All My Fault... (BxB)

Stolen Kisses

Hey, hopefully y'all are liking it so far, believe it or not it can get pretty hard to write, but because at least somewhere here there and yonder, because some of it is facts from my own child/teen-hood. Anyway, you guys don't care about that—he's what you were waiting for all yesterday afternoon! Oh, Wes Stanton is played my Mitch Hewer, look 'im up, he is HAWT!

{Ian}

“No.”

“Come on, Ian!”

“Dude, I said no!”

“Man, you've been hissy all damn week, what's your deal?” I turned and glared into the face of my closest friend and running back for the football team, Wes Stanton.

There were a lot of things you could use to describe my best friend, arrogant, cocky, a jerk, a player, a flirt, said the words 'dude', 'bro' and 'man' more often than three people did on a regular basis, but he was still my best friend.

He held his hand up as if in surrender. “Just an observation, Ian, but I mean, really, man your freaking out the team! We just won against Venice High and you're...moping!”

“Sheiks rule Gondoliers drool!” one of the team mates yelled as they passed looking far from, what were the words he used? 'freaked out'. I snorted and nodded my head to the cheering team.

“They're not looking so freaked out if you ask me.” I sneered, tossing my sweat soaked uniform in a random corner, keeping my eyes on the floor.

“That's because if they act different towards you they think you'll kick their ass.”

“What, you think you're so damn special that I won't hit you?”

He shrugged and gave a heartbreaking smile. “Well, for one, I'm your best friend, two I'm faster than you and three—” he slid closer to me in the showers wiggling his eyebrows, instantly making me aware of what I had previously never noticed due to some unspoken rule in the male species that while in a locker room or public shower; eyes above the belt, dude. Unfortunately, thanks to my new found intrest in guys, I glanced below Wes' belt-line...he was.....excited. “We totally have an unspoken bromance.” he rumbled, low and (hopefully) mockingly seductive.

I just chuckled nervously and made a big show of dunking my head under the hot spray to wet my hair, praying he didn't notice me blushing.

Damn that pretty faced asshole, Seth! I fervently cussed in my head—this was all his fault for kissing me! Before, just two weeks ago, everything was awesome and I wasn't bi-curious I hadn't even cared to know his real name, but now all that circulated in my head was his name that I had flirted with some chick to get.

Seth Brogan....school had nearly been unbearable this last week—all I ever saw, all I ever heard about was Seth and Noah, Noah and Seth, the fact that they were the perfect gay couple, that Seth looked adorable when he was blushing at Noah's kisses—It damn near made me blow my top when I heard the cheerleading squad join in on Noah's hot sisters bet as to when they'd fuck and who'd be on the bottom. I didn't want to—no—needed to not ever think about anyone nestling between Seth's thighs—especially me. I swear I was starting to notice more and more guys flirting with one another, whether or not they were hot—what was it my older sister had called it? A gaydar.

I had never noticed it because Seth and now Noah were the only ones' not in the closet about it, and I was willing to bet that Seth and I had played one heck of a big part in that. Seth had blossomed sexually long before most guys realize they don't like girls like that, so my merciless, and more than often than not, violent reaction to him had to have stopped the rest of them in their tracks—hands clutching the proverbial closet door. Walking down the halls, catching the secret glances they toss at one another makes me think of a colony of ants, no words are spoken and with just a simple twitch or glance tells me everything I need to know, honestly it freaks me out a little, makes me wonder if I do the same things, if they can tell that I am too.