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Warning: Contains Boys Love and vulgar language.

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Chapter 10: Trial and Error


“Elliot, how come you’re not outside?”

Elliot glanced up from the monitor of his computer, meeting Jacqueline’s shy gaze before swallowing a thick lump at the back of his throat. “…Just don’t feel like it,” he answered in a stiff voice.

Which was far from the truth.

He hadn’t gone outside for lunch for over a week now. Everyday after third period, when he approached that fork in the hallway, he always chose the safest route, the one that promised no difficulties. It didn’t matter that the council room felt stuffy, or that he couldn’t concentrate on his work anymore…none of that mattered, because the Student Council room was reliable, and there was no way he could go outside again.  

So what if he missed the outside and the fresh air, the freckled boy and his infectious laughter, or the foreign joy he’d experienced over the past few weeks? None of that mattered now. He was inside, and he was going to stay inside.

“Besides,” Elliot said, tearing his mind away from the memories of the last few weeks, “I have work to do.” Then he went back to staring at the bright monitor.

The same old look of worry crossed Jacqueline’s round face, and her hand moved, as if to touch Elliot’s shoulder. She hesitated; her hand dropped back to her side. “…Did something happen?”

Elliot’s shoulders tensed. “No.” He didn’t want to think about it. As far as he was concerned, if he didn’t think about it, then it never happened. Nothing had happened, and that was how it was going to stay.

The sides of Jacqueline’s mouth pulled into a small frown. She grabbed a nearby chair and sat down beside Elliot, hands planted firmly on her knees, back straight, and her white-blonde curls tumbling down over one tiny shoulder. She looked like humble royalty. “Are you sure? You don’t look all right. Why aren’t you outside, like usual?”

“It doesn’t matter.” His eyes hardened as he focused as much of his energy on his work, the keys clacking in a rushed sync as his fingers flew over the keyboard, the black text flashing on the white screen. Work is a blessing, he reasoned. Work kept him distracted. Work kept him focused on what really mattered. Work…

He groaned and pressed a finger on the backspace button, deleting a good few of the sentences he’d just speed-typed. Work was useless when it was done incorrectly, no thanks to his mind being so caught up in the trap of personal teenage drama. And it didn’t help having Jacqueline watch him so intently, either. Elliot shifted in his seat and cleared his throat. “Don’t even worry about it, Jacqueline. I just feel like being inside.”

Jacqueline’s eyes studied him for a moment longer, then breathed a sigh of relief. Her full lips curled back into her familiar and comforting smile. Then her hand touched his shoulder.

“I’m glad to hear that,” she said in a gentle voice. “I’m not happy that you’re troubled, but I am glad you’re here.” A gentle blush reddened her cheeks, and the hand on his shoulder became lighter as less weight was exerted, as if she were too shy to touch him. “I…I missed you.”

“We see each other all the time in class,” Elliot responded, arching an eyebrow. They both shared the same second and third period, and then there was always the Student Council. How could she possibly miss him when they saw each other daily?

Jacqueline shook her head. “That’s not the same. I meant I missed spending time with you like this. Even if you’re troubled, you’re here, and that makes me happy.”

Elliot’s frown softened and lost some of its edge, but her well-meant words weren’t enough to completely dispel the disgruntlement that occupied  his every thought and feeling. So he thanked her and left it at that.

Jacqueline stayed in her seat and began to talk to him, much like they used to all of the time, back when things felt safe and normal. He tried his best to enjoy her company, her plentiful smiles and thoughtful words, and he did. He always enjoyed Jacqueline’s company. However, none of it could compare. Nothing could compare to what he’d experienced not even a week ago…

But, he couldn’t go back and face him again. He just couldn’t.

“Are you excited for my party tonight?”

Elliot blinked, the words “party” and “tonight” snatching his attention. Had he zoned out again? “Party?” he repeated. “That’s tonight?”

Jacqueline sighed pouted with playful chastising. “Of course. Today is Friday and Halloween. Ergo, my Halloween party is tonight. Did you really forget?”

“No. I’ve just been so busy lately…”

Jacqueline shrugged her shoulders, accepting the unfinished answer. “Fair enough. Anyway, you are coming, right?”

Elliot went to agree when he paused and remembered that Jacqueline had given him an invitation, too. “I don’t know,” he answered with a guilty sigh. He’d promised her that he’d go weeks ago, but he could feel his conviction slipping away from his grasp, his courage weakening.

The smile on Jacqueline’s lips disappeared. She looked oddly somber. “But you promised.”

At the sound of her disappointment, the guilt became that much more burdening. Elliot didn’t want to go back on his word, but what else could he do? He couldn’t face him again. Elliot studied Jacqueline’s sad eyes and caved.

“How many people are going?”

“Lots,” Jacqueline replied. “Chances are that there will be more people than originally planned. You know how parties go. Luckily my parents are out for the weekend, and my brother is going over to his friend's for the night. I just hope no one breaks anything.”

Elliot nodded, his mind already conjuring up a battle plan. Lots of people meant a large crowd. If he played his cards right, then maybe he wouldn’t have to see him at all. “All right,” he agreed at last. “I’ll be there.”

Jacqueline clapped her hands together, beaming with delight. Her joy should have filled him with earned pride for making his best friend so happy.

But it didn’t.

All he could think about was avoiding him…

Couldn’t he think of anything else than of him?

Elliot nodded and hummed his answers to Jacqueline’s one-sided conversation about the party, his mind already elsewhere, drifting aimlessly from thought to thought about the upcoming night and its many possibilities.

It’ll be all right, he weakly reassured himself. I can fight this. Everything will be all right.

He wasn’t convinced.


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When the final bell rung to end last period, Elliot darted out of his classroom and down the hallway. He felt absurd, pressing his body against walls and lockers, eyeing the hallways suspiciously, as if they hid away what scared him the most, and had eyes with which to watch him flee, like a coward. But it had to be done, he justified.

He squeezed through the suffocating mass of students, and was soon out the front doors and tasting fresh air and freedom. Tossing all caution to the wind, Elliot dashed as quickly as he could to his car. The freedom that he’d just tasted surged through him in bold, powerful waves once the doors of his car were closed and locked. There was no way that anything could go wrong when he was safe and sound in his car.

Elliot mentally congratulated himself. He’d gone through another day without seeing him.

The triumphant feeling dissipated.

Now he just had to get through the party…


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Elliot had barely stepped through Jacqueline’s front door when the intense and unknown aroma of the party hit his senses with full-force. The air was heavy with the strong and unmistakable smell of alcohol, as well as a few other smells he wasn’t sure he recognized. And everywhere he looked, there were masked and costumed people. Vampires, witches, ghouls, super heroes, and some things Elliot didn’t even recognize. But like any party he’d encountered in his adolescent years, it was a cesspool of hormones in dim lights and loud music.

A man that stood near the doorway, dressed up as an extremely bloody version of Dracula and reeking of beer, swung his arm around Elliot’s shoulder and slurred, “Heeeey! What’s up, buddy?”

Elliot scrunched up his face with disgust and ducked out of the man’s sloppy embrace. “Do I even know you?” he snapped. He received no answer, as the man had already stumbled off on some other quest, blending in with the crowd situated a nearby room.

Elliot eyed the slowly growing crowd, searching for any sign of a certain redhead. There was no sign of him. He moved away from the doorway, allowing room for more people to enter.

It had been a while since he’d been to Jacqueline’s house, but he remembered it as if it were tattooed on the back of his eyes. He went down the hallway and turned at a doorway, entering a half-full living room, eyes exploring the vicinity for any more warning signs. Elliot relaxed; the room was secure. If the rest of the night went like this, then he’d have no problem.

A pair of arms grabbed Elliot from behind; an arm pressed underneath his neck and another held him steadfast around the waist. Elliot froze, his breath caught in his throat, too stunned to fight for his freedom.

“Fancy meeting you here, Elly.”

Tension drained out of Elliot’s body, and he was able to breathe again. He snapped his body out of the rough and hostile lock, and glared at his captor. “What’re you doing here?” he hissed.

Maxi yawned with mock-disinterest. “Emotional support, mainly. And the booze. Yourself?” Maxi’s wicked grin widened as Elliot’s glare intensified.

“What do you mean, ‘emotional support’?”

“I think that’s pretty self-explanatory,” Maxi drawled, waving his hand in a careless gesture. He eyed a curvy woman, who was dressed as a seductive devil, as she brushed past them, her hips swinging back and forth in time with her pace. Maxi whistled appreciatively, his eyes following her long after she disappeared from sight. “You know, he’s looking for you right now, as we speak.”

Elliot’s eyes widened. “What?”

“Mmhmm. He was so distressed at lunch today…wouldn’t say a word all lunch period until the very end, when he asked us to help him out tonight. Naturally, I felt inclined to help—anything for a friend.” Maxi began to cackle, the dark skin around his eyes crinkling with malicious delight. “Can’t run forever, Elly.”

With a low growl, Elliot stormed past Maxi, purposely banging his shoulder into Maxi’s as he did so. Fuck! He was looking for him? Coming to the party was a bad idea, after all. Elliot’s blood pumped furiously with panicked adrenaline; he needed to get out.

Elliot barely made it to the front door when he spotted Jacqueline there in front of him, greeting some newcomers. When her eyes rose and met his, Elliot knew that he was royally fucked.

“Elliot! You made it.” Elliot could hear her unrepressed bliss, even through the thundering music and roar of chatter amongst the guests. Had the music gotten even louder? He could already feel his ears ring.

“Y—Yeah. Just got here,” he shouted over the noise. Thank God the earsplitting music covered up his stuttering. He didn’t know how much longer his nerves could take this.

Jacqueline nodded. “Great! Feel any better?”

Elliot stared at her for a moment before he realized that she meant earlier that day. “Oh! Yeah, loads better, thanks.” How he wished that were true.

“Terrific.” Jacqueline greeted some more costumed visitors, then turned back to Elliot and said, “Are you thirsty? There are drinks in the kitchen. Go ahead and help yourself.”

Drinks? Maybe that’d calm his nerves a bit. Elliot thanked Jacqueline and left her to mingle with the rest of the guests. The crowd was thinned out in the hallway, the majority of guests now in the living room, dancing in groups both large and small, or socializing up against the walls and doorways, which was both a good and a bad thing. Less people in the hallway meant easier movement but less to blend in with. He’d have to be quick.

Elliot poked his head in through the kitchen doorway. Still no sign of the freckled boy. Easing up a bit, Elliot opted for one of the brown bottles on the table beside the pink punch bowl. He popped open the cap with a nearby bottle opener and took a long swig of the bitter beverage. He paused after the third guzzle and caught a shock of bold blue hair moving through the crowd. He lowered the bottle and stared at Alison, eyes locked as she stared back. The corner of her mouth twitched into a faint smirk. Her eyes moved so that she was looking behind him, a thin eyebrow arching with interest. Elliot twisted around, his body and mind preparing him for the absolute worst…

…Only to find nothing.

That bitch, Elliot mentally cursed. How dare she trick him like that? He turned back around, ready to give the blue-haired girl a piece of his mind, but she was gone. Elliot stared at where she had stood only seconds ago. His eyes drifted to the door at the other side of the kitchen, which must have served as her escape route. Elliot frowned; he couldn’t shake off the sense of foreboding that he’d gotten ever since he’d walked in through the front door, the feeling that he’d walked into an inescapable trap.

His thoughts were reconfirmed when he re-entered the hallway and his eyes drifted over into the doorway of the living room, now almost completely filled with ghoulishly dressed guests. He spotted Maxi and Alison…and they were both talking to Cameron.

Elliot’s grip on his beer bottle increased, squeezing the cold glass tightly until his fingers ached dully with exhaustion. “Fuck!” He twisted around and spotted a door nearby—a door that he knew led to the basement. Perfect!

He maneuvered past a few people and, grabbing the brass doorknob, yanked the door open. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him with panicked rashness. Hopefully he’d been stealthy enough, and neither of the three had seen him.

Elliot didn’t bother with turning on a light switch. It’d only reveal to anyone who was observant enough that someone was down there, and the last thing he wanted was to be caught. Besides, he could deal with the dark if it meant safety.

When Elliot finally reached the bottom of the stairway, he inhaled a shaky breath, the edge of his adrenaline rush dulling. Elliot backed up until his back met the cold basement wall, and was thankful for something hard and stable to help support him while his mind reeled from the overall situation.

And then he took one look around the oddly neat and organized basement and wondered what the hell he was doing. He was hiding in Jacqueline’s basement. Her basement, for crying out loud! Hiding!

Elliot tilted his head back. He could feel the slight pulse from the music in the very wall itself, even though it was really from one floor above him, and it was strangely harmonized with intoxicating laughter and talking. Elliot drank back the rest of his beer, then sat the empty bottle down on the floor beside him. He crossed his arms and bowed his head, readying himself for a long stay.

…He couldn’t hide in the basement for the whole party, could he?

The door at the top of the stairway cracked open. Light spilled onto the stairs, the darkness jumping back at the intruder. Elliot’s head shot up and he stared wide-eyed at the doorway. I change my mind, he thought desperately. I can hide here. I don’t care. Just leave me in peace! He prayed that the door would be closed and he’d be left alone.

However, the door remained open. A shadow in the shape of a person slid over and overpowered the light on the stairway. “Elliot?” the same voice called again.

Elliot jumped in his own skin. He knew that voice. A recollection of a particular evening from a week ago at a certain movie theatre whispered its dark secrets in Elliot’s head, making his mind spin. He pressed back against the basement wall as best he could, as if he tried hard enough, he could somehow just fuse with it and remain hidden. The music above raged on, but the figure at the doorway remained silent. A foot stepped onto the stairs, the wood creaking under its weight. Elliot eyed the dark room of the basement, cursing himself for choosing a basement to hide. He’d seen enough horror movies to know that a basement was one of the worst places to hide from anything. The worst! Elliot mentally chastised himself. He might as well have hid in a damn closet!

Another footstep on the stairs, followed by another, and another, the stairs whining under the weight of each step, like some otherworldly warning to Elliot that his time was running out.

“Elliot? Are you down there?”

There was a soft click of a light switch, and a single light bulb in the middle of the ceiling flickered, eventually lighting up a little bit of the room with weak light. But however dim it was, it was enough to shoo away the thick and pooling shadows into various corners and crevices of the room. Elliot held his breath and tried to keep as quiet as humanly possible as Cameron descended down the stairs.

Cameron finally appeared at the end of the stairs, a little hunched over and dressed in a pair of navy blue jeans and a black KISS band shirt. His curious eyes wandered all over the stuffy and cold room, then paused, his gaze falling onto Elliot’s, where it stayed.

Elliot’s insides trembled, but not from the brisk basement air. He couldn’t breathe. He pried his eyes away from Cameron. From across the room he heard Cameron heave a sigh of relief.

“Elliot…are you hiding?”

Elliot swallowed, unable to speak, unable to trust his voice.

A heavy silence followed Cameron’s words. Elliot could feel the others eyes studying him, and he squirmed under the unwavering attention. His hands grabbed at the cloth of his dark blue hoody, pulling at it for some sort of stress relief. He heard Cameron’s footsteps draw closer. His mouth went dry.

“Hey, you’re not all dressed up,” Cameron chuckled awkwardly, but Elliot noticed out of the corner of his eye that he wasn’t dressed up, either. No more so than usual, anyway. He peeked at Cameron, quickly taking in the others appearance before heat rushed to his cheeks. Cameron was even closer now. In the dim light, Elliot could make out the many millions of tiny freckles scattered all across his cheeks, his nose, even along the backs of his arms and hands. Elliot looked away again. He could remember the cool breeze of that evening not too long ago…almost as cool as the basement itself. The memory brought forth other recollections and feelings Elliot wished he could just crumble up and throw away, but instead they turned up the heat in his body by a few notches. Elliot eyed the open door at the top of the stairway, his only means of escape.

“So, how’ve you been?” Cameron said, and he groaned at the awkwardness of his own words, his hand already reaching behind him and rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean, what’s up?” The words were out of place and they were only both too aware of it. Cameron exhaled heavily, shifting his weight from one foot to another with nervous energy. “Um, if you don’t mind me asking, why are you down here? Are…Are you really hiding from me?”

Elliot’s body was already moving away from the basement wall. He didn’t care if Cameron was in the way. He needed out. “I have to—”

“No, wait!” Cameron’s hand shot out, and even through the fabric of his hoody, Elliot could feel Cameron’s natural warmth. “Please, just…give me a second.”

“For what?” Elliot demanded, panicking. “So you can be all…weird again?”

Cameron visibly flinched at the piercing words. His hand around Elliot’s wrist loosened and fell back to his side. “No…”

Elliot could feel himself shaking, terrified, and it only served to sharpen his already hostile tone. “Then what?”

“I just…I just want to talk. Sort things out, you know?” Cameron’s smile was weak as he shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t want things to be like this.”

Elliot backed away from Cameron, and after a moments thought, resumed his position against the basement wall. He didn’t know why he stayed, why he didn’t just leave Cameron standing there. Maybe it was the guilt that squeezed his heart, or maybe it was the way the other boy sounded so defeated, yet so hopeful…

Whatever it was, Elliot stood there with his arms crossed, attempting to stay as calm as possible. “You have one minute,” he said. At that, Cameron’s face lit up instantaneously. Elliot cleared his throat, thankful that the light was weak enough to hide any reddening of his cheeks.

“Okay. About a few nights ago, I’m sorry I freaked you out, I really am. But, I couldn’t help myself. You got all flustered, and I was nervous, and I thought that maybe you returned my feelings…wait!” Cameron shook his head and groaned. “Let me start over again. I…I think I might…like you?” he finished with a nervous grin, eyes hiding behind long strands of rusty orange hair.

There was a pregnant pause. Elliot stared at Cameron, torn between disbelief and sheer awe at the sudden confession. The humming of the furnace in the background seemed too loud, and the living pulse of music above them too intrusive and obnoxious for such a fragile moment, the pandemonium of it all imitating the racket that was going on in Elliot’s head as he searched for answers that he could accept with ease.

The longer the silence stretched out, the more nervous Cameron seemed to become. His hands flexed with uncontrolled energy, pulling and playing around with a chain that hung at his side, and his nervousness only made Elliot all the more restless. Was Cameron expecting an answer right that minute?

Elliot opened his mouth to speak, hoping that by magic the right answer would just jump out and everything would be fine again, but nothing came.

He didn’t have an answer.

Elliot could scarcely recall all of the times girls had approached him, stuttering out the very same words, as if they were sacred. He’d be a little flattered, but each and every time he’d reject them, thinking that they were just silly girls with silly crushes, and he didn’t have time for inefficient silliness. Crushes were momentary things, whimsical, something that’d flutter away on something as easy and common as a breath of wind.

But…when those words slipped from out between Cameron’s lips, they didn’t sound whimsical. They didn’t sound like they held empty desires. They didn’t sound like some form of pleading for acceptance and love. No, they’d sounded honest, as if Cameron had just stated an unchangeable fact. Except Elliot had heard the vulnerability in the other's voice, as well as the boldness. Cameron had just opened the lock to the treasure chest that protected his heart and revealed it to him in complete trust.

Elliot didn’t know what to say. His mind was blank, but his body was already answering for him with the erratic beating of his heart, and the heat that collected along his cheeks, nose, and the back of his neck.

“It’s okay if you don’t like me back,” Cameron murmured, his voice low but clear. “I just needed to say it, so that you’d know. I don’t think I would’ve been able to keep it to myself, anyway.” Cameron peeked at him through his hair. Elliot caught a flash of something within the other’s shining blue-green eyes, but those eyes disappeared behind the rusty-orange curtain of hair, eyelids lowered and eyelashes cast over his cheeks. “I understand if you never want to talk to me again, or even see me. I’ve probably really freaked you out. And, about the kiss…I’m sorry for forcing that on you, and for the misunderstanding. I thought you liked me back, but…I guess I was wrong.”

Elliot dropped his eyes to the floor, suddenly feeling heavy with immense shame. Here Cameron was, baring his heart and soul to him, thinking that he was wrong, when in all actuality, he was mistaken about being mistaken. Cameron was brave enough to tell him all of this in person, even after he’d run out on Cameron after he’d kissed him and avoided him all week. All that, and Cameron was still there.

And to think that just moments ago he wanted to hide…

Cameron looked up, and although he still looked vulnerable, he also looked a little relieved. “Thanks for listening, and for not punching me just now for all of this…Hey, are you okay?”

“No.” Elliot glared at the floor. But he wasn’t angry with Cameron. He was only angry with himself.

“…I didn’t disgust you, did I?”

“No!” Elliot answered much too quickly. He took a deep breath and wished that the pounding music would stop for just one second and grant his mind a moment to think without aggravating background interference. “I mean…No, you didn’t—don’t—disgust me.”

“Then what?”

Elliot flexed his fingers and crossed his arms even tighter across his chest. “I don’t know, that’s what.” He could feel his lungs fill and contract with each forced breath. He’d never felt more terrified. “Look, all I know is that you don’t disgust me, and thinking about this is going to give me a killer headache. I don’t get any of this.”

Cameron eyes gleamed with honest astonishment, but there was a gleam of hope there that Elliot recognized only too well. “What’s to get?”

Elliot groaned. “I don’t know. You.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you.”

“What about me?”

Elliot groaned again and slapped a hand onto his forehead. How could he explain it to Cameron when he himself didn’t understand any of it? Especially when Cameron waited not even a foot away with curiosity gleaming dangerously in his eyes, and his mouth pulled in a determined line.

Before Elliot could say anything, Cameron asked, “Are you sure that I don’t bother you? Or is there something you’re not telling me?”

Elliot said nothing, at a loss for words.

The gleam of hope from before grew brighter in Cameron’s eyes. Before another silence could dominate them both, Cameron had already rushed forward, hands gripping Elliot roughly by the biceps.  As if the timer were running out of seconds, Cameron rushed out, “So there is something you’re not telling me! What is it? Do you like me after all?”

Elliot’s mouth fell open. The hands gripping his arms were vice-like, containing and trapping him. He became acutely aware of the other boy and his presence. He found himself struggling, not physically, but mentally as a sense of déjà vu overwhelmed him.

“I…I—”

Cameron’s eyebrows furrowed. “Do you?” He was suddenly too close, and Elliot felt trapped. He leaned back as far as he could until he was completely flat against the wall, but there was still far too little space between them. He could almost feel the desperation swirling in Cameron’s sea-green eyes. “So?” The freckled boy pressed further for an answer.

“I said that’s what I don’t know!” Elliot snapped, and he immediately felt guilty for doing so, but he couldn’t take this anymore! The confusion and the doubts, the way he head spun when he tried to reason out just what exactly was going on. And that damned way Cameron looked at him, like he was asking for permission for something, but for what? For what?

Cameron paused, and for a single moment there was only the pounding beat of music above them, thumping and pulsing with life, a reminder that the world still spun, even when the moment between the two of them seemed lost in time. One of the hands on Elliot’s arm detached itself and rose to cup the side of Elliot’s face. Elliot tensed at the warm and sweaty hand, the pumping of blood roaring in his ears as his blush burned underneath his skin. He knew what was coming next, but he didn’t know whether he wanted to run away or not.

Did he even want to, anymore?

Cameron began to tilt his head as he leaned in. Elliot bit his lower lip, frowning. “Wait…” his murmur was barely above a whisper. Cameron was close enough that Elliot could practically feel his tiny smile now.

“You can punch me afterwards,” Cameron whispered back, eyes closing. “But, if there’s a chance, then I need to know.”

And then his lips were upon Elliot’s, pressing with gentle commanding. Elliot froze at the touch, debating on whether he should respond or not, but still unsure. Still unsure.

Cameron’s lips left his, ending the chaste kiss. His eyes opened, gazing into Elliot’s with transparent curiosity. Elliot gazed back, and within seconds, he began to gradually relax within Cameron’s grip, unable to look away from the freckled boy. He could see the need in Cameron’s soulful eyes; feel the trembling of his sweating hand against his cheek. He realized that his earlier perception was mistaken. He was confined, but not trapped. Cameron wouldn’t hold him against his will. He could shove him away and leave, like last time.

But…Elliot didn’t want to leave.

Taking Elliot’s silence as a positive sign, Cameron leaned in again, and this time Elliot didn’t freeze against the tender touch of Cameron’s lips. He closed his eyes the moment he felt the others lips press against his. He didn’t respond, but didn’t withdraw. He simply allowed the kiss to just be.

It was longer this time, a little less awkward, and somehow sweeter. Elliot’s lips were tingling, and he still held his breath, butterflies dancing in a flurry inside his chest. Elliot couldn’t help but think, but this is a guy, this is a guy, this is a guy!

But did kisses from other guys always taste and feel this good?

When Cameron pulled back, Elliot made a small noise of protest at the back of his throat, and at that tiny sound, Cameron was seized Elliot’s lips again in a harder kiss, his body moving forward, pressing against him.

After a second to regain his breath, Cameron kissed him again, then again, each time longer and harder, each kiss becoming bolder. To Elliot’s surprise, he could feel himself reacting and responding, and he liked it. His heart was banging against his chest, seeking freedom from his confining ribs. The blood that didn’t occupy his blushing cheeks rushed south, making his pants considerably uncomfortable and tight. He couldn’t even hear the music anymore. All that seemed to exist was Cameron. Pressed against him, warm, moving, alive.

It felt good. Cameron felt good.

Elliot’s body was reduced to a mass of shivering desire. Cameron, Cameron, Cameron. His arms uncrossed themselves and slowly began to snake around Cameron’s waist...

“Who’s down there?”

Elliot’s arms froze and their kiss ceased. The low and drunken voice at the top of the stairs shattered the surrealism they had built up around themselves. They pulled away from each other. Elliot could hear the music again, wild and chaotic, much like his mind as it was sent into a spiral, making up for those few heavenly moments when the rest of the world had ceased to be. Elliot could hear Cameron panting softly against his ear while they stayed as still and quiet as they could.

“Elliot,” Cameron whispered after a few minutes. “I think they’re gone.”

“…G-Get away,” Elliot forced out, his voice weak. The music was louder now, the chaos conquering. He felt Cameron’s warm hands coil around him, pulling him into a protective embrace, but they were burning, and Elliot swore that they’d leave marks. He could faintly hear Cameron’s voice through a haze, trying to reason with him, but the situation replayed itself over and over in his head, and the voice of the freckled boy only sharpened the pain and confusion of the entire situation. The arms that surrounded him were suffocating. Elliot twisted violently out of Cameron’s grasp and stumbled towards the stairs. There was that desperate voice again, calling and pleading for him, this time piercing through the fog like an arrow, straight through to him.

“Stop running away from me!”

But Elliot was already at the top of the stairs, immersing himself into an even thicker atmosphere of drunken voices and pounding music. Elliot clapped a hand over his mouth. He could still feel the pressure there, as if Cameron were still kissing him sweetly. He stumbled through packs of people cluttering the hallway, fighting against solid bodies that refused to move, all the while wishing that he could forget that loving touch, that feel that was solely Cameron, and its effect on him.

What do I do? Elliot thought desperately. What do I do?

All thought left him when he stumbled into a hallway the furthest away from the noise, and into familiar body. Out of desperation, he clung to the person with a fierce grip, refusing to let go. He needed help; he needed somebody.

“Elliot?” A familiar, comforting voice asked. “You’re shaking—what’s wrong? What happened?”

He looked up and into Jacqueline’s eyes—her safe, familiar, gray-blue eyes. His grip around her tightened, and in a frantic rush, he said, “You have to help me. Something’s wrong—horribly, horribly wrong. I can’t…I…”

Jacqueline’s eyebrows turned upwards, worry dominating her expression as she answered, “Yes, of course, whatever you need. You know I’m here to help—what’s wrong? Why are you shaking so badly?”

Elliot shook his head, the dreadful answer stifled within his throat as he buried his face into her shoulder, his body still quaking with fearful tremors. The scene wouldn’t stop replaying over and over in his head—and each time it did, the more overwhelming the feelings became. "Please..."

He willed the world away, except for the warm body in his arms, and the soothing voice in his ear that repeated to him lovingly, “It’s okay, Elliot, it’s okay. I’m here—whatever you need. I’m here to help. Everything will be all right.”

How he yearned those words to be true.


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The first thing Elliot did when he got home the next morning was take a shower. A long, scalding shower. He stood under the scorching shower till his skin became red and irritated, and the water turned ice cold, so that it felt like he was standing under a rain shower of icicles.

But he deserved it.

He still felt dirty.

Afterwards, he got dressed in a simple and casual pair of jeans and a grey t-shirt. His footsteps were heavy with guilt and shame as he descended down the stairway. Muffin meowed at the bottom, staring up at him with royal and expecting eyes.

“Idiots forget to feed you again?” Elliot mumbled more to himself than to anyone else, head still down and shoulders slumped dejectedly. He trudged towards the kitchen with Muffin following right behind. The weight of the world was burdening his shoulders and seeming only to gain more weight as each second crawled by.

Muffin slipped in between Elliot’s legs while he prepared her food, leaving behind tiny bits of fur. Oddly enough, she seemed much more focused on making physical contact than on keeping his attention on her and her need for food that morning.

Once Muffin was happily left to eat her meal, Elliot retrieved a clean glass and poured himself some milk. He went to chug back the beverage when his eye caught sight of the phone hanging on the wall across from him. He paused and frowned at the phone. He’d considered the thought all morning, from as early as when the first early morning bird sang, but…should he?

With a heavy sigh, Elliot chugged back his drink and dropped the empty glass into the sink. Without so much as thinking, his hand opened a drawer by his waist and pulled out a slip of paper, the very same paper that carried with it Cameron’s phone number. He’d hid the paper in the drawer the same night Cameron had first kissed him, too ashamed and frustrated to even look upon the oddly legible writing…but now he held it between his fingers.

He eyed the phone once more; he had to do this. For his piece of mind. For things to be all right again.

His hand was already too warm when it gripped the cool plastic of the black phone in his palm. He breathed carefully, each intake carefully controlled. “I can do this,” he mouthed to himself, fingers pushing the appropriate buttons. His stomach leapt into his chest when the first ring hummed on the other end, sending a shiver racing up and down his spine. Then there came the second ring, the third, the fourth…

Elliot frowned, discouragement mingling with his thoughts. What was he thinking? Cameron wouldn’t answer the phone. Not after last night. Not after he’d bolted on him for the second time.

After the sixth ring, Elliot went to hang up the phone when there was a faint click, followed by a low and steady voice. “Hello?”

Elliot fumbled with the phone, almost dropping it. “Yes! Is Cameron there?”

“Hold on.” There were some voices in the background, one female and the other the one that’d answered the phone, both of which Elliot didn’t recognize. Cameron’s family? Someone shouted for Cameron, and Elliot held his breath. Would he answer?

After some more muffled voices and static, a familiar but groggy voice answered. “Hello?”

“Cameron?” Elliot hoped he didn’t sound too hopeful or too nervous. It was bad enough that the phone was now warm and slimy in his hand from sweat against plastic. The last thing he needed was for the conversation to become uncomfortable, too.

“Elliot?” Blunt, but bewildered. “You called?” Cameron sounded skeptical, his tone now heavily guarded.

“Yeah, I did.”

“…Are you sure you didn’t dial a wrong number or something?”

Elliot’s lips pursed together for a brief moment before he answered with, “No.”

“Oh.” There was some more static in the quiet background. “Wow…uh, what for?”

Elliot swallowed; his mind had gone completely blank. He’d rehearsed a whole bunch of things to say all morning when he’d thought about calling, but no starter line seemed to want to step up. Of course he knew why he called, but a sense of dread held him back, and he didn’t even know where to begin. It's okay, I can do this. He’d called for a reason, and he was damned if he was going to turn away and run again.

“I called about last night…” The words came out slow and deliberate with careful enunciation. He wanted to be crystal clear; he couldn’t screw this up. “I’m…about last night…” Elliot noted dreadfully that the other end of the phone was unusually quiet.  “Cameron, you still there?”

“…Yeah, I’m here.”

Elliot frowned at the tiled floor of the kitchen. Cameron’s voice was uninterruptible over the phone, and the grogginess didn’t help any. Muffin, finished with her meal, brushed up against Elliot’s leg and meowed with gallant reassurance. He looked down at her and briefly smiled. It was nice to know that he had some support, even if it came in the guise of a lazy, spoiled cat. Elliot took another deep breath. “As I was saying,” he continued, “I…I think we need to talk.”

“Talk?” Cameron’s tired voice sounded much more awake now.

“Yeah. I shouldn’t have run out on you last night, or the time before. And…I just think we need to talk. You were right—we need to sort some things out.”

“Really?” Again with the hopeful, but undoubtedly skeptical, tone.

Elliot paused, then, “Yeah. Really.”

“Oh…wow.” Cameron sounded awed, and then he abruptly laughed on the other end. “Oh God, I’m so relieved! For a minute there, I thought you called to threaten me. I seriously thought you were going to take me up on that offer to punch me. Like a call from death or something. Holy shit! You scared me there for a second.”

A small smile crossed Elliot’s lips. He could feel himself easing into the conversation more. “No. Anyway, are you free today? I don’t think this is really one of those things we should talk about over the phone.”

“Yeah, I’m free. Where do you want to meet?”

“In the mood for coffee? Starbucks at the mall, in an hour?”

“Sure. I’ll be there,” Cameron replied lightheartedly, which helped Elliot feel even more at ease with himself, even as his stomach bounced all over the place. “See you there?”

“Yeah. See you there.” The other end hung up, leaving a long beep until Elliot slowly hung up his phone, too. He was shaking again, excited enough to vomit. But this is good, he reasoned. Thankfully it was Saturday, so there was really no rush. There would be lots of time—or so he hoped.

At Elliot’s feet, Muffin purred and rubbed her head against his calf. Elliot bent down and ran his fingers over her soft and furry back, and despite the restless, guilty, and impatient feelings bubbling inside him, he felt good about this. He felt ready.


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To Be Continued