It was the evening after the game. Garner Academy had won four consecutive times, next week they would be facing their rival school before advancing. Tripp, despite being content for Logan and his teammates, couldn't help but sulk in his desk chair. Their team captain decided that now would be the best time to celebrate, inviting all the players and other school members to his basement for a get-together.

Safe to say, Tripp wasn't invited. Aside from no longer being interested in the sport, he also didn't attend their school, a fact he loathed daily. So yes, he sulked, because god dammit he missed Logan.

Tripp shook his head, meeting his gaze in the mirror just next to his desk and glaring. He needed to get a hold of himself, it wasn't like Logan missed him. It had been a long debated argument with himself. Why would Logan miss him? As far as he knew, as much as he tried convincing himself otherwise, his angelic best friend saw him as nothing more than a platonic acquaintance.

Nothing more.

A sudden jolt of noise paused Tripp's train of thought, and with strained ears he could make out someone cursing under their breath outside of his room. The only person he had ever known to curse in his house was his father, and his father . . . wasn't home. In fact, he straightened, no one was supposed to be home - but him, of course.

Rising to his feet cautiously, he gripped the doorknob only opening it enough for him to peer out into the hallway. It was dark, ominous, and Tripp felt his stomach drop. He squinted, focusing on the darkness and gasping when he made-out a figure in the dark.

"Logan!" Tripp exclaimed as he recognized the bent figure in front of him. Logan jolted, standing up from his crouching position with a nervous laugh. The light from Tripp's room bounced off the blonds hair, creating a glow in the hallway.

"Hi Tripp," The other mumbled sheepishly under his breath, hand scratching the back of his neck.

"What are you doing?" Logan gave him a skeptical look, as though he wasn't breaking into someone else's house in the middle of the night. Others would throw rocks at windows and serenade their lovers- singing written songs and words, Tripp strained, reminding himself that this wasn't a love story.

"What do you mean?"

Tripp snorted, dismissing the topic entirely. "I thought you were going to the football party tonight."

"About that," Logan began, walking past Tripp and falling onto his bed. "I was bored. 'T wasn't fun."

Tripp leaned against the doorframe of his room, loving how Logan looked on his bed, wanting to see him there more. If he were an artist, he would have asked Logan if he could draw him. Countless times, he could imagine the sketches loitering the floor of his room. Would that be enough of a hint? Would drawings be able to express what he often found himself thinking? "And you came here-?"

He wasn't complaining, honest. But he was curious, and he wanted to hear the other say it. He wanted to be sure that he wasn't the only one that felt at a loss without the other. Logan looked at him from his bed, expression contemplating before answering, "I missed you. The party wasn't fun without you so I came over."

Suddenly, as if realizing what he said, Logan sat up on his arms. "I can leave if I'm bothering I jus-"

"Stay," It wasn't a command, but Logan reacted to it instantly, relaxing once more against Tripp's bed. The reaction sparked something in Tripp, and he couldn't' help but feel in awe with Logan, always uncovering something new about the other.

"Okay," Logan smiled, as if he had been granted his only wish in the world, wide and bright. "I'll stay."

If there was anything Tripp hated more than not being at a minimal distance of 5 feet from Logan, it was getting sick. It hardly happened, but when it did, it came down like a tidal wave. First, there were the common symptoms: dry throat, small bursts of overheat and a once-in-a-while cough. But not even a day later and all those symptoms doubled.

Now, he was lying in bed, a towel placed over his forehead as a disgustingly thick layer of sweat covered his body and a good chunk of his clothes and covers. His tongue was numb, feeling heavy in his mouth and for some reason he couldn't distinguish words. Which, if he were in his right state of mind, would have convinced him to agree to seeing a doctor earlier in the week.

But he wasn't, so he didn't care. Instead, he looked beyond, hating the way the color of his wall kept changing color. Becoming lighter one second, then suddenly darker. Then, he realized, it was just him blinking. And, because of that, he gave up on blinking as well. Opting to close his eyes and face the nauseous swirls behind his eyelids.

Later- he awoke to the cloth on his head being removed. Feeling a lot less exhausted than before, he reluctantly blinked his eyes open, groaning at the sudden influx of light. Something- someone moved in front of him, blocking the light and after a few slow blinks Tripp was finally able to focus in on the figure- distinguishing it as Logan. If he were still exhausted he would have confused the other for an angel, especially with the way the light radiated from behind him.

"Hngh?" Eloquent. Logan sent him a strained smile from above him, cooing as he cupped Tripp's jaw.

"Your mom told me you came down with a fever this morning, I was getting worried when you didn't show up to our spot." Another groan, Tripp opened his mouth to try and speak but nothing was coming out. Only jumbled noises. He wanted to apologize, because neither of them had ever failed to meet up after school. But his tongue was heavy and dry, and it felt like sandpaper. Logan noticed, standing up and coming back with a glass of water. Lifting Tripps head and helping take a few sips.

When he laid back down, a warm touch was pressed against his forehead. Logan frowned, and oh how Tripp just wanted to lean up and kiss the frown away. "Your temperature is still kind of high. Have you eaten anything?"

"No," Tripp croaked, almost wincing at the sound of his own voice. "Not hungry."

"You need to eat. Want me to make you something?"

A dry laugh, "N-o! You'd burn down my h'se nd leave me in it."

"I would not leave you in here!"

But you'd burn down the house anyways? Tripp thought, "Yes you would!"

"Would not!"

"Would too!"

He could tell Logan held back from punching him, only lightly tapping him on my chest. The fact that Logan even held back because he was sick sent a punch of warmth through his body. He should be sick more often if it manifested this kind of treatment. "Asshole, and here I thought you wanted to be coddled."

"Cuddles?"

That would have definitely earned him a punch, "COH-ddled."

Tripp nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly. "Wan' cuddles."

Logan sighed, looking conflicted. But not a second later he was climbing into bed next to Tripp. "Just for thirty minutes, after that I'm ordering soup and you're eating it."

And Tripp couldn't help but smile as he leaned closer to the other, bumping their shoulders together and taking in Logan's relaxing crisp scent. As he was drifting to sleep he felt the others hands tangle in his curls, combing through his scalp softly, and effectively lulling him to sleep.

It wasn't often that Tripp had nightmares. Out of the two, Logan was usually the one that had trouble sleeping. He would often wake up sweaty and panting, looking around the room with wide eyes. The reaction often stirred the feeling of uncomfortableness in Tripp, because even when knowing that Logan's home situation wasn't the best, having such vivid nightmares seemed like a stretch.

But whenever he asked Logan to recall the dreams, the scared boy would simply say that he couldn't remember. Tripp had noticed the increase in frenzy behavior when Kyle would have sleep-overs with his friends, leaving Logan alone with his father. On those days, Tripp made sure to spend as much time as possible with his best friend, distracting him with video games and food until it was too late for him to go back home.

Tripp never liked Logan's father. Even when never having formally met the man, the glint of his eyes was too telling.

He looked too guilty for someone who 'just drank'.

Either way, he didn't like how closed off Logan seemed to become when the topic of his family arose. His bubbly, out-going, and confident personality would shrink, only leaving Tripp with a quiet friend, who wanted to be left alone most of the time.

Tonight was one of those nights. With Logan having gone over to Tripp's home with a duffle bag and a lanky expression. He didn't ask, by this point he didn't need to. He simply stepped aside, following Logan into his room and returning to his homework, leaving Logan to his own thoughts.

A few hours passed until he heard soft sniffles coming from behind him. Looking back, he found Logan on his bed, having changed for bed and climbed in under the covers. Tripp frowned, making his way over to his bed and walking into Logan's line of vision.

"Hey baby," He muttered, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Can I touch you?"

There was hesitation in Logan's gaze, a couple of moments passed until he nodded, scooting forward a little. Tripp smiled, thanking him and placing his hand on Logan's shoulder, mindlessly drawing swirls on his exposed skin. There was no talking, and there was no need to, both basking in the comfortable silence.

"Tripp."

"Hm?" He looked up, meeting Logan's gaze, not stopping his movements.

"I wanna do this,"

"Do what, baby?"

"When you have nightmares," Logan strained to clarify, struggling against the covers he wrapped tightly around himself. "I want to draw on your skin."

Oh, Tripp looked down at his fingers that were still tracing mindless shapes on the others skin. Tripp hardly had nightmares, he kind of wished he had more to know what the other was going through. He kind of wished he had more so Logan didn't feel so alone. "Did you have another nightmare?"

A pregnant pause, and a small nod. "Do you remember anything about this one?"

Logan shook his head before stilling beneath him, eyebrows furrowing above the bridge of his nose in a cute pout. "Don't- Don't know. There was a boy, and he was crying a lot. Like a lot. But whenever I asked him what was wrong he would just cry harder and say that he wanted to go home."

That sounded confusing, "Where's home?"

And Logan looked at him like he knew the answer, eyes wide and tongue poking out of his lips. But in the end he just shrugged, tearing his gaze away from Tripp's, "Dun' know. Just knew I wanted to see you. You always make me feel better, Tripp."

Completely honest, as always. Tripp both hated and loved it because as far as he knew, Logan only saw him as a friend. Tripp sent him a fond smile, beckoning the other closer, wanting to wrap him up in the warmest cloth and protect him from the thoughts his brain bombarded him with. "You always make me feel better too."

You make me feel like I've found home.

Logan had painted his hair. It wasn't an unusual trend, the other usually expressed his want to change his platinum blond hair to something more color-filled. Most times it was just mindless talk, but now it was an actual danger to Tripp's ability to breathe.

He probably wouldn't have even known his friend had changed his hair if he hadn't decided to show up at his school that day. It was the middle of the week, a scorching hot Wednesday in their urban town. Often, Logan was the one that went out of his way to go to Tripp's house or area.

Tripp had been invited over to Logan's home countless times, but his home atmosphere was always unwelcoming and uncomfortable, so they agreed to simply meet up in the area before heading to Tripp's place. At this point in their friendship, it wasn't uncommon for them to have sleepovers during the week and on weekends. Neither of their parents questioned it, so it didn't come as a surprise when the duo was found together in the morning.

A small breeze made its way through the school patio, combing through the hair of the students loitering around after school. Even after not seeing Logan for a day, he had zeroed in on a look-alike.

The only difference was that their hair was black.

The complete opposite of Logan's beautiful platinum blond, but still so - so familiar. Confusion filled Tripp. After realizing that his feelings for Logan weren't as platonic as he'd like them to be, instead verging on the spectrum of romantic love, he tried looking for ways to distract those feelings.

By dating people.

To some extent he knew it would be a lost cause, but there was still a small petal of hope that he would somehow - along the way - fall in love with these people, and be able to form a healthy budding friendship with Logan. In the end, it didn't work out. Tripp had ended any relationship before it could get too far and began accepting that his feelings for his best friend simply wouldn't change.

But this - this was new.

Sure, he had felt physical attraction towards other men before. He wasn't blind. But to feel this kind of connection with a stranger was-

A squeal shook him out of his thoughts and when he looked again he saw the brunette (noirette) running towards and oh- oh, was that Logan? that is Logan.

Tripp's chest tightened as he struggled to breathe because if he thought normal, platinum haired Logan was beautiful, black haired Logan was ethereal. He made sure to catch his breath before Logan reached him and tugged his head between his arm and body, locking him into place.

"What's with that face? See a pretty girl you like?"

Tripp grinned as he was let up from the head-lock, "Saw you actually."

Logan returned the grin, "You calling me pretty? Flattery will get you nowhere Tripp."

"You called yourself pretty!" Tripp rebuttaled, pushing the other slightly. Logan pouted as if sensing a rejection from Tripp, stomping his foot childishly against the ground beneath him.

"I'm not changing it." Logan stated, running his hands through his shoulder length hair.

"Why would you?" Tripp asked, gripping Logan's hair. "It looks good on you,"

"Really?" Tripp gave an affirmative nod, enjoying the way the other's soft strands fell through his fingers like sand but not enjoying the hesitation laced in Logan's tone. Logan was usually confident, always holding his chin up when he walked through the halls.

And there wasn't a reason for him not to be confident. But there were times where Tripp found the other laced with doubt, questioning everything about his appearance from the length of his hair to the color of his socks. It wasn't common, but when it did happen, soft spoken words and compliments helped.

Logan licked his lips, looking over to the others. They were still outside of Logan's school, but there were still students loitering around, Logan's school-mates and football team chattering rather loudly. "Everyone was saying that I should change it back, that it was too dark."

"Don't." He said, catching Logan's gaze. "You look pretty."

"You just called me pretty." The other grinned, eyes squinting upwards into crescent-shapes.

"I did. You are." It almost looked as though Logan wanted to fall into his chest and bask in his embrace but he held himself upright, wobbling to keep an appropriate distance away. It wasn't poetry or words strewn together to form some sort of meaning. These were straightforward, blunt confessions, and neither of them seemed to mind.

"If you guys could stop making everyone else here feel like a third-wheel, that would be great." Kyle's monotone voice cut through the moment, startling the duo. Logan scoffed, tackling his brother in an embrace before turning his attention back to Tripp, letting him see the soft blush that decorated his cheeks.

Tripp made a mental note to continue complimenting Logan until he decided to change his hair color again and then compliment him some more after that. To compliment him always. All in order to see that bashful smile and light blush once more.

V •

Watching one-on-ones was never something Tripp expected to become a part of his friendship with Logan. When he thought about it, he thought the blond haired boy would strive away from any sort of intimacy between the two. But then small touches escalated. Greeting hugs and head pats turned into late night cuddles and hand holding.

There were also times where Tripp would catch the other staring at his lips. Those stolen glances only increased as their high school career progressed. Tripp didn't think anything of it, didn't want to think about it. Because they would be graduating soon, and then things would be different. Logan would move on, probably choosing to take a break off school for a while before re-entering and Tripp would apply to his parents University and study business management to hopefully take over their businesses.

Logan would probably move on quickly, not hesitating to immerse himself in another relationship.

He wouldn't hesitate to leave Tripp.

A hand gripped his hair, pulling his head back as Logan shifted on his lap, hips thrusting forward into his hand as the sounds behind them continued playing. Tripp was already an expert in ignoring them, instead deciding to focus on the pleasant sounds that escaped the male above him.

Logan, despite always refusing it, was vocal. Always gasping, moaning, groaning, or hissing at the slightest movement. Reactive and sensitive. Times before, Tripp would find some way to ignore Logan. It was normal for friends to talk, to discuss their sexuality, and look deeper into them. Discover what else could possibly be hiding behind the years of repressed identity.

All of that was normal, he understood. Almost everyone goes through a self-discovery phase. But was it normal to make out with your friends?

He was sure that he had crossed the line when it came to best-friends. He hadn't even proposed the idea! Them getting to this point in time could be blamed on Logan. Them getting anywhere in their relationship could be blamed on Logan, but what would Tripp do when they graduated?

What could he do?

Was there anything?

Or would he force himself to simply watch as his best friend and love of his life just walked away from him?

It was the middle of the night when Logan's phone rang. He had woken up, passed out on the floor of the bedroom with books open and scattered around as he studied for college entrance exams. First, he registered light from the lamp above him, then he registered sound. It was Tripp's ringtone, and because of that - only because of that - did he reach over, digging under the books to answer his phone.