Finding Mr. Perfect's Flaws (boyxboy) *Completed*

Finding Mr. Perfect's Flaws [Eighteen]

Finding Mr. Perfect's Flaws

[Eighteen]

Faking Innocence

When I got home, I didn't know what to do. I stayed in the doorway for a while, debating on possibilities. I wanted to think about Collin - I did. But I also didn't want to. "It was a mistake," he had whispered, glancing over at me. I had known exactly what he was referring to. "I was caught up in the moment."

And we had been. It was stupid to kiss him. But he was leading me on. Any little push in one direction, and I went running. I was blinded with stupidity and lust. I had nodded, unable to speak. Then I had left the car in a daze.

Now I was still standing in the doorway, unable to come up with a solution. Did I want to cry or smile? Did I want to forget or remember? I lightly reached into my wet jeans pocket, angrily digging for the stone. When I finally took it out, I stared at it. I remembered his look - the one he was giving me right before we had kissed. He wasn't caught up in the moment. Maybe it was a special moment, but our kiss was no mistake. I knew that much.

"Zachary?" a voice called, forcing me back from my thoughts. I looked to see my dad standing there. He looked lost, his eyes glassed over and his fingers un-clenching then clenching again. I bet I looked even worse. I stared at him, and he stared at me. He was clutching something that looked like a paper in his hand. It was slightly crumpled already.

"Dad, what..." I trailed off, stopping at his continuing gaze. He then turned, and stumbled back into the kitchen. I ran after him, Collin forgotten. When my ratty sneakers finally squeaked into the messy kitchen, the smell of something burning reached my nose. My small nose wrinkled, my gaze trying to find the source of the smell. Had he set the house on fire? I wouldn’t be surprised, he has done things that drastic before…That's when I got sight of my dad.

He was standing in front of the sink, clutching the little paper I had seen earlier in one hand and in another, a cigarette lighter. The photo was curling and burning under the licking flames.  I took a closer look at the paper. My dad was staring at it like it was a demon. I gasped when I realized what it was.

It was a Christmas card.


I stared up at the ceiling - thinking about when my father had really lost it. Something was really wrong with him. It wasn't just the usual teenage 'There's something wrong with you!'. There was really something wrong with him. I had a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. The sky outside eventually turned darker and darker. I was still lying on my bed, looking at my fan. Should I be crying or smiling? Should I go and check on my father? Everything was so confusing right now.

Once I had seen the card, I ran back upstairs. My heart had been pounding about a thousand beats a second. Only one person sent a Christmas card a month and a half before the holiday. My mother.

I didn't want to see her and her new, improved perfect family. I hated to admit it, but I was jealous. I was so relieved that my dad had burned the damn thing. I never wanted to see that woman again - let alone her replacements. I could picture the new boy she probably had. A new, bouncing baby boy. Maybe big blue eyes? A baby that every mom would be jealous of, obviously.

I was a baby that no mother had wanted. Crying constantly, unable to calm down. Eyes that were impossible to tell the real color of - the ones that turned green as I cried. No one wanted that snot covered baby. That's why my mom took a "break" from me; for about a year when I was two and another permanent one when I was 13. I haven't seen her since. 

I looked over at the clock. It read 12 AM. I groaned, turning onto my stomach. I tried to scream into my pillow, like all those teenage girls in the movies, but it didn't work out very well. I ended up spitting all over the place, and that ended up with me on the verge of tears. I always got frustrated when I did something wrong. I threw my spitty pillow across the room.

When I had sat up, I caught sight of the stone on the bedside table. The memory of his lips felt fresh and new on mine. His warmness seemed to fill me with happiness. I could picture his eyes perfectly, staring at me like he really cared about me. My stomach seemed to go hollow, then. Missing someone was painful.

I suddenly heard my father's footsteps on the stairs. I quickly flung myself off of the bed and practically collided with the door. I stopped myself at the last second though, making sure I didn't make a sound. I pressed my forehead against the door.

"I'm sorry. But I'm gay and I don't want to live like this anymore," I whispered, soft enough for even me to strain to hear. There was no way he could hear me. I didn’t know why I was telling the door these things. I just felt like it was my job to. "I'm sorry mom left, it was my fault. I-I love you."

Then I sprang back onto my bed. I reached up and shut off the light. I then continued what I had been doing before. I stared at my fan, singing softly to myself. My mom used to do that - sing to me before bed. That's before she really hated me.

My cell phone started to buzz on my bedside table. I slowly extended my hand, and picked up the vibrating device. My throat clenched at the screen name. Collin. Should I pick it up? Should I ignore it? My hand flipped open the screen before I could second guess my actions.

"Hello?"

We both stayed quiet after that one word. I could hear his breathing on the other end, uneven and sad. It took a few minutes for him to say something.

"Zachary, I lied. It-it wasn't a mistake," he whispered, his voice sounding like he had been crying. My breath caught. I was too surprised to speak. He was apologizing for saying what he did? He was quiet as well.

"I can't lose you," He whispered. I could imagine the tears running down his cheeks, closing his eyes and clutching the phone like a life saver. "If I let you, you'll leave me. And I don't want you to leave."

I clutched my hand against my face. I pulled my legs against my chest, and curled into the smallest ball I could. I gripped the phone like I imagined he was doing. I thought of my mom as he said that. I had let her go. It was my fault. She hated me.

"You won't," I whispered. I heard a strangled sob.

"You don't understand, Zachary. Being with me - being my friend or whatever we have will always have those terrible moments. You will end up hating me."

"That can't happen, Collin. It won't," I whispered. I never thought that I'd ever be having a conversation like this with him. His sorrow could be felt and heard through the phone. His perfect life was crumbling down.

"I swear it will. I swear on my life. Every time I say the words: 'I love you' to anyone, it always comes out a lie. I can't love anymore, Zachary. And the same goes for me. No one will love me - no one will ever need me. My mom couldn't stand me." Her voice cracked, and he went silent. I closed my eyes.

"My mom replaced me. Both of ours left, but mine replaced me," I whispered. That made him go quiet. I could hear his breathing still - a constant uneven sound.

"Can I come over?" he whispered.

"Yes," I whispered back. He clicked off the phone. I jumped up and slid off my jeans. It was getting colder and colder, Christmas right around the corner. I slipped on some cute sweats and my sneakers back on. I made sure to slide on long socks, hidden under the long, soft pant legs. Then I slipped on a big hoodie.

I walked to my bedroom and took my time with brushing my teeth. By the time I got outside, he was sitting in his car, waiting for me. I walked across my lawn, the dewy grass soaking my sneakers. I walked up to the curb, clutching the door window, and went on my tip toes to kiss his tear stained cheek. I then pulled back and walked around the car. My shoes made sucking sounds as they made their way across the cement as I stepped off the curb to his passenger door. As I opened the cold door handle, I was greeted with the familiar cologne.

He gave me a sheepish smile as I sat down. When I reached out to shut the cold door closed, I felt a hand on my arm. When I turned, our faces were an inch away. He started to lean forward. I smiled, leaning forward as well. My smile was hiding my triumphant screams inside, and my butterfly's flying from my stomach and out of my throat.

Thinking about it, kissing is such a weird thing. Everyone kisses differently, so there is a good chance they will think you’re bad at it. But what is more awkward that to smash your lips to another person, tasting their spit? What is weirder than feeling their lips? But nothing was weird or awkward about kissing Collin.

As soon as our lips touched, something to my left caught my eye. I pulled away, our lips making a satisfied sound. He tried to distract me, throwing his hands up and trying to move my gaze, but I finally managed to look over. The back seats were down, two pillows at the back. Blankets and warm sheets were acting like a bed. It looked like one, too. I looked up at him, speechless. I don't know why, but I found it amazingly romantic.

He laughed uneasily, a hand coming up to run through his hair. It stood up on the top of his head, looking as adorable as usual.

"We don't have to-"

"No. God no, I love it," I whispered. I crawled in back, lying down on the blankets. I was right. They were warm. I knew he wasn't asking for sex. He didn't give off that vibe that I always got from Johnny whenever we were alone. Collin sighed in relief. He slowly turned the key in his engine, starting the car back up again. He rolled the windows down a tiny crack, just to let air in. Then he turned the car off, and turned to look at me.

My sneakers were located next to the back of his chair. I was looking down my body, right at him. I smiled, showing my teeth. He smiled back then, finally breaking the sadness. I tapped my sneaker against his chair and crossed my arms behind my head. I pretended to be lounging, waiting patiently for him. But realistically, I wanted him so bad every inch of my body was tingling.

He crawled into the back as well. I watched him getting closer, slinking towards me on his hands and knees. When he reached me, still on his hands and knees, he leaned down and kissed my mouth. His mouth was warm and soft, and I wanted to keep him here forever. My body heated up as my hand went up and grabbed his arm. For the first time, his tongue lightly traced my bottom lip. I shivered in pleasure. My tongue met his but he quickly pulled his tongue away, making a face of amused disgust. I giggled and rose to a sitting position. Since he had been hovering over me, he had to do the same thing.

Now we were both sitting there, faces close together. I put my left arm on his right; and leaned forward again. It was the first time I had kissed him, and it made me feel amazing. My tongue traced his bottom lip and he hesitantly touched his tongue to mine. He obviously wasn't educated in the French kiss, but I was a pretty good teacher.

After a few moments, he pulled away. He was shivering. His brilliant blue eyes met mine.

"Maybe we should go to sleep," he whispered, wrapping his arms around himself. I frowned, but then caught sight of the clock. I laughed.

"Yeah, you're probably right," I muttered. Collin moved away from me, giving me room to slip under the covers. I smiled in pleasure as I felt the warm covers heat up my cold body. The soft sheets lifted off me for a moment as Collin slipped under them as well. He smiled at me, looking lost but delighted at the same time. I felt the same way.

I hadn't even just slept with Johnny. We had never just lay together, not having sex. Collin was my first real kiss, my first real date, and now my first "sleeping buddy". I felt amazed, liking this boy better and better. I reached into my hoodie and clenched the star on the necklace. Collin smiled at me.

Then I sighed, and finally lay down. I closed my eyes, taking in Collin’s smell and the comfort of having him...there. I could feel his body heat, but it wasn't enough. I reached out blindly, feeling around for his hand. I realized that he was trying to find mine as well, and our fingers collided. Our fingers intertwined, and I smiled. I opened my eyes and looked over at him. He was smiling at me as well. Then we both fell asleep, fingers intertwined, and smiles on our faces.

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Finding Mr. Perfect's Flaws (boyxboy) [Eighteen]