• ballsy •

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CHAPTER THIRTY TWO: ballsy

The gym was a swarm of sweat and blasting music. Artificial pop songs vibrated the speakers and water bottles sat dotted around the room, waiting for their owners to dehydrate. Rippling abs and damp foreheads, sweaty hair and toned muscles, exposed flesh and throbbing pulses. Loud and dark and the breeding ground for body insecurities.

Dorian and Ty were jogging on the running machines side by side. They finished their hard workout and were completing their cool down, breathing heavily as their sweat dried and muscles burnt. "...honestly, Dory, it's like I go crazy when I'm not with her. It's insane, she's insane. I've never been with a girl with such a high sex drive—"

"I'm happy for you." Dorian laughed, not looking up from the little timer on the machine.

"What's it like fucking a dude then?" He asked with a grin as the colour kissing Dorian's red cheeks deepened. "Assuming you've done it by now, of course."

"Ty, I'm not talking about—"

"Oh, please, Dory. I just wanna know for...I don't know...future reference."

"Future reference?"

"I might fuck a boy one day, who knows?"

"Then watch gay porn."

"I wanna hear it first hand."

"Well, I don't wanna talk about it." Dorian laughed at his friend's persistence. "He means so much more to me than sex. I'd rather talk about his eyes or his poetry or how fucking smart he is."

They turned their treadmills off and dismounted the machines, grabbing their water bottles as they headed to the changing rooms. Ty watched him with a smirk, "You love him yet?"

Dorian peeled off his sweaty clothes and stripped to his boxers. "Yes." He answered sincerely.

"Are you ever gonna tell people?" Ty pressed curiously.

It was something Dorian had thought about both too much and not enough. He wanted to be able to love his boyfriend without fear of committing social suicide, but he wasn't sure that was an option. If there was a way he could proclaim his love openly without fear of judgement, he would do it in a heartbeat. He wasn't ashamed of his life choices and he definitely wasn't ashamed of Corey. If anything, he wanted to parade him around like a trophy — that's how utterly smitten he was.

It wasn't as though anyone would judge him, not really. Perhaps there were still a few traditional conservatives lurking on the school premises, but the majority of the student body wouldn't bat an eyelid. When Micah and Beau made their relationship public, people were curious but not cruel. They were confused, but once the initial shock had worn off, they didn't care. There was a lesbian couple on the hockey team and not a single person said a thing. A transgender girl ran the politics club, and the teachers seemed to be the only ones that made her life harder than it needed to be.

Hillford may be run down and broken, but the heart was still throbbing and it beat for every kid who didn't quite fit in. The school was on its last legs; the laptops hadn't worked in years, the PE equipment was broken beyond repair and the teachers were running on a barely sufficient salary and a restricted sleep schedule. But despite everything, it wasn't a bad place to be.

Dorian told himself he shouldn't worry about what people would think, but it was basic human nature. To feel insecure and anxious, worried and nervous. Judgement was bound follow, even if it only brewed within people's minds.

And yet, there was a part of him that wanted to say fuck it. Corey was his and he didn't care who knew it. He liked boys and he liked girls. He was bisexual, and nothing was ever going to change that. It was about time he started accepting himself, and giving other people the chance to accept him too. Because how could they embrace his sexuality if he didn't even tell them?

"I don't know." Dorian finally replied to Ty's question. "I'll speak to Corey. If he wants to come out, then we will."

Ty rose his brows in surprise, "That's ballsy, man. I respect that."

"You don't think I should do it?" Dorian asked anxiously, already beginning to regret his decision.

Ty laughed, "Don't second guess yourself, Dory. It's brave but it's not dumb. You love him, don't be ashamed of that."

"I'm not ashamed—"

"Then stop worrying. Kiss him in public, make out in the corridor, hold hands in the lunch queue, tell him you love him no matter who's listening. Do it and don't think twice."

Dorian's face relaxed into a grin. "I will." He decided confidently, making a mental note to talk to Corey about it later. "Thanks, mate."

They both showered, changed and grabbed their things before leaving the stuffy building. As they approached Ty's creaky old car, Dorian typed out a quick text to his boyfriend.

Boyfriend. He'd never get bored of saying that.

'Just getting in the car. Text me when you've left work. See you a V's xx'

He tucked his phone back into his pocket and climbed into the passenger seat. They listened to Ty's trashy playlist the entire way to Velvet's house. Dorian complained at the inconsistencies, rolling his eyes as the music changed from country to rock to grime to the Shrek soundtrack. "What is this playlist even called?" He frowned.

"It's called 'car'. You don't like it?"

"It's as if you've just added one song from every genre you could find." He chuckled.

They bickered the rest of the way and Ty — in a stubbornly passive aggressive mood — turned the music to full volume and began screaming the lyrics at the top of his lungs. When they reached Velvet's house, Dorian couldn't have gotten out of the car fast enough.

He checked his phone as they walked up to her front door and his brows furrowed when he noticed he hadn't received news from Corey. He was usually good at replying, so Dorian assumed he must still be busy at work. Ty hugged his girlfriend when they arrived and gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek. Soon, they were all seated in the lounge with drinks in their hands and laughter in the air.

An hour passed, and Dorian begun to grow worried. "Do you think he's okay?"

"He's fine, Dorian." Velvet tried to assure him, but even she didn't look totally convinced.

"I'm gonna ring him." He excused himself and drifted into the empty kitchen. He leant down and gave her dog, Luna, a pet before calling Corey. He didn't answer. Dorian called again. Still no reply.

He sent him another text.

'Where are you??'

Then,

'Are you okay?'

And because his conscious wouldn't rest,

'Please call me, I'm worried'

He headed back into the other room and told the couple that Corey wasn't answering. Velvet gulped and her expression filled with concern, "Do you think he's okay?"

"His shift finished over two hours ago." Dorian said in reply.

Velvet remembered the conversation she had had with her best friend a few weeks prior. He had told her how nervous his boss made him. She bit her lip at the memory, praying that nothing had happened to him. She didn't dare mention the conversation; Dorian was already a nervous wreck, she couldn't throw in the suggestion that Corey's boss had hurt him in any way.

"I think I'm just gonna head home." Dorian sighed. "Thanks, Velvet. I'm sorry about all this."

"Text us when you know he's alright, Dory." Ty instructed.

Dorian walked home, his heart beat quickening, his breath shallowing. When he reached his front door, he fiddled with the key for so long that he almost screamed in frustration. When he finally entered the house, he shouted, "Corey! Corey, are you here?"

He received no reply.

He practically sprinted up the stairs without even taking his coat or shoes off. He barged into his bedroom and froze. He let out a sigh of relief when he saw the boy curled up in bed, fast asleep. But his momentary burst of reassurance quickly evaporated when he saw the sickly bruise shadowing his eye.

Dorian leant down beside the bed and ran his fingers through Corey's wild curls. He debated waking him up and interrogating him about what had happened. A surge of anger rose within him and all he wanted to do was punch someone in the face — preferably the person who had given Corey that black eye. But he forced that feeling to subside. He needed to be there for his boyfriend right now, not fall into a fit of rage.

He sent Ty and Velvet a quick text to let them know everything was okay before he kicked off his trainers and stripped to his boxers and a plain white t-shirt. He crawled into the single bed as quietly as he could, shuffling to the very edge in an attempt to take up as little space as possible. Corey immediately stirred and rolled over, burying his face into the crook of Dorian's neck.

Dorian wrapped his arms around the smaller boy and sighed heavily. For now, he would let his boyfriend sleep. Later, he would resist the urge to beat someone up.

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