Swollen Heads & High School Boys

Memories

PRESENT DAY

"Hey bro... you've got mail?" Christy said as she popped through the front door with a questioning look on her pretty face.

On the envelope, in a rather suave handwriting was my name, Bryan Ryder. Equaling her confused expression myself, I opened it, quickly scanning over it's contents.

"Well what do you know? Alas, the time has finally come," I said recognizing the name of the sender. I was... relieved, I must admit. That 3am dream must have been really strong to summon his presence, I mused to myself. It was the witching hour, after all. "Scott Dawson. Student Council President 2009."

"How did he find our address? We moved about seven years ago right?" I heard Jesse, my brother and Christy's twin, say from the kitchen.

I scoffed lightly as I looked over the invitation. "Scotty has this habit of getting what he wants," I said more to myself than to Jesse.

"Scotty? From your old high school in Texas? Isn't he that delinquent looking dude you spent your detentions with?" he asked coming out of the kitchen munching on a sandwich. Scotty would pale, if he heard someone refer to him as a delinquent, I thought chuckling to myself. "The reunion huh?" he mulled over with a grin.

Eyeing him suspiciously, I mimicked him sarcastically before asking, "What's with you brat?"

"You're getting old, big brother. You might as well reconnect with an old high school crush," he said giggling behind the counter.

"Tch... I don't want to hear that from a silly sixteen year old virgin," I said getting up and stealing the rest of his sandwich in mid-bite. Christy begun snickering in a corner.

"V-virgin?!" he stammered indignantly with embarrassed pink cheeks. He was so easy to tease. "Whatever," he huffed and ran up to his room. "I take it back, I hope no one remembers you!"

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7 YEARS AGO

I was going through the regular teenage s**t.

My dad had just sent me to this Private School in the middle of nowhere. It was imposingly in Texas, and I expected to see cowboys and guns and the like, but no, I was sent to this reform/prison compound corroded by hardcore Catholics type of boarding school for young men. Why was I sent here?

My strict, homophobic father sent me here because he had caught a guy kissing me. It was by shear accident too, because I never he liked me. Even though I didn't return his affections, I lost it when my Dad begun hitting the guy.

Out of fury, I said I was gay too -but I wasn't. Just getting under his greasy skin was enough to make me feel good. I had left my twin siblings behind to be 'cured' by this institute because Mr. Ryder thought that his son was sick.

Actually, I hadn't even thought much about the whole reason I was sent there. I just hated my Dad so much. My anger problems were one thing, but I just had a whole lot of issues with authority. It wasn't as if I was actually gay, right?

***

"One person has accused me and you're just going to believe them! You rich kids sure feel like you're hot s**t, dontcha?" I remember arguing. Scott Dawson's face wore his ever-so-present strict President expression. Any more uptight, and he'd be a fat man's belt.

I hated spending my one hour after-school detentions in the student council office. It was BO-RING, and with captain Do-Gooder here, properly sucking the fun out of anything that might seem remotely interesting, there was nothing interesting to do.

Let's just say it wasn't my favorite time of the day.

"Don't give me that Ryder! Why are you so hotheaded? If you weren't so damn smart... you'd already been kicked out," Scott scolded while leaning on his desk, in front of the chair I sat in. I didn't retort because admittedly, it was half true. Even I would've kicked me out, no matter how smart and athletic I was.

He gave a loud sigh as he massaged his temples. He looked stressed; his brown eyes, tired. You could say, my guilty conscience started to kick in. Scotty was nice guy. He really was despite that stoic and plain personality of his. He said in a matter-of-fact tone, "You do know that we have a camera in the storage room so that no one steals our supplies. Everyone's seen your..." he waved his right hand in front of him trying to find a word, "... session."

He's got to be kidding, right? I groan outwardly."Private Schools. The only place I know puts a camera in the storage room."

"Ryder! I'm being serious here," Scott added furiously . "You we're caught having s-s*x in the storage room. Really? You really couldn't find anyway where else, like, I don't know, behind the bleachers or something? You should do something about that impulsiveness of yours!"

Behind the bleachers huh? "Didn't know you knew about our famous hook-up spot, " I chuckled wearing a faint smile. I saw him tense, and almost immediately, he shrugged it off, but his pink tainting ears were giving him away.

I don't know what possessed me to want to tease him. His face looked really different with reddening cheeks. I found it strangely alluring. "You know, oh President of mine, I wonder, were you checking me out in that video?" I replied with a sheepish grin, lightly trying to poke a joke at him. His blush spread from his ears to the back of his neck. He looked like a cornered animal. Straightening himself from his desk, he rolled his eyes and went to sit down across from me behind his desk.

"You can leave," he said in a dismissing tone, completely ignoring my question.

My bravado left me as I blanched for a minute. He didn't even deny it. Scott was just you're normal prude. The fact that I found his blushing face really cute, really caught me off guard me.

I'm confident enough, to admit when a guy is truly handsome, and he was in that level; heck, he can even be considered pretty, with his thin frame, soft features and gracefully long fingers. I couldn't imagine him with any girls, getting all hot and steamy under the sheets in nerd-land somewhere.

I sat there. "Scotty, I don't know, but you're... sort of, looking really cute right now."

He glared at me with his wavering eyes, his prude mask sliding on, "Don't call me that. The mistakes you do serves as a lesson, whether you want to learn from it or not, is up to you, Ryder." Getting up, he patted invisible dust off himself, and headed towards the door. He stood by it and lifted an expectant brow, waiting for me to get up and head out.

Any sign of his earlier embarrassment had long been eradicated from his expression.

To be honest, I felt the need to just mess with him. I wanted to make him loose that composed calmness that he possessed. It pissed me off. I walked up to him with purpose before he had a chance to open the door to the hallway. I gripped his wrists, forcing them to his sides. His eyes widen and an inaudible gasp escaped from his parted lips. A flash of uncertainty, and curiosity darted across his face, or maybe it was just my imagination.

What made me hesitate, was a look that I'd never seen before on him. It was as if he was challenging me to do whatever I wanted with the used of just his eyes; eyes that held dark, but fiery layers of himself that burnt like hot lava. "Are you batting for you own team, President? 'Cause if I didn't know you any better, I'd say you want me to do this?" I stated, flashing a wicked smile, roughly pinning his wrists above his head, and watched his breath hitched. I loosen my grip, and trailed my fingers lightly down his arm, and it warmed me how goosebumps seemed to rise on the flesh that I caressed.

His face turned from shock, to another unknown expression, I'd heard a lot from him in the four years I went to that Private school, but his sudden change of demeanor had caught my full attention. "Who said you knew me at all?... So what's your next move Bryan? or were you just gonna keep feeling me up?" the President said with a small mocking smile playing on his lips. Hearing my first name, which he rarely even used, coming from his mouth made my pulse race.

I faltered. I knew he saw me falter too, his eyes spoke volumes. Why did I had the urge to mess with him? Maybe it was because he represented the authority I so despise. And me, being the me I was, I wanted to f**k authority.

In that instant, Scott knew that I hadn't thought this through. It was a spur of the moment kind of thing. An embarrassment caused by my own impulsiveness.

"So tall," he frowns, "and indecisive." With that, his hand broke free from my grip and pulled me down using the collar of my uniform shirt, into a soul scorching kiss. His red lips opened up hungrily and took advantage of my gasp at the electrifying touch of his lips, to snake his tongue inside my mouth. His teeth grazed my lips, lightly suckling and nibbling. Maybe it was the taboo of kissing another guy that had me reeling.

I don't even remember how long we were making out for, my mind was on cloud nine. I hadn't even realized that I had pushed him up against the wall, crushing him with my body. His hands had tangled in my hair, as my own was trying to pull him even closer to my body. His moans had my mouth watering to do more, lick more, make him moan more. The rougher I was, the sweeter his whimpers would get. The ringing of my name being moan out through his lips, traveled straight down to my groin. I felt the need to hold on to my scattering senses with my dare life.

As sudden as the contact was, I had to end it. It was too much; it felt too dangerous to continue. Honestly speaking, I got spooked by how turned on I was. I mean, I had always thought I was straight. A straight guy, can't get hard-which I was, and painfully too, might I add-for another guy, right? My pulse felt like it was running a marathon, and my chest felt constricted of air. I pulled away forcefully, backing away as far as I possibly could from him.

My brain had long stop functioning and by the looks of it, his wasn't either. His eyes were dazed, accompanied with red and swollen lips, and flushed cheeks. His hair was disheveled, and his neat iron pressed uniform was wrinkled at his slim waist.

He leaned against the wall as if not trusting the strength in his legs to keep him up. It made him look so sexy that even my throat dried up. I had to take two more steps back, in case I attacked him like a starving lion. All that, yet he wore the most s**t-eating smug look on his face. As if waiting to see what I would do. Challenging me ever so slightly, to choose what to do next. It was as if his glazed over eyes were stripping layers of inhibition from me.

He didn't seem like the usual President Scott Dawson. He looked like a seductive creature waiting to willingly be serviced and eaten. No, it was as if he didn't mind being ravished right then and there. The look made me shudder to my very core. What the hell had he unlocked in me? Or had it always been there, and I just did not see.

Suddenly, I see him unbuckling his belt, and unbuttoning his pants. I guess, I paled because he gave me a look and tried to stifle a laugh. Yet he said nothing. Still watching him undo his zipper, I realized, he was tucking his shirt back into place, and not taking off his pants. He schooled back his controlled composure and looked at me while giving me a smirk. "I won't be giving you a Hall-Pass. If a teacher catches you here after school hours, you'll get more detention time. So, get home."

"What?!" so much for sexy Scotty. Now I was back to facing President Scott. His sudden personality change almost gave me a whiplash.

In my utter confusion, he started to head out first before turning around and added, with a little attitude nonetheless, "Unless you actually want to spend detention with me again, since I'm not totally against it."

Honestly, after that occurrence my psyche was forever switched. I found myself hooked to the enigma that was Scott Dawson. Every day we'd find somewhere new to make out. He would leave little notes in my locker telling me where I should meet him. It went on for the entire senior year. I learnt to understand some of his expressions like the 'I dare you' stare, the 'follow me' nod, and the 'I want it now' smile. Everyday the physical need for more of him grew stronger and stronger, that it was unbearable.

Soon we progress, from watching each other masturbate, to m**********g each other. It felt amazing how he would sag against me when he was too weak to hold himself up. His neck proved to have most of his sensitive spots. His skin would prickle when I would run my tongue along his n*****s watching them bud in excitement. He would purr my name in my ear, as I shuddered and released into his hand, his wild eyes never leaving my twitching member. He was so lewd and sexy that no matter how much time I touched and tasted him, it was never enough.

Sometimes, he would c*m without touching himself as sucked on me and swallowed my spunk. His mouth, always hungry, left kiss marks unconsciously on my chest, as his eager hands always found a way to inched up my shirt. I had ripped open two of his uniform shirts on accident, and had to buy it back for him. He bitched about his ripped uniform, but if he only knew how turned on he would get when I did it. I mean, judging from the scratch marks on my back, I don't think he quiet noticed.

I learnt how bad his attitude really was. So unlike the calm, and cool-headed person he displayed at school. I knew he disliked what he called his 'unmanly' features and his height. He ate too much junk food for his own good, and actually had 3 packs of Twinkies under his desk for whenever he felt peckish; countless M&M's, Mini-Snickers, Milkyways, and mints also aligned his pockets. He was a walking candy shop. Yet his teeth were perfect with no signs of cavities. He was demanding, and sometimes selfish.

After seeing so many of his traits, even the bad ones, more than anything, he was lustful. Everything he did, exuded s*x appeal. He was not shy at all when it came to intimacy between us. He was always ready, willing and even begged at times for my fingers to be inside him. My own thrill was to see him, begging to be pleased by me, saying my name all slurred-like. His hot mouth, always eager to melt my hard member in all different ways imaginable, along with that wicked tongue that seemed to know all my weaknesses.

The desire was obsessive, damn near compulsive. We could not keep our hands off of one another, our passion scorching hot like fire, as the flames of our uncontrollable male hormones scalded welts unto our unready youthful hearts. The intoxicating smell of his scent at the point ecstasy mixing with my own was an addictive perfume to my senses that would sent me over the edge to my own earth-shattering release.

To say I was drowning in him, would be putting it lightly.

I didn't know how close we had migrated to each other, until people started saying things like: 'If I find you, I know the President must be close', 'You're friends with the Prez, try get me out of detention' or 'So is the President you're babysitter now?' Even girls had started approaching me asking me, if Scotty had a girlfriend. Of course, the answer to that was a no.

He would always turn them down with that do-gooder smile of his. Being that the case, these girls would confess to him on a day to day basis and what's worst, it annoyed the f**k out of me. Soon, because of him constantly turning them down, a rumor started around saying he was gay.

He kept his head held high, and ignored it, but I knew better. Those eyes that I had come to learn to read, were not happy at all. They were breaking. I wanted to do anything to comfort him. The mere thought of that was a reality check to me. Aren't I suppose to be straight? Any straight guy would stay far so not to be called gay, but in my case, I was worried for him.

Scott barely, if never, showed his weaknesses. That's just the person he was. He would probably always be that way but I wanted to help him.

"You know, you should say something about it!" I stated angrily, on that damning day.

We were up on the roof top and I was angrily trying to let of some steam. I had just broken a guy's nose for saying gay slurs in front me about Scott. "I would hate to be called gay and made fun of," I exclaimed with venom and punching the wall next to me. As upset as I was, I failed to realized what I had said and was too late to take it back even though I wanted to. "Shit... I-I didn't mean it that way..." instantly regretting my choice of words. Even if his face was blank of any emotion, I knew I had hurt Scott ignorantly.

"I am," he said quietly only meant for my ears, "I knew you weren't, but I always knew I was. Gay, that is." He didn't need to explain it but I left him to. There was a long pause as the wind picked up strands of his hair whisking it in its rhythm. "I can't say anything to them without denying or confirming it. So, I will just wordlessly ignore their insults based on their speculations. It would hurt more if they knew for sure that I was gay and I refuse to deny myself any more than I have to."

"Listen, Scott, I didn't mean what I just said. Its not that I would hate being called gay, I just hate them making fun of y-..."

"Bryan, you don't need to do this. You don't have to go through all this...stigma," he said interrupting me and waving his hands in front of him as if trying to actually show me something tangible. "I think I'm starting to develop feelings for you," he clarified weakly. "A-and I don't believe you're ready for something like this," he quickly added as if I was about to say something.

It shook me to my core. That was the first time, if ever, I heard his voice actually waver. I froze in place not knowing what to say. The horizon seemed to carelessly be preparing for the setting of the sun. It felt like it was singing me a farewell song. It didn't sit well with me, aren't Sunsets suppose to be beautiful? Somehow, it felt painful to watch on that day.

"I doubt you've noticed, since you're as thickheaded as a rock...," a sad smile appeared on his lips. One that cut through me, more than the pain in my knuckles after punching the wall and a person. "... but I've come to like you" he started slowly, nervously cupping his hands together. "As in, I really like you, in like, a boyfriend kind of way," he said clearing his throat, as the tip of his ears flashed red. "Gay-shaming will eventually reach to you if you continue hanging around with me. That's just the way society is. I can't describe the relationship we've had up to today. You'll probably end up forgetting me before our first Class Reunion. The best thing to do right now, is to end whatever it is that we have before you regret it."

I looked at the sun. The setting colors were as breathtaking as Scott's current vulnerable state. Does he really like me in that way? My insides were fluttering for some weird reasons, and my throat felt clogged. I couldn't answer his confession due to my own uncertainties. I didn't know how to respond. I was speechless.

I knelt down and pinched his red rosy cheeks, and gave him an awkward hug of comfort, feeling him sigh in my arms. All his guards were finally down, and before me he was just a seventeen year old guy, not a President, not a s*x god, or anything else, just a normal regular guy. He accepted my hug with shaky arms. It confirmed how insecure he felt about the situation, and that made me hugged him even tighter, willing him to feel the warmth he himself, made me feel.

Without letting him go, I whispered, "if it makes you feel any better, that was the first confession I've gotten... ever." He looked up into my face, no doubt searching to see if I was telling the truth. I could see unshed tears at the edge of his eyes. Feeling myself actually blush, I looked away. I tried to say to exactly what was on my mind, though my words keep stumbling with each other. "I might not be able to answer you're feelings now, because I don't know how to; but don't you dare forget me. Reunion or not, I know, I won't be able to forget you for as long as live. I have no regrets ever being with you. Give me some time, I promise, I will come to you, okay?"

He blinked the unshed tears from his eyes, and breathed in a shaky breath. "You're so sappy that it's painful," he said laughing quietly to himself, while lightly punching me on the shoulder, "and your corniness is equally so," he added embarrassed as he scrambled to his feet. Stretching out his thin limbs, he breathed more to himself than me,"but someday, I guess," and looked away with sad eyes.

He had headed down the staircase first. I realized that he didn't want to say goodbye, he was waiting for me to do so. Little did he know, that I refused to as well. The most gut-wrenching part was knowing that, as beautiful as that sunset was, it couldn't make his farewell hurt any less than it did. Instead, it only increased that agonizing dull ache in my chest.

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PRESENT DAY

After graduation, I got a scholarship and moved there to continue my degree. Disaster happened when my Mom ended up passing away. Unfortunately, Mom had a weak constitution. I ended up moving even further away to take care of my younger siblings. If my brother hadn't contacted me, I wouldn't even have known that Dad had abandoned them. Even then, I never forgot about Scott. I tried contacting him once, but his brother, Roman, answered the phone.

How cunning of him? Still as selfish as ever Scotty.

Looking at the invitation in my hand, I shook my head. He waited till the very last day to send it. He wanted to give me a chance to back out. Damn it, a promise is a promise, you prune! One that fully intended to keep. I was prepared this time. No regrets since day one.

As I tried to get comfortable inside the plane. The stewardess proceeded with the run-down of the safety and regulations in case of emergency, but everything she said fell on deaf ears.

I'm ready for any one of your retorts and excuses Scott Dawson. I've imagined every disastrous scenario that might be plausible to happen and have a response for 3/4 of them. As for the other 1/4, I intend to silence them with my lips.

This time around, I will not falter nor I will waver. He will be mine, and I hope he'll take me as his, so that we can both finally enjoy that blasted Sunset again.