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Six months ago, Armitage would never have guessed he would be in this situation. But here he was, hanging over the edge of his single bed, giggling to himself with every new text, his eyes focused on the glowing display of his touch-tone cellphone. The lights in his room glowed a deep orange, flickering with the curtains billowing in the warm July breeze. The tinny speakers of his CD player blared shoegaze in the background, but Armitage barely noticed, instead choosing to focus on the next text to pop up on the backlit green screen. His heart beat harder with every second that he didn’t get a reply. “God,” he thought, insulting himself with each passing moment, “it’s not like anything’s gonna really happen, right?”
Even though it was already way past when he should be asleep, it seemed like his final period at school had just finished. It was a study period, but it seemed that he did everything but study. He’d spent the time with Ross, trying – and failing – to cram before finals, drinking coffee after coffee, making attempt after attempt to read over his notes, but never making any progress. It was like Ross sapped all of his concentration, with his jokes, his smile, his shoulders... and those eyes, just staring across the table at him. It was no wonder that he couldn’t get anything into his head, with that looking at him.
He’d never tell, but they sneaked out before school ended, just before the buses came to pick everyone up. They went to the local store, split a pizza, brushed hands – multiple times, and Armitage could scarcely think of anything else – and raided the liquor store next door for anything they could steal. Ross had slipped a couple of miniature bottles of vodka into his leather jacket, bought an energy drink, and left without paying for anything else, winking at him with that wry half-smile Armitage loved. The two of them hung out behind the school gym, taking swigs and getting progressively drunker as they reeled from the burn of each taste. They laughed together, vowing to each other never to tell. It wasn’t a date, but it sure didn’t do anything to make Armitage less attracted to Ross. Every time they saw each other – hell, every time they interacted – Ross seemed to become prettier and prettier. Armitage bit his lip as he daydreamed, his phone glowing in his hand as the music blared in the background.
The phone buzzed.
Was fun doing stuff earlier. Would be cool to do it again, kid.
His mind leapt to Ross glancing over at him, murmuring those words as he ran his fingers through his greased, dark hair, his blue leather jacket creasing as his arms moved through the air as if it were nothing at all. Ross’s deeply scarred hands, his stick-and-poked wrists, his toned, muscled arms, appeared to him as if in a premonition, making him blush as he read those words. Everything about him contrasted with Armitage’s entire aesthetic, his entire goddamn thing – his skirts, his red leather jackets, his immaculate makeup. Armitage studied hard. He’d never gotten anything less than an A, never been to a party, and had certainly never kissed anyone. But Ross knew all that, and he still wanted to hang out with him. And it seemed – to Armitage’s admittedly over-excitable, aggressively romantic mind – that he was totally, unavoidably into him.
Thinking intensely of the time they’d spent that day, Armitage texted back:
I’d like that. Pick me up some time. Maybe tonight? ;)
He shook nervously as he put the phone down, and started trying to find a distraction. He turned up the stereo a little to drown out the anxiety, and paced around the room. He’d texted Ross like that before, to be sure, but tonight the feeling was so much more tense. What he needed was a way to get rid of the jitters and to potentially impress Ross later. What he needed was makeup.
Armitage pulled out his swivel chair and sat down in front of the crooked little mirror he kept on one side of his room. He grabbed a sponge and some concealer, dabbing just enough on that his skin looked a little less hormonal, but also not enough that it looked like he was trying too hard. (Which he was, but that’s beside the point.) He put just a dab of black eyeshadow – almost a smudge – on the outer corners of his eyes, following it with a swoop of red glitter. To finish, he filled in his lips with the deepest, most seductive red he could find in his collection, and accented his eyes just a touch with a dark mascara. He posed for himself in the mirror for an embarrassingly long time, impressed with what he’d done. Everything about his face he hated – his brows, his nose, his jawline – seemed irrelevant now that he looked this damn good.
Just as he was putting on some cologne – of course, that he’d stolen off one of the boys at school – he heard his phone vibrate. He’d never checked his phone that fast in his life.
Sounds good, sib! See you in like, 20 minutes, I guess...
Armitage practically squealed with joy, before realising that the others in the house would probably hear him. Going out, late at night, with his favourite boy? He should be so lucky. Besides, it’s not a date.
Not yet.
A couple months back, Armitage had started wearing his hair a little shorter, contouring a little more shallowly on his cheeks, and wearing baggier, more neutral clothes. It seemed nobody really noticed at first, and Armitage liked it better that way.
With a little more room, he began cutting off a tiny bit more each day – haphazardly, of course, with some crimping shears he’d found – and wearing tighter things on his chest, working out his arms a little more, and mirroring the way that his guy friends talked and moved. Eventually, he buzzed his hair with an electric shaver, and invested a little money in a bright red binder. But it was when he talked to Julian about the way he was presenting that people really seemed to cotton on. Word spread like wildfire across the school, and the scorch-marks weren’t pretty.
Armitage remembered back to a few weeks after that. He’d stayed after school to help the theatre kids with a play – it was West Side Story, with that overachiever Kelly as the lead – and had to stay on even later to rig up some wires that the lighting techs were having trouble with. By the time he left, it had gotten dark.
The parking lot outside the school was lit by a single streetlight. In front of him, Armitage could see the long shadows of a group of boys, hearing their loud, deep laughter approaching. As his anxiety welled up, the boys had started to converge on the exact spot that Armitage was standing, cornering him. No matter where he tried to walk, the wall blocked him, their jeers and jabs willing his anxiety to bloom into outright panic. Just as he was about to break down crying, the roar of a van engine and the glare of headlights caused the boys to scatter. Ross emerged, his brows furrowed in disapproval, opened the passenger-side door, and bundled Armitage in.
“You’re lucky, kid,” Ross said, as Armitage tried to hide his tears. “Those guys are dicks. And I’m sorry for shovelling you in here like this, I just... there aren’t any buses for a while, and...”
“Thank you,” Armitage whimpered, still trembling a little. “You... that really helped. I’m sorry, it’s just...”
“Don’t worry about it, sib,” Ross interrupted. “I don’t know what it’s like – not at all – but if I’ve gotta say one thing, it’s that you look really fucking cool. And if this is you, it’s all the better.”
Armitage sat with his legs on the dash, still shivering a little. “Th-- thank you for...”
“You cold? Here.” Ross reached behind Armitage’s seat and threw him a red leather jacket. “Somebody... uh... left this in here a while back,” he smirked, “and it’s a little small. And I don’t think I’m gonna be able to give it back any time soon. So you can... like... keep it if you want. Don’t worry about it.”
Armitage put the jacket on over his shirt. It was a snug fit, but it kept him warm. And it smelled exactly like Ross, with a dash of floral perfume added in.
“Fuck, that looks good on you,” Ross thought aloud, before coming to his senses and maintaining a distant, roguish half-smile. “Uh, I’m Ross, by the way. I don’t think we’re in any classes together, but I see you every now and then in theatre. Like... you do tech stuff, right? Whatever, I...”
“Armitage. Thanks for... everything, Ross.”
“Not a problem, kid. I’ll drop you somewhere safe, okay? Like, where’s home? If that’s okay to ask you...”
And that’s how it started. Armitage would find Ross whenever he had a free period, and even though he could physically feel his grades dropping, he also felt better feelings coming in. Emotions, for the first time, properly. It felt like he could finally see in colour. It was like Ross was somehow unravelling the web of self-deprecation that had bound him so tight ever since his creation. Above all else, Armitage felt human. And no matter what he did to try and impress Ross, it was like being himself was the best thing he could do to achieve that.
Armitage returned to reality, hearing the unmistakable sound of Ross’s van pulling up outside. He raced out of the front door, his red leather jacket bouncing in the wind and his high heels clicking against the concrete as he ran, throwing the van door open and practically jumping into the passenger seat. Ross, hand still on the steering wheel, looked over at Armitage, his eyes growing wide.
“Wow... Armitage, you’re...”
“What?” Armitage yelped.
“...so fucking handsome, Jesus fuck...” Ross murmured. Armitage laughed, framing his face with his hand.
“You’re not doing so bad yourself, Ross,” Armitage giggled. Ross was dressed casually, the collar on his blue jacket popped so as to conceal his face. His hair was slick with gel, and he had on the same cologne he was wearing when they’d first properly met. Noticing Armitage staring, he blushed intensely, beginning to fidget with the keys in the ignition. His breath made clouds of fog in the air, and the windows were starting to mist up. At this moment, Armitage was painfully aware of how close they were sitting. The silence held on, tangible, making him shiver with a willing anticipation. He felt warmth spread across his face, and he bit his lip slightly as if to stifle the tension.
“I, uh...” Ross stammered, “made you a – uh, a mixtape. It’s stupid, I know, but--”
“You what!?” Armitage squeaked, beaming at Ross.
“Yeah, I... uh... I thought you might like some of the stuff on here. I mean, you’ve been talking about it when we hang out, and, I, ah...” He trailed off, turning the keys, making the engine sputter into life. The first notes of Slowdive’s Sleep flowed out through the stereo, hitting Armitage like a wave, carrying him deeper under Ross’s spell. Armitage let out a contented sigh, and cast his eyes over to Ross, who remained blushing in the driver’s seat, a soft smile on his pale lips.
They set off, heading outward from the city, just letting the music run through them. Ross’s presence made Armitage’s head fuzzy, and the music washed over him, holding him like he hoped Ross would do, making him dizzy with happiness. Just being near him – not even touching him, not even having held hands with him yet – was enough, for now. But just for now.
Ross kept driving like this, in comfortable suspense, for a good twenty minutes, speeding past the built-up areas of the outer suburbs until they gave way to fields, to forest, and to the old rural churches Armitage loved to explore. Occasionally, he’d reach over to Armitage, stroke his hair, and let out a happy chirp. Armitage felt his mind collapse into a singularity every time.
After a while, Armitage gathered the courage to speak. “So... where are we going?” he asked.
“I wanted to do something – uh, sweet, I guess, with you,” Ross stuttered, masking his nerves with a short laugh. “It’s like... late, I guess, and we’d normally do something, like, illegal, or ‘hardcore’, but I don’t really want to do that tonight. If you’re okay with that, of course.”
Armitage clenched his fists to stop himself making any overly excited noises. “Yes! I’m very okay with that... I mean, like, as long as you are, Ross... yes! It’d be nice...” he babbled.
“So this could be like, a date, I guess, if you wanted it to be,” Ross blurted out, his feeling of sheer panic almost completely visible. Even though it was the middle of winter, Armitage could swear he saw beads of sweat beginning to form on his creased forehead. “I mean, if you just wanna lift some stuff, I guess we could --”
“No! I mean, yes. I absolutely want that. The date. I want this to be a date,” Armitage shouted. His body entirely seized up, and he closed his eyes as he breathed deeply to try and calm himself. He looked over at Ross, whose face had calmed from panic into happiness, and absolutely melted into his seat. This was happening. The fireworks were going off. And now he was on a date with Ross, the prettiest boy on this goddamn bitch of a planet.
Armitage and Ross sat in near-total silence for the rest of the drive, both beaming to themselves as they passed through empty fields and rural townships. The stars kept disappearing behind trees, but the night sky looked brighter tonight anyhow. Armitage’s thoughts leapt to what he wanted Ross to do with him – to hold him tight, for them to fall asleep in each other’s arms, for Armitage to be able to feel every beat of Ross’s heart as they embraced – and then, instantly, he remembered that all of this was no longer just a hopeless fantasy by some idiot, teenage romantic. Even though he wasn’t wearing any blush, Armitage’s cheeks seemed stained red.
Eventually, they reached a narrow, winding road, leading up one of the hills that surrounded the city. Ross drove with a reckless precision, steering around the corners as fast as he could while maintaining control. The path narrowed to one lane after about five minutes, then turned to gravel, and gradually turned into a dirt firebreak leading up the side of the hill. The trees here were scarce, and the stars seemed more visible than ever. At last, Ross came to a round clearing to the side of the road, turned his van to face side-on to the ocean below them, and brought his vehicle to a halt.
Armitage – still trying, and failing, not to get carried away in thoughts of Ross – turned to him, cocking his head to the side. “So, what’s this?”
“It’s the date, silly,” Ross replied. “Wait, come with me. I’ll show you.”
“Come with you?”
Before Armitage could pry any more, Ross stepped out of the driver’s side door, motioning for Armitage to come with him. Armitage slid himself out of the passenger’s seat, stretched a little, and ran to Ross’s side.
“It’s in here,” Ross said. “And, yeah, I understand the creepiness of inviting a cute boy into the back of your van, but I promise you that this is worth it.” He smiled, grabbed the handle of the sliding back door, and pulled it open. It was pitch-black in there, and Armitage gave a puzzled glance back.
“Wait,” Ross commanded, and reached into the back. With a satisfying click, he switched on a series of fairy lights that were hooked up all around the back of his van, illuminating star-patterned blankets hanging on the walls, pillows scattered on the carpeted floor, and a perspex skylight shining through the roof of the van. There was a cassette player in the corner, and Armitage could make out a copy of Loveliescrushing’s Bloweyelashwish through the little window on the front. Ross reached in and turned the player on.
“So... this is it! I figured that I could take you out here, where the lights of the city aren’t doing much any more, and we could just... watch the stars, or whatever you have in mind. It’s all up to you, sib,” Ross smiled. He reached downwards, picked up Armitage’s cold hand in his, and held it close for a second. He stepped into the van, pulling Armitage behind him, and fell onto a pile of pillows with a surprising grace. “Look!” he said, pointing up at the stars. “That one’s Mars, I think.”
Armitage fell slightly, his knees landing on a pillow in front of Ross. Their faces were so, tantalisingly close, and Armitage could see the stars and fairy lights reflecting in Ross’s eyes, causing them to shimmer in that adorable way they did when he got emotional. He kept a hold of Ross’s hand, moving his legs so that they brushed against his.
For a second, Armitage gazed deep into Ross’s dark eyes, watching the reflections in them glimmer and waver with every tiny movement they made. Ross closed his eyes ever-so-briefly, showing the dust from the eyeshadow he’d forgotten to wipe off the night before.
“Is this too much?” Ross whispered.
Armitage shook his head. “No, it’s... angelic...”
He grabbed Ross by the collar of his blue leather jacket and pulled him close. Their lips locked, and Armitage could taste a lingering wisp of cigarette smoke as they drew each other closer and closer into the kiss. Ross put a hand on Armitage’s cheek, sending shivers down his spine even more than he was before. Armitage felt his body pressing harder and harder against Ross’s as they embraced, tumbling over into the pillows on the floor.
Even though it lasted just a couple of seconds, the kiss felt like forever. It was a confusing mess, for sure, but it seemed to come naturally to Armitage. He broke away, stared into Ross’s eyes for an instant, and kissed him again, over and over, letting out excited squeaks as he did. Finally, the momentum came to a halt, and Armitage found himself staring up through the skylight as his head rested on Ross’s chest. The stars seemed brighter, now, and the cold air around them did nothing to cool them down.
Armitage, still shaking a little out of pure ecstasy, looked over at Ross, who lay smiling next to him. Armitage reached over to him, kissing him on the cheek.
“I... I like you, Ross, in case you couldn’t tell...”
“Hey, don’t worry about that part. I totally feel the same,” Ross chuckled, his face flushed. “You’re one hell of a kid, Armitage...”
Armitage squealed, and kissed Ross again, his hands exploring the back of his head as he nervously held on, pulling his hair a little as he did. Ross grunted a little, before giggling and returning to Armitage’s lips. Time seemed to stand still as they held each other, Ross’s arms grasping Armitage’s lithe body against his, while Armitage let out a contented sigh. They separated, and Armitage put on a wry smile as he gazed at Ross. He bit his lip a little.
“I... hope you didn’t mind the tongue,” he laughed.
Ross smiled, planting a small kiss on Armitage’s forehead. “I’m not mad at all, sib. You do that pretty well for someone who’s never done that before. Especially the tongue, like, wow.”
“How did you know!?”
“You can’t keep secrets from me, mister. Not even if you tried. Unless there’s something really big I’m missing.”
Armitage paused, his eyes wide in fear, before smiling again. “N...no, there’s nothing at all...”
“Good,” Ross replied. “So, the real question is, uh... if you’d like to keep doing this sort of thing. As friends, if you want, or as... as...”
“As boyfriends?” Armitage yelped, the noise echoing through the interior of Ross’s van. “Ah, I mean... yes, yes, yes! I’m sorry, I’m bad at this... I’ve never, like, dated anyone, if we’re sharing secrets, so I’m s--”
“Don’t worry, I haven’t either,” Ross smirked. “I mean, not seriously. But I wanna be serious with you. For sure. You’re exceptional. If I can gush for a moment...” He paused to look at Armitage’s face, and upon seeing a nod, he continued. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. It’s like... I’ve felt feelings with girls, that’s for sure, but they weren’t anything like what I feel for boys. And what I feel for boys in general is like... minuscule, compared to what I feel for you. And I get those feelings every time we hang out. I know that I seem all dark, and aloof, and mysterious, but I’m just hiding what I feel for you – all the soft, warm emotions that rush into my head when you’re near me... they’re intoxicating. And I’d be privileged to date you.”
“Yes, oh my God,” Armitage shot back, nodding his head vigorously, with a grin sweeping over his face. “Yes, yes, a hundred times yes!” He kissed Ross lightly, before holding his face in his tiny hands and locking lips with him, adrenaline shooting through his veins as he fell under his spell.
A half-smile dashed across Ross’s face as he traced his finger through Armitage’s buzz-cut. “Then it’s done! We’re boyfriends! And, sib,” he said, “I’m really excited to do this with you.”
After kissing each other over and over, Armitage nestled into Ross’s strong arms, the scent of tobacco still on his hands. Ross pulled one of his blankets over both of them, and they collapsed onto the pillows. Armitage had never been so comfortable as he fell asleep under the stars.