Fic: The World Cracked Open (House Arrest, Matt/T.J., PG)
Title: The World Cracked Open
Fandom: House Arrest
Pairing: Matt/T.J.
Rating: PG
Summary: Part 2 of the Kiss Series.
November 16: Kiss #1
I still can't decide which kiss I should count as the first one -- the kiss on my head or the first time he kissed me on the lips. I mean it's not really a kiss if it's just on your head, right?
I can't believe I'm writing this down in the first place. If Jimmy finds it -- or worse, my dad -- I'm screwed. That wouldn't be as bad as him seeing it -- talk about embarrassing. I gotta do something, though. I mean I can't just tell Grover, can I?
If I'd known it was gonna be this confusing I never would've asked him to kiss me in the first place.
Matt looked down at the notebook page and shook his head, gnawing absently on the end of his pen as he asked himself for the hundredth time what he was doing. He'd never really seen the draw of writing things down; he'd always thought of himself as a visual person, but he couldn't exactly film every kiss for posterity.
The thought of that sent a weird thrill through him that he did his best to ignore, shifting in his chair and leaning over his notebook again.
Maybe I shouldn't be writing all this down, but I've gotta tell somebody what happened between me and T you-know-who.
Okay, so if I count the first time he kissed me on the lips as the first real kiss, that makes six - no, wait - seven times he's kissed me so far. There was the first one, then he told me to shut up and kissed me again, and until Mom came up and told him he had to get home there were four more kisses. Then that last one outside when I walked out to his van with him, so that makes seven. He's kissed me seven times and I don't even know if this means he's my boyfriend.
Man, I gotta get a grip.
When he was finished writing he set his pen down and stared at the page for a long moment. He could hear his mother yelling down the hall for his brothers to get ready for school, which meant he only had a few minutes before she came down to his room to make sure he was dressed. He'd written the journal entry in his Biology notebook, but he couldn't risk leaving it in there and taking it to school with him. On the one hand at least he'd have it with him, but there was no telling who could get their hands on it if he accidentally left his notebook in class or something.
No, it would be better if he hid it somewhere in his room; somewhere him mother would never think to look if she decided to clean up after him. He glanced around the room for a moment, searching desperately for the perfect hiding spot. When his gaze finally landed on it he grinned and ripped the page out of the notebook, folding it in half and then in half again before he stood up. He could hear his mother's voice getting closer as he picked up a videotape case, the spine of the tape carefully lettered in his boyish handwriting. Just as his bedroom door swung open he tucked the paper into the case, shoving it back on the shelf with his other videotapes before he looked up at his mother.
"Matt, would you corral your brothers and come on downstairs? The waffles are getting cold."
"Sure, Mom," he answered, flashing his most cheerful grin in an attempt to look innocent. He expected her to turn and head back downstairs to make sure his dad hadn't eaten all the frozen waffles while she wasn't looking, but instead she just stood in his doorway and frowned at him.
"Are you alright?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," he answered, wincing when his voice squeaked a little on the last word. "Never better."
She frowned at him for another second, but before he had time to get nervous she shook her head and turned around. "If you say so," she called over her shoulder. "But if you're coming down with something you stay away from your brothers. I don't need three sick kids."
He waited until she was gone to let out the breath he'd been holding, running his hands over his face and glancing frantically at the rows of videotapes on his shelf. Nothing looked out of place, but he couldn't help feeling like she knew exactly what he was up to. He felt like the truth was written all over his face - like there was a big neon sign over his head flashing the words 'I kissed T.J.' over and over. There was no way she could know, but that didn't help the queasy feeling in his stomach or the nervous sweat that broke out on his forehead.
And the worst part was yet to come, because ever since T.J. had pulled out of his driveway with a final wave goodbye Matt hadn't been able to stop thinking about the next time he'd see the other boy again. He had no idea what to expect; maybe T.J. had changed his mind overnight and wouldn't even want to look at him, or maybe it had all been a joke and as soon as he walked into school everybody would laugh and point. Maybe T.J. hadn't really changed after all, and the past few months had all been a set-up. Only nobody would go through that much trouble for a joke, would they?
It wasn't too late; his mom had thought he was coming down with something, so he could probably still get away with staying home. As much as he wanted to avoid seeing T.J., though, there was another, stronger part of him that really, really wanted to see his friend again. It wasn't like he could stay out of school forever - sooner or later he'd have to face the rest of the world, and if last night hadn't meant the same to T.J. that it meant to him it was probably better if he found out now.
Not that he was exactly sure what any of it meant, but he knew he wanted it to happen again.
By the time he got to school he was sure all eyes were on him. He tried telling himself that he was just being paranoid, but there was a small, panicked part of him that was sure the whole thing had been a joke and that T.J. had already told everybody what happened. As he made his way down the hall toward his locker no one stopped him or pointed, though, and by the time he’d shoved his books in his locker and turned around again no one was staring or laughing.
No one was even looking at him, as a matter of fact, except Grover, who was headed down the hall in his direction. His best friend stopped next to his locker and let his backpack slide off his shoulder. “Hey.”
“Hey,” Matt echoed, working hard not to look as nervous as he felt.
“What’s up?”
“Nothing,” Matt answered a little too quickly, stopping just short of actually wincing at the slightly panicked sound of his voice. “Just got here. Why?”
“Just asking,” Grover answered. If Matt had been looking at his friend he would have caught the bemused frown marring the other boy’s features, but he was too busy scanning the hall for any sign of T.J. “Are you okay?”
Matt paused in his search for T.J. and forced himself to focus on Grover. He swallowed and reached up to tuck his hair behind his ear, willing himself to calm down enough to keep Grover from getting any more suspicious than he already was. He had no idea what was going to happen when he saw T.J. again, but if he didn’t get a grip he was going to do something stupid and embarrass them both.
“Yeah, sure, I’m fine,” he finally answered, forcing what he hoped was a convincing smile. “Where’s Brooke?”
Changing the subject to his girlfriend did the trick; Matt had learned pretty quickly that any time he wanted to get rid of Grover, all he had to do was mention Brooke. He hadn’t given much thought to why he’d been trying to ditch his supposed best friend lately, but after last night it was hard to ignore the reason.
“I’m meeting her at her locker,” Grover answered, glancing automatically in the opposite direction. “I guess I better get over there.”
“Okay, see you later. Tell her hi,” Matt said, hoping he sounded more cheerful than anxious. Grover gave him a look that let Matt know he wasn’t being very convincing, but before he had time to think of an explanation for his weird behavior Brooke appeared at Grover’s elbow.
She flashed a bright grin at Matt before turning to Grover, leaning forward to plant a quick kiss on his cheek. “Hi,” Grover murmured, and for once Matt didn’t mind the fact that his best friend was completely whipped over his girlfriend. At least Brooke’s sudden appearance had taken his friend’s mind off Matt long enough for him to make his escape.
“Hey, Brooke,” Matt said, shifting his backpack onto his shoulder and taking a step backwards. “So I better go. I’ll catch you guys later.”
He turned before either of them could answer, walking as quickly as he could without actually breaking into a sprint down the hall. As soon as he reached the boys’ bathroom he ducked inside, letting out a deep breath when he found it deserted. He leaned back against the door and closed his eyes, willing his heart to stop beating so fast. Grover didn’t know anything, but if Matt kept acting like he was guilty of something then people were going to figure out that something was up. And the worst part was that he didn’t even know if there was anything to keep quiet about, because he hadn’t seen T.J. yet and for all he knew last night might have been a one-time thing.
When he heard footsteps outside the bathroom door his eyes flew open, and he tensed and took a few steps forward just as the door swung open. He barely managed to avoid being caught by the edge of the swinging wooden door, but he didn’t even notice how close he’d come to getting hit. All his attention was focused on the person walking through the door, his heart in his throat as he came face to face with T.J.
The door swung shut again as T.J. stopped and stared at him; it was obvious he hadn't been expecting to find Matt on the other side of the door, and Matt couldn't tell whether he was glad to see him or not. He could still hear the rush of activity in the hallway just a few feet past the door, but it was reduced to a constant murmur and he could almost imagine that they were alone.
“Hey,” he said, reaching up to tuck his hair behind his ears. His mind raced for something more intelligent to say, but it was hard to think while T.J. was staring at him like he’d never seen him before.
“Hey.” Okay, so maybe it was lame, but at least they were both at a loss for words. That was a good sign, right? Or maybe it just meant that T.J. didn’t want to deal with him. Maybe he’d been planning to avoid Matt for the rest of the school year, or go back to pretending they didn’t know each other.
He opened his mouth to say something - anything to alleviate the tense silence between them - but before he found the words T.J. stepped forward and reached for his arm. He knew he should be embarrassed about the rush he got just from that simple touch, but when T.J. began pushing him toward the stalls lining one side of the bathroom he skipped over desire and rushed headlong into fear. There was only one reason T.J. ever dragged anybody into one of the bathroom stalls, and up until a few months ago Matt’s entire self-defense plan had been designed around avoiding being in the bathroom at the same time as T.J.
T.J. had pretty much stopped pushing the younger kids around since he started hanging out with Matt, but it was possible that kissing another guy had made him realize how far he’d strayed from his image. Maybe he’d decided that he needed to make an example of Matt to remind the rest of the school that he was still the scariest guy in the sophomore class; but if that was what he was doing wouldn’t he want witnesses?
He stumbled a little on the way into the stall, T.J.'s firm grip on his arm the only thing keeping him from falling as the other boy stepped in behind him. As soon as the door swung shut he felt himself being turned around and pressed up against cool metal, T.J.’s hands still gripping his arms firmly.
“Look, can’t we talk about this?”
As soon as the words escaped his lips T.J. frowned, but before he had a chance to answer the outer door swung open and someone walked into the bathroom. T.J. pressed a finger to Matt's lips, releasing a barely audible ‘shh’ that warmed Matt’s cheek and sent another rush of electric desire down his spine. And if that wasn’t pathetic he didn’t know what was, because he was completely at T.J.’s mercy and probably about to be killed, and all he could think about was the finger pressed gently but firmly against his lips.
He could hear whoever-it-was moving around in the bathroom; he recognized the sound of a backpack thudding against tile as it was dropped to the floor, then the slide of a zipper being lowered. Thankfully whoever was out there hadn’t come back to the stalls or he might have noticed that there were two sets of feet under the stall they were standing in, but if Matt wasn’t mistaken he was all the way across the room at one of the urinals. Although if T.J. was planning on killing him maybe it would be better if they got caught; at least that way Matt might escape with his life, and then he’d run straight home and do whatever it took to convince his dad to let him transfer to a new school.
They listened while the urinal flushed, then the sound of running water from one of the sinks assaulted their ears. Matt was so distracted with the progress of the anonymous person on the other side of the door that he didn’t notice the way T.J. was looking at him, and when he felt a hand slide under his chin he flinched. A low, soothing sound escaped T.J.’s throat as he turned Matt’s face forward again, their eyes finally meeting as the water shut off. Then T.J. grinned, but it wasn’t the menacing, dangerous grin he used sometimes when he was thinking of some new way to stir up trouble. This was the grin Matt had been seeing a lot of lately; kind of shy, almost childish, and it made his heart skip a beat and then lodge directly in his throat.
He had just enough time to register the sound of the bathroom door opening and then closing again before T.J. leaned forward, one hand sliding around the back of his neck to pull him closer. This was definitely better than T.J. dragging him in here to give him a black eye or a bloody nose, and suddenly he couldn’t remember why he’d been so determined that T.J. was going to kill him. Somehow in the twelve hours since their last kiss he’d forgotten that T.J. was the one that had kissed him; he’d forgotten the way the older boy’s fingers moved through his hair, and the way T.J. had practically pulled him out of the house the night before for one last kiss.
That had been kiss number seven. Kiss number eight was…well, it definitely wasn’t what he’d been expecting. There was no way he ever would have thought that T.J. would kiss him right in school; granted they were sort of hidden, but all anybody had to do was look down and they’d both be busted. He wasn’t sure what would happen to them if anybody caught them making out in the bathroom, but he couldn’t make himself care while T.J. was pressed up against him. Before he even realized he’d moved his hands were closing around the front of T.J.’s shirt, rendering the already rumpled fabric into a hopeless mess of wrinkles.
The hand that had been on his neck slid up and into his hair, T.J.’s other hand braced against the metal door behind him. Somewhere in the back of his head was a voice telling him that they probably shouldn’t be doing this, but T.J.’s mouth felt way too good against his and he couldn’t really move anyway with so much solid teenager pressed up against him. T.J. was a lot bigger than him, after all, so it wouldn’t do Matt much good to put up a fight even if he wanted to. And he didn't want to; the last thing in the world he wanted was to stop.
Thinking that way pretty much guaranteed that the kiss would end before he was ready, and he found himself gripping T.J.'s shirt a little tighter as the other boy pulled away to look at him. "What were you gonna say?"
"Huh?" Matt murmured, blinking stupidly as he tried to get his brain to catch up with him long enough to register the question.
"You said you wanted to talk about something. What were you gonna say?"
"Oh. That." It had only been a few minutes since T.J. hauled him into the bathroom stall, but it felt like years had passed while they were standing pressed against each other in the tiny stall. He wasn't sure what he would have said if they hadn't been interrupted, but now that he knew T.J. wasn't going to kill him after all it didn't matter anymore. "It was nothing, forget it."
"You sure? Because you looked kinda scared for a minute there," T.J. said, his hand leaving Matt's neck as he pulled away completely. Matt was painfully aware as soon as T.J. straightened up of how hard he was. It was nothing unusual; he'd be fifteen in a few weeks, and for the past year even watching the kid next door mow the lawn was enough to get him going. So it was natural that making out with his…he paused when the thought occurred to him, clearing his throat nervously and fixing his gaze on one of the buttons in T.J.'s shirt.
"I was just wondering," he began, heat creeping up his throat and into his cheeks as he searched for the right words, "you know, after last night and everything…does this mean…?"
He trailed off miserably, positive his face was glowing crimson with the blush. There was no way he could ask that question without dying of humiliation before he ever got an answer. He had to know, though; there was no way he could spend the rest of the day in class not knowing what was happening between them.
"What?" T.J. prompted, genuine confusion marring his features when Matt looked up at him.
When he looked back on that moment later he'd know what gave him the courage to force the words out; maybe it was the way T.J. looked at him like he actually cared what Matt had to say, or maybe it was the thought of not knowing that bothered him. Either way he took a deep breath, screwed up all the courage he could muster, and hoped to God this wasn't going to get him killed after all. "Does this make me your boyfriend?"
For an agonizing moment that could have been an eternity T.J. just stared at him, but just when Matt was starting to wonder if he'd even said it out loud the older boy's lips quirked into a grin. His own mouth turned up in a nervous approximation of the same smile, only to fade again when T.J. started to laugh. He wasn't sure what reaction he'd been expecting; disgust, maybe, or possibly a pat on the head and T.J. telling him he was a cute kid. He knew everyone at school thought it was kind of weird that T.J. was suddenly hanging out with a lowly freshman - and a relatively unpopular one, at that - but he hadn't expected his friend to laugh at him.
His stomach twisted and he pushed himself off the door, intent on leaving the bathroom before the insults started. T.J. was still standing right in front of him, though, and as soon as Matt started to turn the other boy took a step forward and trapped him against the door again.
"Wait," T.J. said, his laughter fading to a smile that didn't look nearly as mocking as Matt had expected. "Do you wanna be my boyfriend?"
There was no point in lying about it now, not after he'd come right out and asked. Only he wasn't even sure if he did want to be T.J.'s or anybody else's boyfriend; he'd wondered about kissing other guys for awhile now, but going out with somebody was a lot different than just making out. He wasn't sure he was ready for that, but when he met T.J.'s gaze and saw the hope in the other boy's eyes he opened his mouth and answered without even thinking. "Yeah. Yeah, I do."
"Good." T.J. leaned into him again, warm chest pinning him to cool metal as their lips met for kiss number nine. Matt made a mental note of the number so he could write this one down when he got home; there was no way he could write down all of them, especially not now that they were officially a couple. He wanted to remember the important ones, though, and the only way he could think of to do that was to keep a running total. It was hard to focus on the number when his mind was still stuck back on the word 'couple' - he was part of a couple. It was almost harder to believe than Brooke Figler going out with Grover, but that had happened so maybe this wasn't so strange after all.
~
November 17: Kiss #9
He really wants to be my boyfriend. He didn't say it out loud, but I knew what he meant. So does that make #9 our first official kiss? Maybe I should start counting from 1 again.
I can't believe I have a boyfriend.
"...then I did the simplest thing in the world.
I leaned down... and kissed him.
And the world cracked open."
-Agnes de Mille, b. 1905-
Fandom: House Arrest
Pairing: Matt/T.J.
Rating: PG
Summary: Part 2 of the Kiss Series.
November 16: Kiss #1
I still can't decide which kiss I should count as the first one -- the kiss on my head or the first time he kissed me on the lips. I mean it's not really a kiss if it's just on your head, right?
I can't believe I'm writing this down in the first place. If Jimmy finds it -- or worse, my dad -- I'm screwed. That wouldn't be as bad as him seeing it -- talk about embarrassing. I gotta do something, though. I mean I can't just tell Grover, can I?
If I'd known it was gonna be this confusing I never would've asked him to kiss me in the first place.
Matt looked down at the notebook page and shook his head, gnawing absently on the end of his pen as he asked himself for the hundredth time what he was doing. He'd never really seen the draw of writing things down; he'd always thought of himself as a visual person, but he couldn't exactly film every kiss for posterity.
The thought of that sent a weird thrill through him that he did his best to ignore, shifting in his chair and leaning over his notebook again.
Maybe I shouldn't be writing all this down, but I've gotta tell somebody what happened between me and T you-know-who.
Okay, so if I count the first time he kissed me on the lips as the first real kiss, that makes six - no, wait - seven times he's kissed me so far. There was the first one, then he told me to shut up and kissed me again, and until Mom came up and told him he had to get home there were four more kisses. Then that last one outside when I walked out to his van with him, so that makes seven. He's kissed me seven times and I don't even know if this means he's my boyfriend.
Man, I gotta get a grip.
When he was finished writing he set his pen down and stared at the page for a long moment. He could hear his mother yelling down the hall for his brothers to get ready for school, which meant he only had a few minutes before she came down to his room to make sure he was dressed. He'd written the journal entry in his Biology notebook, but he couldn't risk leaving it in there and taking it to school with him. On the one hand at least he'd have it with him, but there was no telling who could get their hands on it if he accidentally left his notebook in class or something.
No, it would be better if he hid it somewhere in his room; somewhere him mother would never think to look if she decided to clean up after him. He glanced around the room for a moment, searching desperately for the perfect hiding spot. When his gaze finally landed on it he grinned and ripped the page out of the notebook, folding it in half and then in half again before he stood up. He could hear his mother's voice getting closer as he picked up a videotape case, the spine of the tape carefully lettered in his boyish handwriting. Just as his bedroom door swung open he tucked the paper into the case, shoving it back on the shelf with his other videotapes before he looked up at his mother.
"Matt, would you corral your brothers and come on downstairs? The waffles are getting cold."
"Sure, Mom," he answered, flashing his most cheerful grin in an attempt to look innocent. He expected her to turn and head back downstairs to make sure his dad hadn't eaten all the frozen waffles while she wasn't looking, but instead she just stood in his doorway and frowned at him.
"Are you alright?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," he answered, wincing when his voice squeaked a little on the last word. "Never better."
She frowned at him for another second, but before he had time to get nervous she shook her head and turned around. "If you say so," she called over her shoulder. "But if you're coming down with something you stay away from your brothers. I don't need three sick kids."
He waited until she was gone to let out the breath he'd been holding, running his hands over his face and glancing frantically at the rows of videotapes on his shelf. Nothing looked out of place, but he couldn't help feeling like she knew exactly what he was up to. He felt like the truth was written all over his face - like there was a big neon sign over his head flashing the words 'I kissed T.J.' over and over. There was no way she could know, but that didn't help the queasy feeling in his stomach or the nervous sweat that broke out on his forehead.
And the worst part was yet to come, because ever since T.J. had pulled out of his driveway with a final wave goodbye Matt hadn't been able to stop thinking about the next time he'd see the other boy again. He had no idea what to expect; maybe T.J. had changed his mind overnight and wouldn't even want to look at him, or maybe it had all been a joke and as soon as he walked into school everybody would laugh and point. Maybe T.J. hadn't really changed after all, and the past few months had all been a set-up. Only nobody would go through that much trouble for a joke, would they?
It wasn't too late; his mom had thought he was coming down with something, so he could probably still get away with staying home. As much as he wanted to avoid seeing T.J., though, there was another, stronger part of him that really, really wanted to see his friend again. It wasn't like he could stay out of school forever - sooner or later he'd have to face the rest of the world, and if last night hadn't meant the same to T.J. that it meant to him it was probably better if he found out now.
Not that he was exactly sure what any of it meant, but he knew he wanted it to happen again.
By the time he got to school he was sure all eyes were on him. He tried telling himself that he was just being paranoid, but there was a small, panicked part of him that was sure the whole thing had been a joke and that T.J. had already told everybody what happened. As he made his way down the hall toward his locker no one stopped him or pointed, though, and by the time he’d shoved his books in his locker and turned around again no one was staring or laughing.
No one was even looking at him, as a matter of fact, except Grover, who was headed down the hall in his direction. His best friend stopped next to his locker and let his backpack slide off his shoulder. “Hey.”
“Hey,” Matt echoed, working hard not to look as nervous as he felt.
“What’s up?”
“Nothing,” Matt answered a little too quickly, stopping just short of actually wincing at the slightly panicked sound of his voice. “Just got here. Why?”
“Just asking,” Grover answered. If Matt had been looking at his friend he would have caught the bemused frown marring the other boy’s features, but he was too busy scanning the hall for any sign of T.J. “Are you okay?”
Matt paused in his search for T.J. and forced himself to focus on Grover. He swallowed and reached up to tuck his hair behind his ear, willing himself to calm down enough to keep Grover from getting any more suspicious than he already was. He had no idea what was going to happen when he saw T.J. again, but if he didn’t get a grip he was going to do something stupid and embarrass them both.
“Yeah, sure, I’m fine,” he finally answered, forcing what he hoped was a convincing smile. “Where’s Brooke?”
Changing the subject to his girlfriend did the trick; Matt had learned pretty quickly that any time he wanted to get rid of Grover, all he had to do was mention Brooke. He hadn’t given much thought to why he’d been trying to ditch his supposed best friend lately, but after last night it was hard to ignore the reason.
“I’m meeting her at her locker,” Grover answered, glancing automatically in the opposite direction. “I guess I better get over there.”
“Okay, see you later. Tell her hi,” Matt said, hoping he sounded more cheerful than anxious. Grover gave him a look that let Matt know he wasn’t being very convincing, but before he had time to think of an explanation for his weird behavior Brooke appeared at Grover’s elbow.
She flashed a bright grin at Matt before turning to Grover, leaning forward to plant a quick kiss on his cheek. “Hi,” Grover murmured, and for once Matt didn’t mind the fact that his best friend was completely whipped over his girlfriend. At least Brooke’s sudden appearance had taken his friend’s mind off Matt long enough for him to make his escape.
“Hey, Brooke,” Matt said, shifting his backpack onto his shoulder and taking a step backwards. “So I better go. I’ll catch you guys later.”
He turned before either of them could answer, walking as quickly as he could without actually breaking into a sprint down the hall. As soon as he reached the boys’ bathroom he ducked inside, letting out a deep breath when he found it deserted. He leaned back against the door and closed his eyes, willing his heart to stop beating so fast. Grover didn’t know anything, but if Matt kept acting like he was guilty of something then people were going to figure out that something was up. And the worst part was that he didn’t even know if there was anything to keep quiet about, because he hadn’t seen T.J. yet and for all he knew last night might have been a one-time thing.
When he heard footsteps outside the bathroom door his eyes flew open, and he tensed and took a few steps forward just as the door swung open. He barely managed to avoid being caught by the edge of the swinging wooden door, but he didn’t even notice how close he’d come to getting hit. All his attention was focused on the person walking through the door, his heart in his throat as he came face to face with T.J.
The door swung shut again as T.J. stopped and stared at him; it was obvious he hadn't been expecting to find Matt on the other side of the door, and Matt couldn't tell whether he was glad to see him or not. He could still hear the rush of activity in the hallway just a few feet past the door, but it was reduced to a constant murmur and he could almost imagine that they were alone.
“Hey,” he said, reaching up to tuck his hair behind his ears. His mind raced for something more intelligent to say, but it was hard to think while T.J. was staring at him like he’d never seen him before.
“Hey.” Okay, so maybe it was lame, but at least they were both at a loss for words. That was a good sign, right? Or maybe it just meant that T.J. didn’t want to deal with him. Maybe he’d been planning to avoid Matt for the rest of the school year, or go back to pretending they didn’t know each other.
He opened his mouth to say something - anything to alleviate the tense silence between them - but before he found the words T.J. stepped forward and reached for his arm. He knew he should be embarrassed about the rush he got just from that simple touch, but when T.J. began pushing him toward the stalls lining one side of the bathroom he skipped over desire and rushed headlong into fear. There was only one reason T.J. ever dragged anybody into one of the bathroom stalls, and up until a few months ago Matt’s entire self-defense plan had been designed around avoiding being in the bathroom at the same time as T.J.
T.J. had pretty much stopped pushing the younger kids around since he started hanging out with Matt, but it was possible that kissing another guy had made him realize how far he’d strayed from his image. Maybe he’d decided that he needed to make an example of Matt to remind the rest of the school that he was still the scariest guy in the sophomore class; but if that was what he was doing wouldn’t he want witnesses?
He stumbled a little on the way into the stall, T.J.'s firm grip on his arm the only thing keeping him from falling as the other boy stepped in behind him. As soon as the door swung shut he felt himself being turned around and pressed up against cool metal, T.J.’s hands still gripping his arms firmly.
“Look, can’t we talk about this?”
As soon as the words escaped his lips T.J. frowned, but before he had a chance to answer the outer door swung open and someone walked into the bathroom. T.J. pressed a finger to Matt's lips, releasing a barely audible ‘shh’ that warmed Matt’s cheek and sent another rush of electric desire down his spine. And if that wasn’t pathetic he didn’t know what was, because he was completely at T.J.’s mercy and probably about to be killed, and all he could think about was the finger pressed gently but firmly against his lips.
He could hear whoever-it-was moving around in the bathroom; he recognized the sound of a backpack thudding against tile as it was dropped to the floor, then the slide of a zipper being lowered. Thankfully whoever was out there hadn’t come back to the stalls or he might have noticed that there were two sets of feet under the stall they were standing in, but if Matt wasn’t mistaken he was all the way across the room at one of the urinals. Although if T.J. was planning on killing him maybe it would be better if they got caught; at least that way Matt might escape with his life, and then he’d run straight home and do whatever it took to convince his dad to let him transfer to a new school.
They listened while the urinal flushed, then the sound of running water from one of the sinks assaulted their ears. Matt was so distracted with the progress of the anonymous person on the other side of the door that he didn’t notice the way T.J. was looking at him, and when he felt a hand slide under his chin he flinched. A low, soothing sound escaped T.J.’s throat as he turned Matt’s face forward again, their eyes finally meeting as the water shut off. Then T.J. grinned, but it wasn’t the menacing, dangerous grin he used sometimes when he was thinking of some new way to stir up trouble. This was the grin Matt had been seeing a lot of lately; kind of shy, almost childish, and it made his heart skip a beat and then lodge directly in his throat.
He had just enough time to register the sound of the bathroom door opening and then closing again before T.J. leaned forward, one hand sliding around the back of his neck to pull him closer. This was definitely better than T.J. dragging him in here to give him a black eye or a bloody nose, and suddenly he couldn’t remember why he’d been so determined that T.J. was going to kill him. Somehow in the twelve hours since their last kiss he’d forgotten that T.J. was the one that had kissed him; he’d forgotten the way the older boy’s fingers moved through his hair, and the way T.J. had practically pulled him out of the house the night before for one last kiss.
That had been kiss number seven. Kiss number eight was…well, it definitely wasn’t what he’d been expecting. There was no way he ever would have thought that T.J. would kiss him right in school; granted they were sort of hidden, but all anybody had to do was look down and they’d both be busted. He wasn’t sure what would happen to them if anybody caught them making out in the bathroom, but he couldn’t make himself care while T.J. was pressed up against him. Before he even realized he’d moved his hands were closing around the front of T.J.’s shirt, rendering the already rumpled fabric into a hopeless mess of wrinkles.
The hand that had been on his neck slid up and into his hair, T.J.’s other hand braced against the metal door behind him. Somewhere in the back of his head was a voice telling him that they probably shouldn’t be doing this, but T.J.’s mouth felt way too good against his and he couldn’t really move anyway with so much solid teenager pressed up against him. T.J. was a lot bigger than him, after all, so it wouldn’t do Matt much good to put up a fight even if he wanted to. And he didn't want to; the last thing in the world he wanted was to stop.
Thinking that way pretty much guaranteed that the kiss would end before he was ready, and he found himself gripping T.J.'s shirt a little tighter as the other boy pulled away to look at him. "What were you gonna say?"
"Huh?" Matt murmured, blinking stupidly as he tried to get his brain to catch up with him long enough to register the question.
"You said you wanted to talk about something. What were you gonna say?"
"Oh. That." It had only been a few minutes since T.J. hauled him into the bathroom stall, but it felt like years had passed while they were standing pressed against each other in the tiny stall. He wasn't sure what he would have said if they hadn't been interrupted, but now that he knew T.J. wasn't going to kill him after all it didn't matter anymore. "It was nothing, forget it."
"You sure? Because you looked kinda scared for a minute there," T.J. said, his hand leaving Matt's neck as he pulled away completely. Matt was painfully aware as soon as T.J. straightened up of how hard he was. It was nothing unusual; he'd be fifteen in a few weeks, and for the past year even watching the kid next door mow the lawn was enough to get him going. So it was natural that making out with his…he paused when the thought occurred to him, clearing his throat nervously and fixing his gaze on one of the buttons in T.J.'s shirt.
"I was just wondering," he began, heat creeping up his throat and into his cheeks as he searched for the right words, "you know, after last night and everything…does this mean…?"
He trailed off miserably, positive his face was glowing crimson with the blush. There was no way he could ask that question without dying of humiliation before he ever got an answer. He had to know, though; there was no way he could spend the rest of the day in class not knowing what was happening between them.
"What?" T.J. prompted, genuine confusion marring his features when Matt looked up at him.
When he looked back on that moment later he'd know what gave him the courage to force the words out; maybe it was the way T.J. looked at him like he actually cared what Matt had to say, or maybe it was the thought of not knowing that bothered him. Either way he took a deep breath, screwed up all the courage he could muster, and hoped to God this wasn't going to get him killed after all. "Does this make me your boyfriend?"
For an agonizing moment that could have been an eternity T.J. just stared at him, but just when Matt was starting to wonder if he'd even said it out loud the older boy's lips quirked into a grin. His own mouth turned up in a nervous approximation of the same smile, only to fade again when T.J. started to laugh. He wasn't sure what reaction he'd been expecting; disgust, maybe, or possibly a pat on the head and T.J. telling him he was a cute kid. He knew everyone at school thought it was kind of weird that T.J. was suddenly hanging out with a lowly freshman - and a relatively unpopular one, at that - but he hadn't expected his friend to laugh at him.
His stomach twisted and he pushed himself off the door, intent on leaving the bathroom before the insults started. T.J. was still standing right in front of him, though, and as soon as Matt started to turn the other boy took a step forward and trapped him against the door again.
"Wait," T.J. said, his laughter fading to a smile that didn't look nearly as mocking as Matt had expected. "Do you wanna be my boyfriend?"
There was no point in lying about it now, not after he'd come right out and asked. Only he wasn't even sure if he did want to be T.J.'s or anybody else's boyfriend; he'd wondered about kissing other guys for awhile now, but going out with somebody was a lot different than just making out. He wasn't sure he was ready for that, but when he met T.J.'s gaze and saw the hope in the other boy's eyes he opened his mouth and answered without even thinking. "Yeah. Yeah, I do."
"Good." T.J. leaned into him again, warm chest pinning him to cool metal as their lips met for kiss number nine. Matt made a mental note of the number so he could write this one down when he got home; there was no way he could write down all of them, especially not now that they were officially a couple. He wanted to remember the important ones, though, and the only way he could think of to do that was to keep a running total. It was hard to focus on the number when his mind was still stuck back on the word 'couple' - he was part of a couple. It was almost harder to believe than Brooke Figler going out with Grover, but that had happened so maybe this wasn't so strange after all.
~
November 17: Kiss #9
He really wants to be my boyfriend. He didn't say it out loud, but I knew what he meant. So does that make #9 our first official kiss? Maybe I should start counting from 1 again.
I can't believe I have a boyfriend.
"...then I did the simplest thing in the world.
I leaned down... and kissed him.
And the world cracked open."
-Agnes de Mille, b. 1905-