Falling For A Murderer (BoyxBoy)

Overreaction

"Sam what the f- heck?" Jim shouted as soon as we walked in the door, stopping himself from cursing. "Please tell me they're fake." He continued, sounding exasperated.

"Well I'll be off. Been nice knowing you Sam." I said, stepping back.

"Stay right there Jason! No one leaves until there's a reasonable explanation as to why my nephew pointlessly ruined himself with earrings!" I stepped forward, shutting the door with a satisfying click.

"RIP us." I heard Sam mutter beside me.

"Tell my parents I loved them." I whisper in agreement, earning a snigger from him.

"Well?"

"Well you can't change it now, so it doesn't matter."

"Sam you got them pierced today. They'll heal up faster than Trump can say something racist."

"It'll be a waste of money if you do."

"Only 10 quid, not anything to lose sleep over."

"What would I do with the spare pair?" Jim face contorted in confusion and anger.

"I think you just rubbed salt in the wound, Sam." I whispered.

"Wait what does that mean?" He glanced at me.

"It means that you just fucked up and made it worse."

"You bought a spare pair?" Jim questioned.

"Yeah, I mean I'm not going to wear the same ones all the time."

"You shouldn't be wearing any!" Sam's uncle countered.

"Why not? Why can't I do something that I wanted to?" He continued before Jim could reply. "Because most of my life I've spent cowering in fear and pain, working just so I wouldn't starve, only to just have the money wasted on alcohol so that... Thing that called itself my father could spend every night using me as it's punching bag and... And..." He cried, breaking down at the harsh memories of his late father. He ran upstairs and we heard the unmistakable slam of a door, but no lock being turned. I safely assumed he was in his room and not the bathroom, which could have brought much worse consequences.

"What the fuck Jim? So what? He wanted to do something for himself and you get mad at him? The kid hasn't had a childhood and you get angry because he did something for himself and didn't ask permission." I said, before quickly following Sam's path to his room. I knocked twice on his door, and didn't need to wait for a reply.

"Go away, Jim." Sam sniffled from inside.

"Sam? It's me, your boyfriend. Definitively not your 28 year old uncle." There was the unmistakable sound of bed springs creaking and a slight shuffling from inside. The door opened slightly to reveal a pair of piercing blue eyes, glossed over from unshed tears. To see him like this still pained me, even if it was only the result of a petty argument.

I pushed the door open as he stepped back a bit, shutting it softly behind me. I glanced quickly around his room, the light from the cheap bulb not quite hitting every corner and crevice, hiding secrets in more usually open areas.

I look back to my boyfriend. My boyfriend. I smiled at the thought. My adorable blue-eyed boyfriend.

"Why are you smiling like that?" Words came from the lips I hadn't noticed I was looking at. They were a whisper, and a soft, hushed voice so calmly spoke them.

"Just thinking."

"About....?" He prompted innocently.

"You." I smiled.