Title: The Complete Shorter works of Greg Sanders
Author: saebuffyboy
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Rating: G
Summary: A page from Greg Sanders collection of writings.

***

Coin toss

I flipped a coin:

Heads I love you, tails I don't.

Heads you hate me, tails you don't.

Heads it was my fault, tails it was yours.

Heads you should have said something, tails I did.

Heads I hate you, tails I don't.

Heads I moved too quick, tails you moved too slow.

Heads you love me, tails you don't.

Heads I put your things away, tails you'll be back to get them.

Heads I love you, tails you hate me.
Heads I hate you, tails you love me.

The more I flip the more I see
Love and Hate are just two sides
of the same coin.

Heads I love you even though I hate this, Tails you hate it because you love me.

***

In the Begining

Butterscotch, the taste of butterscotch and Crown Royal.
Massive Attack on the stereo.
Armani black code?
Cold on the small of my back.
Heat building in my jeans.
The scretch of our zippers.
A cool desert breeze, before a hot Vegas sun.
Hot moist air on my ear, my neck, on my now naked shoulder.
"Everything is bigger in Texas." 
Name That Chemical Compound. Getting Lost In Life.

"Anal Swabs" .

Finally they all caught up to me.
Lips on Lips, Skin on Skin, Flesh in Flesh.
The only air in the room passing from you lips to mine.

No sounds.
No lights.
No air.

Sweat slicked skin resting next to mine.
Soft little breaths of "I love you"  against my ear.

Smile as big as the Texas sky.

The smell of Blue Hawaiian.
Heat radiating from your body keeping me warm.

I'll never feel this complete again.

Nick fucked me for the first time last night.

***

Hiding

I talked with you about the girls I was "seeing" .

I played the video games you liked to impress you.

I wanted so much to be your friend.


I tried to hide it, but my love for you shone through.


We flirted through an office romance.

We "triple dated"  with our coworkers after shift.

We thought we could keep it to ourselves.


We tried to hide it, but our love wouldn't go away.


I learned that you were stolen from me
I saw the terror in your eyes from your prison underground
I felt your fear when we pulled you from the dessert dirt

And I knew I never wanted to hide again.

***

It was only a kiss

When you're considered "a crazy guy"  everyone what's to know about your first times. Your first boyfriend. Your first girlfriend. The first time I was high or drunk. The first time I had sex, my first threesome, my first time with my boyfriend and my girlfriend and their respective girlfriend and boyfriend. The first time I had sex at a Giants game. The first time I had sex on the field after a Giants game. Yeah, I guess I have done some stuff that is wild by comparison. But the first time that everyone forgets about is my first kiss.

I was 16 and had the hugest crush on this guy. Mitch, Mitch Huntington. He was a year older than me and wanted to be a doctor. At least his father wanted him to be a doctor. In truth this kid sucked at all things science related. English he kicked ass in, but he couldn't balance a chemical equation to save his soul. So we wound up with this deal. Tuesday and Thursday I'd go to his house and help him with his Chem work, and Sunday night's he'd come by my place and help me with my English papers. Not that I really needed it, but it did mean an extra night that I got to spend with him. So I wasn't arguing.

One Friday while at home getting ready to go out with some friends and try to sneak into a local club, I got a call from my mom. Papa Olaf had been taken to the hospital. Nothing serious but he would have to stay for a night or two while they observed him and ran some tests. I have no shame in telling you that I love Papa Olaf more than I have loved any person on the face of this planet. When I was a kid I used to spend two weeks in the summer visiting him and my grandma. Papa Olaf would spend the day teaching me everything he knew about everything. How to replace a torn screen. How to tell what plants to plant based on the moon cycle. How to identify a bird by a single feather. How to keep fish separate form their babies so they wouldn't eat them. And so many more things I don't think I'll ever be able to remember or list them all. Every night we'd lay awake talking. He'd tell me stories about the Old Country. And his life with grandma here. And he'd tell me scary stories that would have me awake half the night thinking the headless horse man was outside the window. And a million other stories about how we come to be the people we are.

I took off for the hospital as soon as I hung up the phone. For most of the next two days Papa Olaf was pretty out of it. Apparently, there was a slight irregularity in his heart rate, and he was on several different medications to correct it, including one that keep him mostly unconscious. My mom brought me a change of clothes and would bring up lunch but insisted that I leave the room to go out to dinner.

Sunday night, when I came back from dinner I was more than surprised to see Mitch sitting in the seat that I had occupied for the past two days flipping through the Rolling Stone one on the nurses had brought in to keep me distracted. Mitch explained that he had stopped my place to help with my English paper that week, and that my dad had told him about Papa Olaf and that I had spent my weekend at the hospital. Mitch had stopped by to see how I was doing. We spent the next two hours talking about my times with Papa Olaf , and how scared I was of what was happening. By this point it was getting late, and Mitch had to go. We stood at the entrance of the room saying our goodbyes. But something didn't feel right. For two guys that spent three nights a week together, this goodbye was harder than any other had been.

When Mitch finally left I turned back to see Papa Olaf sitting up in his bed for the first time in days. Before I could even begin talking, Papa Olaf called me over to his bed, and asked me to sit next to him. I complied with out a second thought. When I sat down Papa Olaf told me he'd been awake since that strange boy came in. He had pretended to sleep since he didn't know who the boy was. He had heard our entire conversation. When the blush crept up my neck he reprimanded me for being ashamed of how I felt. Papa Olaf than grabbed my hand and leaned in close to me. Papa Olaf than told me, in English which was odd for him. Usually his advice was in Norwegian, but I guess he didn't want me to misunderstand him.

"It's Ok to like the boys."  Papa Olaf squeezed my hand and looked in my eyes. "Now go get yours." 

I couldn't even speak, I was so in shock. I kissed him on the cheek before taking off after Mitch. I caught him in the parking lot, before he got in the car. With out saying a word I walked up to him. Grabbed his face, and brought our lips together. Much to my surprise Mitch didn't fight back, didn't try to break the kiss, but instead kissed me back with as much passion as I kissed him with. The amount of time we spent there never registered with me, but eventually we had to break apart. Mitch got into his car and drove away. We never studied together again. Mitch went on to be a fantastically well know writer. And though we never spoke again in highschool, every time we passed in the hallways we'd smile at each other, and I know he had to be thinking of our kiss, because every time I saw him, it was all I could think of.

Papa Olaf was released from the hospital the next day, and never mentioned our talk to anyone. He even pretended to be surprised when I came out to them a year later. Although I knew that without his advice I never would have had the courage to do it.

So you see Nick, I've had some interesting firsts. But, you might just be my first true love. And I just wish you had a Papa Olaf who could have been there to help you out. Because I think that if you had, we'd be in a different place right now. And I know that I'm in no position to tell you how to live your life. But I just want tell you.

"Nick, it's ok to like the boys, now come get yours." 

***