What Happened in Winter [boyxboy]

Chapter Eleven

Greyson POV

A brown hand landed harshly on Greyson's desk, snatching his attention away from his Nintendo Switch. He was just about to beat the next boss in Pokémon: Shield (he felt guilty that Sword was always everyone's first choice, so he chose the less popular game version).

He scrunched his face up, his almost-invisible eyebrows knit together. He met bright green eyes and blonde hair that framed a gorgeous face. Kyle's lips were pulled back in a toothy grin; Grey noticed how sharp his canines were, almost dog-like. Feral and mean. Greyson wasn't oblivious to Kyle's reputation and Greyson himself had been a half-hearted target. Kyle had never been violent with Greyson. He only did mildly inconvenient and tremendously irritating things like throwing paper balls at him, knocking his books off his desk, calling him names behind his back, the list went on.

But, Kyle simply stopped one day and Greyson had a suspicion it had to do with Jayson's death. Everything seemed to come right down to Greyson's brother's death, but no one ever talked about it. It was the giant, horribly misshapen metaphorical elephant in the room and it followed Greyson everywhere he went. It was the bloodthirsty leech on his chest that he didn't have the strength to pull off.

"Hey, do you wanna walk to the bus stop? I don't think we ride the same bus, but..." Kyle trailed off, his confident mask slipping. Greyson smiled, picturing Kyle as less of a demented stray dog and more of a lost puppy.

"Um, I drive. M-my own car. It's in the parking lot," Greyson stuttered, still thinking of how cute Kyle looked.

"O-oh," Kyle said, obvious disappointment on his face. Greyson's heart skipped a beat, not wanting the other boy to get the wrong idea.

"No! No, uh, I mean, I could drive you home. If you wanted." Grey could feel his face heating up in embarrassment. He still couldn't believe he asked this guy to be his friend so earnestly earlier, never mind the fact it was mid-monumental meltdown in the boy's restroom. Greyson couldn't have friends anymore because none of them understood. Except for Craft, but he was teetering on the edge as well. Only Greyson was able to see it, though.

But, this boy was different. Strange out-of-place like Greyson. And that new boy, he was odd, too. Not as easy to read as Kyle and more... sharp. Like a knife.

Kyle's feline-like eyes widened and his jaw dropped a little bit, lips searching for words that hadn't quite reached his brain yet. "Yes. That-that sounds very good, yes." Grey thought he could detect a Spanish accent that wasn't normally there. 'Does he try to hide his accent? Or is it a nervous thing?' Greyson wondered. It was intriguing to him, nonetheless.

Kyle POV

'Oh, wow,' Kyle thought dumbly when he saw Greyson's vomit-inducing-ly expensive car.

"Is that a-."

"BMW i8. Yeah. My dad got it for me. I don't really like it, but I'm not going to turn down a free car," Greyson said. Kyle pulled open the stark white door, dumbfounded. He had never ridden in something so nice before.

"Don't just say stuff like that. People will start thinking your cocky and pretentious. Be gracious for what you have," Kyle laughed when Greyson got in the car.

Greyson looked over at Kyle and sucked in a breath, his hands fiddling with the ends of his hair. Kyle felt a pit of dread drop into his stomach, reaching for Greyson's arm.

"Wait, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings," Kyle said, his hand slipping a bit, pulling Greyson's sleeve down. Greyson quickly pulled his arm away, his chest heaving quickly.

'Oh. So it's like that,' Kyle thought starkly. He licked his lips, looking up from Greyson's arm (which was tightly pressed against his body) to his fearful grey eyes. Kyle held a hesitant hand out, his eyes locked with Greyson. "I'm not asking to see them, but I'm asking you to give me whatever it is you use to hurt yourself so I can get rid of it."

Greyson was pallid, sweat gathering on his top lip. "I have more at home," he mumbled.

"What you do at home is your business. But, when I'm around you, I don't want you to carry it on you. I don't want to know you're doing this with me around because I'm your friend and... as long as I'm around... I want you to feel safe," Kyle said, his hand never wavering, but his eye contact was broken multiple times. He heard Greyson make a tiny, strangled squeak and heard the car door creak faintly with the added weight of Greyson's body pressed against it.

Kyle closed his eyes and started to pull his hand away when something small and cold fell into his open palm. He started to open his eyes, but Greyson threw his own hands over Kyle's face.

"Please don't look! Please," Greyson pleaded, his chest heaving, his hot breathe whispering over Kyle's face. He was thankful for a moment that Grey's hands covered a good majority of his, for he was more red than a tomato.

"Okay, okay. What do you want me to do?" Kyle asked.

"Um...," Greyson said, thinking silently. Once he had the idea, he drew his hands hesitantly from Kyle's face. "Keep your eyes closed. I'll guide your hand to a place in your backpack to keep it."

Kyle gave Greyson the most skeptical look he could give with his eyes closed. "How do I know you won't just sneak in my back pack and take it before I get out of the car? You'll know the exact place to get it back and I won't."

"I promise you. I promise you I won't," Greyson said in that abnormally confident voice. Kyle had to fight every urge that bubbles up inside him not to look at the boy in front of him.

Greyson POV

He unzipped Kyle's gaudy Gucci bag. Kyle had acted to surprised at Greyson's expensive car, yet he owned a backpack that wasn't at all cheap. 'Hm,' Greyson thought to himself, but didn't elaborate anything more. He wanted to see how this played out and didn't want to run this strange boy away, someone Grey really thought he could have a friendship with.

"Okay, I'm gonna take your hands now," Greyson said aloud, taking Kyle's much bigger hands in his. Greyson felt his heart jump again at the sudden physical connection. He didn't let himself think about it for too long, fearing he would start to think too much. He guided Kyle's hands to the open pocket in the backpack and said, "You can let go. It's in the zipper pocket in the back. You can't miss it."

Kyle let go and the blade unceremoniously fell into the backpack pocket. He fumbled with the zipper (his eyes were still closed) and finally pulled it shut. He opened his eyes and Greyson's heart constricted. Kyle was easier to resist with his eyes closed and he wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing.