I don't give a damn about my reputation

Come here, Brucey

Vance POV

He's messing with me

The cab pulls over beside the sidewalk, outside my house. I lean forward and hand the driver his money.
"Enjoy your evening fellas," he nods at me, as I open the car door. I drag Bruce out of the car, a firm grip on his waist. I nod back at the driver as he drives away.

I have no idea how I'm suppose to get Bruce into my house, I don't even know if my dad is in.

Keeping a firm hold on Bruce, I stumbled towards the door. I fish for the keys in my pocket and put them in the lock. The door is still locked. That means my dad isn't home. Thank fuck.

I open the door and pull Bruce inside. I lock the door before carrying him down the hallway and up the stairs to my room. I open my door, trying not to let Bruce fall over. He has fully passed out. There is no waking him. He needs to put some pyjamas on, he can't sleep in his fucking clothes.

I walk him over to my bed and place lay him carefully on the mattress. He needs to get changed. I could lend him a hoodie? I walk over to my wardrobe and pull out my navy blue hoodie, with a large H stitched into the front in gold, a black outline around it. This'll fucking do.

I walk back over to Bruce. I mean, I'm sure he'd be okay with me putting the hoodie on him? Im not gonna do anything. Gay. Or weird. Just putting the hoodie on him, so he can sleep and not wake me up.

I carefully pull his shirt, and my jacket, over his head and hang it on the bed frame.

Fuck

He's ripped?!

I stare in shock for a second or so. Fuck me man, earth to Vance? He's gonna get cold?

I pull the hoodie over this head and carefully pull his arms through the sleeves. I sit him up in an attempt to remove his trousers. No, it's not weird, he can't sleep in fucking jeans. That shit hurts in the morning. I pull his trousers off and place them on top of his shirt. There, done. He can sleep in my bed. I'll take the couch.

I walk over to my wardrobe and open the door. I remove my jacket and change my jeans for joggers. Can't sleep in jeans, remember?

I grab a pillow from the bed and peer over at Bruce. He looks so. Peaceful. Like he has no care in the world.

He looks

Beautiful

I walk back over to the couch and get comfy. I manage to get comfortable pretty quickly. I feel. Safer, than usual. I guess it's a better to have someone you know in the same room as you.

Bruce POV

"You're gay? You fucking freak!"

Im stood in the school halls. Surrounded by kids, big and small. Vance, stood infront of me. A look of pure hatred and disgust on his face.

"What?"

"You're a fucking queer. You're a freak!"

He yelled at me. Why is he saying those things?

"Vance, why are you saying that?" I whimper

"Don't fucking say my name you fucking fairy! I don't wanna be anywhere near you. I'd probably catch a disease!" He spits at me

Why

Why would he say that?

"It's. It's not true. You don't mean that" I feel a tear stream down my cheek. I begin to taste that bitter, salty taste. He storms towards me, his fists clenched.
I don't move as he hits me, knocking me to the floor. I just sit there. He hits me again. And again. And again. And again. Punch after punch, and I don't even flinch.

When he finished he spat on me. Disgusting

"I can't believe you actually though we were friends Yamada! How stupid can you be? Your dad has every right to make your life a fucking misery. You. Deserve. All of it," and with that he walks away, leaving me bloodied and bruised.

I suddenly shoot up in a panic, tears streaming down my face as I begin to look around.

This isn't my room

I look over to see a sleeping Vance, not 5 feet away from me. Sound asleep, on his couch.

It was just a nightmare

God

I sit there for a while. Thinking. Thinking about what that. Nightmare, meant. Vance wouldn't, I mean, I don't think, he would ever hit me? I mean. Im not, actually gay. That's why he hit me. But I'm not gay, so it won't happen. Right?

I think about my nightmare for what feels like hours. It's not getting me anywhere. I look over to Vance and start to think. Next thing I know, I'm stood right next to him, my hands inside the sleeves of this hoodie. Presumably Vance's. I stand there for a second before whispering
"Vance, I. I had a nightmare,"

I watch him as he sleepily opens his eyes, staring into mine. He looks. Sympathetic

"What do you mean? Are you crying? Over a fucking nightmare? How bad was it?" He asks, adjusting his body to face me

" I don't wanna talk about it," I mumble. Why would I tell him I had a nightmare about him hating me because for some reason, dream me is gay.

"Come here, Brucey," he says softly

He reaches his hand over to mine and pulls me on top of him, that familiar smell flooding my nostrils.

"You can sleep here. Now shut up and let me sleep,"

He puts one arm behind his head as he gets comfortable. I place my head in his chest, acting as though it was a pillow. I could hear his heart beat. It was fast, and chaotic. He didn't smoke. Why was his heart rate so fast?

It begins to slow down. I look up to find Vance fast asleep. How did he fall asleep that quickly?

I bury my head into his chest as I place an arm around his torso.

I feel

Safe

I feel myself relaxing as my eyes begin to shut.

This is nice

This feels

Right

Authors note 😊 :
I'm going to add drawings to all my chapters in the future, because it's fun to draw the scenes. That's all, I'll post frequently and update as much as possible.