Mean What You Say (Emblem3 Fanfiction)

So, this is extremely late and I apologize. This is the first part of the prequel, with the next part coming up as soon as I finish it (which shouldn't be too long, hopefully!). This goes into detail about how Drew and Wesley "got together" the first time and how they got to the point where we first read about them in Say What You Mean.

Shout out to the lovely Amber, without whom I would have never been able to write this. She's been a source of inspiration and a shoulder to cry on when I got too emotional. I love you, Amber!

I hope you guys enjoy! 

OoO

Fifteen year old Wesley Stromberg grinned as he caught the football that had been thrown to him smoothly, almost immediately breaking into a sprint to try and score. The other boys in his neighborhood were chasing him, but he was quarterback on his school's team for a reason and none of them managed to touch him. When he threw the ball down on the area that had been designated for scoring, he let out a whoop and searched the group of boys for his brother, tackling the light brunet to the ground when he spotted him.

"WESLEY!" Keaton groaned, trying to squirm out from under him. The twelve year old hated it when Wesley play fought with him, because all the other guys were around fifteen or sixteen and they all thought of Keaton as a kid who had been allowed to play with them because his older brother was cool. The light brunet hated this and tried to act as adult as possible.

"What's wrong, Keaters?" Wesley let out an 'oof' when his little brother threw him off, landing hard on his hip but ignoring the pain. He chose instead to laugh at Keaton, who was patting down his shorts and glaring at him.

"You're going to get mud on me," the younger boy hissed so only Wesley could hear.

"Dude, you're playing football, that's kind of unavoidable," the older brother snickered before holding out a hand. "Help me up?"

"As if," Keaton sniffed, turning on his heel and stalking off.

Rolling his eyes, Wesley was about to push himself up on his own when someone caught his still outstretched hand and hauled him up, forcing him to bump into a chest that was much more solid and broader than his own. "Your brother sure is girly."

Wesley found himself flushing- oh jesus, why here? Why now?- and he looked up at the boy, forcing an awkward smile as he pulled away. "Only a little."

Drew Chadwick laughed, and the sound made Wesley feel fluttery and weird. He'd know for a while, since he was thirteen, that something about the blond got him flustered, but no one else knew and he meant to keep it that way. He wasn't gay, he didn't like guys, and this thing with Drew was... a phase. Just a phase.

"He looks like he styled his hair," Drew pointed out.

"So he likes to look good," Wesley shrugged, feeling like he should defend his brother. "So what?"

"He doesn't need to make an effort, he looks good naturally," the blond shot him a look. "Something that runs in the family, I see."

Wesley ducked his head embarrassedly, knowing his cheeks were bound to be bright red. He and Drew didn't talk much, due to the fact the brunet usually avoided him because of his confusing feelings, and this was the first time anything remotely flirty or sexual had been said. It made his stomach churn. "Uhm, thanks."

"No problem," Drew's eyes dropped from Wesley's face and the younger boy fought the urge to cover his bare chest- his shirt had been discarded long ago because of the heat and the way he was sweating due to the game of football. "You're pretty good at football, you know."