my boy, my girl, whatever
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“You’re gay, and—and I’m… God, hell if I know.” Kenny tugged at a loose string on his pillow. “Not a boy. Not all the time, anyway. Sometimes I think—I think I’m a girl.” He snorted, pulling harder and harder until the string snapped, fell away. “A fucking girl.”
“Then you’re my girl,” Craig whispered. He pressed his head against Kenny’s, met two wet eyes with his very own. “My boy, my girl. Whatever. As long as you’re always mine.”
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- Part 1 of my boy, my girl, whatever