Disclaimer: Oh, if I owned this, I would be kicked off Disney in a matter of seconds.

Authors note: Ok, this is slash. I've already pointed this out but might as well do it again, because flamers have a hard time noticing my warning when they leave me reviews telling me how "Disgusting" I am. I just wanted to say that before I get a "How dare you" review, I want to say how dare you leave a useless flame on my story. Grow up. Fanfiction is for expression and I am only expressing myself. If you do not approve then that's something you'll have to deal with as you get older but I really don't want to hear about it. Yes, I realize this is Disney but in all truth I could really care less. Read my writing and perhaps you'll find, that while the content is not Disney-approved, the writing may be quite enjoyable. Express your opinion to someone who gives a damn, because I know I don't. Most of us live in America and I can and will write what I want. If you do leave a review, don't chicken out and leave it anonymously, and make it creative and not your standard "This is gross" That's just even more pathetic. Also, after reading some of the fics on this fandom, I may write what you deem "disgusting and wrong" but I find the writing on some of these fics to be "Appalling and English teacher vomit worthy." Don't criticize me, criticize your own work and come back when you can put together a piece of work the doesn't resemble a four year olds. Cheers and much love!


P.S. I'm really quite nice, I promise.

Sweat and Little Relief

Jackson Stewart trudged in through the doors of his house in a huff. The cool air of the air conditioning hit his face in a wave of relief and he absentmindedly reached up with one arm to wipe away the sweat that threatened to fall into his eyes. Letting out a long breath of exhaustion, he made his way over to the all-too-familiar couch that sat empty in the middle of the living room and flopped down with a contented sigh.

Work had been, needless to say, quite hectic, what with it being spring break, and tourists pouring in like the plague and Jackson was intrigued by the idea of sitting on that couch for the rest of the afternoon with nothing to do other than decide what to watch next.

He flipped through the channels of the television with mild interest and great elation from the sheer fact that he finally had the chance to be "bored", which was a privilege that had been denied to him for the past few weeks.

He could feel his eyelids begin to close shut, and he welcomed the thought of a nap without a moments hesitation. However, his hopes were quickly dashed and he cringed when he heard a familiar voice ring clear and unwelcome in his ears. .

"……Jesus Oliver, don't you ever learn?" Catching the end of the conversation that was being shared between his younger sister and one of her best friends, Jackson fiend sleep in hopes that she would leave him alone.

No such luck.

He felt the pillow hit his face and jumped slightly, startled and yet completely unsurprised that his sister had no problem waking him.

"Politeness was never your thing was it, Miley?"

He watched through heavy eyes as she gave him a mock-smug look and answered in a knowing voice. "Please, I'm Hannah Montana, it's in the contract that I have to be polite to people."

"You're not polite to me."

"You're not people."

"Love you too, sis." He said, rolling his eyes and throwing the intruding pillow back in her own face. He turned to the dark-haired boy sitting opposite of Miley on the arm of the couch and gave him a nod of the head, noticing the boy far more than he let on.

"You couldn't of just let me sleep, Miley?" He tried to keep the annoyance out his voice and he tried even harder to not let his eyes stray to the only other occupant in the room besides his sister.

"Eh, sleep on your own time, Jackson." She teased and he didn't hesitate to point out, "This is my own time. I'm off work."

"You've been working a lot lately, haven't you Jackson?" Jackson turned to the boy who had been silent up until that point and he cursed himself as he felt his throat constrict.

"Yeah, spring break." He replied shortly, his voice coming out strained and nervous.

Miley didn't seem to notice and smacked him playfully on the side of the head.

"Well, we'll be back in a couple, Jackson." She told him resolutely, standing up and straightening her recently wrinkled clothing.

"Where you goin'?'

"Beach." She answered shortly, before turning on heel and beckoning Oliver to follow her out. He watched the two retreating fifteen year olds, and let out a huff of breath as they closed the door behind them.

He smacked the side of his head in frustration and let out a harsh curse under his breath.

He found this particular reaction happening a lot when he was around Oliver. Clouded senses, incoherent thoughts, the works.

Jackson had known about his sexuality for a couple of years now and after too long of denial and hatred towards his preferences he had finally grown to accept the reality that boys seemed to be more appealing then girls.

He found it incredibly ironic that when he was younger, he had been like any hormone driven teenager, after anything with a nice ass and dim-witted personality to match. But as much as the ideal of women used to appeal to him when he was younger, on the rare occasion that he actuality had the opportunity to be with one, he found himself disinterested and sick to his stomach.

No one truly knew of Jackson's homosexuality because he deemed that the right moment would come when he could tell his friends and family, and the right moment had never really reared its head at Jackson.

Or so he told himself.

In all truth he was terrified. Terrified at the prospect of humility. Terrified of the idea of hurting his family. Terrified of just fucking every prospect of telling the truth and blowing this cover that he had built securely around himself.

It used to be easy to hide it, because while he found boys to be attractive, he never really had had a set crush on one of them.

Then there was Oliver.

He used to find the younger boy to be somewhat annoying but as the years had passed and features had become more defined, and beliefs held as a child where now modified and rediscovered, annoyance was anything he felt towards the boy anymore.

It was hard to keep himself from staring whenever Miley would bring him over for a school project or what have you, so he subjected himself to just ignoring the boy completely. Feigning disinterest and possibly distaste, so the boy wouldn't discover his faltering demeanor and uncontrollable infatuation.

As time wore on, this masquerade became harder.

At the mere site of the dark haired boy, Jackson's breath would hitch and his heart would speed up.

He occasionally let his eyes linger on Oliver when he thought no one was watching, and he found himself mesmerized by the somewhat pointed features and lopsided grin that the boy would present to the rest of the world when a witty joke was told or an immature gesture was presented to him.

Oliver was a distraction in his busy world.

A distraction that would only prove to be trouble in the long run.

But a distraction nonetheless.