note: i write best/most when i have no internet. thus all the updates. this idea was born of a twisted fantasy i nurtured for about a month.

Chester is bored out of his fucking mind. And a little bit annoyed. He just moved here from Phoenix a few days ago, and in attempt to actually be social, he agreed to go to the mall after school with some guys from his math class. Bad choice.

All they’re doing is looking at sports magazines and scouting the girls with the shortest skirts. They tell stupid jokes and laugh like idiots whenever anyone says anything.

He’s ignoring them right now, chipping at the black polish adorning his fingernails with extreme boredom. He’s really just waiting for the anti-queer comments to show up. At least then he’ll have an exciting exit. And then these morons can out him to the entire school and he won’t have to do it himself. Then the man of his dreams will show up, having heard about him through the grapevine, and carry him off into the sunset.

Or maybe he’ll just get the shit kicked out of him. Whichever.

Chester is just in the middle of wishing his phone would ring so he could make up an excuse to leave, when his cue arrives.

“Can you believe that shit? What a queer!” One of the idiots laughs, gesturing to a guy holding several pink and bright purple shopping bags and following an attractive girl who is holding her hands out, nails splayed as if they were wet. Everything in their demeanor and body language says that this guy is at most carrying his girlfriend’s bags because her nails are wet. And that qualifies him as queer? It’s definitely time for Chester to go.

Chester gives the boy a glare, mumbling something about needing to get home soon. He leaves, not even bothering to wave at them. He walks back the way they came, pretty sure the nearest exit would get him home fastest, when he sees it.

It is a skirt, and it’s fucking perfect. It’s black and medium length, with a lace outer layer that flairs out just a little. At that exact moment, the mannequin wearing the skirt twirls in the display window and winks at Chester before returning to its original stoic position. And yes, stoic is the word. Completely indifferent to Chester’s suffering of not being that mannequin.

Then he catches himself. He’s a boy, and boys don’t wear skirts. He sighs and forcefully tears his eyes away, vowing never to enter that store, because he would not be able to contain himself. But the skirt won’t leave his mind for the rest of his journey home.

//

“So, how was it?” Tara Bennington questions as soon as her son steps in the door.

“It blew,” Chester replies, wanting a hug but not willing to ask for one.

Tara hugs her son and he pretends not to like it but they both know how much he loves the affection. “What happened, honey?” She leads the way into the kitchen, where she had apparently been in the middle of the sandwich.

Chester begins to make his own snack as he tells his mom why those kids suck so much.

“I’m sorry to hear that sweetheart. I’m sure you’ll meet some better friends here soon,” she smiles, patting his hand.

He shakes his head. “Maybe I’m not the type that’s meant to have good friends.”

Tara’s lips draw together in a way that means Chester has said something to upset her.

“…But I guess I’ll never know until I try.” He fakes a smile to the best of his ability, and he’s sure it’s convincing because she just nods.

They enjoy their sandwiches in silence until Tara asks, “So did you see anything you liked at the mall? Any cute outfits?”

Chester shakes his head, knowing what’s next.

“Any cute boys?”

Chester sighs. “No.” It’s not awkward for him, and it never has been between the two of them. But in Phoenix, this was not kitchen table discussion. It was conversation that need be spoken in low tones, behind closed doors, lest John Bennington overhear. And no one wanted that.

In the end, it wasn’t the whispering that was the reason that they divorced, but it certainly played a part. Tara is not a whisperer, especially when it comes to things that she shouldn’t have to whisper. “Well, I saw one.”

He eyes his grinning mother. Great, now she’s going to try and set him up with some random guy.

“He lives next door. We should go introduce ourselves to our new neighbors, don’t you think?” Her eyes take on a conspiring light.

Chester can’t help but smile back. He loves his mom. “Okay. But we’re not going to be all obvious about it, alright?”

“Of course not!”

//

The next day, Chester’s sweating and it’s gross. He stinks but it’s so hot that even if he showers, in a few hours he’ll smell just like this. He’s lounging around, draped across the couch in his bedroom in just his underwear, flipping the channels of the television in the hopes of finding something good to watch.

Tara knocks and opens his door, poking her head inside. “Don’t you want to go outside?”

“In this weather?” He gives her a look that says, ‘bitch, please.’ Sure, it was hotter in Arizona. But hell, he drove from his air-conditioned house in an air-conditioned car to other places with air conditioning in Arizona. Here, he has no car and the cooling system has yet to be installed and he sure as hell has nowhere air-conditioned to go.

She sighs. “You’re right. It’s everso hot out there. Who would go out in this weather? Someone would have to be crazy to be in their front yard right now, mowing the lawn shirtless at a time like this.”

Chester mutes the television and hears the roar of a lawn mower outside.

Fifteen minutes later, he’s heading out the front door with a glass of ice-cold lemonade in hand after the fastest shower of this life. “Hey!” Chester calls out to the shirtless boy in the next yard as he walks towards him, letting his eyes casually drift over the sculpted torso and up to his face. He avoids staring too hard at the jeans that could stand to be just a bit tighter, but he still looks to see if there are any inconsistencies in the fabric, and finds a pretty good outline of the other boy’s package. He tries not to pay attention to the way the dark brown hair on the boy’s stomach seemed to quite literally pull Chester’s eyes downward.

The boy looks up, turning the mower off and smiling. “Hey. How’s it goin?”

Chester smiles back. “Hot. I figured I’d be a good neighbor and bring you something refreshing to drink, before I lounge on my front porch and watch you continue your yardwork.”

He laughs. Chester loves the sound. “I’d figured you’d be used to hotter weather than this.” He wipes his hands on his well-worn light blue jeans and takes the glass from Chester. “And how very sweet of you. Should I worry that it might be poisoned?”

“Robert!” He gives an exaggerated gasp. “How on earth would I find entertainment in this dull town if it weren’t for you and your shirtless… ness?”

Rob takes a long sip of the cool liquid before responding with a shrug, “You got me there.”

As he drinks some more of the lemonade, Chester makes note of pretty much everything. The short distance between them, the way that Rob isn’t even bothered by Chester’s obvious flirting, the tiny sweat droplets traveling down Rob’s upper body every so often, Rob’s silence as he enjoys his drink. “Are you always this quiet?” Chester asks with a small smile.

“Are you always this flirtatious?” He counters, smirking.

Chester pretends to be taken aback. “Me? Flirtatious? Never! In fact, I’m offended that you would even think such a thing, let alone say it aloud.” But even as he puts on this façade, he wonders just how okay Rob is with it.

Rob laughs a little, but his dark brown eyes are watching Chester closer now.

“Well, I suppose I’ll let you get back to work then.” Chester tries to give a friendly smile, but he’s sure it’s much closer to a grimace, and begins to walk away. He feels like an idiot.

“But… I’m not done,” Rob calls, sounding confused.

Chester mumbles something about the other boy keeping the glass and goes inside without turning back.

//

On Monday at school, Chester has managed to avoid all of the idiots from the mall on Friday, up until lunch period. He still has no idea where he should go, being that students are allowed to linger pretty much anywhere on campus, and he still has no friends. He goes towards the cafeteria in hopes of finding something edible, though chances of that are slim. He’s halfway there when he runs into one of the kids he is avoiding, Mike.

Mike has wide brown eyes and a grin that was often irritatingly adorable. Mike would probably be very cute if he had a different hairstyle and wardrobe, and Chester would probably adore the sound of his smooth voice if he had anything to say that didn’t make Chester want to kill himself out of boredom or annoyance. A few strands of jet black hair miraculously fall from their overly gelled position behind his ear and into his face.

“Chester,” he says, panting just a little and leading Chester to wonder if this guy had actually run to catch up with him. “I wanted to apologize about Friday afternoon. My friends are idiots.” He does a little twitchy movement with his head unconsciously to get the hair out of his face.

Chester is unyielding. “Your friends? So you’re not then?”

One side of Mike’s mouth draws downward. “No.”

“So why do you hang out with them if you’re really of such superior intellect?” Chester tries not to feel bothered by the slight hurt in the other boy’s eyes.

“They’re not all bad… and I…” He looks to the side for a second and then back to Chester slowly. “I don’t really have anyone else.”

Chester is starting to feel bad now. “I’d rather be alone than hang out with a bunch of assholes from whom I have to hide my true identity,” he says quietly, still feeling guilty, but unable to stop himself from speaking the truth. And he’s hoping he’s not wrong about his assumption that Mike is indeed gay. He thinks back and remembers that Mike had seemed to be looking at him with an admiring eye.

Mike is about to answer, but stops when he sees someone walk up behind Chester and slide an arm around the other boy’s shoulders.

“Hey, Chaz. Come sit with us,” Rob half-says, half-whispers into Chester’s ear.

Mike looks down and away. “I’ll see you in Math,” he mumbles before practically scrambling away.

Chester turns to Rob, confused about several things. Rob’s arm is around him and as much as he loves the attention, he has no idea what it means. Who is ‘us’ and why is Chester invited to sit with them? Polite, shy Rob had just very rudely interrupted his exchange with Mike, and Mike had scampered off like a frightened squirrel. Chester appreciated the interruption, but that didn’t change the fact that Rob had completely switched gears from nice guy to jerk. “Who?” he asks, instead of trying to figure out the other boy’s behaviour.

“My friends.” Rob guides Chester over to an area between two rows of really large trees. The shade is a relief from the heat that isn’t as bad as the previous Saturday, but still annoying enough for Chester to notice. The trees also provide something like privacy from all the watchful eyes of nosy high school students. He points to each of the kids sitting there, saying their names simultaneously. “Brad, Joe, Chris, Ivy, Dave, and Alex. Friends, this is Chester.”

Chester waves and smiles at each of them, feeling extremely out of place. Their conversation continues and Chester has no idea what they’re talking about.

Rob sits down and gestures for Chester to sit next to him. He does.

“Hello! What did I miss?” A girl with a strangely cute accent and a pair of bright pink tights walks up with several greasy brown bags in hand and everyone jumps up to greet her and take food from her.

Alex introduces Chester to Vea as she sits down with her club sandwich, and the conversation continues. After a while, Chester realizes that they are discussing the pros and cons of different sexual positions. He thinks he might like this crowd more than the previous when he hears Chris say, “I may be stating the obvious here, but missionary with legs over the shoulder of the top requires much more flexibility when doing anal,” and Dave and Ivy nod in knowing agreement.

Oh, he definitely prefers these people to Mike and friends.

//

Towards the end of the school day, Chester still isn’t sure what this all means. Does it mean that Rob is okay with his flirting? Does it mean that Rob likes him back? Or does it mean that Rob is not really okay with the flirting, but forgives him anyway? Either way, he’s grateful for being rescued from rambling Mike who was starting to make him feel guilty.

He remembers as he steps into his last class that Mike is indeed in this class and Rob won’t be here to rescue him now. He takes his seat towards the front and hopes that no one will bother him when he feels a light touch tickling the back of his neck. He jumps, shocked that Mike would initiate that sort of touch with him, especially considering their encounter at lunch. But that’s when he turns around to see that it’s not Mike, but a grinning Rob, sitting behind him. “Hi.”

Chester’s mouth opens but at first no words come out. He has too much to ask, and a lot on his mind so he really can’t be blamed that his first question is, “Why is Mike so afraid of you?”

Rob’s expression doesn’t change. “I’ll tell you later. So, how was your day?”

“It was fine. I didn’t know you were in this class?”

“Sometimes I don’t come on Fridays. Friday afternoons aren’t meant to be wasted on theorems and postulates and calculations. They’re for eating ridiculous amounts of junk food and watching dirty movies with your friends.” Rob winks and takes out his notebook and pen.

“How… poetic,” Chester remarks, taking out his own items from his backpack.

“I figured you’d like that.”

And Chester has no idea what that means.

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