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The sky was bright, the sun high in the sky, as Bill followed Stanley through the forest. They hadn’t been walking for long, ten, maybe fifteen minutes. The summer breeze blew Bill’s hair into his eyes abruptly and he sputtered, swiping it away. Stan turned to look back at him, smiling softly, a hint of sadness that Bill didn’t know the meaning of etched across his features.
“Hey Bill?”
Bill perked up immediately at the sound of his name falling from the other boys lips. He hummed questioningly, tearing his eyes from the squirrel he was watching to the boy in front of him.
“I just remembered I forgot to ask but um- why did you want to come with me, again?”
Ouch. Was Stan actually not okay with him tagging along?
“Not that I don’t want you here!” Stan corrected immediately, a light blush coloring his cheeks. “Just um- I mean no one’s ever asked to come before. I was just curious.”
Bill smiled warmly at him, momentarily distracted by the embarrassed face Stan was currently wearing. Cute.
“O-oh… um, I j-just wanted t-to hang out. Th-that’s all.”
Stan simply nodded and continued walking, seemly not picking up on the fact that he and Bill hang out every day without fail. Truthfully, Bill didn’t know why he had asked Stan if he could tag along. Well, that’s not true. He knew why. He could say he just wanted to hang with his friend or learn about a new hobby but it wouldn’t be true. Bill would follow Stan anywhere if it meant he got to be around him. So when Stan mentioned how he planned to go birdwatching, Bill jumped at the chance to go too.
He couldn’t have said that to Stan though. He isn’t like Bill, not in that way. He probably wouldn’t appreciate the feelings Bill harbors for him. But they’re hard to lose, so he shoves them down instead and plays the act of the best friend.
So, the leaves beneath his feet continued to crunch and the birds overhead continued to sing as Bill followed Stan down the path, just like he always has.
Another five or so minutes later, they arrived at a small clearing. It was nothing more than some grass, leaves, and a few trees, but it was pretty.
Stan took a seat against a tree, shucking off his backpack and pulling out a book and some binoculars. Bill followed his actions, sitting next to him and pulling out his sketchbook to sit down next to him in case he got bored.
The next few minutes passed in relative quiet, save for the sounds of their breathing and a nearby creek flowing through the trees. Stan broke the silence first.
“Sorry. This probably isn’t as exciting as you were expecting.”
Bill chucked softly, turning to face him before responding.
“Th-that’s okay. We d-don’t have to do an—anything. I jus-just like spending t-time with you.”
It was a risky statement. One that combined with his recent actions over the past few months could easily result in Bill being found out. But it was worth it to see Stan’s cheeks turn as red as the cardinal on his book before he turned back to his binoculars.
Suddenly Stan puffed out a small gasp, leaning forward slightly as if to see something better.
“Wh-what is it?” Bill asked, immediately enamored by Stan’s excitement.
“It’s a goldfinch.” Stan replied, unhooking the binoculars from around his neck. “They’re one of my favorites. Here, look.”
He held the binoculars in front of Bill’s face, waiting for him to grab them. Bill tentatively leaned forward, peering through the eyepiece. He didn’t see any bird, just a lot of trees.
“Wh-where?”
“Here, just let me-“ Stan mumbled, gently grabbing Bill’s chin and directing him to face the bird.
Sparks raced down Bill’s shoulders and arms at the touch, his cheeks immediately heating. Suddenly, he was really thankful for the binoculars which covered half of his face.
“Right.. there. See it?”
Bill swallowed dryly and weakly nodded, clearing his throat.
“Yeah,” he responded, gently pushing the binoculars back to Stan.
Stan eagerly put them back to his face, looking back up at the bird.
“It’s so pretty, right?”
Bill wasn’t even paying attention to the bird anymore, his gaze being directed at Stan since he gave back the binoculars. His curls shined in the summer sun, making them look all soft and glossy. Bill wanted to run his hands through them, to hug this boy close and tell him how much he loved him. He wanted to compliment his dark brown eyes and his adorable dimples and everything about the boy he was so, so gone on. But he couldn’t. So he continued to stare like he always does.
“Y-yeah. Pretty.”