chapter 4 of the 80s story!! i promise i'll have a title next update (lie)
taglist!: @anastoundingmango @technicallyaminecraftsimp i can't remember if anyone else wanted to be tagged to lmk if i forgot you
Chapter 4
James waved goodbye to Michael as the other boy began walking himself home. He had been kind enough to walk James back to his house.
James entered his own house, his mother sitting on the couch.
"How was Michael?" James's mother asked.
"Good! He got me ice cream." James smiled.
"He sounds wonderful." His mother remarked.
"He is." James said.
"Hey, what happened to your arm?" His mother said.
"I fell off his skateboard. I'm fine, he patched me up." James reassured her.
His mother laughed. "It's fine James. I'm glad he patched you up."
James sighed. He ventured upstairs into his room. He flopped down onto his bed and put his headphones over his ears. He pressed play on the CD player that had been in his pocket the entire time. "Your Song" by Elton John began playing. Michael's favorite.
And another love song.
James continued listening. He thought about how Michael had treated him today. He'd treated him more than well. He'd patched him up and bought him ice cream. He'd been cared for. James noticed tears welling up in his eyes and glanced in the mirror to observe this reaction.
He stared as silent tears fell down his face. He noticed the band-aids on his arm, then he realized.
For the first time in his life, he'd felt cared for.
He wiped the tears away from his eyes, letting out a frustrated breath. Why was he crying? Michael was nice to him. Michael was so nice to him, and he was crying.
James took a deep breath. He tilted his head upwards and let the sounds of Elton John fill his ears. It calmed him down. Knowing it was Michael's favorite song comforted him. He took another deep breath.
After calming down, he went downstairs for a glass of water. He ran the tap, watching the glass cup fill up to the brim before shutting off the faucet.
He took a sip, letting the cool water calm down his heated body temperature. He would dissect why he had cried later, right now he needed a distraction. Michael had been on his mind for 2 days, and while having a crush was exhilarating, it was also exhausting. He began to think of ways to distract himself, but was interrupted by his sister running past him and into the living room.
"Mom! Flip on the cartoons, my favorite show is on!" She screamed.
James groaned. There goes his distraction. Once his sister got hold of the TV it was hers until she was done with it. Although she was only 12, she was a force to be reckoned with. As the youngest, she was spoiled. Not to say that James wasn't, but now that he was older he was expected to spoil himself.
He finished his glass of water and threw his head back. He let out a long sigh. A nap would be nice if he could trick himself into falling asleep, but that seemed almost impossible. His stomach was full of butterflies, they fluttered around and turned his face pink.
James filled his cup with water again. He took a sip and a deep breath.
"You okay honey?" His mother asked.
"Yeah, why do you ask?" He responded.
"You're just sighing a ton. Glad you're drinking water though." She said.
"Yeah, you dehydrated carrot." His little sister interrupted.
"Oh shove it, Heather." James retorted playfully.
Heather blew a raspberry at him. James laughed.
He put his cup on the counter and retreated to his bedroom. He changed into sweatpants before laying flat on his bed, chest upward and heaving.
His breath was fast and shaky. He was not going to cry, no he wasn't. He sat up and wiped the tears off his face. No, this was not going to be how he reacted after hanging out with Michael.
But he was so nice, and James finally felt cared for. Maybe it was okay to cry this time. He broke down why he was crying, coming to the conclusion of too many emotions all at once, which made sense. He let himself cry, realizing that he was crying because of a good thing. He was cared for by someone. He trusted someone and felt comfortable around him.
James took a deep breath before putting his headphones on. He pressed play and smiled. "You Really Got Me" by Van Halen played extremely loudly in his ears, causing him to leap up out of his bed. He glanced in the mirror, his face red from crying and smiling wide.
Oh yeah, you really got me no-ow. You got me so I don't know what I'm doin'.
James danced stupidly, singing loudly along to the words. He jumped up and down, shaking his hips and kicking his feet.
He danced throughout the entire song, falling onto his bed once it ended. "Reel Around the Fountain" by The Smiths was next.
Fifteen minutes with you, I couldn't say no
Oh. This song greatly contrasted the song before it.
People said that you were virtually dead, and they were so wrong
James blushed. He was too exhausted to cry again, but he closed his eyes. It was only 7 pm, but he felt like it was much later. Falling asleep now wouldn't be ideal. He hadn't had dinner and the ice cream was only ice cream; it wasn't very filling.
He ignored that fact though, and dozed off to The Smiths.
He awoke to "Drive" by The Cars, and quickly sat up to check the time. 7:47 pm. His mother usually had dinner ready by 8 pm. Perfect.
He got up and stretched, pulling his headphones around his neck. He had paused the music, but kept the player in his pocket. His mother would probably scold him, but he didn't care. The music to him was a piece of Michael, and he wanted that boy as close to him as possible. He giggled at himself.
James walked downstairs, seeing his sister in the middle of setting the table. She gave him a dirty look when he arrived in the kitchen. He smiled smugly before standing next to his mother as she cooked.
"Watcha making?" He asked.
"Soup." She said as she stirred the pot. It looked like chicken noodle, and James smiled.
"Ooh, my favorite." He giggled.
"Yup, now outta the kitchen." She said sternly. James laughed and kissed her on the cheek.
"Yeah, you carrot." Heather said. "I had to set the table all by myself." She complained.
"What's with this carrot nickname?" James ruffled her hair. "And if you can watch the TV for 3 hours straight, you can set the table. You're a big girl." He said.
Heather stepped on his foot. James groaned and clutched his chest like he'd been shot. "Oh god, your stomp was so strong. I'm…" He staggered backwards. "I'm dying." He exaggerated.
Heather laughed. "Oh shut up." She said, shoving him. James gasped before picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder. She kicked and laughed, pounding on his back.
"Okay, kids. Dinner!" Their mother called.
Heather wrestled her way out of James’s grip and ran to the dinner table. James followed after, not running, and grabbed a can of soda.
"So how was Michael?" His mother asked once they began eating.
"Oooh, who's Michael?" Heather asked, wiggling her eyebrows.
"Shut up, Heather. He's my friend, I met him the other day on the bus." James said, his face pink.
Heather nodded with her lips pursed. "Suuure." She said. James kicked her under the table. She kicked him back.
"Stop it you two." Their mother said sternly. "How was your day Heather?"
"Good! I watched my new cartoon. I can't wait to talk about it tomorrow with my friends." She smiled.
"What was it about?" James asked.
Heather excitedly explained the plot of her favorite show, James half listening as he'd heard it about 50 times before every time there was a new episode.
They all finished dinner, making small conversation and telling jokes. They were a happy family most of the time, but they all had their flaws. Sometimes James’s mother would yell at him when yelling was not needed, and she would ignore and minimize most of his problems. She tried, but she still had a long way to go. Heather was good most of the time, but like all younger sisters, she had her moments. She'd be stubborn and petty, and she'd push every single one of James’s buttons. But hey, that was family.
"James? You with us?" His mother said.
James shook the sleep from his eyes. "Wha?" He said.
"God, you're tired." His mother laughed.
James laughed half heartedly. He cleared his plate and kissed his mother goodnight.
He dragged himself up the stairs and put his headphones back on. "Drive" resumed playing. He flopped onto his bed, immediately closing his eyes. He thought about Michael and the day he'd had. He thought about what Michael had said on the swings yesterday and how he had given him his hoodie. His face got warm and he let himself smile.
He really liked Michael. Like a lot. He couldn't tell if he liked him back, but he didn't know if he'd even want that yet. Yes, he did want him and definitely he had a crush on him, but he needed to know him more before even thinking about dating him. And he felt like Michael needed to know him more too. James promised himself that he'd tell Michael more about him, even if it was boring.
He drifted off into sleep, his headphones still on and playing his music.
James woke up in his bedroom. The clock read 9:06 am. It was a Wednesday, but his school had off for in service. He brought his attention to the CD mix Michael had made him. He had given it to him before he left his house yesterday and he had yet to listen to it.
He placed the CD in his player and plugged in his headphones. He sat on his bed, still in his pj’s. He couldn’t stop thinking about Michael. This boy had made a permanent stay in James’s mind. He was kind and caring. He listened when James spoke, instead of brushing him off like everyone else does. He had given James his hoodie, which he still wore. It smelled of him, cigarettes and weed and paint. He hadn’t taken it off, finding he felt odd when he did. He was obsessed with this boy.
He took a breath before pressing play. “I Want to Know What Love Is” by Foreigner began playing.
Oh, god. Why did Michael put a love song on his mix. James sat and listened, his mouth slightly agape.
…I wanna know what love is, I want you to show me…
James couldn’t do this. He fell backwards back onto his pillow, covering his beet red face with his hands.
…I wanna feel what love is, I know you can show me…
Why did Michael put this on here. There had to be a reason, he made it the first song for a reason.
A thought entered James’s mind and danced around his brain as the song continued to play.
He imagined Michael. He imagined hugging him, kissing him, holding his hand. Dancing with him, playing with his hair, cuddling him. He thought about how his bare skin would feel on his, about how his hands would feel holding his waist. He wondered what he felt like, what he tasted like. His face heated up.
James shut the CD player off, the song stopped. His heart was racing. He slowly sat up and curled his knees into his chest. Why was he thinking this way? He never had thought that way about anyone. He knew it was normal, his mother had given him that talk ages ago. He was more confused as to why he was feeling this way about Michael. He had just met him, was he that desperate for attention? That desperate for validation?
That was enough thinking for this morning. He hopped out of bed and shuffled downstairs. He opened his fridge but just stared at it. He still thought about Michael. About him hugging James from behind and how Michael’s head would rest perfectly on his shoulder. About how he would hum a love song and sway James back and forth until they were both slow dancing in the kitchen.
James shut the fridge door. Okay, so no fridge.
He flopped himself down on the couch and flicked on the TV. It was another rerun of Full House. He watched, and just his luck, it was the episode where Jesse and Becky fall in love. He watched the screen as the characters hugged and kissed and you guessed it, he thought about Michael. He groaned and shut the TV off. Everything reminded him of this stupid, arrogant, cute boy. Frustrated, he shoved his Converse on and exited his house. He needed some fresh air.
He shoved his hands in Michael’s hoodie pockets as he walked around his neighborhood. He breathed in the scent of the hoodie, the weed smell almost suffocating.
He brought his CD player out of his pocket. It still had his mix in it. James pressed play, hoping that the change of setting would ward off the thoughts he was having. “I Want to Know What Love Is” resumed, and James skipped it. “True Colors” By Cyndi Lauper began playing. This one was okay.
He thought about how Michael had sung this song when he made him his sandwich yesterday. His voice wasn’t perfect in any sense, but James swore he could listen to it on repeat.
He shook his head as if to shake the thoughts away. There was no denying he had a crush on this boy, but to be thinking about him this frequently was embarrassing. He continued his walk, trying to keep Michael off his mind. He arrived back at his house to see his mother making breakfast.
“Hey James! Where were you?” She asked.
“Just on a walk.” James brought his headphones around his neck and sat down at the breakfast bar.
“Where’d that hoodie come from?” She asked. So many questions.
“Somebody at school. A friend.” James said.
“Ooooh, a friend?” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.
“Mooom,” James whined. His face went red as he put his head down on the table. How did mom’s always know?
“I’m just kidding.” She ruffled his hair. “So you made a friend?”
“Well don’t sound surprised.” James said after picking his head up. “But yes, I did. His name is Michael.”
“That’s amazing!” She smiled.
“Yeah, he pierced my ear.” James said. He tucked his hair behind his ears to show his mother.
“Oh, right! I was supposed to take you to get that.” She snapped her fingers.
“It’s okay.” James said sympathetically.
“Ugh. Well it looks amazing sweetheart.” She said, turning back to the stove.
“Thanks mom.” James said.
He watched as his mother made breakfast. It was scrambled eggs and bacon. James was hardly thinking about breakfast though, as he found his mind wandering again. He thought about Michael's hair and how it bounced when he walked. He thought about how he would always use his arms when he spoke and how he was always smiling. He thought about how his cigarettes look in between his lips, and how James found it oddly attractive when he'd exhale puffs of smoke.
"Hello, Earth to James." His mother interrupted, waving her hand in front of his face.
"Sorry, zoned out there." James laughed softly.
"No kidding. Here's breakfast." She placed a plate of bacon and eggs in front of him. James thanked her and ate slowly. He glanced at the clock. 11:30am.
Maybe if he visited him. Maybe if he just hung out with him he'd lose this crush on him. Yeah, if he just goes over there and hangs out with him maybe he'd forget all this stupid crush stuff.
James’s mother laughed. "Rad indeed." She said, pretending to mock her son.
James finished his meal and went upstairs to get changed. He figured it'd be weird to show up in Michael's hoodie, so he threw on an orange hoodie. He matched it with acid washed jeans and gray striped socks. He put his Converse on once he got downstairs and waved his mother goodbye.
James began walking to Michael's house. He wasn't even sure he was home. He hadn't even checked if it was okay to hang out with him. What if he had something planned? What if he was too busy hanging out with someone else?
James shook his head. No, Michael was his friend. He had made him a CD mix and given him his hoodie. They were friends, this is what friends do.
He arrived at his house and knocked on the door. Michael's mother answered. She looked surprised.
"Uh, hi. I'm James?" James said.
"Oh James! It's nice to meet you! My son told me about you." She smiled warmly. "Come on in."
James blushed. Michael had told his mom about him.
He stepped into the threshold and followed Michael's mother in the living room.
"How's your morning been? Would you like some coffee?" She asked.
"No thank you."James politely declined.
She poured herself a cup and sat down on the couch.
"Michael is in his room. He should be up by now, if not just shake him really hard." She said.
"Thank you, Ms…." James trailed off.
"Ms. Garcia." She smiled.
"Ms. Garcia. Thank you." James smiled.
He began his way up the stairs, grilling his brain to remember which room was Michael's. He'd only seen his bathroom yesterday. Luckily for him, he didn't need to look hard.
"Tonight the music seems so loud!" Michael belted from his room. “I wish that we could lo-ose this crowd,”
James singled out his room as the first one on the left. He knocked on the door only for it to creak open in it's own.
"Baby, it's better this way. We'd hurt each other with the things we want to say!" Michael sang loudly and from his chest. He had his arms outstretched and was gesturing wildly. His knees were bent slightly, almost like he was begging to someone who wasn't there. He was facing the opposite direction of James, so he hadn't seen him open the door. His music was so loud in his headphones James could hear it from where he was standing.
"We could've been so good together! We could've danced this dance forever! But now, who's gonna dance with me? Please sta-ay!" Michael sang.
James blushed. He sounded good when he sang. His voice was strong and full of emotion.
"And I'm never gonna dance again," Michael spun around to face where James was standing. "Guilty feet have got no…" He trailed off when he noticed James. He stopped singing and pulled his headphones around his neck. He was wearing a white tank top with a flannel tied around his waist. He wore gray sweatpants and plain white socks. His hair was up in a tiny bun.
"I'm so sorry, I really shouldn't've opened your door. I didn't mean to actually, it just opened when I knocked. I'm really sorry. You sounded really good though, from what I heard, even though I shouldn't've been listening. I'm sorry." James blushed and spoke quickly.
"Oh, lighten up." Michael teased. "I don't care if you saw me sing." He noticed James's still embarrassed demeanor. "It's okay." He reassured him genuinely.
James sighed. "Sorry." He breathed.
"Don't be." Michael chuckled. “Anyways, you’re at my house!”
It sounded more like a question than a statement.
“Yeah, I’m sorry I just kinda showed up. I just thought it’d be cool to hang out?” James asked.
“Oh, hell yeah man. I just got that new game, Street Fighter. Wanna play?” Michael said. He gestured for James to enter his room. He took a step forward.
“Yeah, I’m down.” James said, looking around at Michael’s room.
Michael’s room looked like every teenage boy's room. He had band and movie posters on every inch of wall space, ranging from Elton John to Guns n Roses to Bonnie Tyler. He had a CD player and what seemed to be a million CDs on his desk. His room was fairly clean, only a few pairs of socks lay spread across the floor. His room was cluttered, clothes and photos and CDs and vinyl records and headphones took up most of his desk and table space. His bed had no headboard and striped sheets. His pillows looked like they’d been through hell, smushed and flat. His blanket was the same pattern as an arcade floor. He had a tan landline phone on his bedside table. It looked like it’d barely been used. He had a hardwood floor and a small black carpet that sat before his TV. His TV sat on a wide wooden shelf, dozens of video game cases shoved into the shelves. Michael had a fresh looking Atari console and two controllers. One of the controllers looked tattered, the other one was essentially collecting dust. A beanbag was placed close to the TV, a permanent seat molded into it, presumingly by Michael.
“Nice room.” James said, attempting small talk.
Michael scoffed. “It’s a mess.”
“No, it’s nice! I like it.” James argued.
“Well, thank you.” Michael said, pulling the case for Street Fighter off of the shelf.
The two boys sat down on the floor of Michael’s room. James held the less tattered controller and folded his legs criss-cross. Michael sat with one knee bent and the other extended.
The two played video games for about an hour, laughing and throwing fake insults at each other. James loosened up, relaxing his muscles. It wasn’t awkward anymore, he had almost forgotten about his situation. Almost.
“Haha, eat shit Michael.” James said, knocking the other boy's character in the game.
“Oh fuck you,” Michael laughed, shoving James playfully.
“Gonna play that game?” James said, pushing him back.
Michael looked at James with wild eyes before slamming into him and knocking him into the ground.
James yelped before laughing, delivering soft blows to Michael’s arms and kicking him. Michael grabbed James’s wrists and pinned them above his head. James struggled helplessly.
“Is that all you’ve got?” Michael chuckled, hovering over James.
James laughed. “You wish.” Then he noticed their current position.
Michael had James pinned on the ground. He was straddled over him, his hands holding James’s wrists. Michael was smiling, the strands of hair that hadn’t made it into his ponytail framing his face. His breathing was labored slightly. James let out a breathless laugh. His heart was racing. Oh my god Michael was literally sitting on top of him oh my god. He was sure his face was every shade of red, he just hoped it could be blamed on the small amount of physical activity he had to endure and his acne.
The two just sat there like that for what felt like forever to James. The soundtrack from Street Fighter started up in the background causing Michael to let go of James’s wrists and grab his controller. He removed himself from on top of James to sit next to him again. He glanced over to James, raising an eyebrow signifying the question for another round. James smiled and grabbed his controller.
Another two hours passed by, filled by shouting and tackling.
Michael threw his head back laughing. “How are you so bad?”
James snorted. “Oh shut up, I beat you like four times.” He said.
Michael chuckled. “Do you want some lunch?”
James only just noticed how hungry he was. “Sure.”
He followed Michael down to the kitchen.
“So, I’ve got some TV dinner if you like those.” He said.
“TV dinners?” James asked.
“You’ve never had a TV dinner?” Michael exclaimed.
James turned red. "No."
"You're missing out big time, man." Michael said, popping one in the microwave.
The two made small talk until the dinner finished heating.
"It's gonna be hot, so let it cool." He warned, before placing another one in the microwave.
James sat and waited, blowing air onto his food to cool it down. Once it cooled down, he took a bite. It was mashed potatoes, green beans, and chicken nuggets. It wasn't good, but Michael was looking at James so excitedly that he'd feel bad to say anything other than "It's really good!".
"See! I told you." Michael said, taking a bite of his own food.
The two sat and ate.
"Can't believe you beat me. Seven times." Michael laughed.
"Just get good." James retorted.
"Oh, shut up." Michael giggled.
"I'll shut up when you beat me." James said, taking a bite of his food.
"Oh really?" Michael asked.
"Yes really!"
"Well, it's gonna happen. One day, I'll beat you. One da-"
"One day in the far, far, far, far, far, far, future. Like super far. Like m-" James interrupted.
"Shut up! No, it'll be soon!" Michael laughed.
James giggled.
They talked and finished their food.
"What d'you wanna do now?" Michael asked.
"Can we skateboard again? Your neighborhood is beautiful." James said.
"Do you want me to teach you to skate?" The other boy asked.
"Sure. I'm a slow learner-" James started.
"Not when I'm the teacher." Michael flaunted.
James failed to hide in a laugh. He snorted.
"What?" Michael asked, throwing his arms up in fake defense.
"Nothing. Let's get learnin'.'' James said.
Michael chuckled and grabbed his skateboard. He stepped outside and put his skateboard on the ground. It was about 2:30pm. The sky was full of clouds, but the sun always seemed to be shining.
"Okay, so you wanna start with your right foot," Michael instructed.
James put his foot on the board, putting his arms out for balance.
"Perfect, then just push off with your left foot and then put it on the board. Then just go with it." Michael said, stepping closer to James.
"You'll catch me if I fall, right?" James asked nervously.
"Yeah, of course." Michael reassured him.
"Okay." James breathed out.
He pushed off nervously, yelping quietly when the board picked up speed.
"You're doing amazing!" Michael said, jogging beside him.
"I'm doing amazing!" James repeated, before losing his balance. He fell, sticking out his hands to brace his fall. He scraped the palms of his hands and his elbow. He shouted out in surprise.
"James!" Michael yelled, worried. "Shit, are you okay?" He bent down and helped James sit up.
James was laughing. "I'm fine." He said.
"You're shaking." Michael said. He was worried.
"I'm fine, I promise. Just a little surprised." James said, reassuring him.
"Let's go get you fixed up, you big…" He faltered at calling him a name. "Just come on," He helped James stand up.
James smiled at Michael as he walked next to him. He was so kind. He clearly cared about James very much. But it felt good to finally be cared about by someone who wasn't his family.
"I have cool band-aids if you want them." Michael said. He hadn't let James fix himself, he had insisted that he clean the wound and dress it.
They were sitting in Michael's living room, both on the couch. Michael had brought out his first aid kit and placed it on the coffee table.
"I could've done this, y'know." James said.
"No, I should've caught you and if I couldn't do that, then I can at least fix it." Michael said insistently.
"Don't stress out over it, Michael. I'm fine." James reassured him.
Michael furrowed his brow.
He bandaged the other boy's palms and elbow.
"There. Are you okay?" Michael asked.
James rolled his eyes affectionately. "I'm fine. You worry too much."
"I just wanna make sure you're okay." He said. Michael kept to himself the feeling bad part.
"And I'm perfectly fine." James said.
"Well, we're not going back to skating. There's no way." Michael said.
"Then can you skate? It was so fun yesterday." James pleaded. He batted his eyelashes mockingly.
Michael fidgeted nervously. "I guess, but you're going in front."
James smiled.
The two walked outside. James was the first to step on the skateboard, Michael grabbing his waist quickly.
"I'm fine!" James insisted.
Michael grumbled. He stepped on, grabbing tightly onto James’s waist to keep him steady. James blushed.
Michael accelerated, holding tightly to James. "Where do you wanna go?"
"Anywhere." James said, leaning his head on Michael.
"Well, that's not helpful." Michael laughed.
"Well, where do you wanna go?" James asked.
"Uhm," Michael stuttered.
"See, it's hard when you're put on the spot." James said. He nudged Michael softly.
"Don't move, you'll fall." Michael said sternly.
James giggled.
The two just skated for a while. They traveled around Michael's neighborhood and into a more populated area with stores and restaurants.
"Ice cream!" James exclaimed, pointing to an ice cream shop to the left.
"Do you want some?" Michael asked.
James nodded eagerly.
Michael pulled to a stop in front of the shop. It was called John's Ice Cream Parlor. Straight and to the point.
"Have you ever been here before?" Michael asked.
"No. I just saw ice cream and got excited." James said simply.
Michael laughed and pushed him softly. James laughed in return.
James ordered a strawberry scoop and Michael ordered chocolate and vanilla swirl.
They got their orders and sat down. The sun beat down on them, melting their ice cream and making them lick faster.
Michael began giggling.
"What?" James asked, a smile on his face.
"Nothing you just," He began laughing again.
"Tell me!" James asked, laughing.
"C'mere," Michael smiled. He leaned forward and grabbed James’s face. He blushed. Michael held his jaw and used his thumb to wipe ice cream off of the other boy's face.
James’s face was beet red.
Your face is so red right now," Michael laughed gently.
"It’s the sun," James lied, covering his face with his hand.
Michael laughed into a sigh before finishing his cone.
James finished his cone shortly after, and the two boys began walking around town. They passed shops and stores and restaurants, laughing and bumping into each other as they walked.
James wanted so badly to hold Michael's hand. Turns out, the whole 'hanging out with him to forget his crush on him' thing hadn't worked at all. If anything it'd made it worse. Michael looked so good. Well good was an understatement. James didn't think he could find a word to accurately describe Michael in a way that would do him justice.
"Do you think worms think?" Michael asked.
James turned to look at him. It had been silent for a few minutes, Michael had interrupted the silence with his question.
"What?" James said, erupting in laughter.
"Do worms think or do they just mindlessly wiggle around in dirt?" Michael asked through small laughter.
chapter 2 of the gay 80s story! i promise i'll come up with a title eventually
chap 1
Chapter 2
James strided down the hallway to eighth period. He had gym, which was thrilling. Well, it wasn’t gym yet. They wouldn’t be doing actual exercises until next month, then they’d move back to health in the winter.
He saw Michael first, sitting at the desk in the back row. He waved, walking back and choosing the seat to the right of him.
"You excited to pierce your ears?" Michael asked. He bounced his leg excitedly, though James didn't know if this was an all the time occurrence.
"A bit nervous-" James started.
"Don't be." Michael was quick to assure him. "It only hurts really bad when you actually pierce it, but after that it's just more annoying than painful."
James nodded. "So where would you pierce it?"
Michael shrugged. "Wherever you want it pierced."
James pointed to the middle of his cartilage. "Here."
Michael took a closer look. "Yeah, that's possible."
James smiled.
The teacher called the class to attention. She droned on about the importance of exercising and the principles of training. It was boring. They'd learned this stuff freshman year, and while they didn't necessarily want to do more work, they were tired of being fed the same things every year.
Michael fought the urge to fall asleep the entire class, not writing down half of the notes and doodling on his paper.
The bell rang, and Michael shoved his paper into his backpack. He stood up and slung his backpack over his shoulder, then stood idle waiting for James.
James on the other hand, put his paper into a folder and then in his backpack. He stood up with his backpack and looked at Michael.
"First, the Music Store." Michael announced. He took the first step forward, leaving James to follow him.
"Okay, so first we need to get you some good headphones." Michael said as they walked.
"How do I know if they're good?" James asked.
"I'll tell you." Michael said.
After a few more minutes of walking they arrived at the store. Michael held the door open for James. They both entered and Michael immediately took to the shelves.
"Okay, so they have these new models that just started selling, and those are pretty good. A friend of mine got them and let me try them. Pretty rad. But these." He grabbed a pair off the shelf. "These are what you want."
James stepped closer. "What are they."
"Only the best headphones ever." He exaggerated. "They have a specific design on the cushion that makes it so your ear has room, contrast to what I have. So you can wear them longer without your ears hurting." He looked at the box, smiling. "And the quality." He chef kissed. "Amazing. You're gonna want these."
James took the box. "You seem pretty excited about them, why don't you take them?"
Michael shook his head. "I couldn't. You should have them. I insist."
James figured there was no point in fighting him and kept the headphones.
"Okay, next. A CD player." Michael said. He ventured over to the other side of the store. He browsed, James following close behind even though he didn't know what he was looking for.
"Here, get this one. People say it sucks but it's got the longest battery life for a two jack player." Michael guestered to the two headphone jacks on the side. "And the buttons on it click like butter."
James took the CD player. "This is too much, I can't let you buy me this." His face was red.
"Well too bad because you're getting it anyway." Michael insisted. "You deserve to have a music playing device. I don't know how you've gotten this far without one, to be honest."
"Fine, I don't think I'll win this argument." James said. Michael smiled smugly.
The two of them checked out, Michael pulling together just enough money for the products. They left the store and began en route to Michael’s house.
"Try it out." Michael said.
"I don't have any CD's." James stated.
Michael rummaged through his backpack. "Here." He handed James "The Joshua Tree".
"Nuh uh, no way. You stood in line for three hours for that one." James said. "I can't take it. Besides, you've already given me enough, I'd feel bad."
"Yup, and I'll stand in line for three more hours to get another one." Michael stated, keeping his hand outstretched.
James sighed. "What're you gonna do if I don't take it."
Michael thought for a second. "Nothing really. I'd just give you another one of my CDs."
James thought for a minute before taking the CD. Michael smiled.
James put the CD in his new player. He watched as Michael fished his own headphones out of his backpack. James did the same, unboxing his new headphones and plugging them into the first jack. He plugged Michael’s into the second.
"With or Without You" began playing. Michael bopped his head along to the beat.
They arrived at Michael's house. James pocketed his device and put his headphones around his neck.
Michael led James into his bathroom. He opened up the first cabinet drawer to reveal an array of piercing needles.
"Okay, sit down." Michael ordered. He was standing at his radio.
James sat down in the chair the other boy had placed there.
"So first I'm gonna clean it off." Michael said calmly. He took a sterile alcohol wipe and cleaned the place where he planned to pierce.
"This isn't the needle, this is a Sharpie." He said. He placed a small dot on James's ear.
"Here good?" Michael let James stand up to see his reflection in the mirror. James nodded.
Michael repeated the dot in the same place on the other ear.
"Okay, so I'm gonna put some ice on your ear to numb it, so it might be really cold for a bit." Michael said. He bent down close to James's ear. He smelled of cigarettes and cheap cologne. He pressed the ice cube to James’s ear.
"Okay breathe in," He said cautiously. James breathed in.
Michael stuck the needle through James’s ear. James tensed. He shut his eyes tight and gripped the side of the chair.
Michael put the earring through and fastened a backing onto it.
"Sick, first one done." He said.
James let out a shaky breath. He half-heartedly cheered.
Michael repeated the process with his other ear. It hurt more than the other ear and James felt himself becoming light headed.
"Nice, both are done." Michael said. "How do you- woah you don't look so hot."
James shook his head. His eyelids became droopy and his vision got spotty.
"Stay with me man, hey hey." Michael said. He grabbed James by the shoulders, shaking him gently. James grabbed onto Michael's arms limply in an attempt to ground himself.
James couldn't hear him. His vision totally blacked out and he stopped processing the things around him.
"Shit shit shit." Michael repeated. He grabbed the hand towel behind him and doused it in water. He placed the towel on the back of James's neck. He gently blew cool air onto his face with his mouth. With one hand he held James’s head in an upright position, and with the other hand he held onto his arm.
James eventually came to. His head hurt like a bitch. The first thing he registered was a damp paper towel on his neck, the next was Michael blowing air into his face. He realized how close Michael was to him, making his face a bit redder than it already was.
"Hey, you're back!" Michael said. He was smiling. "You passed out on me."
"Sorry." James said.
"You're fine. Happened to me with this one." He pointed to his third piercing on his left ear. "Let's get you something to eat."
Michael helped James up, holding tightly to his arm while he regained balance.
Michael sat him down in a kitchen chair and handed him some water, encouraging him to drink it. After seeing that he did, he turned around and proceeded to make James a sandwich.
"You like ham and cheese?" He asked.
"Yeah, that's fine." James said.
Michael sang along to the radio. Cydni Lauper was playing. "True Colors". Michael knew every word.
He served James his sandwich and sat across from him as he ate.
"Drink your water." Michael said, noticing the half drunk glass.
"I did." James said.
"All of it." Michael ordered.
James rolled his eyes.
"You just passed out! Drink your water." Michael said. He reached forward to push James's glass closer to him.
James drank it all. "Happy now?"
Michael smiled. "Ecstatic. Let's go get some fresh air." He grabbed his skateboard.
"I can't skate." James said.
"Who said you'd be the one skating?" Michael said.
James followed him outside, confused.
Michael got on his skateboard. "Grab on."
"You're insane." James said.
"No, I'm Michael. Now grab on." Michael insisted.
James nervously stepped behind Michael and onto the skateboard. The skateboard wasn't big, forcing him close to him. James clung tightly to Michael's waist and placed his chin on his shoulder.
"You'll be fiiiine." Michael said.
He kicked off, picking up speed quickly. James yelped and tightened his grip. He moved his head to face Michael's neck, blocking out his vision. After a few seconds, he dared to open his eyes. It wasn't so bad. He kept his grip on Michael's waist tenacious, but picked up his head to observe his surroundings.
Michael's neighborhood was beautiful. It was surrounded by thick forest. The trees let through golden rays of sunshine that flashed on James and Michael's faces as they sped by. The wind blew James' hair back and felt good on his freshly pierced ears. He felt the warmth from Michael's neck on his cheek and could feel the vibrations from his seemingly silent humming. James didn't know what he was humming, but the song sounded wonderful.
Michael kept his pace steady. He outstretched his arms and wiggled his fingers through the wind.
"Feels good." He said.
"Yeah." James agreed.
"Where do you wanna go?" Michael asked.
"I didn't know we were going somewhere. Where would we go." James said.
"There's a park up the road here. I used to go there all the time when I was a kid." Michael said.
"Sure." James said. He kept his arms around Michael's waist until he arrived at the park.
It was golden hour, and one look at James’s face could prove that. The rays of sun emphasized the golden highlights in his dirty blonde hair. He turned his head to look around, giving Michael a sure view of his face from the side. His jawline was soft but defined. His adam's apple was small, similar to the rest of his proportions. His nose was sloped and small, hooking up the smallest bit. He smiled, his dimples making themselves known.
"It's a nice park." James's voice interrupted Michael's thoughts.
"Yeah, my dad used to bring me here a ton when I was younger." Michael said. He sat down on one of the swings and swung himself slightly. James sat next to him.
"Tell me more about yourself." Michael said. He spoke softer than he usually did.
"There's not really much to say." James said.
"Tell me something stupid you used to do as a kid." He asked.
"Uhm, when I was younger I fell out of a tree and broke my arm." James tried.
"See, that's something." Michael smiled. He pulled out his pack of Malboros and began smoking a cigarette.
"Yeah but it's not anything interesting." James laughed.
"It doesn't have to be." Michael said. He didn't look at James, just stared blankly ahead. James turned his head to look at him. His face was blank as he smoked, only moving to take puffs from his cigarette. James just looked at him. He was definitely something to look at. His blonde hair was a contrast to his dark skin. He wore several layers at a time, a shirt, hoodie, and a jacket all occupying his body at once. He had freckles that danced whenever he moved his face, and a small scar on his right cheek. He had acne scars littered across his face.
James shivered. The sun had gone down and it had started to get cold. Next to him, Michael removed his hoodie, holding his cigarette between his lips. It was a plain brown hoodie with a faded mechanic shop logo, the variety in his outfit coming from his jacket. He looked at James when he handed it to him.
"Here." He said. He exhaled puffs of smoke.
"No, it's fine. I'm not cold." James lied.
"You're shivering." Michael responded.
"You're shivering." James mocked, taking the hoodie from Michael. Michael laughed.
James put the hoodie on. It smelled like tobacco and weed. It was warm though, and James didn't mind the smell. It was two sizes too big for him and he pulled the sleeves over his hands.
"How are you so warm?" James asked. He wasn't lying, Michael's hoodie radiated warmth up to his ears.
"Just am." Michael laughed. “I’ve always been a walking furnace.”
“Good to know.” James chuckled.
They sat in a comfortable silence.
“You’re easy to talk to, James.” Michael announced.
James was surprised. “Really?”
Michael nodded. He puffed smoke before speaking.
“I usually don’t warm up to people this fast. I barely give people my hoodies or share my music or pierce people’s ears.” He explained.
“Are you saying I’m lucky?” James asked.
“I’m saying you’re special, James.” Michael said bluntly.
James sat in silence. His heart raced.
“People don’t usually talk to me.” James said.
Michael didn’t respond.
“They usually just dismiss me or flat out ignore me. I always had to lie to my mom about having friends so she wouldn’t think I was crazy or messed up.” James took a deep breath. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you this-”
“Keep telling me about it.” Michael interrupted.
“I’m glad I met you Michael.”
Michael looked up at the mention of his name. He dropped and stepped on his cigarette, smiling.
okay guys heres the first chapter of the gay 80s story. it does not have a name yet sooo
enjoy :]
chap 2
Chapter 1
Michael stood at his bus stop, the August air warm around him. Despite him owning a car, he still insisted on taking the bus to school each morning. He reset the CD in his walkman, "Time After Time" by Cyndi Lauper playing at an unreasonably loud volume for a Tuesday morning. He took a final puff from his cigarette before tossing it on the ground and stepping on it.
Across the neighborhood, another boy stood at a bus stop. His name was James, and he was nervous. School had always made him nervous. He didn't necessarily have friends, or at least people he could call friends. He knew kids, sure, but not enough to call them friends.
Michael's bus pulled up, the exhaust making clouds behind it. He boarded and swung his backpack into the first empty seat. Usually, he would abide by the "cool kids in the back and lame kids in the front" rule, but it was his last year of high school and frankly, he just didn't care anymore. He tapped his fingers to the beat of the song he was listening to. It had switched from Cyndi Lauper to The Police. “Every Breath You Take”.
The bus pulled to a stop and Michael spotted a particularly nervous looking boy. He fidgeted with his backpack straps and kept glancing up and down the street, as if he was expecting someone. He boarded, scanning the bus to see that every seat was taken.
The boy looked at Michael and moved his mouth. Was there supposed to be words? Michael realized and pulled his headphones down.
“Huh?” He asked.
“Can I sit here?” The boy repeated. His face was red.
“Oh, yeah. Sure.” Michael said. He moved his backpack onto his lap and paused his Walkman. He noticed the second headphone jack.
“Do you have headphones?” He asked. “Just got the newest model.” He gestured to his Walkman.
The boy shook his head yes. He fished a pair of headphones out of his backpack. They looked like they’d been through hell. The wire had frayed in multiple spots and it was being held together by duct tape.
“Damn.” Michael said. “How long have you had those?”
“A while. They were my moms until she got new ones, then she gave them to me.” The boy said.
“I’ll buy you new ones.” Michael said.
“Really? You don’t have to.” The boy said. His face was red again.
“Actually, I do. There’s no way I’m letting you walk around with those. We can go after school today.” Michael said.
“I’m Michael by the way.” He said.
“James.” The boy said.
Michael plugged James’s headphone jack into his Walkman.
“Okay, so I’ve got most of the classics, The Police, Cyndi Lauper, U2, Elton John.” Michael sorted through his CDs.
“Elton John is nice.” James said.
“So you’re an Elton John kinda guy, I see.” Michael said. James smiled and nodded. He took out “Madman Across the Water”' and put the CD in his Walkman. “Tiny Dancer” began playing.
“This ones my favourite.” James stated. He hummed along with the song.
“Yeah, Elton John knew what he was doing.” Michael laughed. “I like ‘Your Song’.”
“You’re a love song kinda guy?” James asked.
“Haha, yeah. You never know, I guess.” Michael said.
The two made small talk until the bus arrived at school. The sun was up now, the yellow rays shooting into the boy's eyes. Michael turned off his Walkman, handing James his busted headphones back and pocketing the device.
“Where’s your first class?” Michael asked.
“Second floor, 3rd door on the left.” James recalled from his memory.
“I’ll walk ya there,” Michael said.
“Oh, you don’t need to.” James said. His face was pink.
“Well I’m gonna.” Michael said. “And you can’t change my mind.”
James chuckled. “Fine.”
James observed Michael’s ear. He had at least 6 piercings in one ear, 3 on his lobe and 3 in varying spots on his cartilage.
“Did it hurt?” James asked.
“What, when I fell from heaven?” Michael asked.
James became flustered.
“Uh, well, no, I-” He stuttered.
Michael playfully shoved James’s shoulder. “I’m just messin’ with you. Did what hurt?”
James let out a breath. “Your ear. Did it hurt to pierce it?”
“Oh, these?” He tucked his hair behind his ear, giving James a clearer look at the piercings. “At first yeah, but after a while they stopped.”
“Can you pierce my ears?” James asked.
“Woah, really?” Michael asked.
James’s face turned pink. “Yeah, I’ve always wanted them pierced but never had the time to. I figured if we’re buying headphones today, we can just hang after and you can do it then.”
Michael’s face lit up. “Yeah man, of course! We can stop at my place after, I have the needles.”
“Sick.” James said.
The two wandered the halls for a bit. They both had Study Hall first period and the early bell hadn’t even rung yet. They talked about themselves for a bit.
“Wait, you’re telling me you died for like 4 mintues and then just, came back?” James said.
“Yup, never been in a pool since; Mother Dearest won’t let me.” Michael said, extending his arms as if it’s something to be proud of. “Also it tells funny stories.”
James chuckled.
“Your turn. What about you, James Walker.” Michael asked.
James thought for a minute.
“I made Honor Roll all through middle school.” He said.
“Oh c’mon, give me something better than that.” Michael said, pushing him on the shoulder. “Like, ‘In 8th grade I killed a man’ or something. I need flavour.”
“Well, there’s not much of it in the Walker family, what can I say.” James said, shrugging.
“Well, I’ll change that.” Michael said. “Being friends with me is like an adventure novel.”
James laughed. “I’ll have to find out.”
Michael smiled. “I guess you will. Let me see your schedule.”
James handed him his schedule, and he scanned it over. They had first and eighth period together.
“Score. First, and eighth.” Michael handed him his schedule back.
“Nice.” James smiled.
The early bell rang and the two boys changed their route to the cafeteria.
“There’s an old teacher's lounge up here no one uses anymore, you wanna go chill there?” Michael said, gesturing around the corner.
“Uh, sure. I guess.” James said.
They both rounded the corner and made their way to the empty teachers lounge. The door creaked when it opened. The room smelled faintly of weed and was dimly lit.
“I use this room all the time. Used to use it during Study Halls, but I guess I’ll be spending them with you now.” Michael said.
“You smoke?” James asked.
“Yeah. You?” Michael responded.
“No, never could get over the taste.” James said, shaking his head.
“Ah, I can see that.” Michael said.
James found a beaten up bean bag and sat down in it. It was soft, despite the cloth being matted. Michael found a seat on the couch. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of Malboros. He lit one.
“Won't the teacher's smell?” James asked.
“Nah,” Michael said, taking a drag. “Plus, those hypocrites smoke two packs a day.”
They just sat there for a bit, Michael smoking and James sorting through the other boys CD collection.
“You’ve got ‘The Joshua Tree?’” James exclaimed.
“U2? Oh hell yeah. Stood in line for 3 hours.” Michael said. “Wanna listen?” He asked, smiling.
James took out his busted headphones and plugged them into Michael’s Walkman. Michael sat up on the couch to make room for him to sit. James had already had the CD in his hand and switched it out from the Elton John album they’d been listening to earlier. He pressed play. “With or Without You” began playing.
Michael hummed along with the song in between puffs. James sat with his hands folded in his lap. He slightly nodded his head to the beat.
“I don’t usually share my music.” Michael said. “You’re the first to use the second headphone jack.”
“Oh?” James said.
“Yeah. Music is like looking into a person's soul. I don't need random people seeing any of that.” He laughed a bit when he spoke.
“What makes me different?” James asked.
Michael shrugged and dropped his cigarette into the ashtray next to him. “I don’t know.”
James nodded, pretending he understood what that meant.
“Let me make you a mix.” Michael announced after a bit of silence.
“A what.” James asked.
“A mix! I’ll burn a couple of songs onto a CD. It’ll be like a little piece of James.” Michael said.
“Cool!” James said.
“You don’t sound very thrilled.” Michael said, wearing a small smile.
“No, I am!” He reassured him. “I just don’t have a CD player, that’s all.”
“No CD player!?” Michael half yelled. “How d’you listen to music?”
“Oh, the radio.” James said. “And sometimes my mom will spin vinyl.”
“You’re killing me, James. You’ve stabbed me and I’m dying.” Michael said, dramatically falling onto James’s lap. James tensed and blushed.
“Okay, so,” Michael sat up. “New headphones, a CD player, and pierced ears.” He said, listing on his fingers. “You’re going to be a changed man, James Walker.”
James smirked. “Can’t wait.”
The two sat and listened to music until the bell rang, signaling the end of first period.
“I’ll see ya eighth period.” James said.
“See ya,” Michael said, walking backwards and giving a friendly salute to James. James waved awkwardly back
