"I'm not wearing that thing shithead!"
Florante looked at the Tommy Hilfiger boxer shorts with utter disgust.
"Don't be silly and take that long-sleeve turtle-neck shirt off or you'll probably have a heat stroke out there!" said I, with a muffled authority.
"No, this is my favorite get-up!"
"Babe I get it! But this is not Winter Wonderland." I approached and handed him the apparel.
"That thing is too revealing! Ain't no way I'll be wearing that not even in a thousand years!" He winced.
"Common babe, please...?"
"Your puppy-eyes not gonna change anything shithead!"
"But..."
"I said No!" He sounded like he's totally freaked out instead of angry.
I dropped my shoulders in surrender and returned the clothing in the wardrobe. "Put Florante on a boxer shorts mission has failed miserably"
He must've sensed my defeat. He walked towards me and grabbed my waist from behind kissing the crook of my neck.
"You mad shithead?"
"No..."
"You're mad...sorry to be such an ass this early..."
"No, I mean...I really understand. Sorry if I'm being too pushy about it. I know you hate being the center of attraction"
"I don't mind if the attraction comes from you..." he whispered in my ear.
He kissed me at the back of my neck and rested his face there.
"Thank you for coming over, by the way, I know you're supposed to spend the weekend with Nana..."
"Nana's fine if you could only see how her face lighted up when I told her I'm going out of town with my boyfriend..."
"You mean you told her about us?"
"Yeah..."
"Yeah?"
"Of course shithead. I don't hide anything from Nana...and she's looking forward to meeting you by the way"
"I wish I could tell mom and dad too..." I sighed.
"Hey, don't force it okay? It's fine with me if your parents don't know about us...fine with me if your friends don't know about us either. The world does not have to know. 'Us' is enough."
"But I gotta let them know one way or another...it's killing me-" I looked at mom and dad from the window. They're sun-bathing at the spot near the palm tree.
"Hey, look at me, shithead..."
I turned around and meet his eyes. "You'll be fine...okay? Your parents are gonna love you and they're gonna be proud of you"
"Guess so. Do you wanna go out now?"
He looked at the beach that's crowded with people and I know that anxious look of his because Florante's not good at socializing.
He pulled me closer and rested his chin on my head. I'm propped against his chest close enough that I can smell his aftershave.
"Can we just stay here? I mean we could go night-swimming later..."
"If that's what you want, fine with me..."
Florante's chest is like a huge warm pillow and all I wanna do is bury my face on it all day long.
We lie with our legs entwined on the bed listening to "I Miss You" soundtrack by Blink 182. He's reading "The Great Gatsby" by F. Scott Fitzgerald to me while his free hand is playing with my curls. Florante is having some sort of obsession with my hair. He'd either kiss it, sniff it, touch it, ruffle or comb it with his hands whenever he gets the chance.
He read the last lines of the book which says something about the 'boats' and the 'current' while I fight the urge to sleep. Florante's voice is like a steady murmur of a stream that's strangely soothing.
"So what do you think about the book?"
"Is this a Literature class or something..." Said I, squinting my eyes at him. He cracked a guttural laughter.
"You bet..."
"I think Daisy's a bitch and Nick is definitely in love with Gatsby."
"Why do you think so?"
"Ahmp...I dunno, the way Nick describes Gatsby it clearly shows he adores him."
He lets out a compulsory "Mmmm" which is a sign that my character analysis sucks big-time.
"And what do you think about the line?"
"Which one?"
"Let me read it again..."
"So we beat on, boats against the
current borne back ceaselessly into the past..."
I think it speaks about how we can never run away from the past like a boat can't go against the current.
"Well done, you're not a shithead after all..."
"Hey! I love Literature too...indirectly though, cos the guy I love, loves it so by default I love it as well"
"Poor guy...he must be very unfortunate being stuck with a pervert sleepy-head who forces him to dress with such vulgarity..."
I flipped over and give him the eyes.
"What's the name of that unfortunate guy you love again?" He pinched my nasal bone gently.
"Florante Mendoza..."
"I love you too shithead..." Said he in a breathless sexy fashion.
"Say my name...babe" I tousled his hair.
"I love you, Larry Davis"
And then we dissolve into a passionate kiss. The sun is burning outside and so are we.