My Only (Boyxboy) [OVERHAUL; ON HOLD]

Epiphany

(A/N: For real tho, my names SUCK. Pleaseeeeeee help meeeeeee. Oh, and btw, if you're reading this story, and you're confused by the *asterisks* that appear, it's just the inner dialogue of the person. Sorry for any confusion!)

Jake's POV

Jumping up at the sound of the last period bell, I zigzagged my way through the sea of students, at last reaching the doors to the school courtyard. Pushing them open, a blast of sunlight struck my eyes. I blinked a few times, adjusting myself to the beautiful brightness.

As I hiked through the lush greenness, I meandered over to the large weeping willow tree in the center, easing myself into a sitting position, crossing my legs and leaning back onto my hands. The grass felt plush and carpet-like under my fingers. Lightly gripping some soft dirt, the sweet smell of dew drop lavendar drifted to my nose. An orchestra of colorful sensations tickled under my touch, smell, and hearing. A light breeze brushed against the grass, clutching my fingers. I looked up, becoming consumed by the giddy chatter of students and the few visible white wisps of clouds floating across the ever-blue sky. As the tree's branches swayed gently in the wind, my mind slowly receded into a state of calm euphoria.

The blush I had experienced today, and every other time Justin flashed me his debonair smile, was and is beyond my rational comprehension. To think, the friend I've endured painful after despair-filled after sorrowful circumstance with; the friend that has brought me endless hours of laughter, joy, and comfort; the friend that has stood by me through thick and the thin; and the cloudy and the clear, is the one I've held my heart out for, even before I could recall ever desiring love in the first place.

*Un-FUCKING-believable. I'm a full-on gay now, who's staring at his best friend all the damn time. Smooth Jake, real fucking smooth.*

I took in a breath of the fresh air, clearing my mind.

Reflecting back on our friendship, I guess I've, well, kinda' always been like this. It was subtle at first, however.

Brightening up when he came over to see me at my house, a smile would light up both on my lips and in my eyes. I could feel the adoration I had for him. I never really thought much of it.

But, the more I saw of his lightly-ruffled dirty blond hair bounding down the street, toned arms and legs supporting his sturdily-built chest, shoulders, and torso, all emphasizing his fierce, studious, soul-gazing blue-green eyes, I fell for him. Deeply.

*Jake, get a hold of yourself! You're already making it sound like you wanna' be the God damn bottom of the relationship, too!*

I frowned slightly and cocked my head as I continued to stare at the billowy white puffs above me. I felt my fingers root themselves into the ground, the soil and grass enveloping my extremities with careful touch.

Slowly, my eyes and ears fell back into focus, just in time to hear the grass rustle beneath a pair of two black Converses next to my leg. Persuading my eyes to exert energy, I stole a furtive glance towards the source of the noise.

Justin stood hovering above me, giving me a peculiar look with his striking now-hazel eyes. I caught another, more mysterious emotion flash behind them, but it disappeared almost instantaneously. Justin produced his regal smile again, then began to speak.

"Guess my eyes are even prettier than the sky, huh?" he joked. My shoulders stiffened a bit, the blush creeping back onto my face in a red wave.

"Hell no! I was just sitting here, looking at the clouds, then YOU showed up," I replied with feigned rigidity. For a moment, he went silent. He shuffled on his feet, gazing around the courtyard, trying not to look in my direction. I could sense a bit of disappointment radiating from him, but I put the thought aside.

He looked back at me, taut muscles relaxing a bit again. He eased his way down to the grass, leaning his back onto the tree. Rummaging through his bookbag, he conceived a small, colorful book. Showcasing his signature smirk, he waved it in front of my face like a piece of meat to a dog.

"Wanna help me out? You know, with this whole poetry-report-thing for Clark's class?" he pleaded with his eyes. I rolled mine, trying to hold back a satisfied grin on my face.

Justin is, politically speaking, a bit on the slower side. Having been like that ever since I first met him, I've always had to help him with all sorts of assignments.

However, my specialty was English, ESPECIALLY writing. Whenever we were assigned poetry or some form of essay, benign to Justin, I would use his handsome features as my muse. It really was pitiful how much I've drooled over him.

Despite that, Justin figured out that he could exploit my writing, and, I quote, "making up fluffy bullshit that had absolutely nothing to do with anything". Normally, Justin would make fun of people in our English classes and, becoming rather harsh, would deem the successful writers as "prissy" or "just plain stupid".

However, whenever I would present my work, he would hush the class and study me intently. God forbid anyone insulted my work, as Justin would glare murderously at them until they shut up. I always assumed he was just being the best friend he was. But, for me, I fell so hard for him, the absence of logic surreal.

My only regret with my poems was not outright dedicating them to the love for which I based them on: Justin.

Now, as a senior in high school, enduring one more difficult year of unrequited love would pale in comparison to the ten years of agony I had just suffered through, in the closet. I could handle anything at this point.

I glanced at Justin again, a smile prancing upon my lips. He was ruffling his jelled, slightly spiked, now very-blond hair, protruding a look of disgust, making me laugh out loud. He looked back over at me, scowling sarcastically and flipping me off. With an equally sarcastic tone of voice, I responded, "Now why the fuck should I be helping you, Professor Dumbass? Can't even do your own work, now can you?"

He pretended to tense up, becoming angry and twisting up his face. He pouted, crossing his arms and looking like a child who didn't get the piece of candy they wanted.

"But JAKEY! I NEED you!" he exclaimed. I couldn't help but smile at the nickname, almost experiencing a heart attack at him saying he "needed" me.

*More like I need YOU, Justin.*

"Bullshit. You just want me to do your work for you," I answered concretely.

He pouted even further, allowing himself to release a small, child-like whine from his lips. He looked adorable, eyes large and round, arms and legs all turned towards me, begging for my attention. He bit his lip softly, and playfully batted his eyelashes.

Sitting in front of him, my brain drifted off to a darkly-lit bedroom dressed in candles and scattered rose petals, with him laying on a bed clothed only by the thin, velvet comforter shielding his taut, well-defined, and tan muscles from my greedy eyes. His hair, now clinging to his forehead with damp, darkened ends shook with animation as he denied my look of lust with a small, cute shake of his head. I could already feel the tent in my pants slowly, but ever so surely, rising.

*God, I need to drown myself in some holy water.*

I returned to reality with an internal groan. "Fine, fine! I'll do it! Just give me the damn poem already," I conceded. I saw him physically relax, allowing his face to return to its normal state, a genuine smile beginning to spread. I rolled my eyes sluggishly, retrieving the book from his hand. He scooted next to me, leaning his shoulder on mine so he could see the poem better. As I began to read it aloud, I could feel his body settle into position against my side.

In retrospect, suffering through the pain of not telling him how I felt for the past ten years was torturous. However, all of the discomfort washed away with his light, warm breath settling on my chest as I relished in becoming encompassed by his vitality and presence. I felt as if I was in a dream that I never wanted to end. I truthfully can say I know what being high feels like. My love for him was beyond even my own understanding.

*I can only stretch my self-control so far, being so close to him all of the time, before I will start to crack. What am I gonna do?*

A/N: Longer than the first, but still incredibly short. *sigh*

Let me know what ya think. I, honestly, don't know how I feel about it.

But, um, yeah. Thanks for reading it! :)