His skin was warm to the touch, as he pressed against me underneath the stage.
Above us, I could hear the shitty ass band that the prom committee hired.
They really knew how to slaughter a good Cher song.

I blocked the music out of my mind as we began to kiss. His lips were softer than any of the other boys I had been with.
And I had been with a lot of boys.

I don’t want to sound like the stereotypical gay boy who fucks every guy he sees, but I really have gotten around in my seventeen years.
If I owned a little black book, it would look more like one of those huge ass yellow pages.
And all of my relationships have been the same:
We fuck.
Exhange names.
Fuck again.
Lie, and say we love one another.
And then fuck someone else.
It’s all very repetitious.

He began to kiss me harder now, and I kissed back.
He slowly began to pull away from me, to unbuckle my pants.
“I love you,” I whispered.
He smiled at me.
“Do you really mean it?” he asked.
I looked into his dark eyes, “Yes.”

And I wasn’t lying.