Flirt (BoyxBoy)

Flirt~ 11 Caught

God he's still so hot, I thought to myself as Angel walked in my house, taking in its appearance.

He was still six feet tall, had the same sandy brown hair that fit him so perfectly, and those eyes - a beautiful bright green might I add - always used to captivate me so much; not to mention he had a little beard growing on his face.

Hot much? I think so.

"I see your place hasn't changed in the two years I've been gone," he pointed out, chuckling.

I smiled and followed him into the living room.

"Yeah, you know how stagnant my parents are." I ran a hand through my hair. "I think that hole we made on my tenth birthday is still in the wall by the living room couch."

He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Oh yeah, the hole from the toy car we drove into the wall! Man, it's been so long ago."

"You're right, it's been pretty long," I uttered thoughtfully, letting all of the good memories slowly sink in. "Hey, remember in seventh grade when you had that huge crush on Peter Smitten?"

Angel blushed almost immediately and his eyes widened. "That was so not a crush! Why did everyone think I liked him!"

Before Angel came to terms with his sexuality, he had numerous crushes on guys without even knowing it. Everyone - except him - could tell, and I made a big deal out of it. He swore up and down that Peter was nothing but a friend.

"Yeah right, Angel! You were smitten with Smitten!" I teased, bringing up the old tune everyone sang when Angel wasn't around. "Angie's smitten with Peter Smitten! He wants to give him big lip kisses!"

Okay we were young, don't judge us. Our choice of words weren't the most adequate.

Angel crossed his arms and looked away, trying so hard to hide his deceitful blush.

We laughed and reminisced all our good times we had together. It seemed like only yesterday we were eight years old, strolling through the park, hand in hand. We didn't think anything was wrong with holding hands with another guy. As a matter of fact, it was normal to us.

When sixth grade rolled around, we grew out of holding hands pretty quickly. The hand holding was just a phase to us. We were just normal teenage boys going through puberty - until our freshman year in high school. I won't get into the romantic cliché best-friends-falling-in-love story, but it was touching. One year later, we were exposed and forced to break up by Angel's dad.

Sad, isn't it?

"I miss the good times..." Angel sighed, running a hand through his hair. His eyes shifted to mine and I could easily see the pain he didn't bother to hide; he knew I could read him like the back of my hand.

"Yeah, me too. Do you think there will be anymore?" I questioned, giving him a hopeful look.

Something in Angel's eyes told me that he wanted to spend more time with me and look back on our past lives.

"I hope so," he said. "Just leave my father and stepmom out of the picture and life will be divine." He mumbled the last part, but I heard him perfectly.

His parents had always been homophobic. They despised gay people, bisexuals, trans people, and anything else that didn't involve being straight - including me.

"Agreed. Maybe one day they'll come to their senses and realize that gay is the way," I joked.

He chuckled lightly and rubbed the back of his neck, looking nervous. "Yeah, maybe when Taylor Swift finds love."