Sweet Talk (BoyxBoy OneShots)

Damon

I haven't seen him since we finished high school about a decade ago. I guess you could say that things were much simpler then. Staying in the closet was substantially easier because I could hide under the guise of needing to focus on my studies. Now, I'm a single man in his twenties, unable to give my parents what they so desperately want: a daughter-in-law and a grandchild.

Of course, when they found out, I was alienated. Taking into account their extremely conservative viewpoints, I was not at all surprised. But by then, I was already living on my own in a city worlds apart from my small and traditionalistic hometown, in an apartment that more than satisfied my fairly luxurious needs. I had imported coffee beans that smelled burnt and bitter, filling up my living space and invading every inch of my scent. I had an overpriced stainless steel shower head with four different settings and LEDs that I've never used, nor do I intend to use in the future. I had four different dinner sets in order to maintain a sense of variety and to entertain the few guests I would typically have in my company from time to time. I had...essentially everything I could want, except someone to share it all with.

I always found myself sitting in the dining room, eating my thoroughly prepared breakfast while a Sam Smith album played softly over the speakers, feelings unfulfilled in my many achievements.

Sure, I've made something of myself, I've escaped my small hometown, and I've cut off my homophobic parents, but there has always been something missing. I've always wondered if I was the problem and that I was being ungrateful for all that I had. I had slowly let go of those feelings and accepted that I needed something else in my life, something that wouldn't just make me feel accomplished, but something that would satisfy me beyond just being able to afford my various luxuries.

The day I got an invite to my high school's ten year reunion, I was sceptical at first, but eventually decided it would be a great opportunity to reconnect with old friends and school mates. I had taken a week off from work and drove the gruelling eight hours to my hometown.

Princetown.

The place always had a righteous scent wafted into public air by the various households and small businesses that made the town up. Not only did they exude an entitled and holier-than-thou emanation, but they also made it their number one goal to be as cynical and self-serving as possible.

I did not miss the townsfolk's attitude. I did not miss the unkempt shrubbery on the traffic islands. I did not miss the tar roads transitioning into dirt roads and then back to tar roads. I did not miss the lack of trees lining the streets. I did not miss the general claustrophobic feeling I got driving through the town. I did not miss any of it.

I carefully pulled my car into the Princetown Hotel, one of only three in the entire town, and got myself a room with an en suite. The room itself was nothing to write home about, but it was fairly decent, especially considering the town I was in. The white bed sheets complimented the dark mahogany floors and the contrast made the bed really stand out. The small side tables both had lamps with beige lamp shades that added to the elegance of the room. The was a large glass sliding door on one end of the room looking out to the town. Nothing remarkable.

Since it was getting dark, I had decided to go down to the dining area and have some food and then I went to bed early.

The next morning, I got ready with a quick shower and shave, and made my way to a local diner.

Moonshine Diner always had a special place in my heart. My friends and I would often visit on Fridays after a stressful week of school to eat good food and hang out.

I entered the establishment and found myself a seat at the far end of the diner. The red leather chairs felt much smaller than I remembered them as a child. The diner was well lit by the large windows surrounds the place, giving a good view inside and out. The light brown tables looked exactly the same as I had remembered them, and they felt just as smooth.