June 2020 #2 - Playing games

[Kaje]

Once again we had a tie for this month's prompt picture, so I'm going to post both.

Please give us your poems, flash fiction, haiku, short stories, drabbles or novellas, as inspired by this image. Any length, any topic, just have some LGBTQ element, and keep it YA. I look forward to reading your creations.

[Kaje]

Caught

"—and I thought you boys might like some cookies—" My supposed-to-be-locked door opened and my mother stopped short in the doorway of my room, the plate in her hand wavering enough for a cookie to hit the floor.

I stood up in a rush, almost dumping Thomas on his ass, and immediately dropped to the ground to pick up that cookie, because bending over hid the way my body had been liking having Thomas's ass right where it was. He staggered a step and pulled the plug of his controller out of the console. On screen, his character died a messy death, followed by my own.

Thomas grabbed up his backpack. "Thanks for the, um, lesson, Kev! See you in school tomorrow." His deep voice broke on the last word, and he whirled and hurried to the door.

Mom stepped back and said, "Cookie?" to him in a stuffed voice.

Thomas paused, grabbed one, stuffed it in his mouth and tried to say thanks while spraying crumbs. It takes a lot to notice him blushing, but his gorgeous dark cheeks were sure turning red. He ducked out and I heard his size fourteens thudding down the stairs. (And yes, it's true what they say— but not relevant right now.)

Mom set the plate on my dresser and raised that mom-eyebrow at me. "Got something you want to tell me?"

"Maybe?" It was my turn to squeak in a very uncool way, as my heart tried to sprint out of my chest. I breathed through my nose and pushed my voice to its deepest register. "Yes, I do."

Mom giggled. "You're taking up Barry White impersonation?"

All the air left my chest in a bark of laughter. If she can joke about this… "I'm… Thomas is…"

When my sandy throat closed right up and wouldn't go there, she said very gently, "Your second boyfriend?"

"Second— You knew?" Jason had been a disaster all around, but I thought I'd hidden him successfully.

"Sweetheart, you started doing all your own laundry. You suddenly developed a taste for golf, 'the most boring sport on Earth', and sushi, with a new 'friend'. You jumped like a rabbit if your phone rang at the dinner table. And you never once brought your new 'friend' in to taste my cookies. I can do math."

"Oh. Um." My heart began to slow down. "Yeah, um, Jason was, he was—"

"Not right for you," Mom said. "It wasn't easy watching you twist yourself into pretzels trying to impress him. That hair color, for example. All wrong for your skin tone. Trust me on this one, sweetheart. You were a lot less obvious this time, though. Thomas seems like a nice boy."

"He is. He's great." I blew out a long breath and rubbed my sweaty palms on my thighs. "Wow, I— wow." I sat limply on the bed. "He's really smart, and he doesn't laugh at my geekiness. He says he likes it."

"So he should." Mom stepped closer and ran a hand over my hair, that I'd buzzed short to ditch the awful auburn Jason had suggested. "You're perfect, just the way you are."

"You're my mom. You have to say that."

"No I don't. I never signed the contract. You're still returnable." She bent and kissed the top of my head. "Gay or straight, or what's the others-- bisexual or asexual? I love you, you know that."

"I'm not ace," I said, trying to cover the way that sank into my butterfly-filled stomach and doused those flutters in sweet honey.

"Although if you're not ace, there is such a thing as TMI," Mom added without missing a beat. "Always use condoms. Never tell me the details."

"He has huge… feet," I said.

She stuck her fingers in her ears. "La, la, la, I'm not listening to my son's sex life." She turned to the door and paused there. "Don't eat all the cookies before dinner. Are we good?"

I pressed my lips together and nodded against a rush of stupid tears that filled my eyes.

"Maybe you should call Thomas," she suggested. "He might be worried. Let him know he's always welcome and tomorrow is chocolate chip day."

I nodded again, and gave her a little wave to be all the things I couldn't say without breaking down like a wuss.

"And tomorrow after school is also clean-the-garden day," she said. "Tell him to wear old clothes."

She closed the door gently behind her. I heard the latch click, and then her soft footsteps down the stairs.

I grabbed my phone and hit his contact. No texts. This one needed voice.

He answered, sounding breathless. "Are you okay? Do you need me to come back for you? Mom would let you stay at our place."

"No, nope, sweetheart." The endearment came unexpectedly, a step forward but it felt right in the shaken aftermath. "She was great. She already knew, about Jason too. She—" My voice gave up altogether.

I'd never really worried about being disowned or kicked out or any of the things that you hear about, not seriously, not in the light of day, and yet— and yet, I hadn't been able to trust that on this one thing my mother's love would stretch without breaking. I'd spent too many dark, doubting hours in the middle of the night wondering if her conservative childhood and her church meant there was a cold place deep inside her for someone like me. Wondering—

I bit back a sob.

"Listen." Thomas's voice was naturally deep, and sweet. "Kevin, I'm coming back, okay? We're out now. My dad and step-mom, your mom. We don't have to hide."

"Tomorrow," I said. "Come tomorrow. Mom says she's baking chocolate chip and we can help her clean up the garden and… be. You and me. Together."

I didn't think his voice could drop any lower, but it did. "Doesn't she go to church Wednesday evenings? You think I could stay later and… play some more video games?"

"Yeah. Hell yeah." I remembered the feel of his body against mine, and it steadied me. We hadn't done that much yet, but there was a hell of a lot of promise there. "For kissing points."

"And maybe a bit more." He laughed, a warm, free sound that went straight to my heart. "Tomorrow. Looking forward to it."

So was I. I dropped back to lie on the pillows, staring at the ceiling. I felt so light I might float up off the mattress. "Me too. Wow. Me too…"

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