She Walked In Without Knocking. [BoyXBoy]

Welcome! :D I CAME BAAACCCCKKK:D and I think y'all are gonna like this one;D it's more realistic than ITMOWYSN, but what the hell. Go look at that one too(:

So... Meet Chance, Tate, and... Sheila-_-" bitch.

XD haven't even started the damn story and I'm already hatin' on a chick!

WARNING: Contains boy on boy scenes! So if you no likey, GTFO outta my story! :P

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"Love you, too. I'll see you tomorrow. Bye."

I hung up the phone and sighed; Sheila was getting really boring, really fast. All she wanted to do was talk or have sex, neither of which I liked doing with her.

My girlfriend of nearly three years kept pressuring me to propose to her, but I couldn't. And not for the reasons I'd been giving her, either.

Little did she know, I couldn't give her the dream she wanted, with the white picket fence and two kids. I couldn't even pretend any more. There was no point.

I was completely and undeniably... Gay.

My name is Chance Ross. Yeah, my parents were cruel enough to name me Chance. Because I was a blessing, I wasn't supposed to live, blah blah blah.

I was in love with my best friend. Tate Declan. Star of the football team, quarterback, straight-A student, and president of the student council. It was our senior year and he seemed to be doing everything right.

Where he was popular, I was more laid back. I mean, sure, I was liked by the more popular crowd and all, but I chose to hang out with the potheads and druggies. Not my best choice, but they were my friends. Hell, they talked to me even though I didn't smoke or shoot up.

Sheila was one of them; she smoked weed daily, but the only thing I liked about her was that she never smelt like it. Our sophomore year, she'd asked me out, and I'd said yes. I'd been awkward and gangly back then, but I'd filled out halfway through my junior year. My black hair was kept longer than most, hanging down nearly to my shoulders, long enough to hide my amber eyes.

Everywhere I was dark, Tate was light. His blonde hair and green eyes were always spotless, and I still couldn't believe that he was my best friend.

We'd met in middle school, when, ironically, I'd saved him from being beaten up. Ever since, he'd protected me and I'd protected him.

Tate knew I was gay, and he couldn't understand why I hadn't cut it off with Sheila yet. I'd found out I was gay at a party two years ago, and still hadn't told her.

I had my suspicions, however, and figured she really wouldn't take it well. Sheila was the type of girl that carried a pocketknife tucked into her back pocket, and knew how to use it. I was the type of guy that let her.

Suddenly, I heard knocking on the front door, and I was jolted from my thoughts. Clambering out of my king-sized bed, I ran down the stairs before the sound woke my mother. She had a hangover and was trying to sleep it off.

Pulling open the heavy wooden door, I saw Tate standing there against the doorframe, grinning.

"Took you long enough, Chancey! Thought you'd died up there or something!" Tate walked past me, planting himself in the kitchen.

"Sure, come on in. Have a seat." I muttered to myself.

Grabbing two sodas out of the fridge, I tossed one to Tate.

"This isn't really a good time, Tate." I sat down across from him.

"Ah, Sheila problems?" he asked, reading the expression on my face.