"I couldn't help but stare. At her. He makes her laugh. He kisses her. She seems so happy. I want to be him. Wait. No that's not right at all. I want to be her. I want to be with him. I want to make out in the hallways and not care who sees with him. That's weird. We're both guys. It's not normal. Fuck. I can't admit to it but fuck. I wanna be held like that. Why can't I be her. She doesn't even appreciate him. " Van Gogh kept rambling. About everything going on in his head. Jealousy. Rage. Lust. Loss. Homophobia. The longer he rambled the worse it got. There was no reason really to be disgusted with himself for liking men. He's not religious. He wasn't forced into that mindset. He has no parents so it's not like they could brainwash him. It might have been something as small as a teacher making a joke or a student poking fun at him. All he knew was it's wrong to like boys. Very wrong. But then how come the feeling won't leave? No matter how wrong it is, he still loves this boy. Why? If it's wrong then why. What's stopping him from not having feelings for this boy? Stubbornness?
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Gross
FanfictionDown on the couch with your boyfriend, I need this The smell of his hair and the taste of his lips. I am hiding in the closest, but I'm not a faggot
