Title: Confrontation

Summary: After the "kisses" between them, Matt confronts Joe. Awkwardness ensures as well as fluff.

Pairing(s): Moe (Matt/Joe)…sorta.

Genre(s): Romance/Humor

Rating: T

Disclaimer: Matt belongs to AkatsukiFreak31 as well as the concept of Total Drama: Abandoned, but Joe belongs to me. All other mentioned characters belong to their creators.

Author's Note: After seeing chapter 7 of Total Drama: Abandoned by AkatsukiFreak31, I felt the urge to write the epicness that is Moe (oh gosh, that's the nickname of my cousin…awkward.) Yup, I'm a fan of the pairing, sue me. This was going to be put off for a while, but when I saw a chibi drawing of the two teens by ninaninagrr on Deviantart this could not wait any longer.

Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this. If you don't like the concept of slash (boy/boy), then feel free to leave. However, this will touch on Joe's past as to why he's the way he is, so feel free to read it for that.

Joe couldn't believe what the hell happened in the span of a few hours. What he expected to be a simple act of "making friends" along with a little of mindless flirting turned into a homo fest. His lips – his lips – made contact with Matt. A freaking guy! Not only once, but two times! Two times too many.

"Goddamn him," he growls through the foamy mess around his lips. Currently he was brushing his teeth to try to wash away the sensation he felt from the "kisses" as it was floating around now. The first time from Matt toppling on him on the bed and the second caused by…what was the bitch's name? Oh yeah, Jesse. The stupid bitch had made him be the one to crash into Matt. The first time, he could forget since it was accidental on the bastard's part, but the second time made him feel as if he were committing the act in some way (which he didn't). It was too much and he took off.

Joe's hand wipes the muddle of toothpaste from his face, and then washes it in the bathroom's sink. The water's coloring was somewhat yellow, which caused his stomach to churn at the thought of where it came from, but that didn't leave a lasting impact on his mind as much as it should have. All that he could think of was the kiss. The stupid kiss! If it weren't for the bastard's loose footing they wouldn't have rumors of being boyfriends. Ugh, even thinking of that made him physically ill. "Damn him to hell," Joe hissed. He cups his hand to allow a puddle form in his palm, sucks in the water, swished it around in his mouth, and spits in the sink.

Yeah, he was letting the water run the whole time on full blast, but he just did not care. So what if the water was being wasted? Not his problem.

The teen squeezes another chunk of the cinnamon-flavored toothpast on the toothbrush. Instead of shoving the brush back into his mouth, he proceeds to allow the bristles to swipe across his bottom lip, the burn sensation coating it. After ten seconds he continues with his upper lip.

"This shit burns," he mumbled as he wiped his lips with the base of his knuckles. After washing it away as well as his toothbrush, he dries his hands by rubbing them against his pants and used a sleeve to do the same with his face.

Joe exits the bathroom and enters the room he was meant to share with King Kong (Kris) and Dr. Douchebag (Vincent). He let's out a sigh of relief upon seeing they were nowhere in sight. He jumps into his bed, digging his face into his pillow. Anger builds inside him and he screams into his pillow just in case these rooms weren't sound-proof. Last thing he needed was for his façade to be blown.

"Fuck this show! Fuck Matt! Fuck everyone! When I win this show, I'm charging that fairy for sexual harassment!" He plops his shin upwards, his sky blue eyes blazing. "I swear it's like they're trying to get him to be set up with me."

He was humiliated (jeez, isn't that the purpose of this show, he thought.) He could never show up with the same reputation as before. Granted, Joe didn't have very many friends to begin with, and the ones who did show some signs of companionship did usually treated him like shit. He didn't care.

What matters the most to him was his mother.

Joe is positively sure Chris or Ethan broadcasted both for the world to see. He can almost picture her reaction: first, appearing detached as usual, second, leave the room silently and third, calmly drive to church to pray for her son to not develop the "sickness". She was always a calculated person; most people would call her cold or emotionless, and Joe is one to agree reluctantly. He doesn't remember a time when she showed her feelings unless she was extremely upset (never when she was joyful). The most recent time he could remember was when he was five years old, the first experience he had ever saw her show her homophobia.

She had just picked him up from daycare and they were in a Starbucks or some other coffee shop he can't recall. As she was in line for a cappuccino, he sat on one of the sofas, arms folded as his chest was huffed out; he had left his small Superman action figure at the daycare and his mother refused to drive back to get it. In his silent tantrum he stared at the floor, not bothering to look up to any noise until he heard two laughing voices enter the shop. Joe looked up to see two men – one with an arm wrapped around the other's waist, with the man being held whispering into the other's ear. He didn't look at them with the resentment he has now, and probably would never hate gays if it weren't for his mother.

The men's laugher died down just as Joe saw his mother turned around, a cup in hand. The scene looked like it was frozen in time.

"Delia…." The man on the left whispered.

They all just stared at each other in silence until she briskly saunters off, yanked Joe by his arm roughly, and left the shop without looking back.

"Owww!" Joe howled with pain. Her long fingernails dug into his arms. Instinctively, the boy tries to escape, but the pressure doesn't budge. Her grip loosened when they reached the car and she let him go. The five-year-old rubs his throbbing arm, now having red marks where her hand was. "Who were they?" he mumbled, tears stinging in his eyes but refused to cry. He's been taught crying was useless.

"It was just an old boyfriend and his partner. An old boyfriend of four years who used your mom to hide his sickness."

She yanks the door open and he crawls into the backseat. He snaps on his seatbelt, watching his mother slam his door shut before doing the same with the driver's seat.

Joe's quiet as he rubbed the spot where she yanked and dragged him. A purplish bruise began to form. This wasn't the first time she left bruises on him….

When she starts the car, he asked softly, "Sickness? Did he have the flu?"

"No, Joe. I'll tell you what he had when we get home. Mommy has to clear her head."

"But Dad said he'll take me to see the baseball game to–"

"No Joe," she snaps, causing him to cringe, "no game today. I might as well teach you the wrongness of what you saw. You need to know about their kind."

Joe wasn't sure if his mother was homophobic because of her ex-boyfriend using her as a cover-up, or she was taught to hate them like he was. That didn't matter though; it was hammered into his brain, like the marks she planted on his skin.

He sighed quite pitifully. Yes, his mother was in a way abusive. She didn't beat him down like the stereotypical version, but there were times when she slapped him too hard, or dragged him long enough to leave scrapes that bled. There was also emotional abuse where she put him down, such as the first time he expressed his dream to be an actor and she said:

"An actor? What a pathetic dream! At least your father chose a practical occupation, even if he's a deadbeat. You have a better chance of becoming the president than being an actor."

Despite the pain the woman put him through, he still loved her, hoping that one day she would praise him, or say "I love you" with actual affection. That's why he followed every single one of her views. He thought, maybe one day she'll realize what a strapping young man she created and would be proud of him. But acting is his passion. Joe wanted to show her that he could make it in the movie industry. That's why he joined this stupid fucking show in the first place! Upon winning the money and gaining a name, there will be directors who want to hire him.

"She's going to flip when she sees me and Matt," he whispered. This time, there was no trace of loathsome or malice in his tone; it was genuine dread.

What sucked the most was that inside, he somewhat liked the sensation. Whilst girl's lips were soft, his were rough, even if it they weren't intentional kisses. It was warm, firm, and – oh god, why was he thinking of it? They were accidents!

What is wrong with me?

Joe finds the room suddenly grows hot. He plops his body up to peel away the first three buttons of his shirt to allow his body to cool off. The teen was so intent in his thoughts that his mind barely registered the soft knocking on the door. "Uhh, Joe, you in here?"

He instantly sits up. It was Matt's voice. "Y-yeah?" Once the word left, Joe knew it was his regular tone, not the Southern accent his persona used. He coughs loudly. "Yah?" Joe tries again, this time much more accurate.

What's he doing here? For a gay make out session?

"Can I come in?"

"Sure, it's unlocked," he piped up, repositioning himself so he was sitting on the edge of the old, worn down mattress. Joe self-consciously adjusts the button on his plaid shirt, but realizes what he's doing and stops. Why did he care if he looked rugged in front of Matt?

Matt opens the door and enters the room. "Hey," he began rather meekly. He turns around to shut the door, and when he does he leaned against the door with his back. His eyes travel to Joe, and he found the first thing he was intent of looking at were his lips. They were a dark shade of red and puffy. A light pink blush covered his cheek when he found that Joe's lips were the first thing he saw.

It was because we kinda kissed! He argued internally.



"Why are ya here Matt?" Joe asked, his tone suggesting annoyance.

"Oh! Umm, I thought we should talk about what… happened."

"All righty, but there ain't no thing to talk about. Both times were accidents," Joe puts emphasis on the last word. "And why are ya holding that door like ya just saw a ghost?"

"I know that," Matt rolled his eyes, but became serious. "But I think that I should talk still."

"Didn't answer ma question."

Matt flushed and stepped away from the door. "I guess I'm just nervous, okay? I've never kissed a guy before…. Can I sit?"

"Be ma guest."

He nodded and sat on the bed next to Joe's. Matt crossed his legs Indian style on Vincent's self-proclaimed bed. The teen looks up at Joe again, quietly gulping when he noticed part of his chest was revealed. Sweat droplets rolled down his pale neck and disappeared behind the v-line of the plaid shirt.

"Eyes up here, buckaroo." Joe hissed. Matt was too embarrassed to notice the spite in his voice.

"S-sorry." He coughs to try to regain his composure. "It's just hot in here. But, umm, I just wanted to say I'm not gay. I'm as straight as an arrow."

"Mhmm," the cowboy drawled. "How can I be sure ya ain't tryin' to get me ta like ya? It would seem coincident that ya'd ask Jesse to push me into ya. After all, it was ya that started this mess."

"The same could be said for you," Matt countered. "You probably got me to trip into you when we were in my sister's room, and the second time? You were going to kiss me, but then asked Jesse to push you in case you chickened out."

"Whatever, I ain't a que-I mean, I don't like boys like that."

Matt sighed and said, "Okay, I just wanted to establish that. What's screwed up is that yaoi fangirls are probably having nosebleeds as we speak."

"Say wha?" Joe's brows furrow together, confused. Matt found it rather cute. "I'm afraid ah don't follow yer words."

"Yaoi fangirls… y'know, girls who love gay guys and fantasize about them… you don't have internet where you live, huh?"

Joe grew angry, for he was now deep in his character. Besides, he was pissed off at the way Matt was staring at him and needed a way to let out his anger. He stood up and towered above Matt until the boy was lying on his back. "Of course ah has internet! Ah ain't a hillbilly livin' in the twentieth century!"

"Sorry!" Matt held his hand in defense. "I didn't mean…" Matt wanted to face-palm upon realizing he was touching Joe's chest. Both teens froze in place, Matt in shock and slight fear. Joe… in confusion. Matt's hands were rough, warm, and firm. They felt… good.

Suddenly, the door swings open and Vincent walks in the room. Joe looks forwards and Matt twists his body to see who it was.

"Oh god - look, you may be boyfriends and all, but if you're gonna make out and do other boyfriend stuff, at least don't do it on my bed."

"We're not boyfriends!" They yelled in unison.

"Suuure," Vincent said before shutting the door and walking away.

Matt's Confessional: Why does this stuff keep happening to me? Is it fate telling me we're meant to be together? Ugh, my life sucks!