Open [boyxboy] ✓

thirty-six:: when old wounds are reopened.

But how could he be the same old Calum and my heart didn't rush or flutter anymore? "You've made my life Hell, Calum!"

"...I realize that I went too far..." Back to never owning up to his mistakes. Normally, I'd have pushed off those mistakes and forgiven him with a quick 'no homo' bro-hug (in which I'd provide all the homo, because, let's be real), he seemed shocked that I stayed put.

"Went too far? I was in the hospital because you can't accept the fact that I'm into guys. Now, you can either leave the same way you came or I'll fucking text everyone..."

"Are you serious?"

"Dead serious." Of course I wasn't but he didn't need to know that. I'd never fuck him over the way he did to me, I'd never destroy his rep like that. I guess a part of me still loved him.

"Hey, there weren't any chips but your dad said we can run to the-" and there was that heart flutter, that head rush, that feeling I only got when Paul walked in the room. He looked great that day, I hadn't had the chance to tell him: his black t-shirt fit him nicely as opposed to his adorable oversized shirts that lost his figure and slid down to reveal his neck and almost his shoulder. But my favorite thing about him had to be that he was wearing my clothing: my sweatpants -that fit me perfectly- were hanging off his slender hips and I could see slight definition on the v heading into his boxers.

I'd never really been self-conscious about my weight but Paul had a way of looking perfect at all times and it really wasn't fucking fair. My boyfriend was smiling straight at me when he'd walked in, keys swinging on his index finger, that was until he noticed the third male in my room and his smile turned more confused but never less friendly,  "oh, um, hi?"

Calum, however, kept himself closed off, not even sparing Paul a glance that wasn't buried in a glare. His voice was kind of angry and that made me angry. What was with people thinking that they could treat Paul like shit? "Who's this?"

I hadn't gotten a chance to respond, showing my anger, because Paul -level-headed as can be- had cut in. "I'm Paul," He looked as if he wanted to offer his hand in a shake but had thought better of it. "Who are you?"

"This is Calum." It was the first time I'd spoken since they were both in the same room and the tension was thicker than Brandon's dick, you know by Rilee's calculations.

Somewhere along the line of me somewhat introducing them and my boyfriend realizing who exactly he was (took about five minutes), his face had morphed into one of pure anger and his eyes had cut over to Calum who was looking at him as if he didn't know why he was so significant to Paul and so up on his hate list. Excuse me, strongly dislike list, Paul didn't hate anyone.

"This is... The guy that?" After my nod of approval, my boyfriend had all the information he needed to step in front of my bed as if he shielding me from the past hurt. I was still sitting helplessly on my bed but he hadn't commented on that. My lack of balls was really starting to frustrate me, "Get out."

"You can't tell me what to do." Despite not knowing what was going on, Calum got confrontational... that was how he was.

And in the lowest voice I'd ever heard Paul speak, he crossed his arms, veins popping out as he clenched his jaw tightly. If I wasn't so worried, I'd be thinking about how fucking hot he was when he was pissed. "Alright, listen, I have little patience for you as it is but I'll be generous and give you two options: get the fuck out of this house willingly or be dragged out by the paramedics."