They were outside.
On a bench.
On the roof.
In the freezing November air.
Yet neither were cold.
The air was still, silent.
He could still smell the faint scent of vomit, even though the boy had changed clothes.
Neither spoke.
Yet somehow it wasn't awkward.
He stared off into the night, gazing over the rooftops before them.
Looking anywhere but at the boy.
The boy whom he had not spoken a word to, and yet made his stomach jump and flip.
The boy with the clearest blue eyes.
From the corner of his eye, he saw the boy push some of his white-gold hair out of his face.
The boy coughed awkwardly.
He sat up straighter.
Any trace of his previous drunkenness had vanished.
Whether it be the bracing wind or the gorgeous specimen beside him.
The boy looked at him.
Smiled.
He smiled back.
And they sat like that, neither saying a word.
But it was perfect.
VOCÊ ESTÁ LENDO
One Night (boyxboy)
ContoIn one night everything he thought he knew changed. In one night he fell in love. With a boy.
