Lessons On Kissing Guys (BoyxBoy)

Chapter 14

*A/N: IT HAS BEEN SO DIDDLY DARN LONG, I AM SORRY, REALLY. I'm going to try not to ramble, but I just want to say thank you for the continuous support I've received in terms of this story. I know it's been ages since I've updated, but things have been difficult and writing isn't on the top of my list of things to do right now. I don't know how long it's going to take me to update, but I hope you guys can bear with me. Thank you all, again.*

It's been a couple of days since Blair and I have spoken, and I'm confused as fuck. I've never gone this long without talking to someone I want to talk to before. If I want to talk to someone, I'll do it. Simple as that. No point beating around the bush when you have something to say. 

But suddenly, it's different. I don't know how. But it's just that my voice seems to have stopped working, and I want to say something to him, but every time I go to, I can't. The only time I've seen him in the past three days, was this morning, and that was not something I'd want to repeat.

I had gone downstairs to get some breakfast, as usual. Except, it wasn't as usual, because as I stood in front of the cupboard filled with bowls and plates, I heard someone else walking into the room. I had hoped that it was just a maid (yes, Blair has maids, he's well off), but when I had turned around, it was Blair. The bowl I'd been holding almost fell from my hands. 

"Uh-" I turned back around, the syllable escaping my lips and leaving me to cower away in embarrassment. I had ended up leaving my bowl on the counter and walking upstairs with the orange juice I had made myself before Blair came in. 

Never again do I want to repeat that experience.

Right now though, my brain is just a jumbled mess. How the fuck did we get here? I will happily show Blair affection when we're at home, on our own (for the most part anyway, although I tend to fuck that up, too), but as soon as there's any chance that someone I know might be around, I feel like I'm committing a crime. 

I mean, I used to be the guy who internally made snide remarks about any openly gay man I saw. I would never repeat them aloud, but still. It was like my brain made this automatic judgement of everyone I saw, and I was brought up to believe that gay equals bad. 

Like in school, how everyone used to say, "that's so gay!" whenever someone did something embarrassing or stupid or annoying. I don't know, but I guess it's like someone's turned on a switch in my mind that's made me believe that gay is not good at all, and I'm trying to turn off the goddamn switch, but there are only about a million obstacles in the way of it. I can see it on a wall though, and it seems close but each time I try to reach it, I face another obstacle.

So basically, I've fucked up my own views of myself and what I am.

Ha, how great.

Sighing, I pull out my laptop. I need to make this up to Blair, and yeah, it's gonna take more than what I have planned for him, I'm sure. But either way, I'm right to work on it.

I grab for my coat, that I had left sprawled across the floor after mine and Blair's date those few days ago. Inside the pocket, I'm thankful to find there's still the memory stick I left there. Considering the fact that I don't have anywhere near enough money to get myself the camera I so desperately want, and I refuse to ask Blair for it, I'm going to have to use some old (and unfortunately terrible) video clips I have saved on here. Plugging the memory stick into the laptop, and opening up it's content, I start working my way through the videos, hoping that I have something of value in here.

It's midnight when I've finally finished looking through the clips and categorising them by their dates and usability, along with their contents. Trust me, categorising old videos is hard work, especially when the majority is terrible and there are so many small clips to work with.