In the Closet (boy x boy)

12. Ten Minutes in Heaven [M]

Friday, March 17th

I'm locked into a bathroom stall, sat on the toilet with my knees raised protectively. My cheeks are drenched, my lips taste salty. I want to disappear, melt into either the wall or the floor. Tavish bangs at the door again, calls my name and I don't know how many times it's been anymore. How many times I pleaded for him to leave me alone.

"You realize I will just climb over the door, right?" he says and I fully believe him, there's no true need for convincing.

"I don't want you to, though," I mumble into my knees. I don't bother wiping my tears. They won't stop until he's gone and I get to collect my scattered emotions.

"I know that. I saw it in your eyes."

"I saw in your eyes that you were an asshole the first time around and I didn't make a scene about it," I retort with a sniff.

He barks out a genuine laugh.

"I know you think that." I catch glimpses of him through the ridiculously wide cracks around the door. Then I decide I'd be better off staring at the green walls of the cramped stall.

"Spare me that part."

He stops pacing for a few beats. "What part?"

I throw my head against the wall, mind churning with answers and questions and longing and hatred.

"The one you pretend you never did me any wrong," I answer.

Tavish soundly sighs. "I'm aware of what I did." I consider there might be hope there. "It was just fun, Billy." And I realize he won't change, he's helplessly him. It's not a good thing.

I give my lower lip a tough chew and I taste the bit of blood it draws.

"Fun for you, far from fun for me. Doesn't sound like you were trying to bond with me."

By now, Tavish fully rests against the door. "My intention was never to hurt you," he confesses as if I could believe him. The tears cease for a second because it infuriates me, as so many things do. It infuriates me but it's more than that. It's sharp anger mingling with clingy despair. It's the perfect components to make the ticking bomb that form my feelings burst like those firecrackers. I unlock the door and erupt from the stall.

Anger fuels me. Tavish stares in surprise. "Then what!" I yell. "What do you want from me?"

I feel my ardors plummet. The bite in me has been consumed. I'm left limp, boneless and racked with anguish. I'm left all tears and trembling voice and fleeting gaze. I'm left nothing, the nothing Tavish managed to trample on so easily. I want to leave, I head for the door but Tavish blocks me. He pins me to the wall. I struggle for half a second and realize it's hopeless. He has me all, I can't fight him. I refuse him the only thing I can, squeezing my sore eyes shut as tears pour and pour.

Unlike what I would have expected, Tavish doesn't blow up with fury or hurt me. He slides warm, calloused fingers against my chin and traces my jaw gently. I shiver at the delicate touch of his hand. It's nicer than ever, his hand.

"Look at me," he demands like I have a choice. I obey. His eyes are the bluest and they're just for me to see, contemplate. "There you are, that's all." I frown. He brushes his thumb under my eyes and smears my tears.

"What?" I ask.

My nose saturates with him and his cologne. "I wanted you to look at me, Billy. To pay attention to me." My brain whirs and I don't understand him.

I snort, trying to pretend there's any vigour left in me. "Congratulations on being an attention seeker. Keep me out of it."

He shakes his head. His dark hair flows with the movement, the loose curls bouncing.