Sweet Talk (BoyxBoy OneShots)

Braxton

"I gotta tell you something," she said in a hushed tone as she attempted to make our interaction a secret in the crowded classroom. Her closeness was uncomfortable, and her long, curly black-brown hair tickled against my sensitive skin.

"What?" I asked, feigning interest in whatever she had to say.

"Just wait..." she said before running off in the direction of Braxton, who we lovingly refer to as Brax, and whispering some unintelligible nonsense to him. 

Shantonique, an undeniably unique character, became one of my closest friends last year. We were attending a study hall and she was sitting alone at a table across the classroom. Since the teacher was pretty laid back, I called her over and we talked. The rest is pretty much history.

Over time, I'd discovered that she was a fluent speaker of Cape Townian Afrikaans, that she'd been diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder, and that she was interested in Aviation. She has, in confidence, admitted a lot of fucked up shit to me that I, to this day, still keep to myself. 

She turned back around and walked back towards me, her unruly hair bouncing neatly in place. As she came closer to me, her light brown eyes glimmered beautifully in the harsh, white lighting of the classroom. Her walk, strict, purposeful, and elegant, could grab the attention of any straight male within a five-mile radius.

"I can't tell you," she said, her noticeably American twang bleeding through her colored South African accent.

"Why not?" I asked, now slightly interested.

"I'll tell you later with Brax."

"What about him?"

"Djy vra te veel vrae (you ask too many questions)" she scolded silently before she walked away to take her seat. Up to this point, I had only had a rudimentary understanding of Afrikaans, but over the last year, I had grown used to her speaking Afrikaans, and I had even gotten to the point where I could understand her.

The bell rang, and the teacher, balding with silver streaks in his golden hair, walked in carrying a stack of papers. 

"We're writing a test," he exclaimed as the class let out an orchestral groan.

 ~

"Hey Noah, wait up!" I heard a voice scream from a little ways behind me. I looked back, and passed the sea of students, I saw Brax. Doing a relaxed jog towards me, he pushed a few students out of the way and waved to one or two girls on the way to me. 

"What?" I'd asked unintentionally harshly when he'd gotten to me.

"Where's Shantonique? I can't find her."

"I don't know, maybe check Mrs. Peyton's class. She probably in there eating her lunch."

He patted me on the back and muttered a 'thanks. I continued to walk across the grassy quad of the school and made my way to the canteen. Though overpriced and unimaginably unhealthy, the food sold at the school's canteen has always satisfied its students, with only one instance of poor quality food in the last year.

"Hey," I hear suddenly and turn around frightened to be greeted by a smiling Shantonique, her nose ring gleaming in the light of the sun. 

"Hi...why are you smiling. You don't smile a lot."

"Hou jou bek (shut up), I smile all the fokken (fucking) time."

"Okay...now what possessed you to scare the living crap out of me?"

"I have information for you, my friend," she said while she rubbed her hands together in stereotypical villain fashion. "Brax wants to vry (kiss) you."