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Bright eyes and a burning touch, Rich was always his perfect contradiction. He was the source of his worries and his soul’s only soothing balm; his North, pushing him to be the best he can be, and his South, pulling him towards a peaceful, lazy, loving haze; his best quality and his heaviest temptation.
Rich made him want to wax poetic, but robbed him of the words to do so (without warning, and without fail.)
His days usually passed in bright glances that burned through his veins and froze him to his spot, warm touches that sent chills down his spine, and the occasional flaming fantasy that made him tense in his seat. Rich made his heart expand and his chest contract, made him cry and smile, made him want and want and want for comfort and companionship that was naught but a text away.
Love was just… like that. It did that to a person; it took hold and refused to let go. Sometimes, he’d despise it, kick and scream and weep and beg for Love to leave him alone, but would always hold fast and desperate to its unwavering grip. Love was hard in how it tortured, impossible in how it gave you comfort, and support, and always just what you needed. A kiss in the dark. A hug during the darkest days. A shoulder to cry on, warmth in a cold bed, a beautiful, gorgeous mind to share and to understand.
It was in this that Jake could admit he’d loved Rich. He loved Rich to the ends of the earth, to the moon and back, through thick and thin and with his entire being. Jake loved Rich and he was scared of it; Jake loved Rich and he was absolutely drowning in the bliss of it all. He wanted everything that love could bring— the kisses, the comfort, the tears and the laughter, the understanding and the honesty.
So, what could he do? What was there to do?
“Jakey D! My man!”
Put it off? Delay everything that already felt just about ready to burst?
“What’s up, bro?”
Did Rich even want anything to happen?
“Jake?”
Did Jake care?
“Jake? Come on, are you okay?”
No. Not really.
“I need you to say something—”
And Jake was moving, shaking, grabbing Rich by the wrist, pulling him to a more private place in a windy sort of haze. Rich was stammering, and Jake wasn’t caring, eyes glassy and mind set on one thing, for once united on seeking out a single fucking sensation.
Behind the school, they stood panting, Jake’s mind somewhere else and Rich growing worried.
Finally, painstakingly, Jake raised a shaking hand to Rich’s shoulder. “I need you to tell me if I do anything too wrong.”
He didn’t wait for an answer before bending to press his lips to Rich’s, afraid of rejection but more afraid of leaving something so important behind.
And as Rich relaxed and leaned forward, as the taste of salt his Jake’s tongue, as their moment passed with two tear-laden smiles,
Jake’s entire world split in two.