After a short eternity of reticence and not a lot of finished homework, Brandon threw down his pencil and threw himself onto his bed, burrowing his face into the pillow. Justin looked up from his novel and studied the pile of human on the bed.
“Uhhh, you okay?”
“A peach has laid,” moaned Brandon, his words muffled by fluffiness.
“A what now?”
Brandon peeled himself from the mattress and took a deep breath. “ITHINKI’MGAY,” he blurted, then slammed his face back into the covers. He mumbled another phrase, which was also eaten by the bed.
“You know I can’t hear you.”
“For you!”
The silence that followed was deafening.
“Are you high?”
“Nooooooooooooooo.”
“Please explain,” spoke Justin, rolling the words slowly off his tongue.
Brandon sighed and lay down on his bed. He stared at the ceiling, quickly prayed to Shrek, and began his story.
“I’ve only liked you since we started high school. Sure, I hated that chick you dated 2 years back, but whatever. Amanda wasn’t your type anyways. We never really hung out before band camp, but ever since you joined drumline we’ve gotten really close. We shared the same interests, sense of humor, and you were hot. I knew that I had a crush on you when I started instinctively watching you from the percussion section and wishing that the oboes could be closer to percussion. The whole time, all I could think of was how great you could blow into your reed and how nimble your fingers were, dancing across your oboe. I knew that you were Christian, so I’ve always assumed you were a phobe, so I never told you how I felt.” Brandon sat up and forced a grim smile, “It’s just a crush. I’ll get over it.”
Justin saw the hint of tears that rimmed Brandon’s eyes. He felt a twang in his chest, but kept himself from comforting his fresh-out-the-closet friend. “Aren’t your brothers home?”
Brandon sniffled and shook his head. “They’re at a friend’s house for the night. My parents are gone too. I’ll make some tea.” He walked out of the room, leaving Justin to his thoughts.
How did I not see this earlier... We were so close, yet I had no clue. He can’t really like me... Can he? Oh Christ... he was always there for me and I told him everything about my life. He always listened, especially when I told him about that one night with Amanda. I knew there was something wrong about that girl, but was it my fault that I didn’t enjoy it? Oh shit shit shit... He felt the tightness in his pants, and realized that there was only one person that could make him so excited. Heh. Well, I guess that makes two of us, Brandon. Brandon walked back in, carrying a steaming mug of black tea.
“One sugar, right?” He asked, handing Justin the mug. Their fingers brushed, and neither made a move to remove their hand.
“Heh. You know I like it sweet,” winked Justin. He took the mug and set it down on the desk behind them. He pulled Brandon down onto the bed and they sat facing each other. The air was edgy, and Justin knew he had to take his chance before he lost the balls to confess. “Brandon. We’ve grown so close these last two years, and you’re the best friend a guy could ask for. And you were right. Amanda was a bitch. Hell, all females are bitches. The truth is, I’ve been dwelling on this for a while, and what just happened made me convinced what I was thinking was right. I like you Brandon. You’re such a great person, and you’re so strong and brave. Your good looks used to bother me so much, but now I understand why. That was my heart fluttering, telling me that you were the one meant for me, not some weird skank. Please Brandon. Accept my feelings. Also I really want to touch your abs.”
Brandon stared open-mouthed at the confession. His face broke into a large grin and he laughed as he pinned Justin to the bed. He leaned closer and closed his eyes, and their lips softly made contact. Both tilted their heads to the right, and Brandon slipped his tongue into Justin’s barely parted lips. Justin’s hair is soft and bunched up in Brandon’s fist. Justin tugged at Brandon’s shirt as their tongues danced and their breathing grew ragged and urgent. Brandon’s hands slid to Justin’s face, which he held as they pulled apart for the briefest of moments. As quickly as they parted, their lips locked again, and their tongues fought for dominance in their mouths.
“Clothes are stupid,” said Justin. Brandon replied by throwing his tee off and helping Justin out of his plaid. “Wow...” Justin traced a finger along his friend’s firm, rock solid abs. “I didn’t know about these...” His voice trailed off, along with his pants. Justin pushed Brandon onto the bed and straddled his hips.
