misfire ♕ jorbyn

ǝuo

corbyn's feet hit the cement as he pushed himself to run faster. he was chasing his best mate, daniel, and his breathing was shallow. they were joking and laughing just like they were every sunday. when he finally caught up to the brunette, he grabbed his hand. "shut up, you asshole!" corbyn heard himself say while hitting the back of daniel's head. he covered his mouth quickly, glancing around to make sure no one had heard. church-goers didn't take well to that kind of accusation.
"all i'm saying is that christina is totally in love with you." daniel repeated, and corbyn made it a point to look disgusted. "look, daniel. we're just friends. there is no way in hell that i would ever date harris." he was quiet, his gaze falling away from daniel. his blue eyes immediately became trained on chocolate hair, and a lit cigarette.
jonah was the boy in class that never did any work. he's the kid that should be failing but isn't. he's always either smirking or brooding, and corbyn doesn't know which is more attractive. they meet eyes, and jonah smiles and nods his head once. corbyn just looks away, a blush spreading from his cheeks down to his neck. he could feel the staring. jonah was still looking at him, and for some god forsaken reason, it excited corbyn.
"stop checking out marais. what would your father say if he found out you were oggling that tatted, smoking, careless rebel. i mean seriously corbyn. he would probably hate you enough if you were staring at a decent guy." daniel said, and corbyn pushed him once a bit harder than necessary.
"shut up! it's not like that, okay?" he said nervously before hopping in the passengers seat. no one knew about corbyn's secret fantasies and the uncertainty he had about his sexual orientation. he thought guys were attractive, but he liked girls too...a little, at least. daniel began driving home, and they blasted the radio. "let's make the most of the night like we're gonna die young!" corbyn screamed. they sped down the empty streets enthusiastically, a smile present on each face. the terrain was flying past the windows and corbyn clapped his hands, letting out an exuberant laugh.
daniel slowed the car down, pulling into the blonde's driveway. "thanks, dani." he said softly before leaning in and pecking his cheek. daniel made a face. "now, what would your father say." he said, and corbyn rolled his eyes. "not all of us do everything daddy says." he replied slyly, getting out of the car and slamming the door. daniel shook his head, glaring while he drove away.
corbyn ran up to his front door, opening it and treading inside. as always, his younger brother beat him home, and was lounging around in the living room, flipping through channels. corbyn weaved through the kitchen, eating random bits of food before making himself some lunch. he took his plate upstairs to his room, the only place he could really be true to himself. opening his laptop, he received a skype call from daniel.
"the fuck do you want, dani." he said, slightly annoyed. daniel grinned at him. "oh, nothing, just thought i'd let you know that i have a date with one of my sister's friends." he bragged. corbyn rolled his eyes. "which friend? the incredibly sexy one? angelina?" he questioned and daniel nodded going on to spend what seemed like forever, giving corbyn the details.
while the younger boy spoke, corbyn found his mind wandering. the blue eyes were analyzing the expanse of daniel's chest. he had broad shoulders and sculpted muscles and delicious v-lines, and corbyn wished he could pin his feeling as envy. he could see daniel's muscles working when he shifted, and that alone was enough to make the blond's mouth water. "corbyn?" daniel asked, and the blonde jumped. "y'know if you don't care, i'll let you go. you don't need to pretend that you're interested." he said, and corbyn shook his head. "i'm just distracted. it's not that i don't care. i'm excited for you." he said, but daniel just shook his head. "nah, it's cool. i love you, corbyn. see you at school tomorrow." he said, and the younger boy just nodded once before ending the call.
his head hit the pillows as he fell back, groaning loudly. online, it said that he was normal for being curious, but he didn't feel normal. he felt isolated, alone. his head was twirling in not-so-graceful circles, and he couldn't think straight. his daddy would always tell him that whenever you were unsure look to god or something like that. but corbyn could physically feel the big man upstairs turning his back, looking away disgusted. "being gay is wrong." he hears that a lot at church, and it confuses the hell out of him.
why would god damn his children for loving? because you can't procreate? because it's sinful? unnatural? no, he would tell himself. god can't be that careless. they tell us to love every man so what's horrible about loving other men? it's wrong and deceitful and he knows. god, he's well aware but then can't find the will to stop and it scares him so much. he wants to run from any type of feeling, but that would be wrong too. he's wrong no matter what. it makes him feel sick to his stomach.
his hands moved the plate aside absentmindedly, and he stood up, rushing to the bathroom, locking the white door quickly. sinful. his mind hissed. that boy in the mirror is a sin. and he shook his head, willing the thoughts to stop, but they didn't. his legs collapsed as the twirling, whirling words clouded his vision. if you look at a boy again, you're going to hell, faggot. is that what you want? to spend an eternity burning? because that's what will happen to people like you. he told himself. it was his mind doing this, and he couldn't silence it. the sensation was intensely weird, to be literally fighting his conscience. it was hurting him. he was hurting himself internally, and he couldn't stop the words.
he was reduced to a shaking, crying mess on his bathroom floor. he didn't move for hours. "i'm sorry." he heard himself whimper. "i don't mean it." his face had gone red and he was sweating and the anxiety was eating away at his soul. "stop it." he pleaded, his face was wet, and he couldn't tell where his sobs were starting or ending, and he couldn't remember when he took his last breath. but when the darkness came, he had never been so happy.
——
he woke up alone on the bathroom floor, the door still locked, his hair still messed up, and his shirt still damp. it all seemed surreal. it happened every once in a while. he would lock himself in a bathroom while he had some sort of mental breakdown, and when he woke up, his mind silenced itself, seeming pleased with it's own work. it scared him when he thought about it. how his own subconscious could rise up and lash out the way it did. it was hard to remember because he couldn't think well enough while it was happening. he washed his face and drudged to bed, tiredly, falling asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.
——
on monday, he woke up tired. the bags under his eyes almost made him look dead, and his hair wouldn't stay put, not that he honestly cared all that much. he threw on a t-shirt and some jeans, heading outside and waiting for daniel.
the drive was silent on corbyn's part.
when they got to school, daniel pulled him in for a tight, lingering hug because is was obvious that he needed it, and corbyn almost started crying again because, god, daniel was the best person ever. when they separated, corbyn smiled sadly, and daniel leaned in, kissing his cheek. "just don't tell dad." he teased before walking off, and corbyn bit his lip.
the whole morning, he was jumpy and distracted, not focusing at all until he got into his last class of the day. he didn't exactly focus on the lesson. his mind was completely centered on one person. he didn't let himself think enough for it to become a problem.
of course, he had math with jonah every day, but there was something about him that particular day. he was dressed simply, loose dark-wash jeans that hung dangerously low on his hips, the waistband of his calvin klein boxers visible underneath his baseball tee-shirt. it was white with navy sleeves. it was on days like these that corbyn found jonah especially interesting. he almost looked clean cut.
but you could see the lines of tattoos on his arms, and corbyn's pretty damned sure that he can see a pack of cigarettes in his pocket. jonah marais almost looks like a good guy, the kind you would introduce to your parents.
almost.
so here he was, chewing on the top of a blue pen while he should be taking notes, unable to tear his eyes away from a sharp jawline, and in that moment, corbyn knows that it's not confusion. it's not a phase. he wouldn't "get better" in a couple months.
sinful, that's exactly how he would describe the feelings. he wanted to pin the boy to a mattress or a wall or bend him over a table. he wanted to be pleasures by those sinful lips that looked damn good around cigarettes. he wanted to kiss him all teeth and tongue. he wanted to be absolutely filthy, and to say that it scared him would be an understatement.
—————————————————————————————

well that was a rollercoaster,.. WELCOME TO MISFIRE LADIES AND GENTLEMEN

quickly i would like to say, you can imagine the boys wearing whatever you want and jonah's tattoos are just the ones he has now but feel free to imagine that he has more (: