[Landon and Brandon (in that order)]
EIGHT:: when you discover his sexuality.
"Paul, we brought company!" I heard Landon yell as we made our way through the door of their apartment. He ran through flipping on switches until the place wasn't clothed in darkness.
And then I heard Paul's groggy voice, his shirtless body making it's way into the living room, his hair a mess as he rubbed at his eyes underneath a pair of black rectangular-rimmed glasses id never seen him in before.
And I swear, I'd never seen anything more attractive than Paul with bed head and crackly morning voice even though it wasn't even morning. And although, he didn't have a hint of a six-pack and he was slightly scrawny, his arms were a sight to see.
I watched as they flexed, him wiping the sleep from those deep brown eyes, "did you get me- Jules?"
The way my name rolled off his tongue and through his crooked smile, affected me in ways that weren't healthy. Hell, I'd just met the guy and my heart raced around him. My palms were sweating, I worried if my lips were chapped, and I suddenly wanted to fix my hair or readjust my soccer hoodie.
Was I too sporty? Should I have not worn this jacket? Did Paul want someone less... Like me?
Paul was a great guy, despite not being very athletic or inhumanly muscular. He was a piece of art, he was perfect regardless of his willowy stature and I couldn't help but stare. And his eyes, his eyes, although covered by a pair of glasses, were too fucking beautiful.
Paul ran a hand up to his hair, the disheveled mess still looking attractive as his small smile started to drop slowly. I watched as his hand came up to his glasses and then his eyes widened, ripping the frames off his face, red rising to his cheeks
Normally, Paul was extremely confident and he wasn't one to get embarrassed. But his ears tinted a light pink and he looked down at his glasses before sheepishly looking up at me, small flustered frown on his face, he looked human.
Hips, he knocked his hips to the side and nipped at his bottom lip — fuck, he's cute.
Did I just call him cute? Fuck, I called him cute.
"Yeah, man, we got it," Brandon broke the silence, tossing a pack of paintbrushes at Paul, we frozen in place. My gaze was still trying to memorize Paul's, "we got your boyfriend, too."
I felt the heat rising to my face.
A smile in the curly haired boy's voice and the confidence coming back to him, he cleared his throat, "he's not my boyfriend."
And things fell into a normal, Rilee somehow ending up with her legs tightened around Landon's waist as she tried to climb further up his back to grab the bra that she'd forced me to pick for her.
And even as the red-haired bottle of buzz was screaming like a banshee and more intelligent boy was trying pry her off his twin, all I could think about was the boyfriend comment.
Paul was older and creative and completely out of my league.
: : :
It was only around four-thirty later that day but soccer practice was at around seven. I was hanging around Paul's place with his friends and although we'd smiled and greeted each other, Paul and I had barely talked. He gave no indication of whether he was gay or straight or anything.
My palms were clammy, my calves were burning from the amount of times I'd ended up pacing across the floor. I'd been trying to work up the courage to go ask Paul if he had a girlfriend but the fear was preventing me. He was a great guy, why wouldn't he be in a relationship with some hot chick who I couldn't compete with because she's a girl?
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Teen FictionBOOK ONE Discovering your sexuality in high-school is one of the most challenging things a teenage boy can face. Being closet gay for months, finally coming out, being greeted with a punch in the face and being shunned is even worse. For Julian Dou...