Cold and Charisma (BoyxBoy)

Chapter Twenty-One

"I just finished a two-hour long try-out, sweating my ass off, and you think I'd want to hang out at your fucking house?!" Riley said, basically screaming into my ears. I swear there was smoke coming out of his ears.

Maybe he was right – I really should've been more considerate. The kid had to go through a gruesome afternoon of kicking a ball around in ninety degree weather, I should've cut him some slack today.

But no – if I don't keep pushing, there's not gonna be any progress. And you know what they say, 'No pain, no gain.' And trust me, he'd wanna gain what I was about to give to him.

As people walked past my car, walking their dog, or going for a jog, they all knitted their eyebrows in confusion at the commodity happening inside my car, with the cause of it being Riley's deafening yells.

"I swear to god, Archer! – I've done literally everything you asked me to – I put on this stupid jersey, went to that stupid try-out, and then agreed to get into your stupid car!" I think he really likes the word, 'stupid', I don't know though. A smirk crept onto my face, and I wanted to reach out and squish his red face.

A chuckle left my mouth, and I looked away for a second, before looking back at him again, staring into his ice-cold eyes, "I know, I should've asked first, I'm sorry Riley.. But, I promise you this will be fun." I said, my smile ever-so-present.

"When has hanging out with you ever been fun.." He muttered, more like he was stating a fact than asking a question. "Well, every time we've hung out, I've managed to make you at least smile. Not a lot of people can say they've made thee Riley Lachkov smile." I said, a proud smile on my face as I nodded my head confidently.

Expectedly, he groaned and rolled his eyes, "Ugh, you know what, I'm too tired to argue with you right now. Fine, we can hang out at your house–but don't try anything like you did last time, pervert. I told you, I don't swing–"

"I know. When did I ever say I swung that way? Can't two guys lay in the same bed as friends?" I shrugged, trying to play it off as nonchalant when I knew that night had replayed in my head everyday since it happened. I couldn't let him think it was a big deal, otherwise he'd just straight-up ignore me.

"Whatever, I'm not getting on your bed even if you begged me to." He crossed his arms, and in a second, he opened the door and got out. I followed after, taking the keys out and jogging up to him to walk alongside him.

Once we got to my room, I closed the door and turned on the air conditioning for him, trying to make him feel as comfortable as possible. "You can lay on my bed if you want – I know you said you don't want to, but I promise I'll keep my distance."

I put my hands up in defense, and waited to see how he'd react to my offer. I know that if I played soccer for an entire afternoon, the first thing I'd wanna do is crash on a bed, no matter whose it is. "Fine, but don't even think about getting near me. I can't deal with you right now."

Riley wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his jersey, and immediately jumped onto my bed, his body landing with a thud. He looked so adorable – face buried in my sheets, hair tousled, limbs spread apart like he was trying to make a snow-angel.

Knowing he couldn't see me, I took this as a chance to let myself smile at the sight in front of me. Seriously, how could anyone hate him? When I see him, all I wanna do is shield him away from the world. Ugh, what's wrong with me..

Suddenly, his voice interrupted my thoughts, although muffled by the sheets his face was plunged into, "Gimme water.." He said, almost impolitely if not for how soft and adorable he sounded. I've always found him to be more endearing when he's tired; no snarky remarks, no insults, just a genuine innocence that he's scared to show people.