Loving Another (Drit)

Chapter 9

Fluff!

Drake just happened to turn his head, catching the time. It was only 10 pm. He sighed and sat down on the couch, lost in thought. Does he like me? That way? Why hadn't I noticed before? Am I that oblivious? Drake moved an eye to look at Whit, who was standing beside the couch, unmoving. What was going on in Whit's head was sad and scary stuff: I just embarrassed myself in front of Drake! I don't even like him that way! Yeah he's handsome... And when he's blushing, he's cute... What am I thinking?! I shouldn't be liking him! I need to start to like females again!

Drake sighed, snapping the two back to reality. "Um... You should... Probably get... Ready..." Whit cleared his throat. Drake nodded and stood.

"You have to come with me." Drake spoke. Whit grew confused, so Drake continued, "Because I drove you home and you don't have your car." Whit nodded and walked with Drake out to the car, turning and locking the door. Drake got in the car, Whit in the passenger seat.

"Are you mad at me?" Whit asked, avoiding Drake's gaze. He fiddled with his fingers awkwardly. "I-I mean... You're s-straight... And all... And I'm b-bisexual... But... And--" Whit cut off when Drake leaned over and grabbed Whit's chin. For a brief second, Whit prayed he'd get kissed, but instead Drake sighed, smiled, then let go of Whit's chin.

"Do I look angry?" Hurdan asked, going back to turn the car on and drive off. Whit shook his head, and sighed in relief. Good. Drake drove on in silence, his eyes narrowed in thought. "If you know I'm straight, why do you do what you do?" Drake asked, "I'm just curious. Not angry at all." He quickly added.

"Because... I like you... And... I was just wondering... If perhaps... You had changed..." Whit mumbled lowly, staring intently at the window. For the rest of the way to Drake's, no man spoke, both too lost in their thoughts.

"We're here." Drake spoke, startling Whit. Drake got out, and Whit followed the older man into the house. Drake went upstairs quickly to get dressed, so Whit took a small tour around the second floor.

After about five or so minutes of silence, Whit began to worry, so he went up to Drake's room, only to see him staring at the mirror, rubbing the large, nasty scar on his chest with his shirt pulled up. Whit scowled. Why hadn't I noticed that when I took his shirt off? Perhaps I got too lost in the excitement.

Drake sighed and rubbed his right temple, mumbling something softly as he turned to pull his shirt down. He fixed his pants, but Whit didn't see it because he scooted quickly downstairs and rushed over to the couch to sit down. Drake came back downstairs, seeing that Whit was holding a picture that Drake kept on his coffee table.

"Is this your mother?" Whit asked, looking up at Drake. Hurdan sat beside Whit, a little close, and looked at the picture. Whit noticed Drake's face soften and take the picture, rubbing his thumb lightly over the picture.

"Yes... She was the prettiest woman I have ever met... It's a sad thing she married that monster," he sighed, "This was at my baseball game... I don't play it anymore, but if I could, I would." Drake set the picture down and stood. "We should get going." Drake wasn't looking, and he pointed at the clock spot-on.

I guess if you live in the same house for your whole life, you get the gist of it... Whit though as he stared at the clock then hurried after Drake. The two got to the car and got in, then Drake drove them off to the pizzeria.

About a half an hour later they reached the pizzeria at 11:10. Drake took in a deep breath and put his head on the wheel and mumbled lowly.

"How many sports did you play?" Whit asked. Drake looked at him, then realized what he said and sat straight.

"A few. Hockey, baseball, soccer, football..." Drake shrugged. "Not lots, I'm afraid." He sighed and leaned back in his chair. Whit nodded, looking out to his car longingly.

"When did you stop playing?" Whit asked, trying to make conversation to pass the time.

"After... That." Drake mumbled, making a gun motion to his head.

Whit nodded, grabbing Drake's hand and putting it back down. "Tell me, was that you mother in that picture?" He asked; Drake sniffed and nodded. "What was she like?"

"She... She was the best mother anyone could ever ask for... She was so sweet and caring..." Drake sat straight. "She always looked to the bright side, even when that monster began to hurt us. I got the worst of it-- anyways, my mother recovered a lot quickly after his death, and she knew that I was struggling. It's my first death, come on!

And me and mom had gotten closer than before because he always kept me away from her. Me and my mom have been through a lot, and it was always so fun when the power went out because we'd pull the bed out of the couch and sit under a blanket with a flashlight and talk to each other until the power came on or we both fell asleep."

Whit gave Drake a disgusted look at the last part, "You slept with your mother?!" He asked.

"Dude. Wouldn't yo-" Drake cut himself off.

"Wouldn't I what, Drake? What wouldn't I have done? Tell me!" Whit demanded.

"Wouldn't you do the same? But clearly you couldn't because you never knew your mother!"

Whit gasped, then narrowed his eyes, "At least my father loved longer!"

Silence. Drake's eyes were clouded in sadness. He took in a deep breath, then glared at Whit.

"At least I knew my mother." He argued.

"At least I helped my dad!"

Drake got out the car, shutting the door harshly. "Get out of my car!" Drake shouted.

Whit got out, shaking. Drake checked the time before striding into the pizzeria and pushing into the Office, being kind enough to flip the animatronics off. Whit sat as far from Drake as he could, his eyes shifted to the floor with a scowl.

Poor Whit...

*snaps in Z formation* Oh no he d-idnt!

Hoped you enjoyed! Next chapter will be sweet, I promise :3