Matthew

As I stared out to the rural setting, I heard the car stop. My father then let out a deep breath in and out, before turning his vision to me and smiling slightly.

"We're here"

I didn't dare look him in the eyes, rather letting a quick smile drop from my lips before blinking aimlessly at the glove compartment. The feeling of the turning and grasping of my lungs, my stomach, filled me with nostalgic dismay. The feeling of feeling emotions grasps you inside and out, making you shake with anticipation and cry in an anxious dread. Shook me until I felt myself breaking.

So I dared tell my self the lie that ;

"I'm straight so nothing can and will happen"

I knew I was lying but I was so hesitant to accept it so I rather be a straight heterosexual male, whether it meant lying to everyone including myself or not. It didn't matter because what truly did.

We stepped out of the car to be greeted by the screeching tires of James' father's car. They came out of the car, his father first with a blue and black duffle bag hung upon his shoulder. Soon followed James with a cadet blue sweater, shorts and vans sneakers.

"It's great to see you," my dad smiled followed with the smile of James' father.

My father opened his arms in an open embrace, a bright smile plastered on his face. Before I could count to three the wistful sound of a palm against my fathers back engulfed the air. Light laughs of contentment came soon as they began reminiscing on recent matters.

The pleasant sound of rocks crunching under his worn vans approached becoming louder and louder until the sweet cries of nature and cheerful chuckles of our fathers were drowned out.

Eventually, those earsplitting blares came to a halt, leaving the boy two feet from me awaiting the smile of comfort and the lies that would trickle to embrace him just as they did his father.

"Hi," his hand directed toward me for a handshake.

I wondered whether feeling discontent at the sudden formality he graced me with was right or hypocritical of me. It's not as though I wasn't the one detailing how I would avoid him. How I'd act as though I had never laid eyes of him before.

His eyes gazed to the ground and his hand moved to his pocket as I had let his hand linger in the air. He looked at me once more in the eyes and blinked twice, as though he was waiting for something.

"Hi" I replied finally.

"Hi" a smile dotted his face before being forced into submission by a distasteful nonchalance.

So as his eyes were lingering at those empty pebbles my eyes lingered at the sky.

"You two come on, don't you wanna take a look at the cabin."

His body shifted, his hair swayed. The duffel bag that rested on his shoulder began shifting alongside the blonde boy.

We took a look at the inside, it was fairly cute. The four seated oak table near the white picket fence of a kitchen, not to grandeur to be comfortable and welcoming.

There were two scarlet sofas, a flatscreen TV and a door that led toward the bathroom and two bedrooms. The bedrooms were as we expected, cosy oak alongside inviting cream walls. There were queen-sized beds in each room and similar 'homely' decor.

"Do you guys want to go to that one," his father said pointing to the room on the left.

Neither of us said anything, preferring to drop our bags on the bed and taking our shoes off. Due to the tinge of awkwardness that surrounded me, I rampaged through my backpack until I found my comfort foods.

Chocolate buttons and a small carton of moo-moo milkshake which I was yet to outgrow.

As I started furiously sipping out the straw I heard chuckles from behind me, so I turned. Only to see his finger lingering underneath his nose to muffle his giggles.

"What's so funny," I asked chocolate lining my lips.

"Nothing."

"Well something must be if you're laughing that much," I deadpanned as though I did have a toddlers drink in one hand, an unhealthy amount of chocolate buttons in another and then the remnants of chocolate dotted on my face and legs.

"Isn't that drink for kids, I swear I've seen you have it since we were 3."

I gave him a dirty look in which he responds with another muffled chuckle, " drinks don't have an age, especially moo-moo"

Though he had tried so hard his hysterical laughs became pungent within the room, shaking the once silent atmosphere to its core.

"I don't find it that comical," my eyes rolled to the back of their socket and back to the bright red boy.

"Okay moo-moo," and then once again tears began brimming his eyes and laugher skipping his tongue.

Out of raw pettiness and childish offence, I sat there with my arms crossed waiting for him to finish his laughing fit as the word "moo-moo" left his lips over and over was soon followed with a new fit.

Eventually, he calmed, his body submitted to fatigue and his forehand gathered layers upon layers of sweat. He looked up to me as he was once more catching his breath until something caught his eye.

My eyebrows knotted and my shoulders tensed. His hand rested on the side of my lip, wiping softly.

"You idiot, there's chocolate all over you,"

His hand lingered, his vision entangled with my own. I felt his weighted breaths his my face like slaps of impurity, and passionate impulse.

His eyes drifted to my lips and stayed there, they dared him to kiss me. The hand resting upon the side of my lip dared me to embrace him. But how could we? Though the need for affection lingered, the brute strange that of fear of the harsh consequences drove it away.

So his hand fell, a faux cough placed upon those roses of his. It was better like that, or that's what I told myself.

"Have you two settled yet, we're going to order pizza," a shout from one of our fathers.

"Yeah, what pizza are you getting," I shouted breaking the silent state in which the room once more found itself in.

"Two large meat feasts" oh how well did our father know me.

"Ok"

His eyes phones were now in his ears, blasting music or the audiobook of the book he ranted about wanting to read. I think it was called 'go tell it on the mountains'.

We sorted out our clothes into the closets and shoes to a corner on the floor, before leaving the room to the compelling smell of pizza. A moan almost left my mouth as I looked at the breaded goddess that laid before me, she had the ability to tease me and make me list for more until I couldn't bare it any longer.

She was stunning, she was one of the beautiful things I had ever seen.

"Are you done having a wet dream about pizza," he snapped me out of my thoughts causing me to give him a sharp glare of anger and annoyance.

"Firstly, I wasn't having a wet dream about pizza. Secondly, she's stunning and you're jealous."

He stared at me as though I were the joker or better yet absolutely insane, however that soon wore off being replaced chuckles and snorts.

"Yeah she beautiful, she should be in the next cover of Beef daily."

His cries of laughter ringing as our fathers say on the sofa indulging in a football game.

"I think I'm gonna piss myself," tears cascaded down his cheeks and his arm was tightly clenching his stomach.

It was obvious he didn't find it all that funny, I doubt anyone would. As it was his nature he was laughing until he felt as he was taking his last breaths to spite me, however spite was a nature we both practised well.

So as my spiteful nature would've had it I left him to it and began digging in, well as far as I could until his hand intervened as I was reached for a fourth slice.

He stared me down as though I had committed a treacherous sin, his eyes piercing my soul and soon my heart. I dared to look back as his hair swished along with his head, bouncing as though it were dancing a macabre farewell.

He told don't you dare continue without having to utter a word. Though his appearance was bordering on cute and whimsical he managed to strike a nerve with those provoking glares. A nerve in which teased you into a feeble submission, time and time again.

After our mini stared down came to an abrupt jolt his lingering hand left mine as his left reached for his slice.

Before I had a chance to ask him what the point was he had swivelled on his decrepit, plain sock and was moving back to our room.

He didn't utter another word to me that night rather preferring the solitude of our four walls and the amenity of his phone. My words rarely left my throat and his glances rarely left my thoughts.