Just Friends (BoyxBoy)

“I’m not saying he’s untalented, I’m just saying he’s no Tobey Maguire.”

I scoffed. “Dude, he’s perfect to be Spiderman. He’s charming, he’s good looking and he’s-“

“British.” He cuts in.

“What?” I retorted, sitting Indian style opposite Ethan whose darkly colored eyes always lit up with the all too familiar competitive glow whenever we were debating something that usually involved movies.

This Time it was The Amazing Spiderman.

“Yes, he’s British. I don’t remember Spiderman being from Liverpool or drinking Tea and eating crumpets.” He noted, ignorantly I might add, in the worst attempt at a British accent I’ve ever heard.

I rolled my eyes. “I’m going to ignore that. He’s an actor, Ethan. He can act as if he’s American.”

He had that confused glint in his eyes again. “So, he can just not sound British anymore?”

I ran my hand through my hair, sighing. “Yes, Ethan, he can stop sounding British.”

He folded his arms, the child in him coming out in his facial features. “I’m still not down with it. It’s called Spiderman not Spider-The Englishman”

“Then don’t see it.”

“Are you kidding, it’s freaking Spiderman!”

I moaned in aggravation. “You’re so dense sometimes.”

He got his innocent look in his eyes. “And that’s why you love me.”

“No, that’s why I stand you.” I murmured playfully.

He blinked twice before rolling his eyes. “Whatever, Spencer.” He mumbled before turning back to the television screen.

The screen went black – like it always did whenever there was a new movie coming on.

After the opening, the narrator kicked in and almost immediately Ethan groaned. “Not (500) days of Summer again!” he shrieked, flailing his arms in the air. “How many times do they have to bring on this pansy chick flick?” He huffed, continuing to be overly dramatic.

“I remember you crying during this pansy chick flick.”

“One Time!” he shot back. “Just one time. I mean the chick was a bitch. She led him on the entire time then got married? I felt the guy’s hurt. I’m surprised he didn’t clock her in the jaw.”

“Well that’s because in society it’s morally wrong for a man to hit a woman.”

He kissed his teeth, grabbing the remote and looking down at the numbers. “Well it sucks that girls get to step all over us and shit and we have to take it.”

“It’s just a part of being a dude, dude. But hey,” I paused, snatching the remote from his grip before he changed the channel, “if you don’t like it you can always get a sex change.”

He noticeably grimaced. “I want equality not a vagina.”

I lifted an eyebrow “Men being allowed to hit women is equality?”

He nodded at first before he noticed the look on my face. Then he gaped. “No! I mean – No! Just that I don’t think we should have anything that separates us is all. Like gay and straight men.”

“What about gay and straight men?” I asked, placing an elbow at the edge Ethan’s bed. We were seated on the floor at the end of the King Size mattress because he was too lazy to put a sheet on it and I wasn’t his mother.

“I mean, why can’t we live in harmony without any judgment? I don’t have anything against gays or lesbians for that matter.” He got that sexual look on his face again. “Especially lesbians.” He emphasized, wiggling his eyebrows.

I narrowed my eyes. “You sound like an uninformed, overly self righteous  teenager.”

He threw up his hands again. I chuckled at his agitation. It was always so easy and fun to mess with Ethan’s short tempered, hot headed personality.

“I just can’t win with you. Can I?” he moaned.

“You should have learned that lesson when we had the Rugrats – SpongeBob debate in fifth grade.”

Before I could get out another word he snatched the remote out of my hands. Smirking, the dark haired, All American boy shot to his feet. “And you should have learned that I always win ‘snatch the remote’ after that time we had the Harry Potter- Crazy Stupid Love debate.”