BLUE [BXB]

NINETEEN

Vincent allowed himself to be swayed by Ethan's lips for a second, then he abruptly pulled back and created some distance between the two. "Wait, Ethan, stop."

Ethan settled for cupping Vincent's cheek, rubbing his thumb across the soft flesh. "What's wrong?"

"Are you sure you want to do this? I don't want you freaking out again," he said, his tone guarded.

Ethan shook his head, leaning forward to place a short peck on Vincent's lips. "I'm not gonna freak out," he confirmed. "But you're right, we shouldn't do this. Not until we talk, at least."

Vincent furrowed his eyebrows, allowing Ethan to drag him towards the bed. "Talk?"

Ethan nodded as the two sat down, "I've been nothing but an asshole to you, and, for some reason, you're still friends with me. I wanna talk about it."

"You aren't always an asshole," Vincent protested. He saw the disbelieving look Ethan shot him, so he rolled his eyes and chuckled. "Okay, you might be. But it's who you are; I can deal with it."

Ethan shook his head, "You shouldn't have to. I hurt you a lot of times, and I barely did anything to make up for it. I punched you, for God's sake. Who does that?"

"Yeah, but you didn't mean to do it. I know that," he protested.

"Still," Ethan retorted. "Not like that was the only time, anyway. I called you a slur, ignored you a bunch of times...You don't deserve that."

Vincent wasn't going to lie, he appreciated the apology, especially since it was really overdue. But still, he was confused, "Where is all this coming from?"

Ethan sighed, dragging a hand across his face. "I—I wanna treat you right, Vince. Otherwise, someone else might come along and sweep you off from right under me. I can't let that happen."

Confused, Vincent furrowed his eyebrows. "What are you talking about?"

It was too dark to see, but he could still make out the slight blush tinting Ethan's prominent cheeks. Barely above a whisper, he mumbled, "I don't want anyone else to have you."

Vincent still couldn't comprehend Ethan's words, but something about them hit him right in the heart, making him feel warm all over. "What do you mean?"

Ethan looked conflicted for a second, then determination crossed his face and he nodded slowly to himself. "I mean—I like you, okay?" Vincent froze, having expected the answer but not entirely believing it. "And I don't know what that means, either. But I'm done running from my feelings. I'm done running from you."

Vincent didn't know what to think.

Ethan really liked him?

Part of him was ecstatic. To be fair, he'd been waiting for this moment since—although he'd never admit it—freshmen year. What more could he have asked for? He was the guy who—after one look—made Vincent sure he'd never be completely straight, the guy who plagued Vincent's every thought, riled him up and tainted his pure mind.

    But still, Vincent couldn't shake anxiety clawing at the back of his throat. After all, Ethan was a player, a womanizer. Who was to say this wasn't all some type of game to him? That this wasn't just an experiment? The boy had a bad feeling in his stomach; to him, the only logical way their relationship could've possibly ended was with his heart breaking.

   "Ethan, I—"

   He shook his head, holding up a hand to silence Vincent. "I know what you're thinking, and it's not true. I'm serious about this," he assured. "I can't promise you I'll be the perfect boyfriend, but I'm not asking that of you, either. But I can promise to work on myself. This is all new to me, and—I'm not gonna lie—you're gonna have to be very patient. But I'm willing to put in the effort, if you give me—give us—a chance."

   Vincent was touched. Suddenly, things started to click in his brain. Advances he'd written off as merely friendly were resurfacing from his archive, presenting themselves as blatant flirting and making him feel more like an idiot than he already did. Maybe Ethan was serious...

   "Ethan, you idiot, you know I like you," Vincent confessed cheekily, cheeks warming up as the other boy beamed at him.

   Ethan's smile was wiped as quickly as it came when he saw Vincent's face fall. His eyebrows furrowed, and his young face creased in obvious distress. Ethan tucked a stray hair away from Vincent's forehead, leaning forward to get a closer look at him. Then he whispered, "What is it?"

   "I just—I don't wanna hide," he responded weakly.

   Confused at the vague statement, Ethan shot him a questioning look. "Hide?"

   Vincent sighed. "Listen, I like you a lot, yeah? And you're saying you like me, too. But this is all new to you, and you're not ready to come out—perfectly understandable, by the way. I can't force you to, either, but a closeted relationship isn't exactly what I need right now, you know? God, I'm sorry," he rambled, not once pausing to take a breath.

   The other boy looked taken aback for a second, then he let out a soft chuckle. "Aren't you forgetting something, Van Gogh? I already came out, like, three months ago."

   Vincent's eyes went wide; he had forgotten.

   Ethan continued, smirking at the boy, "So, unless you're just making up excuses because you don't wanna be with me," Vincent scoffed. As if. "I'm willing to be open about our relationship, if we even have one. Why would I pass out a perfect chance to show you off? Make sure everyone sees you're off limits?"

   Out of everything that'd happened that night, what Ethan had just said stunned Vincent the most. A—very minuscule—part of him was somewhat expecting Ethan's interest in him, but nothing in the world could've prepared Vincent for the revelation that Ethan was willing to be with him publicly. Not only that, but the jock also had an unmistakable trace of possessiveness and jealousy oozing from his words—which, to be frank, sent a shocking jolt of pleasure down Vincent's pants.

   Now that openness was out of the way, all the other issues plaguing Vincent's mind were deemed trivial and insignificant. He didn't have the heart to worry about anything because, for once, he was happy.

   Maybe it was his excitement, his desperation, or the fact that it was Christmas, but Vincent could feel something genuine blossoming. An air of honesty and understanding and sincerity passed between the smiling boys, slapping them right in the face—in a good way. And so they leaned in, grinning widely against each other's mouths, anxiously anticipating what was yet to come.

   "Best Christmas ever."