**_Rayburn_**

I wonder what is going on between Oswald and I these days. I have no idea what caused this—this hot, feverish air that consumes the both of us when we’re near each other. All I know is that Oswald feels it too, and he likes it.

I’m at my room at the moment, trying to grasp my thoughts as best as I can, when a knock sounds on my door.

“Ray?” The voice is a deep pitch, one that I know is making its way out of a light brown throat and a set of supple lips.

I grunt, then bite my lip. Why must I think such taboo things; that they are about my own friend makes it worse than just if it was a stranger. Slipping out of my bed, I make it towards the closed door and answer in a hoarse voice, “Yes, Oswald? What do you need?”

I can hear as Oswald shuffles, almost nervously, behind the door. My hand is on the doorknob, which is growing warmer as my body heats up with the thought of knowing that Oswald was just so close—even behind this door, he is so close.

“Fuck,” I mutter.

Oswald hears me and suddenly the knob twists underneath my hand. I hold onto it, making sure that he had no entry. “Rayburn? Are you alright? Can I come in?”

“No!” I needed to keep him out. The amount of self control I have left is at my lowest; I feel as though insanity is trying to pull the rest of my strings loose so that I may shower Oswald in the caresses of my lips. “You need to leave!”

Oswald lets go his grip on the door, and I sigh. “I know I can be irritating sometimes, Ray, but I didn’t even do anything wrong this time,” I let go of the door, after locking it of course, and stray back to my bed. There’s a quiet for a while, and I think he’s left, but then, breaking my peace and relief, Oswald’s voice, quiet, says, “Ray, I need to tell you something.”

I don’t even try to pretend to be asleep. I know he’s going to stay until I answer him. “Yes, Oswald?”Quiet sounds again, making me nervous. Quiet isn’t a word that one would use to characterize Oswald, but it has already happened twice. “Are you alright?”

“Rayburn Lanvard Greyhead,” his voice is shaky, “You have been my best friend over the past twelve years, and—oh man—I have only discovered my feelings these past months.”

I still. A thought pulls in my head, a thought of what I think he’s going to say; confess. No, that can’t be what’s happening—right? “Oswald?”

“Let me finish! Please,” he adds as an after note, “Rayburn, every day I spend with you is wonderful, amazing, and by every divine being out there, I am _blessed_ to have you with me. I know you can here originally off of…troubling circumstances, and I don’t want to sound horrible when I say this. But I am so glad that fire happened; so glad that you came to live with this _aunt_; so glad you finally opened up to me on that day at the park. When you cried on my shoulder.

“I think that’s the day I fell for you, even though I didn’t know it myself. Didn’t even consider it. But Rayburn, you truly are wonderful. I know you can be rude, hypocritical, sarcastic, and mean, but you are so many other wonderful things. You’re sweet when you want to be, and when you are, you make everyone love you. You’re kind, you help those in need, and you are such a great artist. I know you don’t think so, but not all great artist draw the same thing; that’s what makes them different, what makes _you_ different.”

He pauses to sniff—is he crying?—and I notice my heart rate, the pounding intensity of it. I slip out of my bed once more and stride to my door, silent, heat flowing to every vein in my body as Oswald continues.

“Ray, I just want to say, well, what I want to say through all of this is….” He trails off, eyes widening as he sees me opening the door. I stare up at him, at the glistening tears in his warm brown eyes. The way his reddish hair clings to his light brown skin as he breaths raggedly, plump lips parted. His large frame trembles as I stare deep into his eyes, and at that moment, both of our walls break; our constraints, _everything_.

“Oh god! I _love_ you Rayburn Greyhead!”

The moment after he yells my name, **_my name_**, in that sentence so passionately is quick. I do the only thing one can do in this horrific situation.

***

**_Oswald_**

I never thought this day would happen. The day where I would confess and Rayburn would agree.

He never agrees with me on anything. Ha!

But now I have him in my arms, melted, soft. His thin, pale frame clinging to me as we lay in the bed together.

We didn’t do much, Rayburn didn’t want to, and I would never do anything serious without his consent, but he agreed to cuddling. I’m quite fine with that, I just like touching him.

I stroke the back of his neck, trying to find an easy rhythm with our breathing as he lays on top of me. It’s much harder than you would think. Rayburn’s whole face is buried in the side of my neck. His breath is warm and humid and…oh, I feel quite sleepy all of a sudden. Today has been a rush, even if it’s only been an hour.

I stop in my stroking—Rayburn makes a whine at that, making me smile—and ask, “May I kiss you?”

Rayburn stiffens, bringing his head out of the tiny burrow at the side of my neck. _I_ whine at that and he gives a small smile before it sinks and turns into a remorseful expression. “I love you,” I nod, he’d already said it multiple times after my confession. It seems he just likes saying it, as though he can’t believe what is happening is real. “But, I don’t know. It’s not….”

He trails off, but I know what he was going to say. _Right, it’s not _**_right_**.

Before I can control myself, I pull him back onto my chest and whisper into his ear, “If I was a girl, would you kiss me?”

“W-what?” Rayburn shakes his head, trying to push from my chest. “I can’t imagine you as a female.”

I tighten my hold. I not kidding when I say that I love holding Rayburn. “Try. Would you kiss me then?”

“No!” He stops his struggling. “I can’t even think of a girl like that….” Rayburn sniffs. His arms come up to warp around my torso, hands stopping at my spine. Dispite the situation, I find myself smiling and feeling giddy at his touch. I shake my head and go back to being serious. Rayburn is hurting.

“But what about me?” I ask, trying to get Rayburn to lift his head from my chest to no avail.

He shrugs. “I want to, but I don’t,” he finally looks at at me, eyes wide, but everything below still on my chest. It’s making me warm, and my heart race. Ah, I don’t think I’ll live if Rayburn feels off about the whole thing. Better to have it settled now.

“So, you don’t love me?” I raise an eyebrow.

Rayburn startles and pushes himself up to face me fully. His chin’s set, lips forming a frown. “That’s not it! I just—I just feel that it’s too early, that’s probably it!” He shakes his head vigorously, trying to convince me—and himself too—that that was the reason.

I’m okay with it as long as he’s still here, alive, happy, and healthy.

“Alright,” I press him forehead with mine and he stills. I smile, peering into his grey eyes, “You truly are something else Rayburn Greyhead.”

He says what I expect; what he’s always been saying every since I gave him the first compliment he heard from me. “Am I?”

Rayburn’s smiling now, pale complexion flushing. “Of course you are,” I say, watching as he blinks, those long, thick eyelashes flutter, “because you’re you, and I’m me.”

***

_(I FUCKING LOVE THEM!!!!! Anyways, whoohoo! I actually wrote 100 writings that aren’t all shitty. Excuse my language. _

_I feel content. I must thank all of you, even through your troubles and hardships, you’re you! And you’re still you! Ummm, what else—oh yes! Thank you for putting up with my rants, stupidity, and writings. Yes, yes, it’s not something big, but really, these past two something months have been fantastic, disregarding school. So thank you! _

_Thank ALL of you!)_