52. (BoyxBoy)

52. Page 16.

Chapter 11
 It didn’t take Matt’s mum much convincing to let Aiden stay over. Actually, it took none at all. She tried to get Aiden to phone his mum, but he simply avoided it by saying he’d already texted her and she was fine with it. Matt hadn’t left Aiden’s side for hours and he had seen that he hadn’t even touched his phone, but he didn’t question anything. He never did.

Once they were back in the comfort of Matt’s room, Aiden asked, “Does your mum ever come into your room? At night?”

Matt shook his head, “Especially not with friends round.” “So you’ve had friends round before?”

 “Sure. Well, not at this house, but before,” he paused for a minute. “Just friends. Not like you. . .”

 “Like me?” Aiden asked. Matt struggled for something to say and flapped his hands about for a while. “Have you ever had a girlfriend before?” Aiden asked suddenly.

Matt looked at Aiden for a while, considering where to take the conversation. In the end, he just decided on telling the truth. “Yeah, but everyone has. Well, except you maybe. It was just casual, anyway.” It was suddenly obvious that Matt was feeling uncomfortable.

“OK,” Aiden whispered, lightly kissing him on his top lip. Matt was reluctant at first, but eventually returned the kiss with a more forceful one. Trapped in the emotion, they fell to the bed. It was harsher than the first one, but it was also more tender. In a bitter estrangement of thoughts, their minds were clearer. Or maybe they were just more clouded. Either way, they weren’t thinking. They didn’t need to. It was peaceful and blanketed. A sugar rush of passion. It wasn’t lust, it wasn’t love. It was trapped in the moment, forbidding them to let it go. Basically, it was amazing.

It had to end eventually. But when it did, a whole new life started. It was a life of happiness mixed with normality, humour, beauty and reality. The boys had average pizza for tea. Matt’s mum had cooked it, and was quite proud of herself (even though it was quite black). Matt and Aiden ate it happily, at the average dinner table. They laughed and joked with Matt’s average parents, as well as having average conversations. Afterwards, they sneaked off to Matt’s room, where they sat on his bed and watched average television. For an average Saturday evening, there was nothing on. Skipping through channels, they found an average comedy film. It was all average – but incredibly new and exciting. The average-ness peaked into a world of total absurdness. Aiden lived for an average life, but would die for one too. He felt dizzy when he thought of this strange, new, average world. The joy he felt was uncontrollable, undeniable and utterly unbelievable.
He nuzzled his head into Matt’s armpit, and hung his arms around him. “I’m happy,” he whispered in his ear. “I’m so happy,” he repeated. Matt answered, but Aiden never heard his reply, because he was drifting off to a deep, happy, average sleep, right next to his (dare he say it) boyfriend. It was deep, happy, average beauty. It was glisteningly frightening how things could go from absolutely rock-bottom to blissful perfection, in a matter of days. Was it a joke? Was Aiden stupid enough to fall for such a pitiful lie?

Things will never be OK. That’s what he used to tell himself. The sun would set, and he’d still be alive. Alive in a world of hatred and bitterness. He would close his eyes, and still be awake. Purpose would be buried deeper into the hard ground every day. Every piece of humanity would leave him, and he’d be left alone, in dismay and uncertainty. Every day, he’d become stupider than those who care too much to see. Ignorance in a world of bliss. His poisoned mind wouldn’t believe the headlines because they wouldn’t mean anything to him. He wasn’t part of this mad world. Wasn’t . . .  or isn’t? 

What was he even talking about? Did it matter? His head started to make less and less sense.

He awoke from his warped dreams early, and turned to see Matt lying peacefully next to him, his arm wrapped around Aiden. It was serene and tranquil: a scene of silence.