AN: In case it missed in the synopsis, this a short story that will contain a HOMOSEXUAL story line. If that is not something you support, kindly leave now and refrain from spreading hate.
There will scenes of HOMOEROTIC encounters between men. (Sexual encounters).
"We can't wait to see him. Keep warm sweetheart and have a safe journey home. We'll see you both soon."
Never in my entire existence would I have ever imagined that there would come a day wherein I would dread making a journey back home for Christmas. And a three-week one at that. I wasn't even exaggerating, it was that dreadful. I could even feel my stomach drop with the thought of it.
Just thinking back to the last words my mother had said to me was enough to make me wince when I thought of all the potential responses from my parents at the lack of a boyfriend when I showed up. Said boyfriend whom I had apparently been dating for the past year. I sighed just by the mere imagination of the disappointment that would no doubt be edged across their faces.
What on earth was I thinking when I thought up that lie?
That was probably the core problem. I wasn't thinking and had rather made a drastic and stupid decision on impulse when my mother had asked me if I was seeing anyone. After a string of bad relationships and breakups and no doubt disappointment from their side, I suppose lying to her to ease her worry was better than telling her I had just broken up with my recent boyfriend. I suppose I had gotten tired of having to tell her each time she could call off the wedding she had been planning in her mind the second she found out I was dating someone.
I guess that came with being the only child. Don't get me wrong, I wholeheartedly appreciated and loved my parents. Them accepting me and loving me despite my sexual orientation and supporting my coming out made them the best parents in the world. I knew not everyone had it so fortunate. However, that also meant the pressure was higher. Not having any siblings to divert the attention to at times, meant it was all on me. Whether it was schooling or my dating life, my parents knew it all. And that was the pickle I was currently in.
I sighed for what could have been the one-millionth time, or it could just be my dramatic self acting up again. Either way, I could feel a headache beginning to make itself known with the different excuses I was coming up with to explain why there was no boyfriend, excuses that sounded bullshit even to me. I pinched the bridge of my nose and groaned when I realized I didn't really have a way out of it. Either way, I looked at it, I was fucked. And not the good kind either.
I pulled the edges of my oversized jersey past my wrists and balled my fists in them as I brought my hands up to my chin. It was eight in the morning and definitely too early to be thinking this much, and yet that's what I was doing. I was lucky not to have class until eleven so that gave me some headspace to go through a few more potential ways to get myself out of it, even though I knew it was probably useless.
I got up and made my way to the island in the kitchen. Well, if you call the tiny space a kitchen. I filled myself another mug of coffee and added some creamer. I leaned against the counter while I sipped the heavenly goodness. Hearing the snow lightly knock against the window brought my attention to it. It was just past the beginning of winter and the stage of fresh snow. I smiled as I looked out the window, seeing nothing but white, and thought back to my worry-free days as a kid. Wherein I would wait all year for December just to play in the snow. It was ironic since I hated the cold with a passion. Growing up, I loved the winter season since everything looked like a fairytale. All while and magical. Lit up with lights
How did I go from wanting to play in the snow with no worries to worrying about my parents hacking my head for lying about my boyfriend?
Just thinking about it brought out a groan from the depths of my throat. It was then that I heard the front door of our cute little apartment slam open followed by a swear word that I always found so elegant. It was an odd thing. For swearing to sound elegant. Well, he managed to make everything elegant.
I smiled as he came around the corner rubbing his huge palms together swiftly and blowing into them. His track hoody held remnants of snow on them and even a few in his hair.
"It's absolutely freezing out there." He shook his head as if the mere thought of it was absurd.
Well, I would assume if you meant running in blazing snow that's what you'd feel like?
He continued to rub his palms together while he walked to the cabinets. The kitchen was more his thing than mine. Given that he worked in a bakery and was always cooking up a storm whenever he felt stressed out over something. He reached upward and pulled out a box of his infamous tea that his butler back in London always sent for him. What's wrong with American tea you might ask, well that was Harry for you. Claimed he could only drink tea from his hometown.
Harry, or rather Harold Henry Whitfield as he hated to be called, my six-foot-five, British native, professional hockey playing roommate with a weird obsession with chess and baking, was definitely as British as it came. But unlike me, he wasn't the only child. Rather, the youngest of three siblings. In fact, his mother hadn't even known she was pregnant with him until her fifth month. Something about not expecting to fall pregnant that late in life. I didn't know much about his family life aside from that.
I watched him as he filled the kettle and started a rant about some buggar that he had encountered on his run. The more I looked at us standing next to each other, the more I saw how very different we were. It was a mystery how we got along enough to be roommates and best friends. I suppose they weren't bullshitting when they said opposites attract, well in our case, got along even though we were so different.
For one, I was as gay as they come and he was straight. I was a psychology major that lazed about in my free time and are everything in sight while he played professional hockey majoring in Literacy. On to the physical aspects of ourselves, I was on the shorter side for my male species being five foot four and he was a fucking giant next to me. He practically towered over me given that my head came to his chest. I was pale-skinned and petite, compared to his rich dark skin tone and strong body that looked as if he was shipped off the coast of the Caribbean Islands or something. I could go on for days with how different and contrasting we were, yet we worked. In our own odd way.
We had met a year ago while I had been hunting for a roommate after breaking up with my boyfriend slash roommate at the time after finding him bed with a girl, yet again and wanting to change dorms. Unfortunately, there hadn't been any available dorms and the only option was to get a place off-campus and commute daily. That would have been fine had it not been for the ridiculously expensive apartments that were close to the campus and any further than that was not an option with how jam-packed my classes were at the time. That only left me with finding a roommate to split the rent and other expenses with. And Lo and behold, Jesus had helped me out yet again and in walked Harry into my life and saved my drunk ass from calling me ex to take me back because I quote "was going to end up homeless on the streets."
Yes, I can get very dramatic.
Harry had been walking by the park on his way to the bakery he worked at and caught my dramatic ass before my face kissed the ground. I didn't particularly remember the details of the night, but he had said I had looked at him with the most pathetic biggest blue eyes he had ever seen and asked him to room with me. And well that was that. Neither of us looked back since.
I continued to lean against the counter, occasionally playing with the hem of my jersey and looking at him make his cup of tea. Once he was done he lifted the cup to his lips and let out a sigh of relief after the first sip. I would never understand his love for tea. I only did caffeine no questions asked. I suppose that was an Englishman for you. He sipped his tea a few more times before he made eye contact with me and raised his thick eyebrow. As if to ask me what was wrong. Somehow he always knew when something was wrong.
That was another thing I liked about Harry. Just because I was gay, granted I had a pretty bad track of boyfriend choices, he didn't ever think or assume was into him. Like every other straight guy I came across on campus that just magically assumed I wanted to get in their pants. With Harry, it was different. I could freely be myself and not worry if he would perceive it as something different. I had always been the affectionate, touchy type, even with the few friends that I had. So not having to worry what he would think if I hugged him or cooed at him, was a huge relief and something I cherished.
"Nothing. I spoke to my parents this morning though" I hopped onto the table counter and reached for one of his cookies that he made last night. Or well as he called them biscuits.
He nodded his head as he chewed one biscuit while reaching for another to dip in his tea. I knew he was waiting for me to say something. Knowing surely that's not all I wanted to say. I sighed and bit my lip for a second before I let it all out and told him the severity of the situation I was facing. He listened while he sipped his tea and occasionally dipped his biscuits into it. Once I was done he was a second away from bursting out laughing. I rolled my eyes and gave him a millisecond before he tipped his head back and laughed as if his life depended on it. I waited in agitation until he finally stopped laughing and looked at me with a smirk on his face.
"What can I say, mate. This is why I'm astounded that my family is on another continent. And why I don't do relationships" He shook his head and chuckled, which made me tilt my head in question.
"You're not going home for Christmas?"
He shook his head and drank the rest of his tea before taking his cup to the sink. I frowned and watched him as he washed his cup and let it air dry on the counter before he dried his hands with the rag. He leaned against the counter and crossed his strong arms over his broad chest, his eyes remained on me.
"They're going away somewhere. And honestly, I'm not all enthusiastic to have a conversation with my father on how I chose the wrong career path and should have become a doctor. I'd rather stay here and catch up on some reading or studying. It's just three weeks."
I nodded and looked at my mug of coffee while he tidied his 'mess' up which was really just a few crumbs lying about. Though, to Harry, it probably looked like the entire kitchen was dirty. I thought back to what he had said. It wasn't news to me. I knew he had a strained relationship with his father and that his mother was constantly caught in between the two. Though she hardly did anything to mediate the relationship from what I could see. Something I had found out when he was drunk one night and let it out. It was the reason he never went home. He tried to avoid conflict and the disappointment of his father.
I wondered what that felt like. Thankfully I had never experienced something like that. From my birth until my current stage in life, my parents had always been supportive and loving of me. Even when I was dead scared to come out to them, they held me while I cried and apologized for being gay and disappointing them. All the while they told me to stop apologizing for being myself and that they would always love me no matter who I chose to become. I smiled at the memory and looked at Harry while he scrubbed down the counter with a frown on his face. I knew it had nothing to do with the counter being dirty at all.
I wondered if he had ever had a moment like that with his parents. He told me briefly that he had grown up in a very wealthy family that strove for perfection. Both his parents were doctors, as well as his two older siblings and had hopes of him becoming one. When he told them he loved hockey more than anything and wanted to play it professionally, his father had almost disowned him if it weren't for his mother coming in between for the first time. There wasn't much I knew about his life, but the little that I did know, was enough to know he hadn't grown up easy.
"What did you decide to do?" He asked while he rinsed out the sponge, ripping me from my thoughts.
"I don't know. I want to tell them the truth, but I know they'll just be disappointed. I'm twenty-three and haven't had a real relationship like ever. Plus I'm sure my parents are tired of hearing I broke up with a guy yet again." I sighed and slumped my shoulders while I looked at the milky liquid in the mug.
"They are your parents and love you without condition. I personally don't think you should worry about it." He shrugged and turned to smile at me. I smiled back at him even though I disagreed.
"Well if it makes you feel any better, Pat dumped me this morning even though we weren't dating in the first place."
Now that, I didn't see coming.
I mean she was always like a bitch in heat around him, no disrespect, panting and wagging her tail. The sounds that came out of his room one night when I forgot my keys and had to come back for it, was a clear indication she was a very satisfied woman. So this was me very confused. Coupled with the fact that she seemed to think they were in a relationship and told everyone she came across that he was her man.
"She said she wanted a relationship and I don't do those. I don't have the time and energy for one. She got upset and said she won't be my booty call anymore."
Now it was my turn to burst out laughing. To the point of choking and having to hit my chest to be able to breathe again. He smirked at me and grinned so he definitely wasn't affected by his dumping at all. With his body and looks, he wouldn't have a problem finding another booty call anytime soon. He shook his head at my laughter and smiled while he sipped down his track jacket and pulled it off.
"I'm going to take a shower. When are you heading out?"
I bit my lip in anticipation again, a stupid habit I developed as a child, and groaned. I looked out the window and took in the falling snow. I had hoped that the news would say it wouldn't clear up anytime soon and that I'd have a few more days to think this through. But no, Jesus wanted to punish me for my lying and make me face the music. The news had said that the snow blizzards had cleared up and it was now safe to travel.
"I have one last class at eleven then I'll come back and pack up the last of my things. I'm driving because it's about five hours away, so I'll leave tonight."
He nodded and gave me a salute before he laughed and walked toward his room. Trust him to make a fool of me when my life was literally on the line. Just thinking of my mother's excited expression when I pulled up our driveway, to meet my boyfriend, only for it to drop when I came out of the car alone. They had never met any of my boyfriends before, mainly because I never had one long enough to actually take him to meet my parents. Just the thought of it had been banging my head on the table.
Santa, please help! I promise to be a good boy!