Cyril, sixteen-year-old, a short white boy with black hair walked into his room with another boy who was about as tall as him. Cyril had tanned skin, blonde fringes, freckles all over his body and well-toned biceps. The brunette boy behind him was pale and skinny. Cyril's blue eyes looked into his brown eyes and he pushed him against the wall.

It was an Australian summer and they were both dripping in sweat. The brunette boy leaned towards him and kissed him gently as he removed his shirt. He removed Cyril's T-shirt while looking into his eyes. He smiled, "You've got a good body," He whispered as he slipped his hands down his wet body.

Cyril kissed his neck and moved his fingers across his hair as he went down into the sheets. Cyril's hands moved from that brunette hair to his pale back and his fingers dug into his flesh. He was running out of breath, panting and gasping every time he felt those cold fingertips on his skin.

His blonde fringes covered his red face.

"Wait," He moaned.
"What?" Those brown eyes were staring down at him as Cyril began crying. He rubbed his eyes and the lens came off but those brown eyes were staring at him.

"I don't know if what we're doing is right," Cyril breathed and swallowed a lump in his throat.
"I won't touch you if you don't want me to," He had a deep voice contrary to his frail-looking body.

"Nevermind me, continue," Cyril said.
"Are you sure?"
"No. I don't even know if I like you but I still want you to keep going,"
"If you're allowing it..." His wet hair slipped down his ears and covered his jawline, "Don't complain about it,"

Cyril clenched his eyes and his teeth,
"Look at me," His voice sounded deeper.
"No," Cyril moaned.
"Why?"
"I don't wanna. Just get done with it already,"

"Cyril, I'm trying to make it less painful for you,"
"Didn't ask, don't care,"
He narrowed his eyes, "Fine then, suit yourself,"

Finally, Cyril opened his eyes wide open as the pain increased. He shook his head, reassuring himself that it would be over soon. He looked at his brown eyes, staring down at him on places nobody had ever seen. His hands were cold but gentle.

He could feel each and every hair on his body. Every freckle on his body had accepted him. He felt his breath on his skin and grabbed his hair. He looked up and their eyes met as the sun shone from the curtains and lit up one of his brown eyes into a shade of orange, "Actually," Cyril looked at him, "I wanna ride, switch places"

He got up on his knees and looked down at him, his brown eyes were shining orange under the blazing sunlight and he tore open a condom packet with his teeth, "No, bend over"

"CYRIL," Cyril's father opened the door to his room. He was an old, blonde man with rippling muscle. He wore a white vest and camo print flat-front trousers. He looked at Cyril sitting on his bed in his blue boxers and a back sweatshirt, staring outside the window. The sun was shining on his heterochromatic eyes and his skin was red.
"Can't you hear me at once?" His father said and Cyril turned towards him, "Yes, dad?"

"What is this?" He pulled out a box of condoms from his pocket, "I found it in your jeans,"
Cyril's face went pale, "This is...We got it at school workshop,"
"A workshop," His dad nodded, "Do you think I'm an idiot?"
"Why...Why would I think that?"

"Mr Edwards, you've been bringing home a boy, haven't you?"
Cyril got up from his bed, "We're just friends,"
His father walked up to him and looked into his eyes. He had sea-green eyes, Cyril looked down.

He grabbed his collar, "Your mother found a used condom in your room while cleaning it up,"
Cyril looked into his eyes, "And you haven't brought any girls home, the only person who has been coming here is that bloody twat!" He punched Cyril's face and he fell on his bed.

"DAD!"
He got on top of him and punched his face, "TELL ME THE TRUTH RIGHT NOW!"
"I LIKE MEN!" Cyril shouted and got a punch on his face.
"OH NO YOU DON'T! NOT UNDER MY WATCH!" He was sinking into his mattress in tears and pain, but he didn't like that pain.

He wanted to run away and never come back. His mother stared at him from outside the door. His father finally got up and brushed the sweat on his beard, "Did you get my hunter from the attic?"

"NO DAD!"
She hesitantly passed it to him and he stood before him, "So, you like men?"
"No," Cyril moved back. His screeches scattered through the walls of the house. His mother could do nothing but hear him scream inside his room as she stood outside the door.

"YOU ARE NOT HAVING MALE FRIENDS AGAIN, YOU HEAR ME?! NO BOYS IN THE HOUSE OR ANYWHERE ELSE! GET A GIRLFRIEND AS SOON AS POSSIBLE OR I WILL STRANGLE YOU TO DEATH, YOU DISGUSTING FAGGOT! FEAR GOD!"
His father came out of his room and threw the hunter aside. He went to the front yard and drunk an entire bottle of beer.

"Avro, Mr Edwards," Edgar wished him as he pressed the doorbell.
"Stop right there," He said and Edgar turned towards him, "Yes?"
"You're not to meet Cyril again. He is not interacting with any boys again,"
"Oh, but why?" Edgar asked.
"You don't need to know that. Now the get the hell out,"

That night, Edgar climbed Cyril's window and jumped in, "Mate, what's going on? Explain this shit to me" The lights were out and the room was dark. He could hear Cyril crying in a corner, "Cyril?" He reached his hands for the lights but Cyril held his hand, "Don't turn on the lights. I don't want you to look at me right now,"

"...Okay,"
Cyril hugged him tightly. Under the moonlight entering the room, Edgar could see hunter marks all over his hands, chest and back.

"Please help me, Edgar." He cried, but he ensured to keep his voice low. He was shivering and his body was hot, "You said it'd be okay to explore my sexuality but all I get is pain and it doesn't feel okay. My head is a mess. Please... Figure something out, please"

Edgar squeezed him gently, "I will,"
"And don't meet me after that, until I say it's okay to meet,"
"But why?"
Cyril pressed the bruises on his face, "I don't ever want to go through this pain again,"
Edgar looked into his eyes, "Okay,"

Cyril walked to school after a week. He met that brunette boy on his way, "Why didn't you pick my calls? I thought you enjoyed it,"
"Don't talk to me," Cyril said.
"But why? You didn't like it?"
"No, I hated it,"

"Didn't seem like that when you were moaning under me though,"
"Leave me alone," Cyril went towards his locker and he followed him,
"Alright, jokes apart, I'll let you ride next time, fine?"
Cyril smirked, "You still think there's be a next time?"
He smirked, "Does your ass hurt?"
"I'm hurting all over," Cyril went away.

They didn't meet for another week, and when they did, Cyril had a girl beside him. She was smiling and talking to him. They were holding hands. He looked at those brown eyes staring at him as they passed by each other. He looked away and smiled with her.

'Your voice was my soundtrack this summer,'

Now, after four years, those brown eyes looked into a blank phone screen, with a girl texting him. He kept the phone aside and looked at his hands. He still remembered how his skin felt, those heterochromatic eyes, that sweet scent of sweat, those freckles, that exotic beauty mark under his lips, that heart which never loved him back and how he was madly in love with that teenager. He still pondered what he did wrong. Why did it end so fast? He didn't even know his name.

"My name's Cyril Edwards,"
"Nice, my name is—"
"Don't tell, I don't want to know,"
"But why?"

"Because I do not want to fall for you,"

He looked out of his window as he sat in a hospital's waiting room, "Why did you do that to me, Cyril? And why am I still not over you? Do I even like you...Or am I just lonely?"

"Mr Glizzly Westburg," A nurse came to the waiting area and stood before him, "The doctor is calling for you. Shall we go?"
His brown eyes smiled at her, "Of course,"
'I can't die before seeing you one last time.'

-To be continued

Glizzly Westburg
Undercover Blue Riot