Hurricane Jones [boyxboy]

hurricane jones [21]

-

The way he was looking at me.

"So, this is what you do at these things? Hide out... in a tree house?" Maybe my newfound courage came from the knowledge that Wyatt wasn't exactly completely straight.

We were sitting thigh to thigh in the treehouse now, the vodka must've made me bold.

What him being queer meant for me, I wasn't sure... who's to say he even liked me that way? Maybe I had confidence because he hadn't stopped looking at me since we entered this cubicle.

It was only around 6 by 6, with a little wooden desk and chair and a makeshift platform bed. In the center of the room was a rug that had probably been there since the 80s. There was a lamp in the corner, lit by candle. I wondered how often he came here.

String lights, likely battery powered lined the ceiling and if it weren't for that, I wouldn't have been able to see anything. But the glow of the lamp highlighted the little peaks in his face.

The valleys under his eyes, he didn't sleep much, mountains where cheekbones rise, big lips, a rounded out Cupid's bow. Long lashes, his hair tied back falling loose and framing his face.

And we were sat across from each other on this plush rug, Wyatt's eyes hadn't left mine. The brownie was kicking in.

"Yeah, I kinda have a little social anxiety so, two years ago I found this spot." He shrugged. "I think it's been around longer than the warehouse parties to be honest."

I nodded. Really, I didn't know what to say. "I couldn't tell you were anxious."

"You keep me sane." It was a joke, it had to be. Still, I couldn't help but watch the corners of his lips quirk up. He laid back, I took the opportunity to watch his face scrunch up and he sighed.

"... Quinn's kinda all over me..." he frowned. "I think she likes me."

"You think?"

Wyatt's eyes blew wide as if his friends hadn't already made it obvious.

"Does she like me?" Boy, was he oblivious? "That would explain a lot."

"Tina was right."

"About?"

Everyone likes you.

I settled for silence. And he did as well.

We sat for a bit. And just when I didn't think I could do it, I opened my mouth. To avoid asking what I wanted to ask, I settled for a "Do you have any of those joints?"

Wyatt looked at me like I'd grown a second head.

"Joints? ... Like weed?"

"Yeah."

"... You smoke?"

"Yeah." That's a lie. "No. I think I um, I think I wanna try."

"Are you sure?"

"There's a first time for everything right?"

Wyatt smiled, his eyes were widening then, he smiled for just a moment and bit his bottom lip.

I watched.

He continued.

"Well, yeah, but my first time I, like, had a panic attack." He laughed. "But I have anxiety so... Y-you have to feel like safe and stuff."

"I feel safe."

He nodded.

A few seconds went by and he pulled a saran-wrapped brownie out of his pocket and handed it to me.