The idea of sensuous activities first didn't really cross Simon's mind. The exhaustion was back, and dear god, it had brought its friend misery along. Even his shirt being removed hadn't triggered a change of heartbeat...just, appreciating being cared for in this rough patch.

I don't think I could be facing this on my own.
Probably not. I would have played tough guy in front of the nurse, gone home and cried myself to sleep on the bathroom floor.
....
But I guess I'm not really alone am I. And like he said, we match, I guess.

This little warm tempo quickly heated, moisture and closeness inevitably understood as clear advancement. Sy wasn't sure at first, his lips trembling a little instead of returning the kiss, a deep sigh quivering out of his chest as he looked to Haylen, unsure. The confusion had become much, and after today, he wasn't sure if this level of physical interraction could continu without getting them any type of attachement they be force to break. Things couldn't go back to awkward...he liked the idea of being friends.

God those moves he pulled though, so slow, so gentle like little dry kisses smoothly spread from the tips of his fingers...it drowned all reason and in the end, he was swallowed by this lustful sensation... It wasn't this animalistic need, this physical relief like it had been. This was far too soft, too smooth. He could feel each even heart beat, linger each and every kiss. If before he could barely tell the tongue from the lips playing on his skin, he could tell which each of these was touching him, his eyes rolling back slightly in a little groan.

With a set of clumsy unajusted hands, he grazed Haylen's skin from the elbows to the shoulders, nice and smooth back down each ribs, each inkling of skin. He could tell where there had been scars, the smoothest area, all of it. With hungry eyes, he glanced to Haylen, his eyes closed, he studyed him, all the details. He just, wanted it all.

"I know you will."

Gently, he brought his left hand back, tickling the surface of the skin at the shoulder blade, once, and the collar bone, twice, defining the line of his jaw, making Haylen look him in the eyes without use of actual physical force, just a gentle inviting pull, his warm green eyes plundging deep, deep in his silvery ones, gazing for a long enough moment before pulling him in a kiss, warm, slow and yet, equally if not more passionate, keeping concentrated to each other's lips for a long, long moment.

What am I doing?
I don't know.
I want more.
I want more.
Oh god I want more.

I feel like all we ever do is... this.

We get all dirty and physical, and then we talk a little, go to class, argue a little, and start over again.

It's like a vicious cycle.

...and I like it.

"I'm sure you know... but I'm not sure you know just how good I am at making people feel really friggin' amazing," he murmured into Simon's ear, his voice like a sedative. "I'm gonna make you feel so good that you'll forget that you ever even got hurt." Haylen gyrated his body, the denim of his jean-clad thighs rubbing against Simon's hips.

Leaning forward, Haylen placed his lips beside a bruise on Simon's jaw, masterfully working his lips against the soft skin. "You taste good," he breathed, trailing light kisses down to Simon's collarbone and twirling his tongue where the bone dipped.

Oh, shut your trap...

All talk and no play makes Haylen a dull boy.

Haylen smirked at his own thoughts and moved his hands fleetingly over Simon's body, letting the fingers of his right hand rest on the button of Simon's jeans while his other hand busied itself in Simon's mop of auburn hair. He scooted down to sit closer to Simon's knees, which allowed himself more space to bend over and taste at the sensitive skin of the boy's heaving stomach.

"Mmnh, god damn, Sy," he chuckled, "you're good at this whole sitting-back-and-letting-me-do-the-work thing. I think I like it."

You're talking again.

I know. I can't help it. I like to talk dirty.

Judging by the expression of pure bliss and lust that was plastered on Simon's features, Haylen could tell that the redhead was eager for more.

If he wants more, I'll give him more.

Slowly and teasingly, of course, but he'll get it all the same.

Haylen swayed his hips, his body moving at an agonizingly torpid pace as it ground against Simon's. He pulled his shirt over his head, letting it fall to the mattress beside them. "Had to get rid of that," he announced with a moan, "it was getting in the way." The way he moved in slow-motion made everything seem that much more sensual, and the fact that it was pitch-black in the room only added to the experience.

Mmm...

This may be even better than the rushed, frantic times.

As much as I like them.

This is nice.

Slow and steady wins the race.

Haylen's lips escaped his, trailing down while Simon's lower twitched once in withdrawal from that delicious warm heat. Something in his chest ached oh-so good, the type of pain that would turn the most careful of them into masochist, that burning desire, that need and longing for someone.

So much.
Mmmnm there....

"Mmnh, god damn, Sy, you're good at this whole sitting-back-and-letting-me-do-the-work thing. I think I like it."

The only response he was able to give was that humorless chuckle, a little laughter from behind his veil of delirium. Everything just felt so, damn, good! His quick breathing turned to panting, barely controlled by how he was hanging on so tightly to the material of his bed sheets, clinging them in his hands so hard his knuckles went from white to red.

Maybe the little break during which Haylen was removing the constraint of his shirt would have helped if the sight of his flexing abdomen hadn't been so sexy and attractive, twisting inwardly while his arms fluidly lifted up, the shirt slipping off slow motion in Simon's mind, revealing his face behind the material, his hair falling back down, lower chocolate locks kissing the bottom of his neck.

God that's just ...mmmm

He could barely return a smile to Haylen's vocal tease, his arousal far to advanced to be guiding his own limbs normally. He's become a slave to his own pheromones...and that was dangerous.

The moment Haylen's lips met again with his skin, their body heat intertwining once more, a large jolt of pleasure coursed all through him getting for reaction the involuntary reflex to tense all muscles, arching his back in a full 'C' figure. Ecstasy without a doubt...and like all of that name, there was the down that follow, noticing all too quickly that he was in no condition for such motion the second he straightened back up.

"Ugh..."

He winced, curling himself forward a little, his arm in a semi protective way. How helpless, and yet, only during the initial second did this desire diminish, only coming back in a more intense version. Relaxing a little, he opened his eyes and looked to Haylen, panting more quickly as a result to the strong shot of pain and yet, something promiscuous was still there. He looked in the boy's seemingly worried face for a second.

I can't continue.
I can't stop.
No way I can stop.

He moved Haylen to the side a little, using much effort in this before lying down, head on the pillow and resting on his back. Afraid the boy would leave, he took a hold of his wrist, pleading with a simple look.

"Wait...come here."

Beckoning with his free hand, he got Haylen to scoot closer until he was sitting near his pectoral muscles, putting a finger to his lips, demanding some silence as he did what he'd enjoy doing so much lately, but never had the boldness to truly indulge himself. He wanted to admire him.

"Shhhh...don't move. I just, I want to look at you. You're so damn beautiful and you don't know it."

The finger lingering on Haylen's lips serving as a pointer for his eyes, he trailed it slowly, forming the contour of his lips, those gorgeous lips in berry color, just his flavor. He brushed over the lip rings and dawdled down, defining each neckline, the Adam's apple under that nice and smooth tanned skin, like he was drawing him, every detail. He loved how defined the muscles were on his thin neck, the protruding collarbones adding a sense of character to the boy. He continued down, the tip of his fingers barely touching his skin, making way to the chest muscles, down the center and along every rib, creating a shiver in the boy he was devouring from his eyes.

"Shhhhh...." he glanced up for just a second before returning to his occupation.

His fingers drifted over the bruises left on his ribs. Under this light, he didn't feel appalled or angry. There was a certain beauty to it. The beautiful broken boy. How beautiful it is to be near something, someone broken, that powerful feeling that maybe, he could do something to fix it. A little side smile creeping to his lips, he streamed down over each abdomen muscle, around the scar all people hold, his navel, caressing the golden skin, each flaw, each scar. It was just all so...delightful, the sight and simple feather touch of the tip of his fingers enough to give him tremors...up until it became too much, his hand finding its way back to Haylen's jaw, cupping it gently, eyes locking together.

"Kiss me."

Cool shivers ran up and down Haylen's fragile spine as Simon's eyes scrutinized every inch of his body, piercing green flickering over every last curve and scar on Haylen's skin. Being looked at as something other than an object of pleasure - being appreciated - was something that Haylen wasn't even close to being used to, and if it weren't for the way that a veil of tranquility had seemingly been draped over the entire room, he would've felt uneasy. But due to the comfort of the shadows and the soothing sound of Simon's breath, he was somehow okay with this situation.

"Kiss me." Simon's voice reached his ears and smoothed through his system like melted honey.

"Of course," Haylen breathed, finding himself strangely mesmerized. He scooted down so that he lay flat on his side beside Simon, their chests just barely touching, and closed the gap between their lips.

He worked his pierced mouth softly over Simon's, taking the redhead's bottom lip between his own and tasting, not only savoring the musky-sweetness that was forever present, but Simon himself, his very essence.

Haylen slowly and cautiously placed his hand against Simon's jaw, pressing their foreheads together and peering at the boy through a fringe of dark hair. "You... you're beautiful, too," he decided softly, his gaze raking over Sy's face. It was so carefully scultped - those high cheekbones, that narrow chin, those intense jade orbs that could burn right down to your heart. Even the freckles that were sprinkled so precisely across his cheekbones were abnormally perfect, accenting his features. "Really."

I don't understand.

We're having some sappy gross moment.

And I... I'm kind of enjoying it.

Forcing his annoying thoughts from his brain, Haylen ran his thumb up and down Simon's swollen cheek, applying only the slightest of pressure so that he wouldn't hurt him. "I don't get you," he confessed, pulling back to leave some space between them. "I thought I hated you, but now, I think it's... it's more that you intrigue me. But it's not right. I'm not... I'm not accustomed to anything in regards to other people. I never know what to say or do..."

Because I'm always used to being lashed out at, with both words and fists.

"...and I'm just gonna shut up now, because I've never been eloquent with speech."

Unless you count dirty-talking and screaming obscenities.

Which, in truth, is the furthest from 'eloquent' that one can get.

Haylen stuck true to his word, shutting his lips only to bring them to the honey skin of Simon's neck. He kissed along the side of Sy's throat, then nuzzling against his collarbone.

With a slight shift of his body, Haylen found his gangly legs entangled with Simon's, and their bodies fit together like puzzle pieces.

This has gotta be something like what they mean when they talk about being 'okay'.

Being 'happy'.

I know it's gonna be short-lived, but... it's nice for now.

The admiration was still there all the while he listened to Haylen, noting every movement of his dark eyebrows, the change of every shine in his eyes. It was visible that this, what they were doing right now, intimate romancing was confusing Haylen. He liked it somehow, this confusion that was saturating the air. It made less intense, easier to absorb.

Simon's side smile became undone by a series of kisses, Haylen holding to his vow of temporary silence. There was no complaining about to be done from Simon's part either, his arms moving and hugging Haylen until the boy was comfortable on top of him, their legs intertwined. His scent of warm spicy skin became intoxicating, making the sensation of his lips brushing his neck and collarbone all the more powerful. Romance was slowly being tainted by thicker and thicker layers of lust. After all, it's not like they actually were in love or anything. It was the illusion of the moment they enjoyed, the spontaneous intimacy and new friendship. Add all of those with a hearty dose of sensuality and you have a recipe for a love-like illusion. Right now though, the balance of ingredients were changing, and Simon's eyes began to gloss over with every additional kiss Haylen planted on his way down. His hair was so soft in the grip of his hands, and the act of just being there, unable to really do anything, it was something very, very enjoyable.

Time hazed over, shapes and shadows dancing together, even the sounds were being all merged in a single symphony in his mind while all his energy gathered before being drained out. The kid had skills he had to grant him that.

Simon pulled him back until they were once again, face to face, kissing his jawbone up to the corner of his lips, detaching just before he'd reach those cold little silver piercings.

"Mmmmm, you're not tired already are you?" he mocked the noticeably more experienced boy, his hand avidly massage the muscles in his back in this strange and yet comfortable embrace.

There was no doubt, Simon was surely, Haylen addicted.

Biting his lip, Haylen looked at Simon through hooded eyes, a smirk lingering at the corners of his mouth. "I'm a little tired, yeah," he said, "but I've still got a little left in me."

He snuggled cozily against Sy's chest, a contented sigh escaping him. He closed his eyes and felt Simon's hands idly exploring his torso, fingertips drifting nimbly from his shoulders, to his chest, to the little dimples in his back, to his aching spine, and finally to the collection of barely-healed bruises on his ribcage.

And for some reason, that slight, slight touch, triggered a disturbing memory from the back of Haylen's mind, and panic quickly clouded his chest.

"You... won't ever know love," Matt hissed, slamming Haylen against the brick wall of the apartment's exterior. "You'll only know pain, and darkness, and hate. And you deserve everything you get, you know that. You don't deserve to feel wanted. No one will ever want to fall asleep beside you, holding you in their arms, tracing over every- single- bone-"

Haylen stifled the sobs that threatened to escape with every new hit to his stomach, with each new blow to his chest. "I don't care," he managed, every word a lie.

Matt cackled. "Yes you do," he promised, suddenly so close to Haylen that Haylen could feel his body heat. "You care, you little brat. But no one else cares about you. The only 'loving' you'll ever get is from those filthy boys that you hang around every night, and don't you think for one second that I don't know about what you do with them."

Haylen cringed. "It doesn't matter," he sputtered, clutching his side and trying to shove Matt away. "Someday I'll be out of here, and I'll find someone who cares. I'll find someone who'll be able to offer me something other than hatred."

"No. You won't."

And with a swift punch to the cheek, Haylen was passed out on the concrete, left alone through the night until he woozily awoke in the morning.

Overwhelmed by the stinging words, Haylen jolted up, tearing himself from Simon's arms. "Get off, get off," he said, stumbling off of the side of Sy's bed. "Don't touch me... just don't."

It didn't matter to Haylen that he'd been the one to initiate anything in the first place. The kissing, the talking, the snuggling. It had all been his idea, but it was easier to lay it on Simon's shoulders and forget about it.

He crawled pitifully onto his own mattress, facing away from Simon. He was instantly bombarded by the frigid temperature of the room. "It's just... I need to sleep or something," he whispered, trying to provide an explanation for his sudden change in behavior.

He sure as hell wasn't about to try to describe that horribly vivd memory of Matt; how he wasn't supposed to be held, how he wasn't supposed to be cared about.

It scares me how much Matt still gets to me.

It's not like his words are my bible. Shit, I should've stayed next to Simon.

But for some reason, I have this underlying belief that maybe Matt was always right... maybe I really never do deserve love.

Haylen quaked beneath his sheets, debating whether or not to speak up. "Hey, Sy," he finally breathed, feeling sick to his stomach. "Have a good sleep..."

...so that at least one of us will.
 

Things couldn't have been more shocking, Simon was left in a state of utter confusion while he saw Haylen panic away a little. Being anyone else he might have just, gone back to sit by him again, but the guilt and impression that this was his fault, that'd he'd done something wrong shackled him to his bed.

"S-sorry..."

Useless.
I hurt him.
I dunno what I did but from the sight of him I scared the crap out of him.
Worthless.
Can't I do anything right?
I guess, maybe it really was going too far.

Clumsily pulling off his jeans, he slipped under his blankets, aching from head to toes with no more of that pheromone and whatever other emotional hormones that was keeping him numb. And that ball, that big aching mass trying to compress his entire rib cage, that thing they call guilt and remorse, contributed to making it worse. But he couldn't whine right now, he had to stay silent, even if he felt like doing nothing else but complain for the next hour or so, everything so, strange.

"Hey, Sy, have a good sleep..."

"Mm.. you too." he breathed in return.

The night felt like a long one, disturbed by dreams and transfigured ghosts of his past, mocking him. The aching of his body transgressed in his slumber, re-living the humiliation and terror he'd felt, pinned down to the lockers... and he'd spent all of those nights alone, with no one else under the blankets with him.

After that night, seeing Haylen's reaction, he became convinced he'd somehow triggered it. Simon had come to believe that this had possibly gone to far and that it had to stop. It was nice to befriend his roomate, and sure the benefits had been nice given it was something he had needed to experience, but doing this over and over again, was just asking right out to get burned, on both their ends, wasn't it? He'd told himself so, convinced himself of it.

And so three weeks went by, where the two boys lived harmoniously together...well, if you count their conversations being limited to Hi, Bye and a few words regarding school work. Haylen's speech pattern hadn't changed but there was no fights, no insults...and no more proximity. All that remained what this constraining tension.

Life went on, and Simon remembered more what he'd wanted, and gone to search during his time outside class, spending less and less time in the dorm room. He'd find another boy of their orientation, being more of them in the school than he'd assume. Sure, there was only a handful, but that was enough to give more than one choice. So far, he'd slept with two of them, something mindless he didn't quite enjoy as much. It's not that it hadn't been fun or pleasurable, it simply was a little, limited. Once the night over, it was over. No attachement, just attraction. And that is exactly what he craved, that special someone. On the second week he'd found a guy named Eric. It was a struck of luck really. The boy was his height, with short and spiky brown hair, hazel eyes and looking very masculine. He wouldn't have known of his sexuality if he hadn't seen some of the clippings he'd tried to hide in his book during their common math class.

It was then that Simon had asked him for a date, hoping that going slow might be what he'd been missing, a step that maybe, he needed to take to create romance instead of this mindless lust. But after two weeks and four dates, he felt nothing but friendship for the guy. His only good moment was that it'd been easy to let him down, finding that the feeling, or lack of it had been mutual.

On the Friday of that very third week, with no more homework and no work at the book store, a part time job he'd picked up, he just sat on his bed, working on the few homeworks he had left to do. Just this english essay on some strange world war II novel.

Haylen was in the room that evening, which always caused the tension to return. He wished he could place it, but he couldn't know what was causing it. At first, he just thought that this last night of theirs had been the cause, but it shouldn't have lasted more than a few days. No, this was permanently awkward. Like something was missing in the room. It could just be compared to something along the line of being faced with a broken car with a wrench at hand and no IDEA of what to do. You know it needs fixing, but what the heck is wrong?

He glanced over to Haylen, also sitting on his bed. Lately, every time he'd watched him from the corner of his eyes and caught him at a calm spot, he would have that look on his face, like something grimmy was brooding behind his eyes.

God why do I always want to go see him!?
I just, it's so stupid though but it's like I have this urge to just hold him and rock him or something! No use use asking if he's ok. It always feels weird and he always says he is, in his own way. Ugh, I need to do something but I don't even know what I want!

A pencil playing on his lips, his glancing involuntarily turned into staring, pondering repeated ideas at a rather insane speed. Wondering what was going on behind Haylen's mind. It almost felt unfair that he was actually fixing many cracks in his life.

He'd made amend with his orientation, even if he was not yet ready to face the world with it, give or take that many already knew anyways, at least those of this school. His wounds had mostly healed, a scar remaining close to his right eye and the bigger bruises on his ribs had left and tarnished spot on his skin. His grades were great and the kids, after being told on, had been greatly warned, the school fearing being sued for discrimination. Simon and Haylen had been exempt of warning and punishment for the event and the Cupid gang and calmed down for the moment, at least in English class.

But he couldn't dislodge the impression that things hadn't improved much for the boy he'd seen cry on his lap. Actually, if he could trust his senses any, he'd say they had gone worse.

His staring continued from behind his book, Haylen looking to his own things, appearing a little spaced out himself.

Why can't I just ignore him and go on.
Many guys have roommates they don't become close with.
Even gay ones.
I just, I keep being distracted the second he's in.

And he felt bad for him, wanted to help him. After this much time, it finally clicked. All the pieces placing themselves in orders as he replayed so many of his own thoughts, all the signs.

Oh, my, god.
I'm falling for the guy.
But he's not my type!
wait...
how the heck should I even know that.
hmmm

Closing his eyes, he debated inwardly, but made it as quick as he could.

I'm only going to be in high school once.
I can't keep playing this game, I won't live this again.

He'd made his mind up. He would try to win Haylen over.

"Hey...can I bother you for a sec?"

Haylen was going insane.

For the past three weeks, he'd happily alienated himself from the rest of the school, making himself as unnoticable as possible and leaving the dorm room only for necessary classes. When he wasn't in a classroom or sitting motionlessly on his bed, he was at the library, reading and drawing in the corner cubicle. He hadn't eaten much - only bits and pieces of things, maybe an occasional nibble of fruit or a cup of pretzel sticks. His eyes were sad and had lost their usual silver sparkle, dulling to a pallid grey.

He certainly wasn't handling things well at the moment. He'd let go. He'd lost control, and it was taking a toll on him.

Over the course of the twenty-odd days, he'd talked to almost nobody, only speaking with Simon on very general terms. He'd met two boys on a few hallway encounters, one of whom he'd felt a strong physical pull to. He had no name in Haylen's eyes, but his milk-white skin and honey hair and teasing lips had made up for everything. They'd had their fair share of late nights, playing their little game until one time when Haylen had let himself slip.

"Just get on the bed," the blonde prompted, shutting the door of his single-person dorm room behind him. It smelled of musty mattresses and spicy soap.

Haylen did as he was told, naturally assuming the role of being bossed around. It was nothing he wasn't used to, and though he normally wouldn't put up with it, he was too mentally exhausted to even try. He rolled onto his stomach, suddenly feeling the boy's breath hot on his neck.

"We've gotta make this fast; I have the night shift of my job to go to. C'mon." The paler boy climbed onto the bed, hovering over Haylen. He said almost nothing as he rushed everything, planting hasty kisses on Haylen's back before he moved on.

And as ecstasy built inside Haylen's chest, and his vision blurred with red and orange and white fireworks, it was Simon's name that rolled from his tongue.

Needless to say, he hadn't even seen the kid since, which he was okay with. He'd categorized the boy with all of the ones he'd left back home and hadn't thought any more of it.

At this very moment, though, he'd never felt so empty.

Haylen allowed his eyes to wander, exploring the profile of Simon's face as he felt himself sinking deeper into his squishy mattress. He hadn't slept for days now - he'd been up every night, thinking, thinking, thinking, and shivering, until the pinkish light of morning seeped through the window cracks.

The other boy was across the room, homework splayed in front of him but his eyes and thoughts clearly elsewhere. Haylen had mostly avoided the redhead, hardly permitting himself to even think about Sy until after dark. And whenever they spoke to each other, it was always in forced voices, forced smiles, forced inhales and exhales. It was excruciating.

I'm so... so tired of this.

I just...

I feel like I could sleep forever, and I still wouldn't feel better.

I just want to feel like I did for those few moments three weeks ago.

I want...

To not be afraid. To not fear losing control. To let myself go a little bit.

..Ah, such wishful thinking.

When Simon's soft voice travelled across the room, it came as quite the shock to Haylen. "Hey...can I bother you for a sec?"

"You're not a bother," Haylen rasped, his words scraping his throat dry. "Go ahead."

A very light smile, even if very temporary, couldn't be helped from crawling on Simon's lips as he heard Haylen say he was no bother. Not a bother, not a failure. It was close enough to feel a little appreciated. With whom it was coming from, it meant more.

Giving he had received the desired approbation, he sat on the bed, pulling a bent leg up for a more comfortable position, his knee brushing against Haylen's thigh. Normally the simple inkling of physical contact would have given him a surge, but he barely even noticed it. Not yet to the point of completely ignoring it, but close enough. He was beyond plain physical contact. He didn't even want it right now, and if his body would request it, he was sure he could resist the temptation. There was something he wanted more, he needed more.

"It's been weird. I haven't slept well in weeks, and there is no way you can bullshit me in saying you did."

This is touchy.
Good thing I haven't really eaten yet today I'd probably be sick I'm so damn nervous.

Eyes down as if contemplating the making of his own jeans, he bit his lower lip for a second, a little motion he failed to notice about himself, just for a little while, communicating his nervous state without the use of words.

Say SOMETHING though..

Nodding to his own inner thoughts, disregarding the oddity of it, he took a deep sigh, licking his lips to wet them a little before speaking, his eyes darting back to Haylen's tired face. Like every time, looking anew to the dark circles underneath them, the irregularly paste pale skin and the lack of life in the boy he liked made his stomach lurch a little, creating a tremor in his voice as he started speaking again.

"LoOok..." he frowned to himself for a mere millisecond " we have to talk or do something. This, this, I don't even know what this is but it's driving me mad! It's so tensed every time we're in the same room!" his frustration was seeping out, but it wasn't the angry kind, more like a plea for understanding.

He needed to get through to him but somehow what was normally natural for him was a more difficult task at the moment. Then again, the context had always been different. It wasn't for someone he cared for in this way. In an attempt to break in Haylen's defenses, he placed a warm hand on his lower leg, just to prove he was there, to stay.

"Talk to me, what's wrong. Look I can't hide it ok. I hate seeing you like that. It's friggin' killing me.. You've been like this walking zombie. You said before you felt like you could talk to me. Well you CAN. I'll listen, I won't judge you."

He knew the ultimate way to make the first breach in a solid set of defense, and that was to breach his own, to let him know, just a little bit. He moistened his lips a little more, the inside on his palms, including the one on Haylen's leg was breaking in a bit of a cold sweat. But nevertheless, he took a bit of a leap forward, his voice suddenly low and seemingly calm, though the hint of a tremor was still there.

"Look. I know I haven't exactly been the most talkative roommate either and that I've been acting a little weird too but...it's just. After that last time, I thought.. well I figured I'd done something wrong and that maybe if we stayed away it would be better. Well that snapped in my face. I think not talking to you..."

Not being near, or holding you.
Being no help at all.
Not kissing you or keeping you warm at night.

"I think it all made it worse. I'm sorry, I'm not just saying that, I am. Whatever I did. I'm sorry."

As Haylen listened quietly to everything that Simon was saying to him, he felt a slight warmth in his chest, and an overwhelming urge to just break down mocking his bloodshot eyes. "Don't say you're sorry," he said, his words broken. "You don't have anything to be sorry for. It was all me... I... I was just being paranoid. I was having.. thoughts."

Shifting on the mattress, Simon's hand still lingering on his leg, Haylen peered up at the ceiling. If he was going to tell Simon anything, he needed some composure first. He needed a filter. And because he had a hard time trusting anyone, even Simon, he had to mentally decide what he'd keep in to lock away in his brain for himself.

I... should I tell him?

I should. But..

"In reality," Haylen began, his voice shaky, "I should be the one... apologizing. I'm the one burdening you. I'm the one who's putting us through all this shit, and I just... I don't know. I want to talk to you. Hell, these past three weeks have been close to unbearable... I haven't eaten, haven't slept, and it's all 'cause of my self-punishment. You know..."

He squeezed his eyelids shut, trying to ignore the burn that was building behind them.

"The only friggin' reason that I even... made you get away from me in the first place... it was because of my mom's boyfriend. His name is M-Matt. He told me-" He paused, strugging to find the words. "He told me that I.. that I didn't deserve to fall asleep beside another person at night, and I don't know why, but for some reason I believed him. But that's really... one of the nicer things he's told me, oh god, Sy, m'sorry... I don't wanna lay this all on you..."

Big salty drops were welling in Haylen's eyes, but he couldn't let them escape. "He used to beat me, Sy. He'd hit me so hard that my bones would crack, and then he'd give me a nosebleed or cut or something temporary so that I'd be reminded for the rest of the night of how useless I was. He always told me how I'm... I'm a waste, a shame to my mom, and I think he's right, Sy, I really do. I don't know what I'll ever do in my life that will make a difference for anyone. I'll probably die at 20 on a street corner if Matt doesn't get to me first." He sniffled, lowering his voice to a whisper. "And I don't ever wanna face him again. I'd rather be dead than ever have to go back home."

I can't believe I'm actually telling him these things.

I really can't.

Haylen collapsed, falling back onto the mattress and making the entire bed shake with his dry sobs. "I-I can't do this; I can't be with you, I can't, because I think that I actually care about you, and that means I'm giving away a little piece of my control over things," he mumbled, furiously wiping his eyes with the heel of his hand. "And I don't want to make your life miserable, which is something I've apparently proven to be really friggin' good at... Simon, it's really as simple as Matt said. I'm not worthy of you, and no one deserves me."

He hoped that Simon would maybe offer some comforting words, maybe touch his arm lightly or something, but for a span of what seemed like forever, the only sounds and movements in the room were those of Haylen's attempts to stop his crying.

He hates me now.

He doesn't want anything to do with me.

He shouldn't, though. In the words of my mom...

I'm a disgrace.

The silence lingered on for a while longer, and Haylen began to wonder if Simon even knew what to say. He sat up, looking into Sy's haunting green eyes and chewing furiously at the inside of his cheek so that he wouldn't completely burst into a million little shards. "I'm sorry... I didn't mean to tell you all of that," he finally whispered, the words hushed and miserable. "I'm so sorry."

What else could be done but listen. He wanted Haylen to open up a little, and he did...a lot more than a little. Everything he heard was just like watching someone live his own personal fears...no wait, it wasn't LIKE, he WAS living those fear. To believe in being completely useless, a waste of space and air. But as much as he screamed in protest in his mind, he remained silent, listening as he thought he should. The most visible sign of inner turmoil was the quaking fist he was clenching so tightly blood began to drip on the side of his hand. He didn't even feel it, just needed the outlet.

The rest of the tale only made matters worse, waking this strange anger in Simon, the same he'd felt when they were cornered back in English class, but worse, much worse. There was nothing more he could wish than to sink his fist in this Matt's gut until the man would become nothing but a vegetable. Making HIM a waste of space. And oh, how he envisioned going to the hospital, hoping the coma stories to be true, those that say they can still hear people around, and remind the coma-man how useless he'd become.

Sy became so focus on this angry fantasy that he failed to notice the end of the story, coming too only after a moment of silence, seeing Haylen sit up with his cheeks tear stained from the heavy load of the confession. He couldn't even react, to horrified to see he'd just let him cry alone like that...again! And there he was, apologizing for his own existence! It was too much to handle. Anger, nerves, anxiety and worry, nothing really existed anymore. It was just Haylen, and Simon's NEED to do something.

Breathing out loudly he leaned forward, grasping Haylen and forcing him into a warm embrace, arms protectively wrapped around a frail Haylen, rocking back and forth, still unable to shake of this impression that there was so little he could do, when he so wanted to make it all go away.

"Stop. Stop that's enough. You're so wrong it's not even funny. You pushed people away and that's the only reason they wouldn't get close to you because you're pretty awesome. I know, I know it sound like ass kissing but it's not. If anything you're pretty damned entertaining to watch go and you can take anyone by surprise."

This isn't helping...

He shifted back until his back was against the wall, pulling Haylen over his laps, holding him still, a strong hand firm to his head, keeping it tightly tucked on his shoulder, trying with all his might to be some kind of physical shelter.

"If I see this Matt I swear he'll never forget my name, or yours! Haylen, you are worth being held and cared for. I wish you had been before, but if anything, even if it's not much, I care for you. It's just one person but you've changed my life. Even through the beating we got, the fights and crap we've had like, right at the start.... you've helped me. That's something."

He was calming down, his embrace less constraining and more soft, caring , his hand playing in the dark mass of soiled chocolate hair. He needed a shower, but it didn't even matter. It was still Haylen, pressed against him. Taking a second of silence, he kissed Haylen's forehead before leaning the side of his jaw on the top of his head.

"I'm not leaving you know. You haven't burdened me with what you've just said. I'm just glad you said it. I wanted to understand you a bit better. And to be honest, I think that I've been so miserable lately, because even if you were there, I've missed you. Do me a favor. At least just, try to rely on me a bit ok? I don't need protection, from anyone. But if I stand there and don't do anything, it'll kill me. I swear it will. So just, don't push me away."

Let me in.

The last word was breathed out in a breath that was beyond the definition of a plea, than a need or a desire. It was his reason, his thread to keep it together. "Please."

Everything was so overwhelming right now.

Haylen buried his face in the crevice where Simon's neck met his shoulder. He wanted so badly to tell him everything; to pour out all of the things that he held in his locked-off heart. He wanted to tell him about the nightmares, about his dad being in jail, about the things that his mom told him every day, about some of the darker things that Matt had done to him.

But he didn't want Simon to know him like that, at least not yet. He didn't feel comfortable with the idea of someone else holding his memories.

"Sy... I wanna trust you," he whispered against the redhead's skin. "But... I. I can't. Not right now." Warm tears were falling from his achy eyes, soaking through Simon's shirt.

He didn't mean it offensively - he just honestly couldn't. It would take more than a small confession on his part to fix his trust issues.

He nestled closer to Sy, shutting his eyes. "I'm... just glad you're here." The words felt out of place as they left his mouth. He hadn't before had any ounce of desire to be with another person for an extensive amount of time. "I think I've missed you for these past three weeks."

Think?

More like know.

Haylen began to wonder what Simon had even done over the time they hadn't talked. Twenty-one days was a relatively long time, and Haylen knew that Simon had not been just sitting around. He'd always gotten back to the dorm room pretty late at night, and more than once, Haylen had caught the scent of some other boy's cologne waft into the room with him.

He probably has some other kid who he's infatuated with now.

Maybe he got a night shift or job or something, too. A lot of kids have been doing that lately. And would explain the late dorm entries.

Why do I care?

Stop analyzing.

Folding himself into a smaller ball, Haylen leaned against Simon's chest, listening for a heartbeat. It was faint, but it was there, th-thumping into his eardrum. It sounded... sad, almost, but with a glimmer of hope.

That was one thing that Simon probably possessed that Haylen sure didn't. Hope. Optimism. Bright looks to the future. Good expectations of people. Second chances and orange sunsets and the lilting song of the ocean at night to promise that everything will turn out okay.

In a moment of silence, Haylen strained to listen for his own heartbeat.

And after a bit of searching, it reached his tired ears, a melancholy little collection of half-hearted thuds.

Even my heart is just about ready to give up...

Haylen felt that the only thing - the only person - keeping him grounded right now was Simon. Before boarding school, he'd constantly been on the verge of a complete breakdown. Even when he'd first arrived at SABHS, he'd just wanted to disappear.

Sometime inside him had changed, though. He suddenly had a little bit of will to live. Maybe there would be something to live for, now.

And it was more and likely due to Simon, whether he wanted to admit it or not.

"Sy," he finally spoke, exhaling softly, "thank you."
 

A huffed little breath and light hearted smile later, Simon felt much much relieved. Haylen had spoken, he had cried on his shoulder, and most of all, he was still holding on to him, well nestled in his arms. It felt right, more than right.

"No need for thank yous. I'm an idiot for not having done this much sooner. And you must trust me a little, after all you've told me already. It's not like anyone could expect you to tell me everything. I mean we've known each other for barely a month! Not like I've told you everything either. I have my shares of bad memories. This takes time. It' s more than normal. You're normal, in your little marginal way." he chuckled a little before kissing the top of his head.

"And you stink to, you know."

He teased him with a nudge of his chin. The next time they'd talked, he hoped both their spirits would be up, high enough to avoid any breaking apart. It was no wonder the guy was crying. This type of exhaustion can take a toll on people. He himself was pretty tired, even if all his issues weren't settled yet.

mmmm, maybe not the right time to ask him for something serious.
And that shower is more pressing.
He really doesn't smell that great.

"Come on. We're going for a shower. It'll make you feel better. And then, you and I are gonna have an early night and get some shut eye, in my bed."

With a gentle motion, Simon lifted Haylen from him just enough to have them face to face, looking him straight in the eyes. It was the first time he was a little nervous about doing this, but he still followed through, his stomach a little tight in fear. He placed to fingers under Haylen's chin, bringing him closer and planted a kiss on his lips, his eyes closing under the intense sensations it sent him spinning in.

God I've missed his lips.
And this is better than before...because it's just that, his lips without ulterior motives.

"Come on." he breathed.

After wiping some of the tear stains off Haylen's lightly dotted cheeks, he guided him slowly to the bathroom, turning the water to a comfortable warmth.

After quickly taking off his own shirt, leaving the white tee on the ground, he undressed Haylen, carefully and without any hint of lustful desires. It was a little present for sure, how could it not be!? The boy is damn gorgeous! Even in this weakened state.

"Get in, I'll be there in a sec."

Holding to his word, the moment his jeans, socks and boxers had joined the rest of the dirty laundry on the bathroom floor, he slipped in the shower, letting the warm water caress his skin. Haylen's was finishing to rinse the shampoo off his hair, his head tilted back under the running water. Such an attractive vision he was, his raised arms stretching his torso, defining each bone and muscle. Enough to have Simon mesmerized for a second, admiring the guy.

Definitely no doubt I like him.
But somehow, I don't see him letting me be his 'boyfriend' just yet.

He took a clean washcloth and foamed soap on it, placing himself behind Haylen and beginning to rub his back, taking away the filth.

"And I still think you're beautiful you know."

One minute Haylen was cradled in Simon's strong arms on his bed, and the next the both of them were in the shower, Haylen being gently cleaned off by the other boy.

"Mm, Simon, that feels nice," he murmured, arching his back against the soft press of the washcloth. He felt like not only was he being externally scrubbed, but also that part of his protective shell around his heart was being scraped away. It was almost relieving.

But he was having a difficult time concentrating on anything past the desires that were stirring in the pit of his stomach. As much as he didn't want to make this moment about the sudden lust and need he was feeling, he couldn't help it.

Hey. You can't blame me.

I've been Simon deprived for three weeks.

Plus... maybe I can make him forget the stuff that I told him. I don't want him worrying about me.

Haylen slowly turned on his heels, facing the redhead.

He spent a minute to simply relish the view before him - warm rivulets of water running down that alabaster skin, slicking through strands of orange hair and filtering over high cheekbones and chapped lips. Droplets fell from the tips of his fingers and travelled in streams down a flat chest, muscled stomach, and along the crevices of symmetrical hipbones. And if the body wasn't gorgeous enough, glistening with hot water, was his face, that face that the most beautiful male models should be jealous of.

Getting caught up in Simon's appearance, Haylen didn't even realize that the other boy hadn't stopped scrubbing his frail body, though now the cloth was moving slowly over his chest. He grinned a little.

He better not think that we're gonna get through an entire shower being all cutesy and caring like this. It's definitely not gonna keep on being like the ones on tv shows, where the lovers take a cuddly shower together and smile and hold each other gently.

We're not lovers anyway.

And that would be kind of impossible to manage.

"Thanks for cleaning me off... it was pretty thoughtful of you," he whispered, still feeling a little drained from the long day. "I think I should probably repay you. Good deeds deserve good deeds back."

He wrapped his hand around Simon's wrist, pulling his hand away and instead yanking all of Simon close to him. He began by planting a chaste kiss on the other boy's pink lips, letting his heavy lids drift shut as he deepened the kiss.

This... this...

I've missed this.

Tugging away, Haylen nuzzled against Simon's water-slicked chest, trailing his lips all across his collarbone and shoulders. He smelled pleasant, like the sweet-soapy scent that filled the shower. "I like this," Haylen decided out loud, bringing his hands down to grasp at Simon's waist. "You're kinda nice to look at yourself, you know. And you always smell good. And taste good. Really-" he skimmed his tongue over Simon's pecs "-really good."

I'm always doing this with him.

So much talking, not enough doing.

I don't get it.

He planted repetitive kisses on the corner of Simon's wet mouth, sighing between each one. "You," he moaned, "you're... I don't know. There's just something about you that I can't keep away from. I don't know how I lasted over twenty days..."

So much for not talking.

"...I think we'd better make up for the ground we lost."

Keeping the lust down was obviously quickly growing in a failed attempt, Haylen stirring all these strings of desire with Simon. Yet, that want to not be just this mindless physical connection was even more a need. But damn it was difficult to follow this etiquette when you have a very attractive male, dripping in warm water kissing and touching all of your weak spots.

No, no, no...that's not how this should go.
....oh god that feels good.
And isn't it normal at our age?
But it's never gonna go anywhere if we get back on that road.
..man why can't I have both..

"Haylen..." he breathed out half moan.

It was practically irresistible, Simon's gestures a mix of push and pull with the boy, returning the many kisses along the boy's lip corner, the thin skin of his lips molding to that little scarred area on the corner, his own hands communicating against his talking.

"We shouldn't...we've just...and...I mean you know..." he babbled between rough breaths.

How eloquent.

But as thing kept moving forward and dangerously too far, Simon just took a solid hold of each of Haylen's arms, separating them and looking him straight in his confused or surprised grey eyes, panting with lopsided blinking.

"Stop. I don't want this. Not tonight."

His grip loosened and the soft smooth skin was taken away from under his fingertips, along with the gentle scent of soap and shampoo when Haylen left him alone in the shower. Rinsing away the last of the suds, he sighed in disbelief that he'd manage to have enough will power to resist Haylen. But instead of being worried, he was a little happy, and more confident. If he could say no, he really did matter more than physically.

He was already out of the bathroom when Simon stood out, the tips of his hair kissing the shape of his neck, water dripping over him until it came to meet the floor in a small wet puddle. It wasn't long to dry himself out, walking out of the the bathroom, comfortable in his birth suit. He saw Haylen, recently dry himself struggling with a pair of boxers. Obviously he wasn't happy about the turn of event, but that was one thing Simon didn't feel bad about.

Smirking a little at how adorable he found Haylen's pang of childishness, he went to his own drawer, grabbing a pair of neatly folded black boxer briefs, slipping them on before walking over to Haylen's bed, now containing the mentioned boy.

"Oh no you're not!" he said, almost tauntingly.

The little smirk had grown into quite the grin, no matter what Haylen was saying and he grabbed the slender twig-like figure with both arms and tossed him over his shoulder, laughing.

"Oh stop struggling, you're sleeping with me tonight, end of the story."

The bed was quickly unfolded, revealing beige tainted clean sheets, perfect spot to drop in the thin boy. He might be muscular in this wired type way, but in comparison, he was pretty small...and light. It had been no difficulty for Sy to bring him around. Closing the head lamp, Simon slipped in under the covers besides Haylen, grabbing him and pulling him in a snuggly hug.

"I've been so sick of sleeping alone, so just, go to sleep you addicted guy. I know you can't get enough of me.." he deliberately mock-gloated "but tonight there'll be none of that. I'm too tired and I think I want a break from this physical thing we've been having."

He shifted a little on the soft mattress, closing his eyes, a smile on his lips as he could feel Haylen's warmth against him. It was so comfortable, too comfortable, even if he could sense how Haylen wasn't quite completely agreeable with this situation.

"And stop being such a grumpy ass. We don't have to do the all the way thing to have a nice night. Just enjoy it! Come on, I love you."

....
uh-oh.
That wasn't supposed to come out...
Do I really?
Uh-oh.

Haylen had been almost happily snuggled down beside Simon, ready to go to sleep, when the other boy said something that sent an unexpected fire rushing through his system. An internal disaster, wreaking havoc on his organs.

Come on, I love you.

The words bounced around in Haylen's skull, and for a short moment, he just sat in total awe. "Seriously?" he muttered, barely loud enough to even hear himself speak. he repeated the phrase one more time, playing it over in his head - I love you - and that was all it took to set off a trigger.

He promptly sat up, ripping out of Simon's tender hold. With fury pulsing through his veins, he climbed off of the mattress, climbing carelessly over Simon to get down. "Are you kidding me?" he shouted, his voice worn out from the painfully drawn-out day. "Are you friggin' kidding me?!"

Anger didn't even begin to cover what he was feeling. Tossing in a little bit of hurt could probably do some good, too. And maybe even regret. Regret for thinking that this kid would improve his life.

"Love me? You don't love me," he spat, shaking with rage. He violently kicked the closest small thing he could find - in this case, it was one of Simon's textbooks - and watched as it skidded across the floor, hitting the wall molding with a thud. "You're not even close to loving me."

To think that I was beginning to trust him... that I was beginning to open up to him...

Naturally it would turn out like this. Why would I think for one moment that things could end up alright?

Haylen stood in disbelief, his chest heaving and lips downturned. His hair hung in damp clumps over his face, and outrage burned in his steely eyes. "I honestly can't believe you," he said, almost laughing. "I thought... I thought that you were someone who I was honestly gonna get to know. I thought that you were the first person I'd have in my life who I could look to for support. Because you know what happened to the only other person who I could lean on in my life? Do you know what happened to him?"

No.

No.

Don't friggin' say it. I don't care how angry you are.

"He's in prison!" Haylen roared, clenching his jaw. "My dad was the one and only person in my life who used to love me, get it? And now he sleeps in a friggin' cell every night! So don't you even try to tell me that you love me, Simon! The only one who ever loved me was my dad, and you know what? I didn't love him back. Hell, I looked up to him, yeah, and I thought he was a good father. But did I love him? No! I couldn't bring myself to love someone who did the stuff that he did! I've never loved anyone, and that's not about to change just because of some stupid impulsive claim that you make!"

Calm down, shit, just calm down.

I'm gonna end up hurting him if I don't stop.

"And you know what, Sy?" Haylen's voice was hardly above a whisper, still trembling with wrath and misery. "You know what? It's not gonna change for you. So, yeah, you may want to hear me say it back. But guess what, baby. I'm never gonna say it back. Never."

With a shuddering sigh, Haylen sat on the edge of his bed, gripping at his bedcovers until his knuckles turned white. There was so much filtering through his mind right now. The day had honestly been a whirlwind - he'd gone from lonely to confessing some of his past to relieved to lustful to grumpy to content and now to this - this seething rage that couldn't even be described in a word.

He didn't even fully understand as to why such a stupid four-letter word got to him so much.

But it did, and it hurt.

"You're unbelievable," he exhaled, falling back until he hit the mattress. "Completely and totally unbelievable."

As much as Haylen longed to demand Simon never to speak to him again, he couldn't do it. So instead he laid in an enraged silence, almost having to remind himself to breathe. As morbid as it was, to Haylen, it was times like these when death almost seemed like the sweeter option. At least his mind would be at rest that way.

Never before at he winced that much. It's like he was trying to avoid every word that first were yelled out of Haylen's mouth. This wasn't how he had envisionned the evening to end. Not at all.

Say something, stop him!

He opened his mouth several times to interject Haylen's long angry monologue, but failed to manage to find anything to say, until finally , the news of his father made this fish stop gaping for air.

God...has anything ever gone right for him?
I could have helped if I wasn't such a screw up.

There was a little pause that allowed him to manage about three, barely audible syllables: "I didn't.." The sentence cut short by another outburst of anger. He knew he'd gone too far but he expected something more along the line of panic, but not this. And the last thing he said, really registered in his subconscient mind.

I didn't mean it, it's far too soon but...
Never?

The silence finally came, Haylen stiffly lying on his own mattress, another awkward gap stuck between them in a new record time.
Simon sat, unsure if he should join him, stay away or whatever else there was for a solution. The only for sure thing is, that he wasn't going to go with another three weeks of nearly ignoring one another.

"I'm sorry man, I didn't mean it."

Stupid double sided knife.
Now it sounds like he can't be loved again.
God!

Never?

"Well I do like you but the other thing is just, you know. It just came out becuase you were being kind of adorable and...."

Yes the adorable thing will make it all ok..

Never?

He let himself fall back, all this thick uncertainty and game of walking on egg shells quickly created a dent in the foundation of his patience. He brought both hands to his face and let out a very loud groan of frustration, before covering his entire face, trying to think of what to do next.

"Why, why of friggin WHY?" he said through his hands, removing them only after to let them rest on his bare chest.

"It's like this stupid game we're playing! Shit!" the foulness of his own language felt a little odd, but he was so irked by all of this. "Let's screw, toy, care, talk and screw again! And then all I can think about is your friggin face and wonder how the heck he's doing today. I've tried dating other guys but it just didn't do anything like that. What is it about you huh? Yeah, I know I said I thought of you as a good guy and stuff, and you are. You didn't deserve anything you've got and you do deserve a friend to care for you and man I do. But why do I have to like you huh? I mean there are other guys out there, so what's this thing."

Never...

There came that uncomfortable silence, where the only noise that stood out was the not so steady breathing of the guys. Even the air seemed stale. And that silence, the atmosphere of hopelessness, that extra failure to add to his already filled basket, was starting to kill Sy a little.

Never.
And why should I care?
About anyone?

But no matter how he tried to rationalize it, it just didn't work. What he wanted was to walk accross the room and nuzzle himself to Haylen, or vice versa, it wouldn't matter. But he knew he couldn't, feared it. Rejection in that sense wasn't something he could handle. He needed to matter, as himself... Deep down he knew that's why he liked him. Because he could just be himself, no front nothing. But now there was a game, for three stupid little words he'd clumsily said too early, before they even came to his own mind. Just, caught up in the moment.

It was hard enough to bring some tears to his jade eyes, threatning to fall down his cheek, but he fought them off, refusing to be this heartbroken little girl.

Never.

It was the drop he needed to bring his personal defense wall up, that solid front of fake attitude. He would be someone else, the public face. He couldn't trust him enough to just warmly open up anymore.

Under this façade, he sat, blinking away the wetness that had lodged itself in the lower eyelids, hiding all emotions from his body language. He'd become good at it, having grown for years into morphing himself in what other people expected of him. And this time what he thought right was to appear unaffected.

"Sorry, I guess I just overreacted. Look, I'm sorry about your dad." his voice verged on monotone, void of the real Simon, practically. "I should learn to think before I talk. Where I'm from that's just something being thrown around so I forgot that it might get to you. So just, don't worry, I didn't mean to offend you or anything. Just get some rest. Maybe tomorrow we can go see a movie or something, like two buddies, 'cause that's all we are. Don't worry I won't do anything strange anymore."

It almost sounded rehearsed with how politically correct his speech had become. And it would stay that way, at least he intended it to, slipping back under the covers and facing the wall, his back to Haylen. Under that stone cold face and newly rigid figure, a heart sank, pulled by what seemed like concentrated gravity.

He'll never love me.
Why should he?

There are some instances in life when you just feel like you're too tired out to even care any more.

Haylen was coming very close to having one of those.

As he listened to Simon, noting carefully when the boy's breath hitched - he's crying? Or at least close to it... - he tried to formulate a coherent response in his mind, trying to tear all angry and violent thoughts from his brain and replacing them with things to say.

By the time Simon was finished with apologizing, it didn't even sound like the Simon that Haylen knew. His voice was drained, empty, hollow. When Haylen caught a glance of the boy, he was taken aback by how hurt he looked. He was sitting, hunched over on his bed, his eyes dim and his mouth slack.

What am I supposed to say?

Seriously..?

"Look at me," Haylen ordered, sitting up, and waiting until Simon lifted his gaze to stare vacantly at him. "We're not gonna just forget about this tomorrow. You know it's gonna be like.. like... like when you're walking along with your friend, and all of a sudden you come across a dead pigeon on the sidewalk. You're gonna look at it really quickly, maybe share some sympathy over it, and then you're gonna walk away like nothing ever happened. But it's still gonna linger when you talk. You're still gonna be thinking of the dead creature you just saw and how much it upset you. Your conversation won't be as lively, and you'll drag your feet when you walk."

Nice metaphor, kid.

Maybe I should become the next Edgar Allan Poe.

Haylen frowned, cracking his knuckles and glaring at the gloomy-looking redhead. "Seriously, though. We can't just... go to sleep and be 'buddies' tomorrow. Because, tell me, do you genuinely think that 'buddies' is all we are? Do 'buddies' kiss in the shower? Do 'buddies' screw each other?"

Simon was silent.

"I didn't think so." With an exasperated sigh, Haylen scrutinized Simon's face, watching as the boy looked away in shame. He looked more upset than Haylen had ever seen him. A pang of... something... shot through Haylen's heart.

Guilt, maybe?

He shifted on his bed, dangling his legs over the edge. "Simon," he began, his eyes darting down to watch his feet swing back and forth. "I guess... I guess I got a little defensive or something. I mean.. I shouldn't have been that harsh."

Though I'm still upset.

That's not just gonna disappear.

Once the rage is running through my veins, it takes a while to sift out.

"It's just... even if you didn't mean to say it, it wasn't something I was ready to hear." Haylen was straining to handle the situation with more sensibility and less blind fury. Seeing Simon look so down somehow stirred something deep inside Haylen, and he was no longer able to act so coldly towards the boy.

If this were anyone else, I would've left by now.

I would've screamed at him some more and stormed out of the room.

But it's Simon.

Of course it's Simon.

God, why does everything change for him?

With a noisy breath, Haylen reclined back onto his mattress, trying to ignore how lonely and cold the sheets felt against his bare skin.

"I didn't mean to yell," he admitted, goosebumps rising on his skin. "That just.. isn't something I take lightly."

No shit.

Haylen wondered how Simon would react to his softer explanation. He tried to forget that Simon now knew about his father, or at least vaguely, and instead concentrated on the dark stain that marred the white ceiling above his bed. The last thing he wanted to do right now was to become infuriated again, and thinking about his forever-imprisoned father could easily make him do just so.
 

This was more difficult than he'd expect to be keeping strong when Haylen was trying to break in. Everything he said was also very true, regardless of the odd pick for a metaphor. It called to him a little, a request to pay attention which add him turned around to face Haylen as he spoke.

During everything he said, Simon remained completely motionless and hollow. His mouth had ran dry, clasping his pasty lips tightly shut, though his facial expression was simply blank. There was no life there. He was just a puppet made for others.

I'll eventually have to stop fighting and just accept it.

But he knew he could never stop fighting. Deep down the second something would occur in which he could be of assistance, anything that would make him be useful to somebody, he'd throw himself out there. Outside, he didn't care about the public face, he didn'T care about being selfless, but that couldn't be permanent, he just wanted that inner circle that would accept him as he is: clumsy, naive, affectionnate and surely needy.

He'd thought Haylen might have been able to fill those shoes, but even with the current explanation or apology, not really sure how to categorize it, he couldn't truly believe it anymore.

"I didn't mean to yell. That just.. isn't something I take lightly."

"I know...m'sorry." he finally spoke up.

He breathed to himself, his little wall crumbling a little. The only that could keep him together was someone to hold onto. It didn't matter if the trust and complicity between them was different, he just wanted to be there in his arms.

It'd be easier if he'd just kept silent and hated me.
Then I could have numbed out.
Stopped generally caring. If I die a little, I hurt a little less.

"Haylen?"

He saw the familiar silvery eyes glint in his direction, obviously listening the oncoming question.

"Mind..mind if I join you, for tonight? I don't want to sleep alone. I told you before, I'm kind of sick of it."

It seemed a little relusctant at first, but Haylen nodded and lifted the covers a little for Simon to join in. There was no hesitation there, heck, he almost ran from his bed to Haylen's, tucking himself under the blankets, shelters from the cold air in the room.

This time, he was the one snuggling to Haylen, his head nestled in Haylen's shoulder nouk, one arm and one leg covering the body of the guy next to him. It was a bit reassuring, to be held that way, hugging greedily at the other boy. And in no time, he deeply fell in a much required deep slumber.