Loving the sin (bxb)

Chapter 1 - Party in the USA

I turned off the engine of my brand new blue Dodge Challenger and exhaled sharply. "And that was 'Stairway to heaven' by Led Zeppelin. Coming up next, we have 'Thank you for the music' by Abba!" the man on the radio shouted with way too much enthusiasm coating his words. Yeah, no, I am not listening to Abba. So that decided it for me and with a heavy heart, I turned off the radio and got out of my beauty. 

I really wasn't too eager to get back into that hellhole and I have only been here three days now! Christ, how could my uncle and aunt be even more uptight than my parents? Why couldn't I have just stayed in London? At least there I had my own bloody apartment and nobody could tell me what to do. But I guess flunking school once too often just had it for my very absent parents and they didn't want to deal with another call from the principal, so it was just easier to send me off across the Atlantic and let my christian aunt and uncle take care of me.

At least they didn't cut me off and provided me with enough money to have a hint of freedom. The car was a nice way of saying 'sorry you have to deal with this' from my mum, but I could have just bought it myself. So far this trip has turned out to be just shit. I mean, my uncle and aunt weren't that bad. Let me enlighten you. There are two types of rich people in this world: 

Number one, those, who get lost in their wealth and forget about other people and love and their own bloody kids. They just want even more money to spend on useless stuff, like a second house in the Bahamas. Yeah, those were my parents. And then there was number two. People who try not to let money define them, but in the end, they just feel so much superior and use their money to gain power and respect, even when they don't deserve it. Those were my uncle Edward, my father's brother and his wife, aunt Louis, who apparently grew up in this shithole of a town and had very strict rules and knew exactly, how things should be. 

I guess I did not fit the description of the perfect young man in her eyes from the moment she saw me entering her mansion. I mean, I could hold a conversation with educated people and I knew which knife was for the bread and which was for the fish. But I didn't dress like I knew any of that stuff. My whole appearance didn't scream 'good christian boy'. Well that could first off all be, because I wasn't christian or religious in general. Or it could be because I am gay. 

Yup I, Jesse Davis, am gay. If you look at me, it really isn't that hard to believe. I have always known that I liked guys and not girls. My parents were never there, so they didn't know. And my maid also didn't care, as long as I didn't cause too much trouble for her. And it wasn't a problem for me either. So what? I like dick, big deal. In London it wasn't. After all, it was the 70s. Things have changed, you know? 

But the moment my plane had landed here in Utah, USA, I knew, that here, I couldn't go around shouting: I'm here, I'm queer, deal with it. But I also didn't need to. I would only spend one year here, that wasn't that bad. And I mean, closeted and confused boys would always find a way to approach me, even if I wouldn't declare my sexuality loud and clear from day one. Also, aunt Louis would probably kick me out if she knew, which would suit me, but not my parents. I don't know about uncle Edward though. 

When I entered the mansion, which I now had to call my home for the next year, nobody was there. Strange. No maid, no butler or anything were there to greet me and take my jacket. That is not a complaint, just and observation, since my uncle and aunt really tried to have me under 24/7 surveillance so far. It was already pretty late, after 9 actually, and I didn't have any dinner yet. I just had some tea and a biscuit before I left. Yes, I suit that  stereotype of a British person, I like tea, so what?

I walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge. Fuck. Only stuff I could use to cook something and I'm a terrible cook. This is bullocks. Maybe I could just eat plain cheese? While I was busy searching for something edible in this huge fridge, I was startled by somebody clearing their throat in the dining room, that was connected to the big kitchen. I slowly leaned back, so I could peer around the corner, to see, who that could have been, only to see my whole host family sitting around the big table, used cutlery and plates in front of them. Ah shit.