Out In The Wind

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“You can’t help everybody in the world Cory, you can barely help yourself,” Patrick says as I close the door behind him.

“Really? You are really going to play that card?” I ask. I can feel myself getting red in the face, my blood boiling under my skin. “I never said I wanted to save the world. I just wanted to help a person that we pass every day in the school hallways. How many of the kids that we pass in the hallways and judge have problems just like I do? I mean if it wasn’t for Jaycee you still probably wouldn’t have known that I was homeless.”

“Come on Cory. That’s not what I mean and you know it,” Patrick answers falling down on his bed. “I’m just saying that you can’t take every stray dog home.”

“And this is the reason why I contemplated not even phoning you. Why I went to Mandy first. I didn’t want to bring Andy into some rich prick’s house that will just judge him for the situation he’s in,” I say as calmly as possible, but inside I am screaming. Why can’t Patrick just see it from my point of view? Why can’t he just try to help someone the way he wanted to help me as well. Gosh, if I had a place, even just one bedroom to my name for me, my mom, and my sister to sleep in I would still take Andy in on top of all of that just because I know what it feels to have a home the one moment and sleeping in a park the next moment.

“Come on Cory, you know that’s not what I mean. You can come to me with everything. I just meant that you should maybe be looking after yourself first for now. Get back up on your own feet, and then you can help all the awkward stray boys you come across in the park as you want. You know I love you for doing this, but really… You can’t save them all,” Patrick continues, patting on his bed, showing me to sit down next to him but I can feel myself foaming at the mouth. I am scared that if I go to close to him I will punch him.

“So, let’s say the roles were reversed. Say I was the one that just got thrown out onto the street, or ran away from home to get away from someone abusive. Would you have wanted Andy to just walk past me and ignore the fact that I needed help? Is that what you have wanted?” I ask, lowering my voice on purpose. I am scared that if I talk any louder I might just lose it completely.

Patrick looks at me blankly. His mouth opens and after a few seconds he closes it again and looks down at the duvet he is laying on.

“That’s what I thought,” I say walking closer to the bed. “I get it if you are trying to protect me, but I could have been the one in the exact same position as Andy.”

I sit down on the bed and put my hand beneath Patrick’s chin, lifting his face so that he is looking me square in the eyes.

“Do you know how many people sleeps in that park every single night? Do you have any idea how many homeless people… Homeless teens are out there? Sure, some of them are runaways that chose this because they didn’t want to handle their parent’s curfew, or who are on drugs and would rather be out there where they can score a hit whenever they want without the fear of mommy or daddy sending them off to rehab. But then there are people like me. People like Andy. The ones who didn’t ask to end up there. Just kids who got screwed over by life far too early and didn’t have a single resource to fall back on. But I know I can’t save them all. I can’t even save myself. I can’t offer Andy a roof over his head forever. All I can do is ask someone like you, who has the means to help me help him. To just give him a bed for one night. To maybe make a few phone calls to someone who would be able to help him. Come on Patrick. You are the good guy here. Don’t be a jackass,” I speak, almost without even taking a breath.

“When did you become so wise? Last time I looked you were the naïve one,” Patrick says, blinking his eyes several times trying to get rid of the tears I see welling up in his brilliant browns.

“Your eyes make me think of amber tonight. They have a yellow something in them,” I say, moving my face closer to his, wanting to take in his eyes this way. To always remember it this way, sparkling and full of drops that seem to make it shine just that little bit more than usual.

“Kiss me,” Patrick whispers.

The thought of kissing him didn’t even cross my mind before he said it. Up until the moment I looked him in the eyes I was furious at him, but seeing the tears, seeing that he does care even when he doesn’t show it made all of the anger just fade away.

“Why don’t you kiss me?” I ask.

“Because you are the stronger one. I want you to lead Cory. You should always lead, because you think of other. I tend to just think about myself even when I try not to. I need you to lead to keep me on the straight and narrow,” he whispers, a blush appearing on his cheeks.

I let my lips collide with his. Hard. Hard enough to push him down on the bed, flat on his back with me on top of him. Without using my hands I guide his face, his chin, his lips from one side to the other, making him kiss me in every way that turns me on and makes me light up completely. As I sit up, my mouth still on his, the kiss starts to intensify as I rub my bottom against him, feeling Patrick grow underneath me, filling up his jeans, bursting at the seams.

“Stop,” Patrick breathes into my mouth. “If you don’t stop now I won’t be able to hold myself back. I will turn the tables around and throw you down on the bed and make love to you all night long.”

The lust in his eyes burns like a fire as I pull my face away from his.

“You won’t turn the tables,” I answer pulling my shirt over my torso and dropping it next to the bed, exposing myself to Patrick, showing him that I want more than just a kiss.

“No. You don’t get it. I won’t be able to turn back if this goes any further,” Patrick says softly, running one of his hands through his hair, his signature move that he is nervous.

“You told me to lead. To be in control. That’s what I’m doing,” I answer.

“But what if I can’t stop?” Patrick asks.

“You will. Because I need this. Because I need to be in control of something while I cannot be in control in anything else in my life. If you love me you will let me. You will let me take it as far as I need this to go and then you will stop,” I answer. “I trust you.”

Patrick nods slowly, biting his lower lip, showing that he understands but also showing how hard it is for him to say anything else at this moment.

I start unbuttoning his jeans, making him take a sharp intake of breath, his fingers thumbing through his hair, making it stand in a hundred different directions, but I continue. I like the way he is looking at me. Like I am the only person in the world. Like he is in pain and I am the only person that can save him from that pain. That I am the only person he wants or needs at this moment.

Even as I take him in my hand and start stroking up and down he doesn’t move. He doesn’t break eye contact for even a second, and he doesn’t stop dragging his fingers through his hair, almost like he is afraid that if he does anything else than that I might stop, or he might lose control like he said he might.

“Cory,” Patrick starts moaning softly after a while. It sounds like he has caught a cold, his voice harsh and raspy, making my hand move even quicker because of it.

“I want more than this,” I whisper, my breath quickening as well, my voice sounding unfamiliar to myself and I wonder if I also have a husky voice now that will sound just as sexy saying Patrick’s name as when he just said mine.

“God yes,” Patrick moans as he for the first time since I started breaks eye contact to close his eyes and roll his head backwards as I move myself down and lower my head in order to take his in my mouth.

As soon as I begin bobbing my head up and down I can feel Patrick’s hand moving from his head to mine, now making sure that my hair will look just like his, standing all over the place.

“Fuck Cory. Yeah,” he moans, or even hisses. I’m not sure anymore. I’m not even sure what he is really saying anymore at this point. All I know is that I want to help him. I need to help him. I need to take control and bring him to a breaking point and beyond. I need to succeed in something, because I can’t seem to succeed in anything in life anymore.

Every time Patrick moans my name it feels like something is coming alive inside me, and I realize that I haven’t been alive in a very long time. I have failed to the point of no return. I couldn’t stop the bank from taking our house. I couldn’t help us ending up in a car. I failed at being good and protecting the roof my Aunt gave to us. I’m failing at school. I am one huge failure in life, but right here, right now I am someone. I am someone special. I am doing something right. I am succeeding in something that is making someone happy and making myself feel good for the first time in a very long time. And maybe all of this is superficial, or maybe it is all just bodies responding to chemicals hitting the sides of our sculls and going crazy, but at least I am the one in control of it all. I am holding this situation in my hands. I can decide where it goes from here. I can go forth and do whatever I want to do or I can stop, back out and walk away if I want to. At this moment as Patrick is calling my name and saying some words over and over again as I bob my head up and down faster and faster, the moment belongs to me.

It only dawns on me when I taste the salty-sweet in my mouth what Patrick has almost been shouting at the top of his lungs. I only realize when I am forced by myself to swallow why both of his hands are in my hair and why he has pulled up his legs to the sides of my ears.

I look up at Patrick’s smiling face as I release him from my mouth, swallowing the last bit of him, getting rid of the evidence in my mouth.

“Why are you crying?” Patrick asks, his smile fading away. “Is it because..? I mean… I did try to warn you… I told you I was…”

Patrick stutters as I bring my hand up to my face, wiping over the wet staining my cheeks.

“No… It’s not that,” I whisper as I feel more tears flowing over my cheeks.

“Then what? Did I do something wrong? Did you not want to do this?” Patrick asks, a worried frown appearing on his face.

“No. You did everything right. I did everything right,” I say as I wipe more tears from my face, allowing myself to break into a smile. “It’s just… I took control. I didn’t have control, but I took it anyways.”

It doesn’t bother me that Patrick looks at me like I am from Mars, or Venus, or even Jupiter. I feel brave enough at this moment to reach for the Sun.

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