Warning: This story contains same-sex intercourse both between males and females. If this is not your thing or you are under 18, direct your cursor to the 'back' arrow and click it.
Note: This piece is dedicated to the members of the Gay Writers/Support Group. I have heard some anti-gay people say that homosexual relationships cannot have the same passion as same-sex relationships. This work was written to prove them wrong.
Dregan hauled himself up to the last branch and surveyed the surrounding landscape. All about the lush, green hills of his homeland rolled on, dotted here and there with small stone fences and the cottony forms of sheep. A gust of wind swept through the branches of the oak tree which he had climbed, he wrapped his arm around a thick branch to keep himself from falling. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of the fields, filled with clover, the smell of the sheep, and the smell of the rich earth that formed his homeland.
"Dregan?"
Dregan's father's voice boomed from across the fence that separated their small house from the tree Dregan was in. Dregan turned and leaned out of the tree.
"Yeah dad?"
"Come inside lad. Your mother's got breakfast done."
"All right," Dregan descended the tree and stood by his father. His father looked at him fondly, his eyes wrinkling at the edges when he smiled.
"Come along boy." Dregan's father put his arm around his son's shoulders and led him home and they walked, laughing together, home.
The sound of clattering dishes greeted the two as they entered the house.
"Isabelle! We're back!" Dregan's father called out as he hung up his hat and coat.
A female voice called from the kitchen. "Well it's about time! Where was he this time?"
"Oh the rougher was climbing trees again."
A plump. robust woman entered the room holding a frying pan in her pale, freckled hand.
"I don't understand it. I really don't. The boy sneaks off before the sun is up to climb a tree." Isabelle shook her head and made her way back to the kitchen.
Dregan's father looked down at his son and winked. "Don't take her serious lad. She's got to act all cross. But it's all show." He smiled.
Dregan smiled back and made his way to the kitchen as well.
The smell of fried potatoes and bacon wafted at Dregan as he entered the kitchen. He saw his little sister, Maggie, already seated at the table, her short legs swinging at least a foot of the floor. Dregan heard a smack and turned to see his father, the left side of his face red, trying unsuccessfully to gain a kiss form his mother.
"Patrick Connor you sit down before I knock you out cold sir!" Dregan's mother said, backing into a corner and waving a cast iron skillet menacingly.
"Oh come on now Bella, give us some sugar."
His mother sighed dramatically, winked at Dregan and kissed Mr. Connor passionately. As they broke away Mr. Connor smiled at his son.
"That's the stuff boy. Wakes you up better than any coffee in the morning."
Dregan joined his father in laughter as they took their seats at the table. Maggie banged her fork impatiently on the table as Mrs. Connor began to heap their plates full of fried potatoes, bacon, pancakes and sausage. There was no conversation as they ate, only the sound of their forks scraping the plated interrupted the morning silence. Dregan had three helpings of everything, his father had four, as well as finishing off Maggie's half eaten plate. As the family gathered in the sitting room after breakfast, Maggie playing with her dolls, Dregan watching T.V. and Mr. and Mrs. Connor reading, Mr. Connor looked down at Dregan.
"School starts tomorrow. Are you nervous?"
Dregan looked up at his father.
"Dad, it's my junior year of high school. Nothing's really all that different. What could possibly make me nervous?"
*******************
Trip set the box down and surveyed the room, which was empty except for the piles of boxes everywhere. He sighed and used his box knife to cut open a randomly chosen box. He hated moving. He'd moved over twenty-two times in his life but never to a different country before. Two weeks ago he and his parents had packed up their stuff in their home in Colorado and made the journey across the ocean to Ireland. His parents had tried to convince him that it would be fun, but Trip knew better. He had been keeping track of his Illinois and Michigan friends through facebook, but he doubted that it would be the same now, with so much distance between them. He sighed and ripped the top off the box. He unloaded his cloths and put them neatly in the closet. He was dreading high school. He doubted any of these small town Irish kids would understand him.
*********************
Dregan awoke early, before the sun was up. He knew it was useless to try to go back to sleep so he lay there, awake, staring up at the ceiling. He knew he should be excited about today, being the first day of the second-to-last year of school. He wanted to see his friends again, but he wasn't looking forward to the homework and teachers and endless piles of work. Groaning, he sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eye. The birds singing in the tree outside his window, the never-ceasing sound of the sheep bleating on the hill, his father whistling as he prepared breakfast in the kitchen. Stumbling out of bed, Dregan managed to pull on a pair of dirty jeans and trudged his way like a drunken fool into the kitchen.
"Well, look what the cat dragged in!" Mr. Connor said jovially as Dregan entered.
Dregan sat alone at the big oak table while his dad filled his plate with pancakes, sausage, and fried potatoes. Dregan's mother and Maggie would not awaken for at least another hour. By that time Dregan and his father would have already left for work and school. Sitting down at the table with his plate, Mr. Connor took Dregan's hands in his. Then as they both bowed their heads, eyes shut, Dregan's father rumbled out the prayer Dregan had heard so many times before.
"Our father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name, thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us. Lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil, for thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory forever. Amen"
"Amen," Dregan echoed.
"So, are you nervous?" Mr. Connor asked as he buttered his toast.
"Dad, I told you yesterday I wasn't nervous."
"Aye, so you did, but things can change on a nights sleep."
Dregan rolled his eyes and stuffed the rest of his breakfast in his mouth before leaving the table.
"Oh, in a hurry this morning are we?"
"Don't want to be late!" Dregan called over his shoulder as he headed for the lavatory.
Despite his rush at the breakfast table, Dregan took his time in the shower, letting the hot water rush over him, relaxing him and preparing him for the day. After the shower, he dressed in his usual jeans and T-shirt before grabbing his books and walking the two miles down the road to meet the bus.
*******************************************
Trip woke with a feeling of pervading dread. He sighed loudly and sat up, cringing as his feet touched the cold, hardwood floor. He grabbed his towel and headed into the bathroom to take a shower.
"Trip, hurry up!" His mother yelled, pounding on the bathroom door.
Trip cursed under his breath, slamming his hand against the faucet of the shower, shutting of the hot water. He climbed out of the shower and opened the bathroom door.
"Trip! Put some clothes on!" His mother shrieked as he walked down the hallway back to his room, dripping wet and stark naked. Right before he turned the corner, he lifted his middle finger and flashed it back in the direction he'd come from. He hoped his mother had entered the bathroom, she was bitchy enough already.
**********************************************************
At school Dregan shoved all his stuff in his locker, slamming the door and turning to see a raven-haired boy standing awkwardly next to him.
"Whoa. Didn't see you there," Dregan squinted. "Are you new here?"
"Yeah," the boy mumbled in a distinctly American accent. "I just moved here. From America."
"Cool. What's your name?"
"Trip. Trip Williams."
"Sweet name," Dregan stuck out his hand, "The name's Dregan Conner."
"Nice to meet you."
"Well," Dregan shuffled awkwardly, "I'll see you around." He walked off towards his first class.
"Hey Dregan?" Trip called, his accent ringing strangely down the hallway.
Dregan turned, "Yeah man?"
"Can you help me find my classroom?"
"Sure boss," Dregan jogged back towards the dark-haired boy. "What is it?"
Trip pulled a piece of paper from his back pocket, "History, with Mr. Fraser."
Dregan smiled, "Cool, that's my first class too. Come on." The two walked off in the direction of Mr. Fraser's classroom.
The last bell of the day rang and Dregan was just packing up his things when he felt a presence next to him. He looked up to see Trip standing awkwardly beside him.
"Hey man, what's up?" Dregan said, standing.
"Do you drive?" Trip asked.
"Yeah, I was just getting ready to head out to my car now. Do you need a ride home?"
"Yeah, that would be great."
"Sure thing," Dregan finished stuffing his bag, then he and Trip made their way to his car.
"So tell me about yourself," Dregan said as he drove home.
Trip shrugged. "Not much to tell really. I moved here 'cause my dad lost his job."
"Do you miss your old school?"
Trip shrugged again. "Kinda. A lot of people were mean to me though."
Dregan looked at his new friend, "Really? Why?"
Trip hesitated, taking in a ragged breath, "Because I'm bi," he winced, imagining the ridicule that would come next.
Dregan laughed and patted his friend on the shoulder. "It's ok, so am I."
