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"Eaaasy does it, 'Jeet. C'mon, I beat this level in what, two minutes?"
Buford motioned to the outdated console in front of him, watching the character on the screen jump over 8-bit obstacles.
"This game's been out for decades, surely a nerd like you has read a strategy guide or somethin'..."
Baljeet rolled his eyes with a playful scoff as Buford continued to tease. His character died for what had to be the seventh time (but really, who was keeping count?), and he nudged Buford with his shoulder in mock annoyance. Buford leaned back onto his palms, and blew a raspberry in Baljeet's direction.
"Ya' died seven times already!"
Baljeet jerked his shoulder to the right, leaning all his upper body weight into it, attempting to catch Buford off guard from his teasing.
In any other circumstance, Buford wouldn't even budge a muscle. But from the awkward angle he'd propped himself up at, the slightest amount of pressure combined with Baljeet's weight made him quickly drop to his elbows. Which sent Baljeet down with him.
A nervous chuckle escaped from Buford's lips, and he expected to hear the same from Baljeet.
Only Baljeet was unmoving, controller forgotten beside him as his eyes were wide, scanning Buford's body from head to toe, stopping at his flushed cheeks and licking his lips.
Buford immediately noticed and swallowed another nervous laugh. He wasn't blind to the way Baljeet looked at him. How Baljeet got in a huff whenever Buford mentioned a cute guy he'd run into. How he'd lean into Buford whenever the group got together for a study session. The way he'd let his fingers linger just a bit too long whenever reaching for a drink at the movies. Buford wasn't blind, and the empty advances drove him crazy.
"Hey..." Buford trailed off into nowhere, hoping to drag Baljeet back to reality.
Baljeet's head swarmed with infinite possibilities at the situation he'd gotten himself into. On one hand, he knew it was wrong. Completely, and utterly wrong. He couldn't fall in love with his best friend. He couldn't fall in love with his male best friend.
...But being so wrong, this felt so, so right. He felt safe, he felt comfortable, he felt loved--
Baljeet couldn't stop staring at Buford's lips.
It was wrong to want to kiss your best friend's lips. It was wrong, he had no intention of ever acting on the feelings he had tried so hard to push to the back of his mind. He'd spend hours trying to get the image of Buford's smile from his thoughts, trying to forget about how happy he felt when he laughed. It was wrong, but he couldn't help bringing his fingers to Buford's lips. If he could never touch them with his own lips, he'd remember the feeling forever with his fingertips.
The pair were silent, as the sound of a forgotten game played in the background, silent through soft touches and hitched breaths. They both wanted something to happen. Both too scared to move, whether by ideals of the self, or family, or unfortunate circumstance stopped them, this was the closest to anything they'd ever come to.
It was a mistake, only because they both realized how much more they wanted.
They were broken from their trance as a heavy pair of footsteps came down the hall, Baljeet's eyes meeting Buford's in terror as he hastily pushed away from the bulky man.
"Everything okay boys? I heard a thump," Baljeet's mother asked, peeking her head inside the small bedroom.
Baljeet let out a small laugh and motioned to the tv, where his character had died far too long ago. "Of course! I am...just frustrated I cannot beat this level...it seemed so simple when Buford showed it to me..."
Buford tried not to look disappointed, he really did. But pent up feelings for someone so dear to you only went unnoticed for so long.
(And it hurt worse than anything when Baljeet snapped back into his usual facade.)
Buford looked toward Mrs. Tjinder, and propped himself back up to the leaning position he'd started at with a grumble.
"Yeah, y'know. Just a couple of dudes bein' dudes."