Chapter 1: In the right lighting (SOMEWHAT EDITED)

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After we outgrew our last friend group, Kairo and I decided that the two of us were enough for each other. Trying to fit in exhausted us, especially when we were made to feel like outsiders instead of part of the group.

Maybe it was the way we acted—the inside jokes we shared, the way we hugged each other so easily and held on just a little too long. You know, stuff that homies do. Kairo and I were comfortable enough that we never considered what we did as "gay" until someone in our last friend group pointed it out.

Kairo and I laughed so hard because we didn't care how people saw us, gay or straight. Two guys could have a deep connection as friends without anyone jumping to the conclusion that "they're definitely gay."

But something shifted one day.

It was the way I saw Kairo. You know how you can look at something plainly, but then, when the right amount of light hits it, you suddenly see the beauty you missed before? That's how I started seeing my homie Kairo. It was the gentle curve of his pouty lips and the mischievous glint in his blue eyes whenever I caught his attention.

I gave every meaningless thing he did a deeper meaning, but I always circled back to that one thing: friends. We were—just friends.

That Saturday afternoon, I woke up in Kairo's bed. My face was buried in his pillow—the red fabric soft against my skin, smelling like coconuts and fresh linen. Comforting scents I'd come to associate with Kairo. He was asleep on the floor, like he always was when I stayed over, and he never complained when I took over his king-size bed.

I grabbed the pillow next to me and swung it down, smacking Kairo right in the face. He grunted.

"Wake your bitch ass up. I'm hungry," I said.

Kairo snatched the pillow from his face and threw it back up into his bed. I hung over the edge, looking down at him.

"You're fucking annoying, Noah," Kairo muttered, sitting up and stretching his arms over his head. He sleeps without a shirt, just boxers. His long blond hair looked like a crazy mess. For a moment, Kairo just stares at me, and then he smiles—a half-sleepy one. Not fully awake, but in between, not wanting to be awake just yet.

"I see your lips moving, but I'm still not seeing you moving to make my food..."

Kairo finally dragged himself downstairs to the kitchen, where I was waiting. He touched my face, annoying me. I swatted at his hands.

"Did you wash your hands?"

He grinned. "Nope. Played with my balls too."

"Fucking gross, man." I roughly wiped at my face while he rummaged through the fridge.

"What do you wanna eat?"

"McDonald's."

"You're a fat fuck."

HOMIES | BXB | WMBM | Completed ✅Where stories live. Discover now