Theo

Bite

We shoveled out ten cars and four walkways.  All together we made about $100 each.

     Not bad for a hard days work.  After splitting ways since everybody had to get back for their Christmas eve traditions, I wandered back to the house to find mom on the porch, a fifty dollar bill in her hand.  “Wanna make a quick buck?” she asked, smiling sweetly.

    I was panting a little, tired and cold, but nodded anyway.  I wound up doing our walk and the neighbors on either side of us.  The man to the right is a business guy, really busy, and dropped a fifty on me which brought me to $200 and the elderly couple to our right I did for free.  My mom offered my services pro-bono without even discussing it with me.  I tried not to be too annoyed, especially when they sat me down and fed me some of the best cookies I’d ever tasted in my life.  They were some kind of tea cookie with powdered sugar on the outside.  I’d never really talked to Shirley before today but I thought it could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

    When I finally put the shovel away and pulled off my hunting jacket, I was sweaty and tired and just wanted a nice shower, some hot cocoa and maybe a nap.  Yeah, I could definitely nap.

    I was already pulling my hoodie off, still overheated as I stumbled upstairs, moving toward the bathroom.  I’d been so distracted that, when I stumbled into my bedroom, I was already half stripped, moving to push my sweatpants down when I realized I wasn’t alone.  Blinking groggily, I straightened, taking in Phil’s expression.  He looked shocked.  “Hi,” he muttered.

    “Hey,” I said, raking my hand through my hair.  So much sweat.  “You mean you were here the whole time mom was pimping out my shoveling services to the neighbors?”

    His dark eyes widened as he tried to feign innocence.

    I glowered.  “You should’ve helped.”

    “You looked like you had it covered,” he said, eyes roving over me.

    I tossed the sweaty clothing at him and he hit it away, muttering, “Yuck.”

    “You suck.”  I gave him a hard look before stomping into the bathroom.

. . .

Christmas eve isn’t a party night for my family or anything.  Mom had already put up the tree in the beginning of December but that was what lit up the living room, the whole house gloomy but in a magical kind of away.  At least, that’s what Violet said when she hopped up onto the couch, looking super content in her comfy clothes, fuzzy socks on her feet.  We always did this on Christmas Even, everybody watching Christmas movies in the living room while sucking down hot cocoa with whipped cream.  It was a day for relaxation according to my parents and after all that shoveling, I agreed.

    I reclined my seat, putting my feet up.  While we have a decent sized couch, we also have a reclining love seat which is really just my seat.  Dad would rather cuddle up with Mom on the couch and Violet liked sitting beside them so that left me with this giant piece of heaven.

    Phil sat next to Violet who immediately smiled at him.  She was always doing that, smiling at him, talking to him—it was annoying because sometimes it seemed like he got along better with her than me.  Made no sense before seeing how Violet is a girl but now that I knew about his preferences, I guess it kind of does.  It was kind of funny actually, looking back, since I’d thought for a while that he might have a crush on my sister.  I scrunched my nose at the thought.  Ew.

     Taking another swig of hot chocolate, I set it on the floor and nestled back, to watch the Grinch. 

. . .

“Theo.”

     I blinked up at Phil, realizing that I must’ve fallen asleep.

    Tiredly, I lifted myself up, kicking the leg rest down as I stretched my hands upward, yawning.  “What time is it?” I wondered.

    “Close to eleven.  Everybody else already headed for bed.”

    I scratched my head, smacking my lips.  “Hm.”

    “I was going to just leave you but I thought—“

    “I’d be mad,” I said, frowning up at him.

    “Yeah,” Phil said, nodding.

    “Did you have fun?” I wondered, not even sure why I asked.  He stiffened, ducking his head, tucking his hands into his front hoodie pocket.  He looked so uncomfortable.  I sighed, muttering, “I mean here.  For Christmas eve.”

    He nodded.  Phil knows me pretty well.  He knows when I lie.

    Getting up, I noticed how he stumbled back a little, carefully avoiding eye contact as I stood there, staring down at him for a minute.  His whole stance was weird, slouched, small.  I felt annoyed just looking at him, thinking about Harrison standing over him like this, looking down at him with a mind full of nothing but bad intentions.  I shouldn’t let it bother me but it just didn’t sit right with me.  Not one bit. “I-I liked the hot chocolate,” he muttered, shifting in front of me.

    “Yeah, mom always makes it in the crock pot."  I don't know why I said it.  He was here last year too.

    “I know,” he muttered, scratching at the back of his neck.  His collar shifted, head falling to the side, and I noticed something there on his neck.  It wasn’t a hickey.  Grabbing his collar, I pushed it down to see and he jerked away from me like I’d stung him.  Jerked away from me.  Me!  I blinked, trying to calm the anger that boiled through me as I realized what I’d just seen.

    Brushing past him, I was halfway up the steps before I realized he wasn’t following.

    “Phil,” I called, glaring down at him.

    “Uh, I should—“

    “Come on,” I said, jogging the rest of the way upstairs, knowing he’d follow me.

. . .

Phil was nervous.  He should probably be nervous.

    He’d taken a seat on my bed, scooting all the way to the corner, trying to make himself smaller while I sat there in silence, trying to calm the storm brewing just beneath the surface.  Phil was a small guy.  I always noticed our differences, his petite qualities—I didn’t expect him to grow to be the same size as me.  His mother was tiny and they never talk about his dad but Phils only saving grace would probably be if the guy was like seven feet tall and hit some kind of outrageous growth spurt.  If somebody picked on him, I kind of just figured I’d handle it.  Nip it in the bud.  He’d never have to worry about being hurt, really, because I could easily protect him.

    I expected that he might run into another Wreck It Raph some day.  That he might come to me with a busted lip or bruises from a scuffle.

    Not this.  Not that thing on his neck.

    A bite mark.

    After some tense moments, I finally turned to look at him. I stared at his neck blankly as he read his manga, shoulders tensed.  I could see the teeth marks at his throat.  Teeth marks.

    “What?” he finally asked.  I narrowed my eyes, reaching out to touch the mark and he flinched, pulling up the collar of his sweater.  “Stop, Theo.”

    “He bit you,” I growled, meeting his gaze.

    “It’s none of your bus—“

    “Is he hurting you?” I asked, glaring at him.  “Is he putting you up to this?”

    His dark eyes widened.  “What?”

    “Like blackmailing you.  There’s no way that felt good.  Do you need me to beat him up, Phil?”

    “Theo, no—“

    “I’ll beat him up,” I promised.  I might even if he didn’t ask.  Reaching out, I tried to touch the mark again, to gauge how deep the injury was.

    He slapped my hand away.  “Why are you being like this?”

    “Why is he biting you?” I shot back, glaring.  “That’s not norm—“

    “Stop using the word normal!” he exploded, bearing his teeth at me.  “You don’t know the first thing about me and Harrison!  Just mind your own business!”  It was the angriest I’d ever seen Phil and I found myself pinching my lips together, looking him over.  He’d grown but I had him beat, standing a good six inches over him.  All I ever do is work out and wrestle around with the guys—my body is much larger than Phil’s in all aspects, greater muscle tone.  He really shouldn’t be getting in my face like this, I found myself thinking.  Then I realized he was probably the only one who could without me automatically swinging at him.

    I exhaled, trying to calm down.  If I lost it, he’d lose it, and I didn’t want to fight with him.

    “So, I don’t know about you and Harrison.  Why don’t you tell me?” I c****d my head to the side, looking him over speculatively.

    His jaw ticked.  “Why?”

    “Why not?”

    All that rage seemed to dissipate, shock filling his expression.  “Why would you want to know about . . . that?  It’s just physical.  We’re friends.”

    “Friends with benefits?” I wondered.  He nodded, pulling his knees to his chest.  The movement made his collar drop again and I could see the top of the bite.  Red and angry looking.  “Is he . . . rough with you?”

    “I’m not a girl,” he muttered, glaring up at me.

    Yeah, Phil is a guy.  Even if he’s kind of petite, he’s still male.  He was wearing joggers so I couldn’t see his legs but I knew there would be hair there.  And his arms if he wasn’t wearing long sleeves.  Glancing down at his crotch, I knew I’d see a bulge.  Smaller but still.  He had all the guy equipment.  “What does that mean?” I wondered.  “All guys like it rough?”

    Phil’s face was red again.  “Let’s stop talk—“

    “You like it when he bites you?”  I licked my lips, watching him shrink.  He looked embarrassed.  Mortified even.  “Are you a masochist?”

    “Why do you keep asking—“

    “How far have you gone?” I cut in, curious.  More than that, I felt . . . bothered.  This whole situation with Harrison the Hoe seemed wrong.  Bad.

    He pressed his face to his knees.  “Why?”

    “Tania and I just make out sometimes.  I don’t mark her up or anything.  We don’t want our parents to find out.”  I bit my lip.  “I mean, we’ve rubbed.  Over clothes.”

    Phil chuckled.  “I have you beat then.”

    “Yeah?” I wondered.  I tried to picture what that would mean, exactly.

    “We touch,” he muttered.

    I swallowed, nodding my head.  I knew that.  “Where?”

    His toes curled in his socks, digging into the bedding.  I could literally feel his anxiety over having this discussion but I didn’t let up, staring at him seriously.  “Everywhere?”

    Why did it come out like a question?  “Is that n—“

    “Oh my God, if you say the word ‘normal’ one more time—“

    “I’m just curious, like, how it works.”

    “Then watch some gay porn,” he muttered, hugging his legs.

    Porn.  “You watch it?” I wondered.  He didn’t say anything which was answer enough.  “Phil the good little church boy watches gay—“

    “Are you done?  Are you just trying to make fun of me?” he snapped, glaring up at me.  Yeesh, so defensive.  It was then that I realized he had tears in his eyes.  He was upset.  Like, really upset.

    “Why Harrison?” I pressed because that was the hardest part for me to understand.  Why him?

    “We’re both interested in . . . you know.  Why wouldn’t we be together?”

    “So you’re together now?”

    “You know what I mean,” he muttered.

    “There’s probably other gay guys in our school.”

    “Name one,” he challenged.

    I pursed my lips.  Then with a smirk, “I could name two.”

    “Other than me and Harrison,” he said, rolling his eyes.

    “Other schools then,” I insisted.  There were other, better options. I was sure of it.

    “Why can’t you just be happy for me?” he asked, giving me a hard look.  “Are you sure you mind Harrison as a person or is it just the fact that he’s male?”

    I blanched at the accusation.  “I’m not a homophobe.”

    “You’re kind of acting like one,” he snapped.

    “I don’t care about your s****l preference, Phil.”

    “No, you just care about who I sleep with,” Phil grumbled.  “It’s none of your business.  Go spend some time with Tania, Theo.  Isn’t she back from her trip yet?”

    Sleep with?  What so he’s sleeping with Harrison now?  I grit my teeth, trying to picture that, to understand why he would want to do that with him.  With a guy like Harrison who left marks like that on him.  Hurt him like that.  “Do you like him?”

    “We’re friends,” Phil insisted.

    “Shouldn’t you do that with somebody you like?” I pushed.

    “Do you like Tania?”

    I shrugged.  Hadn’t really thought about it too much.  “I guess.”

    Phil shrugged.  “I guess I like Harrison, too.”

    This was such a pointless conversation and obviously he’d doing a good job pointing out that I’m a bit of a hypocrite here.  I was dating my lifelong crush’s best friend so maybe I wasn’t in a position to tell him what’s what when it comes to relationships, huh?

    “I would never bite Tania.  Not like that,” I said, trying to argue from a different angle.  “I wouldn’t hurt her.”

    “He’s not . . . abusive.”

    “Isn’t he?”  I narrowed my eyes, reading his expression, his body language.

    Phil’s body spoke volumes.  Pressing his hand over his neck, covering the mark, his dark eyes finally met mine, frowning.  “I liked it.”

    I blinked, trying to process that.  “What?”

    “I liked it.  Now stop talking about it.  It’s . . . embarrassing.”

    What?  My mouth dropped and he went back to reading his manga, ignoring me.  Wait—I mean, that can’t be true.  It’s Phil.  Church boy Phil.  He wouldn’t look at me even as I stared incredulously, at a loss of words.  I’d known this kid for two years.  He slept over my house or vice versa all the time.  We shared everything, I’d thought.  For the most part, anyway.  How could I have missed that he was gay?  That he was more experienced than me?  That he was . . . kind of kinky?  Who the hell is this guy?

    Turning forward, I wondered how the hell I was supposed to act after this?