idyll ✓

day twenty-five (mlm) (break up?)

06/25/21: write an entry where a character has to decide whether to break up with their partner or come out to their family, because they're closeted and don't know how the family will react

yes these are the characters from day sixteen aka the soccer meet-cute

WARNING! ABOMINABLE WRITING AHEAD! PROCEED WITH CAUTION!

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Sloan had been sitting at his desk, swearing furiously as he attempted to finish his (very crappy) English essay when Beau texted. Meet me at the bleachers. It was something they routinely did, sneaking out to Sloan's high school's bleachers at night and sitting, talking, sometimes things far more daring with their lips and eyes and hands.

The night was dark and the stars were out by the time Sloan made it there. His hands were shoved into the pockets of his zipped-up fleece, and his eyes were fixed skyward. Beau was waiting, sitting and leaning against a rail on a random row close to the top. Sloan joined him with a slight nod.

There was a nervous apprehension on Beau's face, and he licked his lips, looking down at his hands as Sloan settled down next to him. "Hi," Beau said. He smirked a little (it was forced, Sloan could tell). "Where's my kiss?"

Sloan elbowed him, hands still in his pockets. "Shut up. You know you have to work for that. My kisses don't come free."

"That's not what the cheer team says," Beau replied.

Sloan snorted. "Freshman year I charged less - I hadn't yet realized their worth." Beau's lips curved in a genuine smile, and he rested his head on Sloan's shoulder. "Why'd you wanna meet up?"

"Do I need a reason?" Beau asked.

"Yes, and I'd prefer it to be in the form of a compliment," Sloan replied. "Like, 'I longed to see your beautiful eyes.' Or, 'I missed your hot ass.'"

Beau rolled his own hazel eyes. "You think too highly of yourself."

"And whose fault is that?" Sloan teased. "You indulge me too much."

"Don't blame me for your ego," Beau replied, poking him. "It existed far before I flirted you out of winning that game." Sloan huffed. "You're still salty about that, huh?"

"I have every right to be," Sloan said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Beau slipped an arm around his waist to placate him. "Sloan?" he asked, voice quiet, after a moment of silence.

"Yeah?"

"What are we?"

That, Sloan supposed, was a very good question. He wasn't really sure, honestly. They hadn't put a label on the more-than-camaraderie that had existed between them for, well, quite some time now. In his weaker moments, Sloan had even ached to ask - and put an end to the silent pact of suffering they seemed to have agreed upon at some point - Beau to be his boyfriend. But he hadn't, because maybe he was a little cowardly, and maybe Sloan didn't quite want this too-pretty boy worming his way into Sloan's life for good. "I don't know," Sloan answered at last. "We have a good thing, though."

Beau removed his head from Sloan's shoulder and his arm from Sloan's waist and cleared his throat, shifting away a little. Sloan raised his eyebrows. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Oh," Sloan said plainly. He felt a little light-headed, as though he had stood up a pinch too fast.

Beau kept his eyes fixed on the opposite bleachers. Words spilled from his mouth at a frightening rate. "I think we should stop. Stop this," he clarified at Sloan's blank look. "Us. All of it." There was a guilty twist to his mouth. "It's been fun, it's been great, but I can't--" Beau paused briefly, as though gathering the will to continue, "I can't do it anymore." He fiddled with a loose string on his jeans. "I mean, somewhere along the way this devolved into more than joking and fun and lighthearted romance... More than this is just too much." He turned his hazel eyes on Sloan, who was staring at him, a little dumbstruck and a little confused. "I mean, boyfriends, meeting the parents, sappy Valentine's Day shit, the whole nine yards." Beau's face scrunched up. "I can't promise that to you, so I think we should," he made a decisive slicing motion with his hand, "cut it off now."

"I was never under the impression that you wanted that with me," Sloan said flatly. There was a faint ache in his chest. How dare Beau wrangle him into this love and then end it all by his own choice?

"I want it, you know, but I just can't," Beau said.

Sloan frowned. "Well I don't want it, so can't we just... stay this way?"

Beau bit his lip, shook his head, then dropped his face into his hands. "I can't, I can't," he murmured.

Sloan studied him for a moment. "Why not?"

"Because it's terrifying, Sloan," Beau groaned. "Every minute of every day, worrying that somebody is gonna find out and tell my parents and my life will be ruined."

"Why would it be ruined?" Sloan asked. He knew very little about Beau's family.

"I don't know," Beau said. He began to pace, fingers tearing through his golden hair. "I've just been thinking about it all the time lately. It's driving me crazy. What if they hate me?"

Sloan eyed him warily. "They won't hate you, I'm sure," he said, though he wasn't sure at all.

"You don't know that," Beau replied, sighing.

"We can end it if you want," Sloan said after a pause during which he decided to break his own heart. That didn't make it hurt any less. "If that's best for you."

Beau scowled. "Where's your fighting spirit? This is the part where you're supposed to ride in on a horse and save me, not let me go."

Sloan shrugged. "I'm not particularly good at riding horses." He was good, however, at breaking his own heart before it got shattered by other people instead. At least he had control over the pain, then. He stood up, patted Beau once on the shoulder. "See you, then." The ache turned to a stinging pain as he turned.

"Not even a goodbye kiss?" Beau asked. Sloan turned, eyes on Beau's lopsided smile.

"Goodbye kisses are for people who have a good thing," Sloan said. He didn't intend the words to come out as cold as they did. He was the one walking away, after all. Beau flinched, though.

"See you around, then," Beau echoed hollowly.

Sloan nodded once, then jogged down the bleachers and sprinted all the way home. He was crying when he got to his phone and called Lucas, his leg tapping impatiently and one hand pressed to his mouth.

"What happened, dude?" Lucas asked, sounding tired. He was probably just going to bed. A sob echoed down the line. "Shit. Broke your own heart again, huh?" Lucas asked. Sloan could tell by the jumping noises that he was putting on pants. "For your own good again?" He could hear the eye roll and the scoff in Lucas's voice. "Meet me at McDonald's." Lucas cussed a few times. "I'm bringing Elijah," he grumbled. "Can't deal with this Beau shit without a licensed therapist, and Eli is the closest we've got." The line went dead, and Sloan went to McDonald's.

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crappy endings ftw 😎

um also i am not a fan of this scene

it's not angsty enough

oh well it's fine