Fifty Shades of Yeehaw

The Calm before the storm ⛈

His ✨emerald orbs✨ glowered in envy as he stared into the fireplace, distracting himself from a the beautiful soul that stood in the same room, just a few steps away.

Well, attempted to distract himself. Who was he kidding? The man near him never failed to steal his eyes away from their timed writings in Mahady's english classes, or more-interesting-than-the-lecture-grey-walls during their shared history classes in the "village". He snuck several longing stares during the last few years spent with him-- something he grew to hate when his favorite hobby led him to see a very much curvaceous and pale girl flirt with him.

Anna. His fingernails dug into his sleeves. God, how he despised her. He knew it was a meme to like big tiddy goth gfs but he didn't know Tyler would actually like having one! Keaton gave a quick glance at his chest; no big tiddies. He wasn't pale as snow either. He was sunburnt. His hair was as blonde and Aryan as Hitler had wet dreams of-- much unlike the void of darkness Anna's head carried. He could never devote himself to spend hours listening to Marilyn Manson or Papa Roach 🪳. He liked good music for fuck's sake!

Of course he could never compare. Of course he'll be stuck at home while Tyler went frolicking with Anna to prom, while they dance and ki-

Keaton audibly gagged at the thought.

"Hum?" Tyler idly mumbled, struggling with this... goddamned tie his mom bought for him. "You uh... said something?" he asked, wondering what was up with his bestie.

"N-no, I didn't say anything. I... I had too much dairy today! Yeah. Lactose intolerance got me again!" Keaton quickly shot out an excuse. He'd forgotten he wasn't lactose intolerant; and that Tyler had seen him devour many a cups of Cold Stones' ice cream before. Always in Gotta Have It sizes.

"Mmhmm..." the other replied, sending a suspicious glance Keaton's way. Odd, he wondered.

The blonde narrowed his eyes in order to look very-totally-not-sus-ly focused on the flames' progress through the firewood. Anything excuse to not look at Tyler's handsome outfit for his date. Anything to distract him from losing him to Anna.

He groaned at the thought of that... that hoe. He couldn't stand sitting near Tyler anymore.

"I-I'm gonna grab some more wood for the fireplace!" he hollered as he hopped up to put some distance between him and his beloved- no, his platonically loved friend. He brushed off any and every thought of another kind of "wood" as he passed his friend (yes, just friend. Broski, if you will), unaware of another pair of green orbs following him with skepticism.

He stared down at the pile of firewood they'd bought that morning. He refused to acknowledge how they matched his friend's walnut hair, or how their stocky shape reminded him of his broad shoulders, or how it... nearly smelled like him? Did he get a new Old Spice spray for her? Pain stabbed at his heart. Tyler really was in love with her. Not him. Never. Ever. Him. 💔

He strained to keep his eyes from watering. C'mon Keaton, just be happy for him. He deserves his big tiddy goth gf. He doesn't deserve you, his conscience reminded him. He nodded in agreement to himself and reached down for a plank of firewood.

He didn't get to touch the wood. Another hand had stopped him.

Anxiety fired up within him, as he slowly turned his gaze upwards-- only to meet a pair of painfully beautiful eyes staring right back at him. Tyler's. Except they didn't have the comforting warmth they usually carried; a fiery anger was burning behind them.

"You and I both know you're not lactose intolerant."

Oh shit.

To be continued. 🥛