Goodbye's Second Chance

I've Been Holding On/To the Shapes Within My Mind

"Good luck, Iwa-chan." "Yeah, good luck, Tooru." He replied. We both just stood there, not wanting to be the first to turn away. The wind was chilly and fierce that day, as if it knew my world would be in perpetual winter from that point on. We both knew that this was it. We were headed to different universities, different paths in life. We'd made the promise to stay in touch, but no one ever does and everyone knows it when they say the words. I hated myself so much in that instant for not having had the balls to tell him how I felt, how I've always felt.

Eventually, he kicked at a rock he was staring at on the ground, turned and walked away. I watched him disappear into the crowd of other graduates, head down. The wind whipped around me, chilling me to the bone, the warmth of his presence now gone. I'd think about this day for years to come and want to call him every time. I'd even pull out my phone, pull up his name, but I could just never make myself hit call. I was sure he was happy with some girl somewhere, maybe even married.

I'd had so many opportunities to tell him the truth, but my damn pride stopped me every single time. We'd been friends for as long as I could remember, but it was somewhere around our first year in high school that I'd fallen in love with him. I'd only realized how I felt after I'd finally realized I was gay. I resisted the thought so hard at first, thinking that I was just a horny kid and my hormones were searching for something to latch on to. I didn't want to feel that way for my best friend, but no matter what I did or how I tried to deny it to myself, the truth was the truth.

I remember the first time I saw him with those eyes. He was sleeping over, like he did all the time. I woke up in the middle of the night because I was thirsty and got up to go get a glass of water. I saw him sleeping on the futon next to my bed and tried to step over him so as not to wake him. It was warm and he'd kicked off the blanket. It was as if some god wanted me to notice how perfect he looked softly snoring in the moonlight coming through the window. All he was wearing was a pair of shorts, his hand laying lightly on his, even then, perfect abs.

My whole throat went dry and I felt my dick spring to life in my boxers. He was so indescribably beautiful and I wanted nothing more than to touch him and to feel him touch me. I just stood there for what I thought was forever, staring at him sleeping. I couldn't will myself to move an inch. The rhythmic sound of his breathing hypnotizing me like a Siren's song. I ached so hard just looking at him, and I couldn't correlate what I was feeling with what my brain knew of Iwa. He suddenly rolled over onto his side and I jumped and ran to the bathroom.

What the fuck was I thinking? How am I hard from just LOOKING at Iwa? I leaned against the bathroom door, trying to figure out if I was having some sort of lucid dream and this was all just make-believe. Maybe it was just because I just woke up? Yeah, maybe it had nothing at all to do with Iwa. Just male biology. I pushed off the wall, walking over to the sink. I turned on the faucet, taking a drink directly from the source and then splashing my face with the chilly water. I'd hoped it would calm me down some, but it didn't even phase the throb in my shorts.

I stood there, leaning over the sink, trying to think of anything else. Old ladies, sad puppies, losing a game, nothing was making it go away. Fuck it. It's what teenage boys do, right? Not like I hadn't done it before. It just never really worked for me. I gave in and pulled myself out of my boxers. I tried thinking of hot girls, hot girls on me, hot girls on girls, trying to avoid the visual of him laying there that kept popping into my head. I imagined his hand replacing mine and the sensation that came over me was like nothing I'd ever experienced. It didn't take long after that for me to finish with a fiery ending, the likes of which I'd only seen exaggerated in porn.

As I cleaned up, I felt utterly horrible for using Iwa that way, even though he knew nothing about it. He'd never speak to me again if he knew what I just thought about him doing. It had to be a fluke, right? He's my best friend. Nothing more than a fluke. I resigned myself to that thought and tiptoed back to bed. I tried not to look as I stepped over him to get into my bed, but I couldn't take my eyes away from him. Stupid moonlight. Making him look that way. I thought about closing the curtain, but it was too hot to cut off the breeze that way. I forced myself to turn away from him and shoved a pillow over my head so I couldn't see that stupid moonlight. I was sweating to death under it, but at least I couldn't see him anymore.