Bro's Don't Do This ¿Jyatt/Fack?

I'm human*

Jaeden's pov
Monday morning

I'm not queer. I'm really not.
I'm not defined by some degrading label. I'm just a boy who seems to be different.
Why was Wyatt so pissed at me. I don't understand.
"Hey asshole."
He burst through my door and I jumped up.
"Dude! Don't forget the knock. So not cool."
Crazy, just as I need him, he's here. Seems like a story, doesn't it? Wish it was. Maybe then I could be with him in the end.
"Shut up and I'll tell you what went down that night."
And so his rambling began. I hadn't asked, but he still told. Both of us sat on my bed and that's where the secrets came out. On my bed. Him on the end, facing me. As I stay under the covers, practically hiding but keeping eye contact.
"-and well when you uh. When you grabbed my hand. I got scared and told you to stop acting weird. I said: "bros don't do this.""
I started to feel uneasy at this, our friendship almost ended over me touching his hand? Well I always do that, what's up with that.
The space between us seemed forever, and I stared between it. Making sure to never let my chocolate brown eyes wonder to his.
"And you said you'd prove "you weren't no fairy." guess you know what's next."
"I kissed Madison."
"More like Madison kissed you and you cried."
Red, the color of blood, stained my face like nail polish stains nail beds.
That must be why I was crying.
"Heh. Guess she was that bad, huh?"
I tried to crack a funny, but Wyatt just stared at the hardwood floor and shook his head slowly.
"You told me you're gay. And I-"
My face went hot again.
"And you what? You hate me. You can't be a friend to a faggot like me-"
I stood up then, angered. And as I jolted up, the shorter followed, standing right in front of me.
Wyatt then pushed me.
Disappointed? So am I.
No, we didn't kiss like the movies you watch or the stories you read.
He fucking pushed me.
"Don't talk about yourself like that, man!"
And he kept pushing. My skin was on fire, but not from his fingertips touching my clothed chest. But from his palms colliding with me, making such fierce contact that it made it hard to breathe. I, now against the wall with tears threatening to spill out of my eyes. Almost began to sob.
"I'm sorry!"
I yelled it. I couldn't handle it anymore, it hurt!
He stopped pushing and grabbed a fist full of my shirt, twisting it, making sure that I was closer. Our skin touched now, and I was to his level.
And just as we both went to speak, he left. He didn't run. He didn't try to escape as fast as he could. He just walked away. As if he was disappointed. And honestly, I was too.
I don't know what I was disappointed at. But I knew what I was feeling, was just that.