Step One: You Don't Want Me As Your Enemy (BOYxBOY)

Chapter Eight

Part Two – The Middle.

Chapter Eight

I was bent over myself, my hands resting on my knees as I heaved my day’s intake of food onto the lawn. I wasn’t a bad runner, and I was pretty fast, but I’d let myself get out of shape over the years and now I was paying for it. Note to self; don’t run long distance without stretching. My whole body ached. I felt dizzy and disorientated, and most of that I’m sure wasn’t from the run, but from Duncan. The bastard, what was he playing at? The gay hater for the past few years had turned around and kissed me? What crazy world was I living in? Nothing made sense anymore. I wouldn’t reveal this to anyone, out of shame mostly, but out of fear of being gang bashed for real. My phone buzzed in my pocket and startled me for a moment. I reached in and got it. The message was from Ian… had he heard anything yet?

‘Hey, do you wanna hang out tonight? Xx’ the message read. I didn’t bother to reply, only pocketed my phone and kept on walking down the street towards my house. I wondered if I could get away with going straight up to my room without questions, I bet my complexion was something on the green side.

“Angus, is that you?” a familiar but younger voice than I had been expecting called me as I walked in the front door.

“Yeah,” I replied. Then I realized I’d left my bag behind the gym where I’d taken it off and left it against the wall. What was worse though was that my journal was in it, with all my darkest secrets. And it was now probably in the hands of my sworn enemy. I slumped against the wall right there and slid to my knees, they cracked on the tiles but I didn’t care.

“Angus?” the voice called again, worried this time and a lot closer. My older brother Ben’s feet appeared around the corner as my eyes became foggy and I sunk into blackness.

When I woke I was laying somewhere very soft and comfy. It felt great, all cozy and warm. I rolled over to my side, pulled the blanket up and went back to sleep.

When I woke again I was more alert. My left arm had gone numb from me sleeping on it and I dreaded the feeling of the blood rushing back through my veins. Someone moved in the room and I froze, my breath stuck in my throat mid intake.

“Angus?” a different voice from my brother asked. I sighed and rolled over.

“Hey mum,” I gurgled.

“Oh honey, you’re alright,” she sighed with relief. I opened my eyes to see a young woman with the same wild ginger hair as mine sitting in a chair by my bed with a towel draped across her shoulders. Her blue eyes were worried and close to tears so I reached out from under the blanket, despite the sudden cold air, and patted her on the knee. She grabbed my hand and held it tightly, her fingers cold and stiff.

“We’ve been so worried,” she was sobbing, “Ben said you just collapsed in the front doorway. The medics came and said you suffered a panic attack of some sort.” I closed my eyes again and thought. A panic attack did seem like a reasonable explanation to follow the past events.

“How long was I out?” I asked groggily. When mum didn’t reply I opened one eye to look at her. She was biting her lip and staring at my bedroom door where my poster of Pete Wentz was on full display and shirtless.

“Mum? How long was I out?” I repeated in case she hadn’t heard me.

“It’s Wednesday night honey,” she whispered. I shot up and flung the covers off. I was in my boxers, but that didn’t stop my leaping off my bedspread and yanking my bedroom door open before charging out into the living room. Ian was sitting on the couch, bent forward with his head in his hands so his sandy hair fell over his fingers. He parted his fingers along with his hair and looked at me without any other movement.

“OHMYGOD!” he cried, bolting to his feet and then springing over the couch that was between us before stopping sort and putting out his arms for a hug. I wrapped my arms around his waist and pulled him to me into a tight hug. He began to sob into my shoulder. Ben walked in from the kitchen holding a sandwich on a plate, probably for Ian. As if to answer my pondering, Ian’s stomach grumbled. He pulled away from me and grinned cheekily and happily.

“I’ll just leave this here and go…” Ben smiled, placing the sandwich on the bookshelf by the door and walking back out. Ian put both of his hands on my cheeks and pulled my face to his, planting a kiss on my lips. It felt strange, and the feel of Duncan suddenly struck through me. I shoved Ian away; he crashed back into the couch and looked at me stunned. I didn’t know what to say, I’d never pushed Ian away before. His mouth was pulled down at the edges and my heart throbbed. Why didn’t it feel the same anymore?