Pictures of Dorian Gray

VII: A WORLD ALONE

ISAAC WALKS HOME alone, staring at the ground and smiling dumbly as he thinks about Dorian. He thinks about his lips, inches from his ear, and about the countless drawings of him, in his sketchbook, in his desk at home, hidden away in his memory.

Before he knows it, Isaac finds himself at his front doorstep. His smile vanishes, and he sighs heavily before fishing his key out of his jacket pocket and opening the door. The house is silent, as always, but Isaac still makes his way to his mother's bedroom. He peeks his head in only to find her sleeping. He knows he should probably wake her, but he wants just a little more time to himself. He turns off the light and closes the door silently, heading to his own bedroom.

He decides to work on his chemistry paper, considering how close he is to failing. He sits down at his desk and opens his laptop and then a document, but finds himself staring at a blank screen. His fingers linger on the keyboard, ready to type his name. But eventually, his mind drifts back to Dorian. He closes his eyes as images of Dorian fills his head. Images of his hands, of his bruised knuckles from earlier today, of his lips, fill Isaac with something bright and airy, and his own hands find themselves working to get his pants unbuttoned.

With one hand inside his briefs and the other searching for images to satisfy himself, Isaac lets his head fall against the back of his computer chair. He imagines Dorian, posing nude for him, like Michelangelo and his muse for David. The feelings hit him so suddenly that he's too occupied with moaning Dorian's name that he doesn't hear his bedroom door being opened until it's too late.

Beatrice gasps and closes the door quickly, and Isaac sits frozen in shock. He takes his hand out of his boxers and turns to look at the images on his laptop. Nude men posing for photos fill the screen, and he can feel his skin catching fire. He takes a few deep breaths and tries to will away the blush that claims his cheeks before closing his laptop.

»

Maybe an hour or two later, Isaac lies in bed, reading over the chemistry paper that he's just finished when a gentle knock sounds at his door. He hasn't left his room since his mother walked in on him, and he flushes as he prepares for the conversation that's about to happen.

"Come in." Isaac calls out, but his voice is too weak to carry. He stands and opens the door, to find his mother standing with a plate of dinner in her hands. He frowns. "You cooked?"

"Can I come in?" Beatrice asks shyly, and Isaac nods. He moves and lets his mother walk in, and she sits down at the edge of his bed, placing the plate on his nightstand. It's silent for a few agonizing moments, during which Isaac imagines all the things he'd rather do than this. The list includes being frozen to death and kissing Mitchy, though the latter never really bothered him.

"I didn't know you liked boys." Beatrice finally says. She looks at Isaac with that same spaced out look on her face as always, and he blushes.

"Well," Isaac mutters, shrugging. "I do."

Beatrice is silent for a moment more, nodding to herself. "Is there anyone you have your eye on?"

"No, Ma."

"Then who's Dorian?"

Isaac freezes and overheats at the same time, biting the inside of his cheeks. "He's nobody, just some boy at school." He explains. Beatrice smiles a little, nodding. "He seems like a little more than just some boy. Have you drawn him?"

"Ma," Isaac whines, covering his face with his hands. "Thank you for dinner." He says through his fingers. Beatrice's smile widens. "You're welcome, love. Sleep tight."

Isaac watches as his mother stands and starts walking out of his room, but stops and turns back to look at him.

"I hope that things work out with Dorian."

Beatrice finally leaves and closes the door behind her, and Isaac sighs. He looks up at his ceiling, and wonders what Dorian's doing right now.

"So do I."

»

When Isaac wakes up Saturday morning, it's to relentless pounding on his bedroom door. He gets up quickly, not bothering to put on a shirt or pants as he yanks the door open. Instead of his mother, he stares at Mitchy, who smirks back at him.

"Nice boxers."

Isaac looks down at his Keith Haring briefs with burning cheeks, huffing. "What the hell are you doing here?" He asks. He grabs a pair of sweatpants out of his drawer and pulls them on as Mitchy wanders around his room, settling on sitting down on his bed. He shrugs.

"I wanted to see what you were up to. And you don't have a phone, so what else was I supposed to do? Your mom's a sweetheart, by the way."

"What do you want, Mitchy?"

Mitchy holds his hands up in surrender, smirking. "Okay, okay, don't shoot me. Roy and Mia are in the car, we were gonna go swimming in the lake and get some lunch later. You up for it?"

Isaac stares at Mitchy incredulously, trying to figure out how much of this is a joke. Mitchy huffs and leans back on his elbows, eyebrows raised. "You coming or not, Van Gogh?"

Isaac blushes at the nickname and turns away so that Mitchy doesn't see, grabbing a shirt and pulling it on. "Why do you want me to come?" He asks once he turns back around. Mitchy, staring at the posters on Isaac's wall, shrugs.

"You could use some sun, Solo Man. Now, get your fucking trunks on, Mia and Roy are probably murdering each other right now." Mitchy winks at Isaac and stands, patting his shoulder roughly before leaving. Isaac watches him leave, still completely confused, but grabs an empty backpack and puts his swimming trunks and a change of clothes inside.

And just in case, he adds his sketchbook and his camera.

--

idk i love hippo campus