2. POEM

He lived in a row house. I parked my car in front of his door. I sighed as the buckets and buckets of rain washed over my car.

It would only be two seconds in the rain but still. Just the thought made me grumpy. Where was the sun?

So as it turns out Benjamin had just been overreacting. His eye was totally fine! I thankfully got off with a warning. Benjamin had begged them not to call his parents and he insisted on not filing an official complaint. He wanted to fit in I guess.

I rushed out of my car and ran under the shelter of Timothy's roof. There was a bell and a golden knocker held by a gargoyle. I looked around and realized the fence was also guarded by gargoyles. I shook my head and rang the bell.

Shortly after the door swung open.

Jesus Christ, it had only been two days! And already his hair was a different color! In addition to his blonde locks he now also had blood-red highlights in his hair. He wore a matching red-black striped vest and unlike last time it was TIGHT. Almost as tight as his fucking pants. What was with this guy? He also wore messy black polish on his nails and one of his All Star sneakers had a red lace instead of a black one.

"Hi." He smiled brightly. I was sure his boyfriend had just finished fucking him.

"Let's just get this over with." I grumbled as I brushed past him.

The hallway had black and white checkered flooring and deep purple walls.

I walked into the living room and noticed a similar color scheme. Who in their right mind did this?!

"Did you decorate in here?"

"Yeah."

I sighed and shook my head. His parents were probably as fucking weird as him.

"Alright I'm heading out." A short, bald, fat man came in. "Ah! You must be Josh!" He stuck out his hand. He was normal. No gayliner, no super tight black clothes. Just a regular dude. I sighed of relief.

"Yes. It's nice to meet you, sir." I said politely.

"I'm Tim's dad. I'm going to work. I should be back pretty soon since I'm just filling in while Kane picks up his kids. I'll bring you guys home a nice big steak... You eat meat, don't you?"

"Of course!" I was already looking forward to it.

"Good! The last guy that came over.."

"Dad.." Timothy protested.

"What?! What kind of man doesn't eat meat?! And no milk, no cheese..." The man grumbled as he went into the hallway. He grabbed his umbrella. "Uh.. oh! You can call me Joe! Call me if you two need anything. Tim has my number. Goodbye now!"

"Bye." I chuckled.

"Bye dad." Timothy went into the kitchen.

His dad was okay. He seemed nice enough. A bit of a cook maybe but at least he wasn't a fag. I followed Timothy into the kitchen and gritted my teeth.

Red, white and black. I nearly slammed my head into the wall.

"Do you want a drink?" Timothy asked as he rummaged through the fridge.

"Coke."

Timothy grabbed two red cans and handed me one.

I opened it and followed after him. We walked up the (surprise, surprise) black stairs. The hallway upstairs was green and black. I rolled my eyes. "Did you design the whole house?!"

"Yeah. Do you like it?"

"No! How did your dad ever agree to this!"

Timothy smirked. "Well, he said I could do whatever I wanted so long as I stayed off his room."

"Pfft. I would never."

Timothy opened a white door and it led to his bedroom.

It was completely white unlike any other room in the house. I had not seen this coming. There were posters all over the walls and the floor was shiny like in a fancy perfume store.

Bitch boy grabbed his white laptop and sat on the bed. It had checkered sheets.

I sat next to him, at the farthest corner possible.

"So, we're both supposed to pick three of our favorite poems and explain what we like about them, what kind of rhythms the writer's using and the metaphors and stuff. And then we each have to comment on each other's poems as well. Have you picked yours yet?"

This was all news to me. I had no clue.

"No."

"Figured as much."

I rolled my eyes. "Alright, let's hear one of yours then."

"Okay." Timothy grabbed a notebook from his desk. He lay on his side and began to read.

"As often-times the too resplendent sun

Hurries the pallid and reluctant moon

Back to her sombre cave, ere she hath won

A single ballad from the nightingale,

So doth thy Beauty make my lips to fail,

And all my sweetest singing out of tune."

As he began to read I noticed the musicality in his soft voice. His voice was clear, but not loud, not harsh. Listening to it brought me a strange sense of comfort.

Every so often he'd look up from his paper, shyly glance into my eyes and back to the paper.

I was on the edge of my seat, ready for more when he suddenly stopped.

"Go on." I commanded.

"That was it."

"What? Why does it end so abruptly?"

"It doesn't! Were you even listening?"

"Yes!"

"Any idea what it's about?"

I searched my memory. Blank. Nothing. All I noticed was that he had a nice voice.

"Sing- I mean, read it again."

Timothy sighed but began reading anyway. As I was hypnotized by his relaxing voice again, I was distracted by something entirely different this time. As he rolled to lay on his stomach my eyes wandered to his pants. They hugged his butt perfectly. His ass was like, divine or something. Perfect size, I was sure it was soft like the rest of his skin looked. His tight vest exposed his lower back. I found myself wondering what he looked like without a shirt on. I could tell he had a nice physique. His waist was small, almost like a girl. Dammit, what was wrong with me?

His hair covered his eyes. His red lips teased me as he read the poem. They were small but plump. I just knew he was a good kisser.

I felt myself grow frustrated. How could this guy just do that? Make me think about another dude like that! It was the fucking make up and the whole fag act! This was his fault!

Soon enough, I realized it wasn't just my eyes that had been responding to him. So had my dick. I was rock hard.

"And I to nurse the barren memory of un-kissed kisses, and songs never sung." Timothy looked into my eyes again. It didn't help my situation.

"Are.. are you okay?"

"Shut up! I'm just going to take a leak!" I covered my dick with my shirt and swiftly, smoothly walked out of the room.

I closed the bathroom door with a sigh. Fucking hell! What was going on?!

Stop it! Stop it! I screamed at myself in my head. I smacked myself hard across the face. I thought of my favorite boner-killers. They usually worked. Now not so much.

"What the fuck!!" I whispered.

It was the surprise of it all. Me, a straight man getting turned on from a faggot in eyeliner. Of course this was perfect fuel for my mini me. It was like that time I had a wet dream about Jennifer in a tree costume. It was too ridiculous not to get turned on!

"Will you.... shave my bark for me?" She had asked suggestively.

"No! Shit!" I yelled. Like thinking about that would help!

I suddenly heard the doorbell ring. The shock and horror nearly sent me to my grave! Oh no! Timothy's dad was back! Imagine if that big man knew what I was doing over here. Swinging my ding-dong around in his son's bathroom!

The thought nauseated me so much that I could feel my boner go down. I sighed of relief and pictured Timothy's dad rolling around in dirt for the full effect. Soon enough I was as soft as a rubber band.

I stared at myself in the mirror and wondered what in the hell had gotten into me!

My gray eyes looked disturbed, my usually tan skin, pale, sick! My normally legendary blonde hair... well, it was still legendary, come on, but... something was massively wrong here. I ran my hands through my buzz cut a few times.

You're still you. It's that fag's fault. I told myself. I took a deep breath.

When I was out of the woods I opened the door. Timothy wasn't in his bedroom anymore.

I heard talking from the hallway downstairs. A male voice, a little deeper than Timothy's but it wasn't his dad.

I walked down the hallway and peeped at the door from the top of the stairs.

"Oh, come on! You said your dad wasn't around." Timothy's boyfriend caressed his cheek.

Of course it was him. I'm gonna get sick.

"Yes, but I told you I have a classmate over for an assignment."

"So what? You can ditch him." He whispered in Timothy's ear. He had to bend down about ten feet to do it.

He had an accent. Was he English or Scottish or some shit?

"Char.." Timothy protested weakly.

"What?" The giant leaned forward, a suggestive smile on his lips. He pulled Timothy against him.

I felt myself getting sick already. I wasn't going to watch this.

I looked away as anger coursed through my veins. This was fucking disgusting. How could they do this here with me in the house? They were shameless and repulsive.

I slowly looked back at them as curiosity took over. Damn, they were practically eating each other's faces. I don't know why but I was surprised to see Timothy like this. He seemed so innocent. Quiet.

It's always the fucking quiet ones.

Timothy's giant boyfriend placed his giant hand on his ass. That really hit a nerve for me. I couldn't just watch anymore.

"Hey!" I yelled, walking down the stairs.