He doesn't know why he even bothered coming to this dance. He just doesn't see the point to it. Sure, he came because his best friend asked him to, but they're not doing much at the moment. All they're doing is sipping their punch, and looking at people dance to music that's louder than necessary.
They've been sitting at the table for a long half hour, enduring the awkward atmosphere.
The taller of the two doesn't want to be here. He wants to go home, and do something that's actually productive like completing an history project that's due next week.
No, it's not so much that he wants to be more productive. He just wants this awkward tension to end.
He wants to say something, but he can't think of anything to say. It's been like this for a while whenever he's around his best friend. It's strange. This feeling of selfconsciousness. This feeling of wanting to be closer than ever. To ask his best friend to dance in front of all these people and change everything.
It's too daunting to even consider doing. So he settles for imagining.
Besides, he doesn't know if his best friend feels the same way. He doesn't want to ruin their friendship. He wants to keep him in his life because he's saved him in so many ways. Being with him like this is enough for now.
That is what he thinks until a girl asks his best friend to dance. This girl is his best friend's childhood friend. Someone that has really grown to like-like him in a way that's acceptable. He's not sure if his best friend has noticed this attraction, but it's unmistakable.
His heart sinks when his best friend gets up to dance with her, his face red with what he assumes to be flattery. Eagerly, she takes his hand, leading him to the dance floor. There's a slow song on. A romantic one at that.
Her pink dress flows as they sway with the music, and they look so happy, so natural together.
After the dance, she looks up at him, and tells him something. Slowly, he pulls apart from her, and runs a hand through his black hair. She probably confessed her feelings for him, and he's probably confessing his feelings for her in return.
He doesn't want to be here anymore, but something keeps him there, an invisible ball and chain. A need to know the truth. To confirm the truth. If he starts going out with her, he'll be happy for his best friend because that's all he wants for his best friend.
He wants him to be as happy as he makes him.
"What was that about?" He asks when his best friend returns to the table.
He's still blushing. "Well…um…Roll-chan told me that she likes me…"
He knew it. His frown deepens.
When he doesn't continue, he says. "And?"
"…At first, I didn't know what to tell her. We've been friends for a long time, and I've never thought of her as anything more than that."
That loosens him up a fraction. "Meaning?"
He sighs, slumping in his seat. "I felt real bad about it, but I turned her down."
His eyes widen. "What? But I thought…" He stops himself from spilling his thoughts.
"Hm?" Green eyes bore curiously into his, and he turns away.
"Nothing. Never mind." He says, quickly, shooting out of his seat to go to the restroom.
He splashes some water onto his face, wanting these feelings to go away. He just wants everything to go back to normal. He has to go back to normal. Otherwise, his friendship will be compromised.
And he can't afford to lose him.
He knows that his best friend is expecting him to return, but he just can't find it in himself to do that. So he goes outside and sits on the stoop in front of the school, ignoring the coolness brought on by the night. Giving a deep exhale, he peers up at the starry sky, feeling very small.
Although he wants to be alone, he feels bad for leaving his best friend in there by himself, especially since he's the one that invited him to the dance in the first place.
His best friend invited him. It's not like he invited Roll or anything. Otherwise, they would've arrived at the dance together, arm-in-arm. Then an image of them arm-in-arm flashes into his mind, and it makes him smile.
He wants that. At least, he wants to let his best friend know what he's feeling, to hold him like he's been longing to for the longest time. It's frightening, almost like jumping into a fiery pit. But he has to do this. He wants to be able to work this feeling out with him, whether it's accepted or not, and continue to be around him without wanting to run away, and hide.
So he strengthens his resolve, and heads back inside.
He's so nervous. His blood is pumping so fast. He's never been this aware of anything before - the halls containing many lockers, the floor, the ceiling, and most of all, his own body, his own existence.
He reaches the entrance to the gym where the dance is being held, and his breath hitches once he catches sight of his best friend. His black hair is in it's natural state, wild yet tame enough to be appreciated. The way he's seated - his posture impeccable, his hands folded on his lap. He truly looks sophisticated in that suit and green tie that matches his eyes.
He's the one who changed his life, who took his hand and led him out of the darkness and into the light. Who made him smile. Who made him laugh. Who made him happier than he's ever been in his seventeen years of living.
He knows how pivoting this moment is, and it's frightening, and he almost backs out of it. He almost calls it a day, and leaves his best friend by himself.
It'd be easier that way, but the results of backing out now would be devastating, and he doesn't want that.
So he steps inside, slowly approaching his table, his heartbeat thrice as fast as his footsteps. This is bigger than anything he's ever faced before.
Time itself slows down once he comes close to him. Green eyes that were cloudy a moment ago turn joyous when he peers up at him. In the pit of his stomach, he feels a blossoming warmth that makes him smile.
"Rock," he starts, his mouth suddenly dry. He swallows and continues. "Would you…do me the pleasure of dancing with me?"
For a second, he thinks that Rock is going to say no, to turn him down, and call him crazy for asking another guy to dance.
But then, Rock takes him by surprise when his face lights up like the sun rising in the sky. "Yes," he says, getting up, and taking him by the hand.
Once again, Rock has managed to surprise him, being so bold as to lead him to the dance floor, and holding his hands out, prepared to be led through a waltz. Grinning, he takes Rock by the waist with one hand, and clutches the outstretched hand with the other. He feels their peers staring at them, hearing their prejudicial thoughts. But he doesn't care. All he cares about is the boy before him, the one he's wanted to hold like this for so long.
"Blues?" Rock asks, almost shyly, as they begin to sway to the music.
"…The truth is," he begins, hesitantly, quickly licking his lips. "There is actually someone that I like."
Blues' stomach drops. He should've suspected this. Rock only agreed to dance with him because he's that nice. It's not because he feels the same way. There are obviously other girls in this school other than Roll that Rock associates with, like Medi, for instance. He probably likes her.
His grip on Rock loosens.
"Who is it?" He asks.
Rock laughs. "I'll give you a hint. I've known this person for quite a while."
"Yeah, and they're really nice. They're kinda quiet, and mysterious, but I like that about them."
That eliminates Medi from the running then because that girl is anything but quiet.
"They is actually a he."
Blues blinks. Well. He certainly wasn't expecting that. "Really?"
Rock nods, and closes the gap between them a tad bit. "Really. He's my best friend."
Time seems to stop in that moment, and Blues can hardly breathe as he stops moving. "Do-do you mean…?" He trails off, not knowing how to word the question, too overwhelmed.
Somehow, some way, Rock knows what he's talking about. He nods his head. "He's you." That's when the confidence disappears, and Rock is looking anywhere but at him, as if he's suspecting to be turned down.
Blues envelops Rock in his arms, burying his face in his shoulder, trying to get a hold of the situation, and what just happened. Rock confessed to him. He's the one that Rock likes. He's so happy that he wants to cry, but he dare not do that here.
Rock returns his embrace, holding him just as tightly. "Blues," he murmurs, causing a shiver to go down Blues' spine.
That's when he realizes that all of this is real, and he allows a few tears to slip down his face. "I've always liked you." He whispers.
"Me too," Rock replies.
They spend the rest of their time dancing, too wrapped up in themselves to care about anyone around them.
At the end of the night, Rock's parents drive Blues home. Rock offers to walk him to the door. They exit the car, walking side-by-side in a comfortable silence. Their newfound relationship is all still fresh to Blues' mind, but it feels natural, like they've been together forever.
"Thank you for coming, Blues." Rock says with a bright smile. "I had so much fun with you."
"Likewise." Blues replies, grabbing his hands, and staring down into his green eyes.
For a long moment, they're lost in each other's eyes, and Blues feels himself fall that much more. Before he can think, he's leaning down, kissing Rock's lips, and then he's being kissed back. After a short moment, they pull apart, and it's so tempting to kiss those lips again.
"Good night," Rock says, softly.
"Good night," Blues replies.
With one last kiss, Rock leaves him on the porch, a hand to his smiling lips.
He's so glad that he went to that dance.