the two, gesturing with his hands.
"Just Art," he corrected, throwing his suitcase onto the spare bed.
"Whatever," Mr Crowley mumbled uninterestedly as he turned to leave the room.
Leon was alone with Arthur, left wondering about what he could say to fill the silence. He watched as he started to unpack his suitcase, throwing random pieces of clothing into the bottom of his wardrobe. Great, Leon thought, he was one of those messy ones. He left the school uniform until last, throwing his white shirt, gray jumper, and black trousers to the top of the hefty pile.
"So, Arthur..." Leon began ineptly, wondering what he was going to say.
"Art," he corrected for the second time, shrugging off his jacket.
"Sorry, Art," it was a dumb name. "Why are you starting so late in the year?"
"My Dad made me," he explained simply, throwing his empty case to the floor and falling back onto his bed. Leon watched him, lying calm and still. He lifted his arms, resting the back of his head in his hands. The hem of his band T-shirt had lifted revealing the tanned skin around his hipbones and the trail of curled dark hair that crawled its way up to his bellybutton. "Oh, shit," Leon heard him moan suddenly, sitting bolt upright. "I forgot my deodorant, mind if I burrow yours till I get some?"
Yes. "No, I don’t mind."
Leon didn’t like him. Art was too content for his liking. Too unconcerned and unorganized. People could never succeed with that attitude. He lay back on his bed and lifted the sheets over his head. It was only lunchtime, but Leon already felt drained of energy. He heard Art lift a can of spray from the draw beside his bed, and listened as he squirted each armpit. He used too much of it, turning its usually subtle sent into something more intoxicating.
"So, what’s it like here?" Leon heard Art ask from over his head. "I’ve heard some pretty wild stories."
"It’s boring," he mumbled in response through the bed sheets.
"But there’s a girls school over the hills, right? Doesn’t that get fun?"
Leon heard himself sigh. "I suppose."
Art must have sensed Leon’s reluctance to talk. He returned to his own side of the room, throwing himself onto the bed, and sighing exaggeratedly, trying to make his boredom obvious. Leon couldn’t understand him. It was as if he was expecting a party with loud music and girls lined up outside his door within the first few hours of his arrival. Art just didn’t understand how things worked here.
It was forbidden to associate with members from the girls school except during special occasions, such as the lame joined school dances. It was against the rules to smoke or drink on school property, and mobile phones were collected in by the supervisors and were only allowed to be used on Wednesday evenings and weekends. Like all the other boys, Leon wasn’t fond of rules and wouldn’t hesitate to break them at any possible chance. For instance, he along with a group of friends would organize secret meetings with the girls in the surrounding hills and forest areas where the teachers wouldn’t spot them. He had once been especially fond of one of the girls named Alice, platonically of course, and they would meet on a regular basis. She was fairly short with the largest breasts he had ever seen that bounced each time she jumped or ran. But they hadn’t spoken in almost two months. Leon had simply told her that he thought she was pretty but wasn’t physically attracted to her. He hadn’t meant it as an insult, he was merely complimenting his like for her personality, though she didn’t take it in that way, and ordered him to stay away from her.
The rules were firm, and held strict punishment for anyone who broke them. Even attempting to required tact. But Art didn’t seem like the secretive sort. He was too prominent. His blunt words and indiscreet actions would ruin it for the rest of the guys. Art needed to be more diplomatic, though Leon wasn’t prepared to be the one to teach him this.
"I’m hungry," Art declared unexpectedly. "Show me where the canteen is."
"No," Leon groaned, his head still buried beneath his sheets. He heard the light moan of the mattress as Art leapt up from it.
"Fine," he retorted sarcastically. "I’ll find it myself. It will be easy... I’ll just follow the smell of bacon." He heard the door swing open and felt the cold breeze lift the bottom of his sheets. "Mmm... the best fuckin’ smell in the world." And the door shut loudly behind him.
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Leon was woken a few hours later by the sound of the door opening and closing loudly followed by shouted whispers. He lifted his head from out of the covers and was surprised with darkness; he had slept through the whole day. The faint outline of more than one silhouette was visible at Art’s side of the room. Numerous voices muttered over each other, debating on a topic Leon was too tired to make sense of.
"What time is it?" He asked, yawning as he did so. The light flickered on moments later, and their voices rose instantly.
"He’s awake!" One of them shouted. It took Leon’s eyes a fair while to adjust to the harsh white light, but he recognized the voice. Ethan from his French class. He struggled to haul himself up into sitting position, feeling stiff and uncomfortable still in his jeans and jumper. Ethan wondered over to him, jumping onto the end of his bed in the playful way boys did, and bit into a pasty he had in his hands, unconcerned about spilling crumbs over Leon’s bed. He had always thought Ethan was strange looking, not in a particularly bad way. He had ears that came out a little too far and nose that flicked comically at the end.
He turned to see Art sat on his own bed with another boy Leon recognized but had never spoken to. They were sorting through a pile of DVD’s he didn’t remember Art unpacking. They were conversing enthusiastically in a way Leon found irritating. He was impressed at how quickly he had managed to make friends. It had taken Leon at least two weeks to make even one friend in his first year.
"You didn’t tell me your new roommate was cool," Ethan accused through a full mouth. He chewed needlessly loudly.
"I only met him this morning," he answered, wiping his eyes as he crawled out from his bed. He moved to sit at the edge. "What are they doing?" Leon asked, gesturing to the two still lost in an eager exchange.
"Mark is lending him his portable DVD player and the box set of Battlestar Galactica!" Ethan seemed just as excited as they did.
"Ah, so Arthur is a sci-fi nerd," Leon joked.
"Art," he heard Art correct from across the room, his eyes still firmly fixed on the DVD’s in front of him. Leon didn’t like his blasé way of speaking, as though nothing and no one concerned him.
"Whatever," he retorted, mimicking Mr Crowley’s nonchalant tone. He rose from his bed, leaving the three alone as he headed to the shower room.
The shower room was a large white hall, with a tiled floor and ceiling. It consisted of various bath tubs and shower areas where the boys weren’t given an opportunity of privacy. There was another smaller hall beside it, similar to this one, lined with numerous toilet cubicles, urinals, and basins.
It was fairly empty by this time, with only a handful showering, though it didn’t rid Leon from feeling too exposed. He slipped a white towel around his waist when he was done, lifting his clothes into a bundle in his harms and padding bare foot back to his room. Ethan and Mark were gone by this time, leaving Art laying alone on his bed. He had his head resting on his arms again, and his eyes closed. Leon hadn’t noticed he was staring until Art opened his eyes and caught him. He shrugged it off, turning to throw his dirty clothes into the laundry bag at the end of his bed. Art closed his eyes again, falling back into a peaceful state as Leon slipped on a clean pair of boxers before he turned out the lights and clambered back into bed.
"You’re still tired?" He heard Art question. There was evident amusement in his tone. "You’ve done nothing but sleep all day."
"There’s hardly anything else to do." He didn’t like the clarity of his own voice through the darkness. With no other distractions his voice felt uncomfortably naked.
"You could always suck my dick."
"Tempting," Leon retorted sarcastically, recognizing his attempt at humor. He watched Art’s silhouette clamber out from his bed, as he stretched his arms out and yawned. He saw his hands fall to the hem of his shirt as he lifted it over his head, and then bend low to unbuckle his belt and slip his jeans off. He threw them carelessly to the floor, creating even further mess. But for some reason Leon wasn’t as mad about it as he thought he would be. He caught himself gawking, his eyes fixated on the tall and lean build outlined in front of him. He liked that it was dark and Art couldn’t tell where his eyes were focused, but at the same time he wished it was light so that he could witness the full intensity of his tanned torso. The thought was rather disturbing, and slightly sickening, but even with the largest of pushes it refused to leave his confused mind.
"It’s a nice view," Art commented. It took Leon longer than it should have to realize he was referring to the view from the window. His outline was black and sharp against the pale glow of the moon. Leon liked the curve of his neck, long and graceful, and the smooth but prominent outline of his Adam’s apple. Was it normal to like that?
Leon had sat and listened to his friends talk about girls many times before. They would share their experiences, their thoughts and their intentions. But Leon had never been able to fully relate. He remembered one particularly awkward conversation with his friend Kevin about breasts.
"I like touching them," Kevin revealed over a can of stolen beer. "She said she likes it when I lick them." Leon tried to nod his head in agreement, but just imagining the scene gave him chills. He wouldn’t have revealed anything he truly felt in any normal circumstances, but on that particular night he admittedly was slightly drunk. Not only that, Kevin had been his best friend for two years. He felt as though he could confide in him.
"I don’t like them," Leon heard himself slur. "They are ugly," he saw Kevin’s look of disbelief. "They ruin the body. Breasts are just these huge dangling balls of fat." Obviously Kevin disagreed. Leon was only grateful that Kevin had no memory of his revelation the following morning.
He didn’t like girls, but he had heard plenty to know that other boys his age did. Although, liking boys was never the concern. He had never found himself attracted to a boy before, and never thought he would. He wanted to be like everyone else. He wanted to find a girl and get married and have loads of kids. Or at least that’s what he was supposed to want. No one had ever talked about this before. None of the other boys had ever talked about feeling attracted to another guy. What was Leon supposed to do?
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mrsamct |
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