Jack P.O.V.
If you told me last month that today I'd be questioning my sexuality and wondering if I was developing feelings for a new friend, I would've laughed in your face and told you were being ridiculous and there was no way in hell that was possible. But now it was Friday and I was staring down at my last entry in journal that I had been too scared to look at again since I wrote it on Monday, waiting for Dean to come round.
Could I really be falling in love?
But not just that, could I really be falling in love with a boy?
All week, I had answered these questions with a stern 'no' and tried steering my attention to the girl who sat at the front in my English class, but they would always come back, pushing themselves back to the front of my head, like they were marked with 'high importance' and they wouldn't leave until I answered them correctly. But I didn't know. I didn't know what falling in love was like, I had barely 14 years of experience behind me, and I thought all the love business was supposed to be your worries when you were older. But thinking something and knowing something were two different things, right? So technically if I thought I was falling in love, it didn't mean I was certain, and it could be something completely different, right?
Something told me I was just doing whatever I could to avoid the truth, and a tiny part of me agreed with that, but I wondered if my confusion just wanted an answer. But not just any answer, the right answer. I sighed and gave up, starting to get ready for Dean coming over. I quickly changed out of my uniform and put on some more comfy clothes before starting to tidy my room, but more importantly, stuffed my journal behind the chest of drawers next to my bed so that there was no chance of Dean finding it.
Not before long, I heard the doorbell ring which was the sound I had been dying to hear, and I waited a few moments before answering the door so I didn't seem too eager. Dean looked pale like he was ill and I wondered if he was feeling like he did on Wednesday.
"You look terrible," I told him and he glared.
"Thanks Jack, I'm positively flattered."
"Anytime. Come in then," I stepped aside and he walked past me and stood by the stairs, waiting for confirmation to go up. "Not yet, we need to get some stuff like last time," I took his hand and pulled him into the kitchen. I let him go as I opened the fridge, handing him bottles of two litre fizzy drinks and then grabbing glasses.
"You think I'm going to be drinking from a glass, Jack?"
"You're going to drink from the bottles?"
"We're not all as posh as you are."
"Are you sure you can even hold a two litre bottle, Dean?" The look of his face told me that if he wasn't holding the bottles he would've hit me and I ran past him, going to the stairs.
"You're a dead man walking, Jack Howard!" He chased me upstairs, the weight he was carrying making him a bit slower.
"Aww, you wouldn't really kill me, Deanykins!" I met him by the doorframe of my room, taking the bottles from him and seeing the blush that was creeping up on his face.
"Are you sure about that?"
"Positive," I put the bottles on the floor by the sofa and looked back at Dean. "You can put your bag on the bed... or the floor... or the sofa... I don't really care."
"O-kay," he dropped it on the bed and looked around the room, scratching the back of his neck.
"Dean?"
"What?"
"Are you alright?"
"Why wouldn't I be? And don't I owe you a Mario Kart rematch?"
"Maybe later. TV?"
"Sure, whatever," he shrugged and sat down on the sofa, crossing his arms as he stared at the blank screen. I placed myself next to him and flicked through some channels, finding it hard to settle on something because I wasn't sure what Dean liked.
"Do you want to watch anything?" I asked without looking at him.
"Is Adventure Time on?"
"What's that?"
"You've never seen Adventure Time?!"
"Nope."
"Go onto Cartoon Network."
"It's a kid’s show?"
"It's my favourite show of all time, you'll like it."
"You don't know me well enough to know what I like."
"I know you well enough. Now move up."
"You want me to move up? Am I supposed to take offense to this?"
"Just shuffle up to the end, and no, you're not," I moved and watched Dean as he turned and lay on his side, putting his head on my lap and stretching out the rest of him along the sofa. He sighed contently as Adventure Time came on screen, but I could tell something still wasn't right but decided to avoid the subject. I started playing with his hair, cautiously at first in case he snapped at me but I assumed he enjoyed it when he didn't comment and instead relaxed a little more.
For the next half an hour, I got little explosions in my stomach every time Dean laughed. I liked the sound - it meant that even if it was for a few seconds - he was happy, despite what was twirling around in his head.
"Jaaaaaack, I want to play Marioooooo."
"You'll have to get off me then."
"But I'm comfortable here."
"Then you'll have to make a choice - it's me, or Mario."
"I pick you," he sighed. "Lie down with me Jack."
"Why?"
"Because you're comfy and warm and I'm cold."
"You'll need to move for a second then."
"If I'm moving, can I put Mario on?"
"Yeah, but you're playing and I'm watching."
"Suits me!" I sluggishly kicked my feet up and lay down, grabbing two cushions to put under our heads. Dean effortlessly set up the game like it was his 6th sense and then lay in front of me, his back against my chest and the top of his head just under my chin. I put an arm around him and pulled him towards me so he closed the few centimetres between us, wanting him as close to me as possible.
"You play this game too much," I commented as he won his 7th race in a row, making it look easy.
"It's not that, I'm just talented."
"Well I hope you find a job that pays you for winning Mario Kart races."
"We'll see. Can you play with me now?"
"Not like this I can't," I was hoping he would just accept my decline because I was perfectly fine with how we were but he sat up and handed me a controller.
"You're playing with me whether you like it or not."
"This is my house!"
"Whatever, didn't you say you say you'd been playing a lot more? Prove it to me."
"You're quite adamant, aren't you?" I sat up and Dean moved so he sat in between my legs and he leant against me, causing me to put my arms around his waist. I liked how natural it all felt, like Dean was supposed to be there. The cliché 'made for each other' flashed in my mind, but I brushed it off. What were the chances of me finding my soul mate at the age of 13?
"Jack," Dean snapped his fingers in front of my face and I flinched. "You were daydreaming."
"Sorry."
"You need to pick your character," he said, snuggling into me a little.
"You've picked my favourite," I moaned, selecting a character I hadn't really used that much.
"If you think that was going to make me give him up for you, nice try - we've had a long lasting relationship; I'm not leaving him anytime soon."
"That's weird Dean."
"At least I'm loyal!"
* * *
"Dean, please..."
"Just one more..."
"Dean, my stomach has started talking; it's time for me to eat."
"Just more race!" He looked at me with those brown eyes that were warm enough to make you melt, and unfortunately, enough to win me over.
"Okay, just one more, then we're getting pizza, I'm fading away into nothing here!"
"You're so dramatic, I'm sure you'll live for another few minutes."
"We'll see, won't we? I'm holding you responsible if I die," I said, smirking as I heard Dean sigh. One thing I had learned about Dean when he was in my arms was that he stuck his tongue out when he was concentrating. I teased him about because it was funny hearing him whine about how he couldn't help it and then watch him stick it out again when he was done complaining.
"... I let you win that one," Dean stated as I finished first place, throwing my arms up in triumph.
"Yeah yeah, can we go eat now?"
"Just one-"
"No, get up Dean!" He groaned before standing up and stretching and I followed his lead then went downstairs to the kitchen, double-taking when I saw my parents in the living room. "You didn't tell me you were back," I told them, mentally checking I kept the door shut while we were upstairs, knowing they would ban Dean from the house if they saw how we were positioned just a few moments ago.
"We decided to leave you to it because we could hear you had a friend up there. Who's that?" My mother asked, her head nodding towards Dean who had retreated back into his shy and awkward self, twirling a bit of hair around his finger.
"This is Dean, Dean these are my parents," I pushed him forward a little so they could see him properly. After an awkward small conversation they let us go and we went into the kitchen. Dean sat at the counter, watching me turn on the oven.
"Feed me," he moaned, as I got two pizzas out the freezer.
"Oh, you're hungry now?"
"I was hungry before," he shrugged and I raised my eyebrow without question, closing the oven door when the pizzas were in. I stayed away from Dean, opening random cupboards for no real reason, knowing that if I was near him I wouldn't be able to resist holding his hand or anything of sort, but I couldn't risk it if my parents were just in the next room.
When the pizzas were ready I put them on plates and giving one to Dean we went back upstairs into the privacy of my room. After double checking I had shut the door, we went back into how we were before except now our plates were balancing on our knees and instead of playing Mario Kart I turned the TV on.
"You make me happy," Dean mumbled.
"What?"
"Sorry... I shouldn't have said that..."
"No, what did you say?"
"You... you make me happy," he said a little louder than before.
"Good. You make me happy too. Dean?"
"Yeah?"
"You know you can tell me anything?"
"I can?"
"Yeah."
"Okay," I was hoping what I said would trigger something in him to tell me everything he'd been hiding, but it did the opposite and instead he fell silent after putting his plate that was littered with crusts on the floor.
With our fingers interlaced, Dean's head resting on my shoulder and my arm around his waist, hours rushed past us effortlessly as they were filled with easy conversation. But instead of getting bored like I would've with anyone else, I couldn't get enough with Dean. I couldn't get enough of his voice and illogical explanations. I couldn't get enough of his touch and how he felt cuddled into me. I wanted to feel every inch of his of skin against mine; not in the sexual sense, but in the most intimate and affectionate way that maybe was meant for people who were more than just friends.
Maybe I should've paid more attention to what was on the TV that was playing in the background because Dean seemed to stop dead when a surgery scene came on screen.
"Dean?" I tried getting his attention but he stayed transfixed, blissfully unaware of the tears that were beginning to stream down his face. I switched the TV off and Dean snapped out of his trance, using a hand to wipe his cheeks then looked up at me with a small smile. "What's the matter? Was it the surgery?" His expression darkened again and he broke the eye contact, looking down and pulling the sleeves of his jumper over his hands.
"I... My sister..." His shoulders began to shake as he started sobbing, hiding his face in his hands and leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees before he suddenly got up, rubbing his eyes and then turning around to look at me, wrapping his arms around himself and looking terrified. "I'm sorry, I..."
"Dean..." I got up and secured the smaller boy in a hug, but I could tell he was still holding in how he was feeling. "You don't need to be strong anymore, I'm here for you," that broke the barrier between keeping it inside and letting his emotions out, and he began to cry into my shirt again, but this time he put his arms around me desperately, not wanting to let go.
"My sister... she's ill... it could be a tumour and she needs an MRI scan and she might need surgery... she can't die... I don't know what I'd do without her... she's only six..." he took a deep breath before continuing. "It's just... I'm the adult of the family... my mum can't cope... and I have Daniel depending on me and my sister relies on me all the time and it's just too much," he sobbed.
"I'm sorry Dean, I don't know what to say," I felt so useless knowing I couldn't protect him or help his sister, so I could only hope that being there for him was enough.
"It's not your fault... I... I just can't do it, not on my own... not this time, I can't..."
"You're not on your own, you have me this time," he pulled away a little and looked up and smiled at me, looking adorable and making butterflies fly around in my stomach and my heart skip a beat. But for the first time, I could see how the stress had impacted on him and I internally cursed myself for not noticing it before. He looked paler, dark circles were more prominent under his eyes and he was thinner.
"Thank you," he breathed and hugged me tightly. "I'm tired."
"Let’s go to bed."
"Where am I sleeping?"
"With me? I'll look after you tonight."
"Okay," we got into bed and kicked off our jeans, laying on our sides and facing each other. Dean was exhausted; he could barely keep his eyes open. He moved closer to me and buried his face in my chest, his arm loosely around me as he entangled our legs.
"Goodnight Dean," I kissed the top of his head and my arm took its place on his waist like it fitted perfectly.
"Night Jack," it didn't even take five minutes before his breaths deepened and he fell into unconscious. I glanced down, unable to stop myself from smiling at the sleeping boy in arms.