•strictly platonic• boy x boy •

•one•

Emerson Scott

Robyn will always and forever be with me until I die. No doubt about it. He's my number one, the bro before hoes, the other pea in a pod, and most of all, the best friend one could ever ask for. As we sat on the couch watching a marathon of kids movies for nostalgia, his head rested on my lap as I stroked through his soft tufts of brown hair, both eating popcorn. I frowned as I looked down at the sad bowl, useless popcorn kernels staring back at me. I pinched one and flicked it at Robyn's face. He pouted and looked up at me, raising his arms in the air in exasperation.

"Hey! What was that for?!" Robyn looked at me with an accusatory glance and I laughed, retracting the hand I used to stroke through his hair and placed it on my hip.

"You ate most of the popcorn, fatass." Despite the seemingly derogatory nickname we smiled at each other. "You have to make another bowl," I demanded as I nudged him with the empty bowl. Robyn narrowed his eyes at me.

"Fat where? Bro, you're just jealous of my rock-hard washboard abs," he said smugly. To prove his point, he lifted up his shirt with a smug grin. He always liked to rub in my face that he was the basketball captain when I was just a nerd and a try-hard in school. Not my fault his only brain cell can only function for basketball. I rolled my eyes so hard that he flicked my forehead in annoyance.

Snorting at his egotistical claims, I pulled the shirt high enough so it got stuck on his head. At his attempt to remove it, I chuckled at the muffled screams. "Yep, you're jealous. Exhibit A," he stated matter-of-a-factly when he finally got the shirt back down.

I grinned down at him as he buried his head deeper into my lap, cozying up under that shared blanket. "Sure," I muttered sarcastically, training my eyes on the screen playing '101 Dalmatians.' Just another Tuesday with my best friend.

After a comfortable silence, Robyn spoke up. "Em?"

I hummed, shoveling a handful of newly popped popcorn into my mouth. "Yeah?"

"I'm gay," he said with a straight (not so straight I guess) face. Suddenly, he became tense as the atmosphere turned awkward. I coughed on a popcorn kernel. It became so silent I could hear the ticking of the clock in the kitchen.

A second passed before I decided to say something back. "Okay," I replied nonchalantly, sporting a reassuring grin that he returned with a sigh of relief.

"If I knew you'd respond this way, I would've come out to you sooner!" He ran his hands down his face and bit his lips, a normal habit, and looked at me with his glassy, honey-colored eyes.

I softly gasped and started to comb my fingers through his hair in an attempt to calm him. "Oh, don't cry on me. You know I can't handle emotional people."

"I'm sorry, these are tears of joy. I'm just so happy that you're my best friend," Robyn uttered with a huge smile.

"Aww. Love you too," I cooed as he lightly elbowed me. "How long have you known?"

"Maybe for a few years, I don't know," he said sheepishly, something that was rare in contrast to his usual outgoing personality.

I facepalmed myself. "Either I'm a horrible best friend, or you're just really good at acting straight." I was too engrossed in my books or too busy hanging out with him to even think about his love life. It never crossed my mind. Now that I had thought about it, he never talked about girls, hadn't dated in a while, and overall just focused on basketball. Can't believe I never noticed. I'm pretty sure I'm the fakest, worst best friend ever.

"You have an awful gaydar and you're such a horrible friend," he said with a raised eyebrow. Ugh, I knew it.

I stuttered, "B-but you've had more girlfriends than me!"