Post by Jasper Steele on Aug 11, 2007 23:22:47 GMT -5
Welcome to the world of trashy, horribly written, teen romance. [=. This is a story I wrote, based on the lyrics of the song "Collide" by Howie Day. It's about gay guys, so if you have a problem with that, don't read. It also has sex, so if you don't want to read that stuff, don't read this story.
Also, in the first chapter I mention a book called "A Concrete Sky". I forget the author's name, but it's an AMAZING book, and I highly recommend it.
And one more note, I realize that yes, the character's are called Dawson and Joey. It's already been pointed out to me that those are also the names of the main characters in "Dawson's Creek". but it's a coincidence. I've never watched Dawson's Creek. [=
Critiquing is more than welcome![/color]
~*~
Joey stood awkwardly inside the front hall, looking at his guest, who looked around just as awkwardly. His hands were tucked deep into his pockets, and he wouldn’t meet Joey’s eyes. Be nice to Dawson? Yeah, okay. He’d liked get punched out for his efforts. He didn’t even know how to begin, and resentment began to smoulder, directed at a father who had unwittingly forced this torture upon him. Joey Harrison, entertain Dawson Lake? Yeah right. How could it ever be anything but complete humilitation?
Dawson looked at Joey quizzically, as if he was unsure quite what to make of the other boy. Joey was comforted by the fact that Dawson too was uneasy with this whole idea.
“Well, we could go upstairs…”
Joey made he suggestion, unsure if he really wanted Dawson there. Sure, he’d dreamed about it lots, but those were just dreams. They were safe. They weren’t supposed to actually happen.
“Better than here.”
Dawson kicked off his shoes and waited expectantly.
“I don’t know the way, you know…”
Right.
Joey blushed and led Dawson up the stairs and into the one place school had never reached him before. Nothing cataclysmic happened, and though he’d been silly to think it might, Joey still breathed a sigh of relief.
Dawson looked around, studying Joey’s sanctuary with feigned disinterest.
“You have a lot of books.”
Was his only comment as he sat carefully on the corner of Joey’s bed. His blond hair was tousled carelessly, his blue eyes bright.
“Yeah, I’m a bit of a fanatic.”
Joey sat at his computer and regarded Dawson suspiciously, trying not to show it.
“So…my dad said I have to be nice to you now, since your dad is helping him get his shit together and all that.”
Dawson folded his hands nervously, and Joey had the feeling that he had told him that just to break the awkward silence that had filled the room. Joey nodded.
“I know.”
It wasn’t like Dawson wanted to be Joey’s friend. He knew that. Didn’t like it, but then again, he didn’t have to.
“What did yours say?”
Dawson seemed to need some sort of reassurance. So Joey gave it to him.
“Basically the same.”
He stretched, uncomfortable in his own room for the first time in his life.
“Good. So you hate me and I hate you, but we have to pretend to like each other. Here. Not at school.”
Dawson’s tone left no room for argument, and Joey didn’t try. He wouldn’t admit that although honest, those words had hit hard, and they had hurt. He knew in that moment that even harmless dreams can be wounded. But he brushes it aside to brood over later when Dawson is gone.
“Right. My thoughts exactly.”
Joey had become adept at hiding his feelings. He hadn’t really expected Dawson to be happy about this, after all. Why should he be? Joey wasn’t even happy about it, and Dawson was the object of his wet dreams. He resented Dawson, disliked the other boy, but that didn’t stop him from lusting after the blond boy when no one was the wiser. It made things a bit complicated sometimes.
“Listen, uh… I don’t really have anything to say to you, so can I just read one of your books?”
Dawson raised an eyebrow, making it clear that ‘no’ was not an option. Joey nodded. It wasn’t like he had a better idea. He watched while Dawson got up and browsed the shelves nearest the bed. He blinked in surprise at the book Dawson chose. A slim volume, grey, “A Concrete Sky” didn’t attract as much attention as most of the books on these shelves. He wondered if Dawson knew what sort of book he had chosen, but said nothing, turning instead to his computer to play Never Winter Nights for the fifth time.
Long minutes passed in silence, punctuated by the clicking of the mouse and the turning of a page. Joey was just getting really absorbed in the game and wondering what on earth could be taking their parents so long when Dawson let out a small noise of astonishment. Joey turned to look at him and caught the small blush before it faded.
“You really are a faggot, aren’t you? What the hell kind of book did you give me?”
Indignation showed all over Dawson’s handsome face. Joey sighed.
“I didn’t give it to you, you picked it up off my shelf.”
He had Dawson on a technicality. No one had forced him to read that particular book, he could have chosen any of the several hundred in the room.
“And unless your next question is something along the lines of ‘will you be my boyfriend’ I don’t see why it should matter to you if I’m a fag or not.”
Joey smirked. He had gained the upper hand –momentarily.
“in your dreams.”
Dawson tossed the book onto the floor and stood up.
“I’m going to wait in the car. Bye faggot.”
Joey watched as Dawson stormed downstairs and out of the house, then sighed. He picked the book up and smoothed the pages, then placed it back on the shelf where it belonged. Then he returned to his computer game, ignoring the bitter hurt feelings inside him. How could he have even hoped for anything else?
~*~
“You said you’d be nice to him!”
Mike Harrison stood in the doorway, glaring at his son. Joey looked at him mournfully.
“You didn’t tell me it was Dawson Lake I had to be nice to.”
Joey’s accusatory glare matched his father’s perfectly, and Mike backed down, a bit.
“What’s wrong with Dawson? He seemed very nice.”
“He’s an asshole.”
“Language Joe. He’s just going through a rough time right now. He’s bound to be stressed.”
“For seventeen years? I don’t think Dawson’s ever been anything but a jerk.”
“Are you done whining now Joey? Give the guy a chance, maybe he’ll be good for you.”
Joey sighed as his dad left the room, and flopped onto his bed. Be friends with Dawson Lake. Him. Couldn’t happen. Memories of Dawson played through his head. Dawson looking the other way in shame when Joey was first declared an outcast. Dawson putting his fist into Joey’s face. Dawson looking at the words in ‘A Concrete Sky’. Dawson leaving his room enraged. Through it all, the lingering smell of Dawson clung to his bed.
Also, in the first chapter I mention a book called "A Concrete Sky". I forget the author's name, but it's an AMAZING book, and I highly recommend it.
And one more note, I realize that yes, the character's are called Dawson and Joey. It's already been pointed out to me that those are also the names of the main characters in "Dawson's Creek". but it's a coincidence. I've never watched Dawson's Creek. [=
Critiquing is more than welcome![/color]
~*~
Joey stood awkwardly inside the front hall, looking at his guest, who looked around just as awkwardly. His hands were tucked deep into his pockets, and he wouldn’t meet Joey’s eyes. Be nice to Dawson? Yeah, okay. He’d liked get punched out for his efforts. He didn’t even know how to begin, and resentment began to smoulder, directed at a father who had unwittingly forced this torture upon him. Joey Harrison, entertain Dawson Lake? Yeah right. How could it ever be anything but complete humilitation?
Dawson looked at Joey quizzically, as if he was unsure quite what to make of the other boy. Joey was comforted by the fact that Dawson too was uneasy with this whole idea.
“Well, we could go upstairs…”
Joey made he suggestion, unsure if he really wanted Dawson there. Sure, he’d dreamed about it lots, but those were just dreams. They were safe. They weren’t supposed to actually happen.
“Better than here.”
Dawson kicked off his shoes and waited expectantly.
“I don’t know the way, you know…”
Right.
Joey blushed and led Dawson up the stairs and into the one place school had never reached him before. Nothing cataclysmic happened, and though he’d been silly to think it might, Joey still breathed a sigh of relief.
Dawson looked around, studying Joey’s sanctuary with feigned disinterest.
“You have a lot of books.”
Was his only comment as he sat carefully on the corner of Joey’s bed. His blond hair was tousled carelessly, his blue eyes bright.
“Yeah, I’m a bit of a fanatic.”
Joey sat at his computer and regarded Dawson suspiciously, trying not to show it.
“So…my dad said I have to be nice to you now, since your dad is helping him get his shit together and all that.”
Dawson folded his hands nervously, and Joey had the feeling that he had told him that just to break the awkward silence that had filled the room. Joey nodded.
“I know.”
It wasn’t like Dawson wanted to be Joey’s friend. He knew that. Didn’t like it, but then again, he didn’t have to.
“What did yours say?”
Dawson seemed to need some sort of reassurance. So Joey gave it to him.
“Basically the same.”
He stretched, uncomfortable in his own room for the first time in his life.
“Good. So you hate me and I hate you, but we have to pretend to like each other. Here. Not at school.”
Dawson’s tone left no room for argument, and Joey didn’t try. He wouldn’t admit that although honest, those words had hit hard, and they had hurt. He knew in that moment that even harmless dreams can be wounded. But he brushes it aside to brood over later when Dawson is gone.
“Right. My thoughts exactly.”
Joey had become adept at hiding his feelings. He hadn’t really expected Dawson to be happy about this, after all. Why should he be? Joey wasn’t even happy about it, and Dawson was the object of his wet dreams. He resented Dawson, disliked the other boy, but that didn’t stop him from lusting after the blond boy when no one was the wiser. It made things a bit complicated sometimes.
“Listen, uh… I don’t really have anything to say to you, so can I just read one of your books?”
Dawson raised an eyebrow, making it clear that ‘no’ was not an option. Joey nodded. It wasn’t like he had a better idea. He watched while Dawson got up and browsed the shelves nearest the bed. He blinked in surprise at the book Dawson chose. A slim volume, grey, “A Concrete Sky” didn’t attract as much attention as most of the books on these shelves. He wondered if Dawson knew what sort of book he had chosen, but said nothing, turning instead to his computer to play Never Winter Nights for the fifth time.
Long minutes passed in silence, punctuated by the clicking of the mouse and the turning of a page. Joey was just getting really absorbed in the game and wondering what on earth could be taking their parents so long when Dawson let out a small noise of astonishment. Joey turned to look at him and caught the small blush before it faded.
“You really are a faggot, aren’t you? What the hell kind of book did you give me?”
Indignation showed all over Dawson’s handsome face. Joey sighed.
“I didn’t give it to you, you picked it up off my shelf.”
He had Dawson on a technicality. No one had forced him to read that particular book, he could have chosen any of the several hundred in the room.
“And unless your next question is something along the lines of ‘will you be my boyfriend’ I don’t see why it should matter to you if I’m a fag or not.”
Joey smirked. He had gained the upper hand –momentarily.
“in your dreams.”
Dawson tossed the book onto the floor and stood up.
“I’m going to wait in the car. Bye faggot.”
Joey watched as Dawson stormed downstairs and out of the house, then sighed. He picked the book up and smoothed the pages, then placed it back on the shelf where it belonged. Then he returned to his computer game, ignoring the bitter hurt feelings inside him. How could he have even hoped for anything else?
~*~
“You said you’d be nice to him!”
Mike Harrison stood in the doorway, glaring at his son. Joey looked at him mournfully.
“You didn’t tell me it was Dawson Lake I had to be nice to.”
Joey’s accusatory glare matched his father’s perfectly, and Mike backed down, a bit.
“What’s wrong with Dawson? He seemed very nice.”
“He’s an asshole.”
“Language Joe. He’s just going through a rough time right now. He’s bound to be stressed.”
“For seventeen years? I don’t think Dawson’s ever been anything but a jerk.”
“Are you done whining now Joey? Give the guy a chance, maybe he’ll be good for you.”
Joey sighed as his dad left the room, and flopped onto his bed. Be friends with Dawson Lake. Him. Couldn’t happen. Memories of Dawson played through his head. Dawson looking the other way in shame when Joey was first declared an outcast. Dawson putting his fist into Joey’s face. Dawson looking at the words in ‘A Concrete Sky’. Dawson leaving his room enraged. Through it all, the lingering smell of Dawson clung to his bed.