It was dusk when we decided to ride the train back to the neighboring suburb, where we had met up and left his car. I was so nervous about what my parents would say, but each time I looked into his eyes, I knew that the decision I had made was the right one. It was the right one for me, at that very moment, and that was all that mattered. I texted my father and quickly turned off my phone soon after.
We were able to get out of the city center pretty quickly, but once it got dark and we were at the outskirts of the city, we got lost. Every mile or so that we would drive, we would be uncertain as to where we were going and where we had been. We stopped at every gas station that we passed by to ask for directions. However, each time we got out of his car to ask for directions, it was quite a terrifying experience. Imagine being lost on the outskirts of the city, where the surrounding neighborhood looked so dark (there were no street lights), dangerous, unwelcoming, where we felt eyes were on us whenever we got out of the car. Now, imagine a 17 yr. old gay Asian male and a 16 yr. old gay white male with bleach blond hair, both of about the same height of 5 foot and 8 inches, looking lost and out of place.
I could feel him getting nervous after our fifth or sixth stop to a gas station, so I gently put my left hand on his as it nervously, but firmly held onto his gear shift. I continued to tell him that everything would be all right; we would find our way. I wanted to comfort him, to protect him, and to let him know that I was right there beside him, holding his hand, riding through that dark, scary adventure with him. He accepted my gesture and intertwined his fingers in mine. His hands were so soft and supple. His touch was so gentle and comforting... Luckily, after that point, we were able to find our way. We drove on with our fingers intertwined all the way to our destination.
When we got to his place, we quickly ran to his room. It had stark white walls, a bed at the corner with a window above it, a table, and a framed display hanging on one of his walls. At some point, we found ourselves sitting on his carpet, his back resting on the edge of his bed as I sat facing him. We looked silently into each others eyes as we both felt a sort of magnetism bring our our faces and bodies closer together. I pressed my lips onto his and he accepted them. I gently held his face in my hands as we proceeded to deepen our kiss.
We were alone in his room with the light on, which was intensified by the stark white color of his walls. I didn't care. Everything felt so right. We sat there on his floor, his head laying on the edge of his bed as I held it and caressed his face, with my body pressed onto his. Only he mattered at that point: the softness and fullness of lips, his quiet and delicate movements, the smooth softness of his hair, and the way his body perfectly fit into my embrace. After a night of feeling our attraction to one another develop as we roamed the city, then to have our fears and anxiety of being lost with no one but one another to depend on bring us even closer, that moment when our lips connected was perfect.
