Bottoms in Skirts

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Mateo asks me his question before pulling away. He leaves me slumped against the wall of my tiny kitchen as he slithers back to the fridge. Mateo pulls out my frosting tub. It's vanilla with sprinkles. He starts opening drawers in search of a spoon. Mateo finds one and begins shoveling sugar into his stupid mouth.

"You can't just! Ugh!" My aggravation is evident as I tangle my hands in my hair.

Mateo licks the frosting off his spoon before pointing it in my direction. "I can't just what Finn?" Mateo quirks an eyebrow up at me as he repeats my words.

"You can't just be all hot and get me all horny and then eat my frosting!" I'm borderline yelling, and my cheeks are flushed red.

"Oh? I didn't realize you found me hot. Nor did I think you were horny." He continues to eat the frosting that doesn't belong to him.

"Fuck off! You knew very well what you were doing with that dumbass smirk and your kisses!" I jab my index finger out at him.

"I could stop if you'd like," Mateo tells me, his smirk growing as he continues to eat my frosting.

"Wait, uh, n-no. That's, that's not what I meant," I stutter out.

"In other words, you enjoy me being hot and making you horny?" He asks, scraping the sides of the container.

"Whatever."

"So what I'm hearing is," He pauses for a moment sucking the frosting off the spoon."'Mateo, I would love it if you pinned me against this wall and fucked me until my legs were jelly.' Sound about right?" Mateo asks.

"N-no. That's, that's not what I'm saying," I answer, my face flushing red.

"So you don't want me to make your legs jelly? Because no part of you could top me," Mateo says this while setting down the container of frosting, which I now presume is empty. There goes dinner. In retrospect, I should probably not make plans to have frosting as a meal.

"You don't know that," I grumbled, crossing my arms across my chest.

"Okay, tell me what sounds more appealing. My hand wrapped around your throat as I destroy your insides. Or does it sound better for you to be pinning me against a wall with your petite frame?"

"Fuck you." My face is red because we both know I'd prefer the first option.

"No, I thought I just made it clear I would be the one fucking you, darling," Mateo once again calls me a bottom, only this time he's pointing his finger at me. While I hate to admit it, even if it's not out loud, I love the way darling sounds coming from him. "Now that we've had breakfast," Mateo says, clapping his hands together. "I would love to see you in that skirt."

"Mateo, I don't own a skirt," I tell him, running a hand through my hair in frustration. I can't believe how easily Mateo can just switch topics. It's almost as if he wasn't just talking about rearranging my insides.

"Really? I definitely had you pegged as the kind of gay guy who owns a skirt." Mateo hops up on my counter. He sits there with his foot propped up on his ankle.

"Are you the kind of gay guy that owns a skirt?" I ask, playing with the hem of my shirt. I'm not sure if asking him this question is making me nervous or if it's the fact that he's sitting so comfortably on my counter.

"I'm not gay," Mateo deadpans.

You're kidding. Is this the same guy that just minutes ago was sucking on my neck and talking about railing me against the wall? "Excuse me?" My eyes are wide with disbelief.

"I'm not gay. I'm bi," Mateo corrects me.

"Oh," I say.

"Should I do more finger guns? Or maybe you want me to cuff my sweatpants?" Mateo asks, chuckling softly.

"When you said you weren't gay, I was assuming you were gonna play the I'm straight and was just messing with you, card." I grab my shoulder and squeeze softly. It's something I do when I feel nervous.

"Why? Do guys do that to you?" Mateo asks as if he can't believe that happens.

"Well, you wouldn't be the first or the second," I mumble.

"Damn, I'm sorry," Mateo says, looking down. As if he feels as though it's necessary to rock the boat, he says, "How do your parents feel about guys fucking you over?"

"I doubt they think much about me anymore." I'm avoiding letting my eyes meet his.

"Why?" I can feel his eyes on me.

"Most of the time when you disown your kid, you don't really care who's fucking them up. Especially when they're the ones who fucked you up the most." My voice is a whisper, and tears are pooling in my eyes. I don't like talking about them. I don't like giving them the power to make me cry. And I most certainly don't enjoy reliving what they put me through.

"When did they disown you?" Mateo's voice is soft. I don't know why he's asking these questions. He knows the answers are just as much a shit show as I am. I can't tell if he's curious or if this is just a sick game he's playing with me. I know it's unfair to assume that, but that's just where my brain goes when anyone begins to show even the slightest bit of interest in my life.

"When I was 12." My voice is still a whisper.

"Is that when you came out?" I'm still not looking at Mateo, but I know he's looking at me. I honestly can't believe he's still here. If I was him, I would have bolted as soon as feelings were brought up. It's a miracle I'm still having this conversation with him.

"No, actually." I give out a dark chuckle. "They found gay porn on my computer. I just wanted to jack off, you know, and straight porn wasn't doing it for me. So I got curious, and that's when my mother came in. Rather than just being a normal mom and shutting the door in fear and embarrassment. She barged over to me and snatched my computer. When she saw what was on it, I thought she was going to faint." I pause, needing a minute to continue.

"My parents were super religious. So when my dad came home from work that day, they sat me down and gave me two options. I could go to a conversion camp, or I could get out. They were asking me to renounce my sexuality and beg for forgiveness. My father told me that no matter that homosexuality was a disease that needed to be cured. I was so confused. I didn't understand why it was such a big deal that I didn't like girls the way I liked guys. I never did. Whenever I saw a couple, my focus was never on the attractiveness of the girl. It was always on how hot the guy was. In fact, I'd never really thought about girls that way."

"Finn, I'm so sorry." Mateo apologized. I didn't even realize he had walked over to me until he put a hand on my shoulder. 

 

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