The Queerest [🗸]

art, hozier, and self portraits

hi if u saw me frantically changing my pfp for about two hours gay yesterday !! no u didn't ❤

***

Weston Doherty is loud as fuck.

He's the type of loud that draws attention for a four mile radius, the type of laugh that is so loud it causes my ears to hurt. Weston: a freckled, dimpled, semi-but-not-quite-asshole whose voice reverberates through the halls.

That's him at this very moment.

I'm making my way through the hall, and Weston plows next to me. Dark-haired with varying ancestry, Weston instantly seemed to gravitate toward me from freshman year. And while he happens to be loud as hell, he's also far more tolerable than anyone else on the lacrosse team.

"Yeah, so, I was so fucking confused right?" he continues, running a hand through his hair. My mind tries to flick back to what exactly he's talking about. Weston continues. "And I didn't know what to write because all the words were blurring together and shit and—"

"Damien!"

The voice cuts through Weston's loud talking, and the two of us whip around, the owner of the voice raising his hand with a nervous half-smile sliding onto his lips.

Soren.

Weston comes to a halt, eyebrows knitting together. 

The three of us seem to stare at each other for a few moments. My lips inevitable quirk upwards as Soren's hand waves, fingers moving and rings clinking together. Weston glances between Soren and I. Repeatedly.

"Choi wants to talk to you?" he asks, a yawn escaping his lips as he knits his eyebrows together.

My eyes don't leave Soren as a reply slips from my lips. "Yeah, yeah he does." 

"Alrighty then?" Weston says, swinging the hanging strap of his backpack back over his shoulder. "See y'all."

Then, he's down the hall, yelling something out at another player on the team, his shoulder bumping into the other teammate's, and a new conversation rising to the air.