Chapter Text
“Anthony! Breakfast!” His mother, Winona called out. He convinced himself to get out of his cozy bed, much too early to be getting up on a Saturday morning. He dragged his limbs around as he rubbed his eyes and walked down the squeaky old stairs. One thing about Anthony, is that he notices everything. He slows down moments as they are still happening, lingers on every word spoken, and reads every little tiny detail. So, unfortunately, the squeak in the stairs bugged him quite a bit due to the fact that he payed far too much attention to it. As he was heading into the kitchen, his eldest sister, Mary crossed paths with him. “Hello, Anthony.” He glanced at her, a bit more disheveled looking than she usually does when she wakes up.
“You look nice.” He smirked in a sarcastic tone. She rolled her eyes at him as they walked into the kitchen together. Mary was the only person in the entire world that actually knew Anthony. She was the only one Anthony could genuinely talk to and confess his sins to.
Their two little brothers, Richard and Michael, ran around in circles near the kitchen table. Like most furniture in their house, it was made of dark wood. “Give it back to me, Mikey!” Richard yelled, reaching for the toy dinosaur. Their younger sister (the middle child of the family,) Evangeline, sat quietly reading a small book. She was always the sweetest and most introverted of the family.
“Oh, kids, we have a special service to attend today. Pastor George has sadly passed away.” His mother, Elizabeth recalled. Anthony didn’t pay much mind to Pastor George’s death, and more to the curiosity if he had made it through the pearly white gates of Heaven. He wondered was Jesus Christ our Lord and Savior was like. “Let’s all make sure we are ready to leave for church by 6:45 PM.” She spoke with soft intensity.
She rarely talked to them throughout the week. (Since she was always working late nights and early mornings.) His father, Joshua, was a “stay at home dad.” He was a kind man, but never really cared. He had a loose set of rules placed, and didn’t do much work to reinforce them at all, so it was Mary’s job to keep everybody in line. Anthony was always too stressed out to deal with anything, and he was sure Mary was too, but she made sure Anthony knew she didn’t need much help.
———
Unfortunately, Coy sat almost directly behind Anthony. It’s not that Anthony didn’t enjoy Coy’s company, quite the opposite, actually. He was just always a bit… distracting to Anthony. Anthony knew that he didn’t like boys, or more that he tried to ignore the fact that he never had a crush before. He started to pay attention to boys a bit more, but he ignored it. However, Coy made him feel weird.
Coy made him feel the same way he should with a woman. That made him uncomfortable. He knew it was wrong, but it was such a sweet and gentle sin. It would probably make him burn in hell, but it’s was a beautiful sin. A sin worth the cost of living with Satan for trillions of years.
So, when Coy did a fake cough to get Anthony’s attention, he was more than willing to turn around and pay mind to the handsome and charming boy behind him. Anthony gulped hard and felt his face grow warm as Coy slowly put his fingers in his own mouth. Saliva began to pool in his own mouth as he began to almost taste Coy’s soft and salty fingers. He grew even more fascinated as he gradually dragged his fingers out of his mouth. A thin string of saliva followed his pointer and middle finger as it landed back into Coy’s lap.
Anthony felt butterflies in his stomach, feeling a twist in near the small of his back. His head pounded as his mind was flooded with sinful images and thoughts. They weren’t explicit in any matter, but they were for sure sinful. In reality, homosexual thoughts aren’t sins: it’s the act of homosexuality that is. So, he quickly turned his head to the front of the room, trying his best to pay attention to Pastor Mike analyzing Pastor Georges testimony for the 1,000th time.
———
Without thinking, Anthony snatched Coy, and brought him into a warm and tight embrace. He felt Coy elevate himself by standing on his toes, probably creasing his shoes. He then felt Coy’s arms lay across his shoulders easily, probably clasping his hands together by the nape of his neck for a more comfortable hugging “experience.”
Anthony’s hands had nowhere else to go, so they naturally made their way to Coy’s lower back. He pressed his nose and mouth into Coy’s shoulder, smelling his laundry detergent and feeling the texture of his lavender polo. “You couldn’t fight to save your life, but you look so cool.” Anthony spoke muffled. Coy laughed, Anthony feeling every beat by the way Coy’s body shook. Anthony slowly lifted his head up, and slightly walked backwards to make better eye contact with Coy.
“Is this wrong?” Anthony blurted out in a worried tone. He was much too paranoid to even think.
“When has this ever been right?” Coy teased. They both snickered a bit, before fully letting go of each other.
Anthony felt very cold in that moment. He felt as if he needed Coy more than he possibly imagined he ever needed somebody. For some reason, in that moment, Anthony realized why people got married.
“Do you wanna come to my house after this? I’m not going to go after you, or anything. I’m not pushy.” Coy quipped, seeming a bit more sobered up than earlier. “Okay.” Anthony said dryly, not meaning for it to come out in such a boring tone. He didn’t want to seem bored. He wasn’t bored. He could never be bored of Coy. Like, ever.
Anthony whipped his wrist to his vision to look at his wrist watch. It’s only 8:30 at night, so they still have 30 minutes left of the service. “Let’s head back in, yeah? It’s only 8:30.” Anthony suggested. “Yeah.” Coy answered. They ambled next to each other, nervous to even be seen next to each other. They didn’t even do anything that could be considered sinful, (yet) so why did they feel so ashamed? Was this a sign from God? Or maybe even Jesus? Was Pastor George looking down in disgust upon them? He taught Anthony to be more disciplined than this during Prayer Group.
He was probably more than upset that Anthony would do something so stupid and awful at his own special service. He just died. He just fucking died, and instead of mourning, Anthony was all over Coy Piso, a known homosexual in the community. Even Anthony himself was getting homosexual thought of Coy and growing quite fond of him. Instead of distancing himself like he should, he was going to be going over to his house afterwards. What if something does happen? What if his homosexual thoughts become homosexual tendencies?
Anthony’s thoughts were racing much quicker than the pace him and Coy were waking. It seemed as if hours had passed, but it had only been 30 seconds. Anthony turned his head to see Coy relaxed and flushed. He was so confident in his own skin. Anthony wished he was more like Coy. More carefree and fun to be around. More playful and handsome.
Soft hands like Coy. Nice cologne like Coy. Pretty lips like Coy. Just more Coy. Anthony claimed it admiration, but he knew that it was more than that. Not much more, but simply just a crush.
———
Somehow, without much convincing, Mary allowed Anthony to go over to Coys house, and even sleep over. Mary was very docile and patient with Anthony, offering a mellow nod and smile when he asked. It was like she could read his mind. It’s almost as if she knew about Coy and Anthony… if there was anything to even “know” at all.
The car ride to Coy’s house was very awkward, as Coy sat in the front seat next to his mother. She shot Anthony a couple of suspicious glances, but no sign that she thought Anthony was trouble. Luckily, it was a quick car ride, and Coy and Anthony were already in Coy’s bedroom.
The room could very easily be filled with warm lighting, but neither of them bothered to turn on the lamp. Coys windows were open, giving the moonlight easier access to seep into the room. Coy sat down on his bed, seated closer to the wall and further to the door. On the opposite side of the bed, was Anthony. Both of them silently sat down and just watched each other.
The light from outside rested upon Coys back, hitting his face in a beautiful and soft manner. The moonlight sculpted out Coy’s features; his nose, jawline, cheekbones. Anthony silently observed Coy. “How did we get into this mess?” Coy smiled, talking in a quiet whisper. “I don’t know.” Anthony responded gently, looking down at the stained blanket, trying to collect himself.
Anthony was scared. He was scared that he would do something he wasn’t supposed to. He looked back up to see Coy taking off his polo shirt. He slipped it off effortlessly, grabbing it from the collar, and raising it above his head. He huffed a bit, and then threw it on the floor. He was like a piece of artwork. It was clear to Anthony that God had spent His sweet time on Coy.
His collarbones pushed again his skin, almost looking they were trying to escape Coy’s body whenever he reached his arms forward and pressed his shoulder blades. Coy looked up at Anthony in a vulnerable gaze. “Sorry… I usually sleep with my shirt off.” Coy explained as all his fake confidence from the alcohol disappeared.
“It’s okay. It’s so okay, Coy.” Anthony said, his eyes still fixated on Coy’s bare chest and body. It amazed Anthony how many freckles people could have, and how it gradually trailed down his entire body. Coy was still in his washed out jeans, and Anthony was still fully clothed. He took off his shirt as well to make Coy more comfortable with the fact that he was half naked.
Anthony swiftly removed his shirt from his body, rubbing his arms with his callused hands. Anthony worked out as much as he could, and did lots of heavy lifting when he helped around the house, so he gained a bit of muscle. He never thought it was much, or that he really did appear muscular until Coy couldn’t take his eyes off of arms and chest. “Woah…” Coy said under his breath, dragging out his words a bit more than he probably should’ve.
“Does it seem like I’m… thirsting over you or something..?” Coy asked in a way he hoped to convey as polite and genuine. “I don’t really… I don’t really know what that’s supposed to mean.” Anthony answered as straightforward as he probably could. They both silently admired each other, paying attention to every detail they’d never known about anybody else.
Coy loved the broadness of Anthony’s shoulders, and the way he continuously rubbed his arms because of how anxious he was. Anthony loved the way that Coy’s stomach slightly rolled over itself, not in a way that he was chubby, but in a way that his skin was almost… loose. He found it very endearing and, naturally, found it very human.
“I can’t fucking believe this is happening right now.” Coy chuckles echoing through the still and quiet room. Anthony could almost feel the vibrations of Coy’s throat like waves of motion. He became immersed in the world of Coy’s body all over again. He paid close attention to the way his Adam’s apple just barely poked out of his neck. Less visible than his collarbones, but still having the same effect.
Anthony loved the way that he could feel Coys gaze on him, staring at him while he observed Coy. Anthony felt butterflies in his stomach, and blood rush to his face like a spilt glass of red wine. He also felt a strange spark of bravery in himself.
“..What are you looking at so much, Anthony?” Coy asked before getting interrupted with Anthony’s lips pressing into his desperately. Coy stilled in shock, stiffening his muscles and lips. Anthony scooted a bit closer to Coy, hesitantly placing a hand on his arm. Anthony obsessed over how soft Coy’s skin was.
Coy began to get a bit more comfortable, seemingly melting into it. Coy felt gross about it, and so did Anthony. However, the both of them were far too gone to even consider stopping.
Coy didn’t know what do to with himself as him and Anthony kissed, so he just did what he saw in cheesy romcoms: Ran his fingers through the strands of Anthonys hair, and pulled at his scalp. Coy tugged at Anthony’s hair to bring him closer, and to deepen the kiss a bit more.
They scooted even closer than before, just enough for Coy to wrap his arms around Anthonys neck. His forearms pressed against the nape of Anthony’s neck in a way Sally did to Harry in “When Harry Met Sally…”
Anthony found hands slithering up Coys back to latch on his shoulders from behind. His grasp smothered them together, bringing them impossibly closer. Anthony’s black string bracelet scraped against Coy’s shoulder blades. Anthony was pressed up against the same collarbones he was adoring before, and he smiled at that.
They awkwardly broke apart,like most teenagers do: catching their breaths, wiping their saliva covered mouths, and looking anywhere but at each other. Anthony and Coy now both completely dumbed down, not worrying about their sin, and more about each other. They both looked back up, and tried to find a way (any way possible) to put their hands on each other. Juking each other’s affection by accident, but eventually finding their way back to the kiss.
Their kiss was much softer now, sweet in the most innocent way possible. Bringing their hands to each other’s face, Coy swiping his tongue on Anthony’s bottom lip. For some reason, that made something click in Anthony’s brain.
He was kissing a boy. Not just any boy, but Coy Piso. He was kissing a boy, and he thought he was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen in real life. He was kissing a boy, on his bed, shirtless, in the dark. In the dark, he swiped his tongue against his lip, asking for an entrance.
Anthony didn’t stop kissing him, but he stiffed just a little bit too much to be unnoticed. Coy didn’t pay mind to it until Anthony started to cry a little bit. Tears welled up in his eyes as he could feel his throat close out. Coy was still kissing him mindlessly as the boy in front of his was fighting the hounds of hell.
Coy quickly noticed what was happening as the salty streams began to fall on his face, even though they did not belong to him. Anthony’s own tears pressed up against the apples of Coy’s cheeks. Coy broke the kiss quickly after realizing, letting go of Anthony’s face as if he was “caught in the act.”
Anthony covered his face, letting out choked sobs. “Oh, dear Lord…” Anthony murmured out into the palms of his hands. Coy watched his with a twinkle of sadness in his eyes. Coy began to silently cry too. Not because he felt guilty, but because he felt sadness for Anthony. Coy was secure in his Christianity, as he interpreted Leviticus 18:22 and 20:13 differently than most southern Christians.
Anthony was (clearly) very insecure in his Christianity. “Jesus, our Lord and Savior… please forgive me for I have sinned.” Anthony said in his head, letting a big breath out. “Hey… it’s okay, Anthony. Let’s just go to sleep, okay?” Coy said, placing a gentle hand on Anthony’s bare shoulder.
Anthony melted into his touch, removing his hands from his face. He wiped the snot that was bordering his top lip, letting out a soft chuckle. “Sorry that you had to see that.” He whispered nervously. “Don’t be sorry. I understand. We can repent tomorrow… if you want.”
“That would be great.”
He begged to Jesus to help him in this cruel situation, but you can’t help a man fight off a tiger, if his head is already in its mouth.