Author: CrazedHumor

Title: Getting Attached

Rated: M (swearing and more to come)

Summary: (AU sorta) I've moved around my entire life and in doing so, I learned to not get attached to anyone or anything. There was only one exception. Niff.

A/N: YEAH! CHAPTER TWO! Holy shit, it's been how many months? :| Enjoy, my lovelies. Thank you, Hollybollywolly, for getting on my ass and giving me motivation (kinda... for a while...love you) and also Bekka who wouldn't stop mentioning it.:P

Chapter Two: Forgetting and Remembering

(Nick's POV)

I can't really tell you what I was feeling in that moment. It's kind of hard to pinpoint it what with everything that was going through my head. I don't remember any of it making sense, my thoughts, I mean. Everything was kind of jumbled because I couldn't string one word to another. I just remember not being able to let go. My fingers were clutching at his shirt as though I was back in my old driveway in Florida. It felt like I was that small child again, clinging to the memory of the feeling of my fingers twisted in my best friend's hug. It hurt once again, but for a whole other reason. The pain that had once been left behind, every time I remembered letting go, every time I shut my computer screen, every time I hung up the phone, was now surrounded and overcome with an overwhelming amount of excitement and relief. My heart was beating its way out of my chest and I couldn't help but grin until my cheeks became sore at the insanity if it all.

My phone had gone off, I could feel it vibrating in my pocket, but at the time I didn't think much about it. I was too far in a daze. I had just been dropped off at Dalton, not a few hours before, ready start everything over and here was Jeff...a lot taller than I remembered him and so far deep in my past and stuck life that I was choking as I tried to breathe through his shoulder, unable to let go.

I had forgotten where I was until Jeff started laughing in my ear. "N-nicky." He wiggled out of my arms and rubbed a spot on his thigh.

I pulled back and stared at him for a moment before I realized that he had felt my phone too. I pulled it out and flipped it open quick only to see the words "Have a good year," from my father. I had met eyes with him and smirked a little. "All of you were in on this...weren't you?"

He didn't say anything, instead a hand came up behind his head and he kind of scratched at the patch of skin between his hairline and shirt with a laugh. He wasn't looking at me, but I could tell he was embarrassed. His cheeks were tinted and it seemed like he couldn't stop grinning. Something we had in common at the moment.

For a while I just stood there looking at him. He was different from what I had gotten from photos and videos and Internet chats. He was a lot taller than me and though his arms were smaller, you could tell what was there was pure muscle, which was weird seeing as how every time I saw him he had been snacking on everything from Red Vines to mint chocolates, smiling and laughing around the objects in his mouth. I couldn't help but think that it had to be because of dance that he had gotten so strong. It was one of his passions, I knew. I could almost see it as my vision faded from one image to the other, one of the young apprehensive Jeff I had met those many years ago to the now outgoing and positive guy I had become so attached to. Both were still Jeff.

After what seemed like an eternity, I finally started laughing and threw my phone onto one of the desks. "This one's mine... roomie." I grinned in his direction and ran a hand through my hair.

We were freshmen in high school. We had barely established our lives, not yet grown into ourselves and somehow in a matter of moments... we found it. It was easy. We continued to talk all through unpacking, as though we hadn't spent five years talking over the Internet, thousands of miles apart. I found myself, however, glancing at him every now and then. I didn't pay much attention to it. I had spent four years of my life away from my best friend and my mind was still trying to wrap around the aspect of any form of Jeff physically with me. It was both surreal and... comforting. For years I remembered wondering if I'd ever be in the same room as him, ever be able to hit his shoulder with my fist, or give him a pat on the back for praise... or hug him as tightly as I remembered I had just before he had pulled out of my driveway all that time ago.

It turned out that Jeff had found a way to convinced his mother to allow him to come to Dalton too. He didn't specify the exact reason, but just that he told her the truth and he wanted to see me again. I always liked his mother. She was a kind woman and the time that I had spent with her she had been nothing but nice, though that still left me a little perplexed. I didn't understand how a mother could send her only son off thousands of miles away simply because he wanted to.

I figured I'd have to ask her some time.

We didn't sleep that night. Instead, we unpacked about half of our boxes, eventually forgetting them to sit on our beds and talk about everything we'd already talked about over the years. It seemed different. Everything we'd said had already been uttered over our computers and phone, but it was new. Saying it face to face was nothing like it had been thousands of miles apart. We continued to talk about the most random things, eventually falling asleep early that next morning, though I wouldn't be able to tell you who fell asleep first.

I remember waking up in a slight panic. It may have sounded exaggerated or completely made up, but I had thought I had dreamed all of it. I had spent so many times dreaming of the exact thing, spending physical time with my best friend only to wake up in my home across the country that I wouldn't have been surprised that I had done the same thing, coming up with the story to appease the distance I had put farther between us in the real world.

Everything had slipped back into something it use to be, though it had never actually occurred. Jeff had lived with me for four months. It was a stitch in time, something that had affected me like nothing else and somehow we had gone right back to picking it up where we left off, though we were older. Somewhat wiser. So many events had happened and yet we had gone through them together. I wasn't sure how, but the adjustments, the talking to understand boundaries, everything that normally took place when moving in with someone, roommate or otherwise, didn't take place with us. We just... slipped into something that seemed to happened naturally.

As other kids arrived, I didn't realize it at the time, but we stayed close to each other. Every motion I made, Jeff had a reaction to and vice versa. It was like we were mirroring each other, every action for a reaction, scared that if we moved inches away, we'd disappear again and I'd turn around to find him a pigment of my imagination. As lunch had approached, he had both gotten up without word and exited our room, making our way to the canteen to retrieve food. There were other guys that found us, sitting down to join in on our conversation. It didn't bother me when I noticed that they were watching us. Eventually they asked. They knew we knew each other long before he attended Dalton and for a while we told them the full story, though not in full detail.

It was funny watching their reactions and for some of them, they couldn't understand how we had stayed in touch so easily. Jeff and I just shrugged it off, not exactly knowing what to say other than we just did.

It was easy to find our place in school. Most of the time Jeff and I spent our classes casting looks and sharing jokes with each other as the teacher's backs were turned. We slipped into a routine where we'd go to class, socialize with other friends, and then come back to our room, finishing our homework late at night after a long day of owning each other over the newest Medal of Honor game. A lot of the time I found myself comforted by Jeff. There was this nagging sensation in the back of my mind that reminded me that my suitcase was just under my bed and my logic would forget that I wasn't going anywhere. I was going to be in the same bed the next morning and the morning after and it just didn't compute for the longest time. Growing up on the road was life for me and adjusting to staying in one place, being able to get attached to people, other than Jeff, had been so unfathomable. Jeff did his best to get me to open up even if he wasn't the best at it either. It wasn't so much that we weren't social. We were. We talked and joked and hung out with a lot of the guys that surrounded us in class and back in the dorms, but there was a boundary that I didn't overstep for a long time that separated acquaintances from friends.

The first time Jeff asked to sleep in the same bed as me, I was hesitant.

We were freshman in high school and thought it wasn't what you'd call "normal" high school, there was still a manner to keep. I knew that others didn't do it, not unless there was something behind the action, but I couldn't help but have this voice at the back of my mind telling me this wasn't just some guy. This was Jeff. My best friend that I finally had back in my life and... I knew why he asked. It was only a few days into living at Dalton. The overwhelming feelings still fresh in our minds, we had still been seeking each other's attention constantly, as a reassurance that the other was still there. And a part of me wanted to just take a moment to relive how things use to be before he moved away. Two small children lying in bed and in silence, waiting for morning to come with no little worries. Even if we were far from it.

I nodded my head in the darkness in our room, hoping that he saw the gesture and he did. He shook the covers off him and crawled into mine and I shifted over to make room. I stayed on my side, eyes tracing his features in the dark and he the same. It wasn't until much later when I realized how intimate the position was. At the time all I could think about was the fact that I wasn't falling asleep to the face on a computer screen. That if I were to reach my fingers out to to touch his cheek, I'd come into contact with skin, not plastic.

It became our nightly routine, almost to the point where his bed would go unused for days on end. A few times we had been walked in on, Jeff's body laying close to mine and we were teased about it, some asking whether we were "together" or not. I'd laugh it off and shake my head, making a joke of it.

It was easier to make fun of it and have them laugh than it was to try and explain my need to keep him close.

Because, honestly, I didn't fully understand that myself.

We tried out for the Warblers right away, almost ganging up on the uptight council with our laid back mannerisms. We knew there was a policy. We had watched a few performances previously. Their foot work was relaxed and uncomplicated. They worked in unison, but Jeff and I were such an opposite of that. Growing up with the restrictions we had, we had become everything that the Warblers weren't, it seemed. When we auditioned, against policy, we did a duet. We created a choreography that showed off Jeff's talent and kept to an upbeat song that we both enjoyed singing. We ended the song with wide smiles on our faces, a high five between us in congratulations and were greeted with blank stares from the members in charge.

"We'll just, ah, wait outside."

I laughed at Jeff's expression, somehow pleased with himself and the impression we made with everyone. We really didn't think we were going to make it and as much as that brought us down, our love for singing and dancing aside, we were in the thrill of the moment. It turned out we worked well together. Not only on stage, but just in general. There was something about us, that everyone seemed to notice. You couldn't have a Nick without Jeff.

When we were accepted into the Warblers, we were immediately taken under some of the upperclassmen's wings. Two who weren't as uptight or strict as the others. They were the ones that pulled us in, a Fred and George for the group it seemed, and we were welcomed openly. It seemed like they enjoyed our enthusiasm and determination to work together that got us in.

As time went on, we got more and more attached to the group of guys. It became more apparent that they weren't only a group of friends, but brothers. Though there were differences in the group, as was expected, there was a foundation that wasn't messed with. Once a Warbler, Always a Warbler. As long as you kept your loyalty and best interest for the group to heart, you were always loved and welcomed and looked out for in return. There were a few times right away when we banned together. Though we had already spent a few months together, we still hardly knew what to do when one of our council member's father died.

When I heard the news, I instantly stiffened. We were in the middle of one of our meetings when the missing leader showed up, face fallen and swollen with tears as he did his best to keep himself together to announce it to the rest of us. A chill ran up my spine as I listened to him and my jaw clenched. I hadn't told the other Warblers about my own mom and what had happened. I wasn't sure how to bring it up in conversation and I thought maybe it'd just happen, but as I listened to Dylan's broken voice, I remembered how terrible mine must have sounded when I finally did talk to Jeff over skype that afternoon...

I didn't need to look over to know that it was Jeff that had taken my hand in his own.

I squeezed back to let him know I knew he was there.

We were invited to the funeral and as brothers we attended and sang at the request of Dylan. I think it was more for the purpose of keeping him busy rather than comfort at that point though. Just before we left as a group Jeff and I had been sitting in our room on my bed. My feet were on the floor and my face blank as I stared ahead of me. I felt the bed dip and his thigh brushed mine when my lip quivered. The loss was still fresh in my own memory. I can still remember the image of her being taken in the body bag from my window. I didn't see her face until the funeral. I had sat silent until everyone disappeared and it was only my father and I were left with her. My muscles had frozen, people's words muffled and incoherent to me through the entire service. Only when I stood to leave did I feel anything as I reached my hand in to touch her pale face one last time, cold to the touch and colorless compared to her rosy cheeks I had loved so much. I was snapped out of my thoughts when Jeff's arm wound around my shaking shoulders and as I heard his voice, I felt the tears slip once more, just as painful as they had been the first time.

"I've got you, Nicky. I'm here now."

Because you're hurting.

And then I just cried harder.

I should have felt some kind of shame for being this age and crying in front of my best friend, but I had done it before and at that point I was past caring. I'd seen too many things and had shared too many moments with him to care if he saw me act like a child, if that was how some put it. He was Jeff and it didn't matter what I did, I knew it wasn't going to change the way he saw me.

When I was able to compose myself enough to stand, Jeff gave me a worried look, hand on my shoulder, but I just nodded and smiled slightly, thankful that he was at least physically with me to bring me together long enough to be there for someone whose wound was fresh. We sang a soft melody that didn't have any words, but you got the feeling of loss and love in the way the melody switched and the tone darkened. By the end of it I felt the tears appear again, but they were faint enough to pass it off as the mutual feeling among the older guys who were closer to Dylan.

I fell asleep that night for the first time with Jeff's arms wrapped around me.

The first time we separated was the first Christmas we had while at Dalton.

We had bypassed the fall break, staying behind to spend the week in our dorm, snacking on what food the cafeteria provided and sneaking treats back to our room for movie marathons. A few times we were caught running through the halls as we sang loud and obnoxiously, writing things on everyone's boards outside their rooms. I didn't have anywhere to go that week. With my father on base in North Carolina there was no point flying all the way out there to spend all my time in my room reading comic books. When Jeff found out I was staying behind, he insisted he do the same. But he couldn't stay behind with me for the month long break that was meant to be spent with his family. Jeff insisted that I go home with him, that I could spend time with him instead of sitting in the dorm all alone. I reassured him. It wasn't for long and my father promised he'd make it out for Christmas eve.

He hadn't, however, and I was met with disappointment that morning when a package arrived that was suppose to be my present. I didn't open it. Instead I put it away and laid on my bed, surprise almost nonexistent in comparison to the shock that I would have felt if he had showed up. I knew that he loved me, but at the same time I knew that work came first.

I put on a happy face when Jeff and the rest of the guys returned to the dorms, not so much covering up what disappointment I had over break, but genuine enjoyment that they were back. It was a weird feeling, being left when I had been the one to leave for so long and to see them return was a relief. I almost jumped when Jeff surprised me with a box in the face. I had been sitting at my desk when all of the sudden there was a square package that had been slapped on top of my hands, thankfully light.

A grin had spread across my face and a chuckle escaped me as I gave him a light punch to the stomach, comforted by the feeling of his shirt against my hand, that he was tangible when for a month I had gone to sleep alone every night half cold and alone. And now he was back, present in hand... I ripped the paper open and undid the tape that was keeping whatever it was locked inside and... my face slowly fell.

There, sitting at the bottom of the box was a pair of brightly colored sunglasses. They were plastic, old and worn, and the sides were red but the lenses were a deep black. And they were small. They'd never have fit my head then, but five years ago, I wouldn't doubt it. Lifting them to my eye level, I turned them in my fingers and saw the sloppy scribbled little 3 just next to the rim of them in dark permanent marker. It was blotchy, the marker worn away from being moved over the years, but there was no mistaking it.

I wasn't sure what to say. There was something about the way he was looking at me, like he was remembering them just as I was, the moments when we'd become different people all those years ago. When we'd become secret agents, our alter egos, and we'd go on missions. It was a way for us to escape what was happening in our homes. The nights when our parents would bicker, their words callous and sharp to our sensitive ears. We'd sneak outside, glasses on the bridge of our noses and play in a different world that we concocted. I was Agent 3. I had special abilities, chosen due to my amazing knowledge in stealth, martial arts, and awesomeness. Jeff was Agent 6, named rightly so because he was "twice as better as me." To that day I was sure I could still find pictures of us drowning in my dad's suits, ties messily hanging around our necks and sleeves hiding our hands.

I shook my head. I could hardly believe that he had kept them. They were measly toys from so long ago and yet they'd survive his move and all this time...

"It's not... much." A hand lifted to rub the back of his neck awkwardly. "But I found them in the basement a while ago and I thought it'd be... nice."

I chuckled and lifted the pair to my face. The arms bent out to fit me and I felt the pressure against the side of my face, but I laughed nonetheless and glanced up. "No, dude. They're amazing." Taking them off, I inspected them once more. "I can't believe you kept them..." Letting out a breathy laugh, I lifted my hand to touch his arm and reassure him that I liked the present. It was better than anything he could possibly buy. I didn't need a 50 dollar packaged present. What I needed, even if I didn't know it, was this reminder.

For the upcoming months, I'd sit in our room when Jeff wasn't looking and I'd spin the glasses in my hand. I'd remember how we'd get lost in each other, not only in the past, but the present. I'd think about why I had laughed uncontrollably for ten minutes straight at something the blonde had done over our computers as he reenacted the stunt even though it really wasn't that funny. I'd remember the thrill I'd get every time I was called downstairs because the phone call was for me. I'd remember how... incredibly unrealistic it was that Jeff and I had been able to keep so close for so long when we'd only spent months together as children.

And yet, somehow, we did it.

Meeting Jeff's eyes, I smiled. It was a reflex. Though it really wasn't instinct that made me smile so instantly. It was the unconscious knowledge that I was going to be looking at Jeff and for whatever reason when I did, I knew that he almost never failed to make me do otherwise. I realized later that most of the time he wasn't even trying. He'd just be sitting there acting like himself and there was something in me that couldn't hold back this happiness that he created. Just for me, it felt like. This world that he created and only I existed.

But that was the part that made sense. I use to watch him. For a long time I'd keep my sight ahead of me, but I'd be watching his movments out of the corner of my eyes and I'd see the way he just had this effect on people. He brightened the room with whatever the hell it was that he did. And when I thought about it, even when we were little it was the same way. Even when Jeff was going trough hell, when his father's scream could be heard outside his door, when he was completely broken down and covered in tears, he found a way to bring himself together for me. To make me feel better instead of worrying about himself.

The part that didn't make sense was the inhale of breath I took when Jeff placed his fingers over my hand. There was this sudden sting in my chest... but it was a good sting. It was warm. It was something I hadn't felt before, or, at the time that was what I believed. This time, it was just too powerful to be ignored. His fingers slowly traced mine, our skin grazing for only seconds and I had every urge to turn my hand around and thread them together as my head spun and my throat closed on me. Suddenly, everything I had thought I wanted before, with other girls that I had given second looks and ones that had tried to catch my attention, I felt race through me for him. My best friend. It was so overwhelming that I didn't have time to catch all of it and instead of welcoming it I instantly took my hand back, clenching my fingers and digging them into my palm as though I had just been burnt.

His face fell and the look that he gave me tore my insides into pieces.

I didn't say anything as he nodded once and turned away from me.

I didn't know what to say.

(Jeff's POV)

I had never kept a secret from Nick before. Nothing other than Dalton. I couldn't. It was a hard thing to think about: That there was a part of me that he didn't know about, as weird as it may have sounded. Part of this I knew was because I thought I knew him inside and out. I didn't have any reason to think that he'd keep something from me. He was Nick and I'd seen him at the worse and best times. I couldn't think of him in any other way except that he was special to me.

But there was one topic we never really talked about and that was the one thing that I had kept from him.

The day that I had came out to my mom, after the relief I felt for someone knowing, I promised myself that I would tell Nick next. He had the right to know. He was my best friend and I trusted him over everyone else. But... every time I thought about telling him that I liked guys, my throat would close up and my stomach would drop. I didn't think he would reject me or hate me. There were plenty of other guys that came to Dalton because they needed to take advantage of the no-tolerance policy and we were friends with them too.

I was scared that if I told him, he'd catch on to another part of me that I was hiding that I knew had the ability to ruin our friendship, because having more than just "buddy" feelings for your best friend could not only make things awkward with them knowing about it, but it could tear them apart. I'd seen it.

At first it was easy to work around. I made sure to keep my back turned when we were changing and kept my hands to myself when I could, even though I spent most nights in his bed. I just wanted to stay as close to him as I could, sometimes reaching out to touch him just to make sure he was still there.

When it came time for the first summer after Dalton, I had done my best to bite my lip and ignore what Nick was saying. He kept telling me how things would be fine with him spending the few months with his dad. I didn't have anything against him. He was a good guy, but I grew up with the military too and knew just as well as Nick that that always came first. Always. I tired to get Nick to agree to come spend the summer with me. For weeks I talked to him about him bunking with me, whether that was in the same room or in the guest bedroom, I didn't care. I just didn't want to spend the summer like we'd spent every other year: apart. My mom even tried too, encouraging him that it wouldn't be a problem, but he simply refused. I wasn't sure why at the time. I didn't have any reason to believe that we were anything other than best friends. I didn't think he knew my secret, so things couldn't have been weird between us from what I could tell, and we still spoke every day, whether that was over phone, text, or otherwise.

It was weird being back home now. While I was away, my mom had had the baby. They named her Ellie and mom wouldn't stop talking about how similar we looked (because we had inherited her genes). It was surreal for the longest time, holding the kid and thinking that it had been inside my mom's stomach not too long ago. It was weird thinking I had a sister in the first place. I'd spent years with Nick, who, was amazing, but to physically have someone that was related to me, littler than me in size and would grow up in the same house, was pretty crazy to wrap my head around. I was thankful, however, that she came once things settled down.

It was going to be hard to explain my dad to her.

Every summer I spent a week with my dad, even though I could have spent a month, like he asked every year. It was easier to take the short amount of time and get out of there before things got... worse. Once he agreed to therapy sessions and other things for his anger problem, he was allowed to see me. And... until I was 18, I didn't have a choice, but to go. Most of the time there I spent in my room, trying to act invisible. Even though there was a part of me that hated him, there was also a part that tried to believe that there was still good under his drunken demeanor. For the first few days, every time I was there, he'd let me get adjusted to the change. Maybe it was because he felt it was just as awkward as it was for me. We didn't talk outside these seven days. Seven days out of three hundred and sixty five. So, who was I to be obligated to this guy that I was only genetically attached to?

I grinned and bared it, staying silent for most of the time that I was forced outside the room I was given and when it was time to say goodbye he always did the same thing. Even though I had grown, taller than every other boy in my year and almost to my dad's shoulders, he placed his hand on my head with this look that I didn't understand for the longest time and would say, "Good seeing you, Squirt. We'll try again next time." And then he'd turn without another word as people crowded around me, waiting to board the same plane back to the sunny state of California.

And that wasn't even the part I was confused about telling her about. I was confused on how I was going to tell her ten years from now, why we didn't have the same father and why mine had beaten our mother and me until we were forced to move across the country.

I tried not to think about it now when half the summer was still ahead of me and Ellie was small enough that she couldn't yet crawl. There was time to sort it all out, what I was going to say and how I was going to say it.

But the next years that came made everything so much more different than I could have possibly imagined.

That summer I kept in contact with Nick every day, just like old times when I'd wake up to his call, only now it was his words that I read in the morning when I first woke up, at times sending him a text before he could. Though I preferred to see him in real life, just a finger tip's touch away, I was grateful for the thought that, no matter where either of us were, we'd still be together.

As I sat on the edge of my bed in my room on the west coast, my stomach rolled at the thought. Together. That was a word, so simple when used in every day life, but could make a single sentence complex and elegant with the stress of one's voice.

I couldn't help it. As much as I just wanted to forget it, there were days when feelings overwhelmed me and shrouded every inch of sanity that I had left. There were days, mornings, afternoons, nights, when I just couldn't stop my hand from inching down my body to grasp my hardening cock with Nick's face in my mind. Every time my hand slipped over the slippery skin, I'd imagine we were back in the dorm and I was in bed with him again, his own fingers reaching out to wrap around my dick and causing an unbearable heat that would build until it irrupted and caused my back to arch in the sheets. I'd pretend Nick was whispering in my ear, his lips ghosting over my own, my neck, my chest, everything he could touch and I'd imagine this look in his eyes that I knew I gave him whenever his back was turned and I knew I was in the clearing.

That he wanted me.

But it wasn't just the physical want, though that was there too. Every day in the back of my mind when he was within arm's reach, I had this urge to reach out and touch his skin simply because I could. There more so times in the middle of the night when Nick was sleeping and his hair would fall into his face as he unconsciously turned to face me, when I'd see myself lift my hand to brush the curls away... There were a few times when I caved. When I knew he was in a deep enough sleep that I could make such a gesture without him noticing, I'd let my thumb graze the underside of his bottom lip or eyes count the almost nonexistent freckles on his face by the small amount of moonlight that filtered through the windows.

Sometimes I found myself alone in our room after he had just stepped out and I'd sigh in relief as I stripped from my clothing and enter our private shower where I'd lean against the wall and let the water drip down my body, hand winding around my cock, fingers flicking the tip as I imagined Nick on his knees, tongue working against me. I used the sound of the running water to moan his name as I came against the cold tile. For seconds afterward I'd see him, kneeling before me, with this satisfied smile on his face as he licked his lips... And then the vision would fade into nothing and I'd realize that I'd just thought about my best friend as I jacked off in our dorm.

But it was more than that.

It was more than touching and feeling his skin against mine.

It was that... every time I saw him frowning, hurt, sometimes when things were at the worse or old memories would flare up, I'd feel this unbelievable hole in my chest because I hated that there was a part of Nick that could be torn and scratched at until tears leaked to the surface of his eyes. I loathed that something, anything, could exist that could hurt Nick in any form. I just wanted him to be happy. I wanted to see him smile and I wanted to know that he was getting everything he deserved. I did the best I could to keep a smile on his face and most of the time it was easy. I couldn't conceive a reason that any of my terrible jokes would be funny, but they made Nick laugh anyway, so I told them. I made sure that there was always something in my back pocket that could keep us busy when his thoughts wandered to the unpleasant. I did everything I could to bring his thoughts to me and away from the bad.

And it wasn't always the present I found myself thinking about. It was silly to think that in my sophomore year of high school I'd be thinking about college or my house or my career. And to me, it was. But still, my thoughts lingered on who I was going to be and where I would end up and even though everything was a blur, my face painted just beyond sight, I could see who was standing next to me because anyone else was inconceivable.

I had lost Nick once in my life and I refused to let him go again, no matter the cost. And if that meant we would remain friends for the rest of our lives, then I was going to have to deal with that.

But saying I would have to deal with it and actually dealing with it was much harder than I thought.

It was the winter of our third year when I realized just how wrong I was.

Our second year had gone smoothly. Just as well as the first. The Warblers stuck together and though we didn't get as far as we would have liked in competition, it just made us that more determined to win the next year and the year after that... We became closer, relying on each other not only during practices, but out of them. We studied together and watched movies on our days off. Nick and I usually dragged everyone out to walk to a nearby paintball field at least once every few weeks to just get the guys to breathe a little.

Over the nine months that school was in, I noticed something though. Things had changed, or were in the process of changing, though I had no idea what I was up against. There were little things I did that Nick seemed to start noticing too. Things that I eventually had to hold back from doing all together, too scared that I might give him the wrong impression. Or, I guess, a very right one.

Many times when I found us close, sometimes when we were playing video games or it was that time at night when we'd crawl into his bed, I'd find my mind going blank. Whatever it was that I was doing would fade from my thoughts and my muscles would move according to memory as I focused on the smallest touch of our legs or the way his eyes would flicker to mine just before he told me goodnight and closed them until I heard his breathing come in and out in long calming breaths.

And when we weren't doing that, there were the Crawford Girls.

There were plenty of high schools nearby and I knew that if we just somehow joined a group from one of them, we'd have a larger group of friends and "prospects" than we had already. But Dalton and Crawford had a deal. They were our sister school and when events were put on, they were automatically invited, though they didn't always attend. There was one thing once a year that was specifically put on for them: A dance. It was simple, a place where boys and girls could get together and dance and get to know one another.

And not just that, but it was a place for the guys as well. It was well known that many of the guys that had sought refuge here were dating one another. There wasn't a single person that was left out, hated, or forgotten because of this, though it wasn't highlighted either. It was as though Dalton was this small universe where labels didn't exist. There were no standards and no one was treated specially by the faculty.

We just existed.

I hadn't come out, even though I knew that no one would actually care that I was gay. I easily slid around the questions though, when people around me talked about both girls and guys alike, paying special attention to Nick's responses. I laughed it off and nodded, agreeing to the different types of people that they were attracted to, thoughts set on the one person I had my sights set on, only inches from me. I was still afraid that one of the wrinkles in Nick's face would disappear from his smile if he put two and two together and finally realized that, even now, six years after I had met Nick in that Florida classroom and two and half years after I had hugged him in their dorm for the first time, I was still in love with him.

The day I had realized I was in love with him was just another day. Simple and same as ever. I had woken up early, showered, and came back into the room to find Nick sprawled out across our bed with his mouth half hung open and saliva pooling at the corners of his lips. I had leaned down, hand reaching out to touch his shoulder and wake the dork up from whatever kind of dream he was having, when it hit me like freight truck.

I had realized that this was how I wanted to wake up every single morning. I wanted to roll over half asleep out of bed and get ready and come back to bed to find the brunet in a slumber, looking as ridiculous as we both normally did. I wanted this to be normal. I wanted to lean down and brush my lips across his ear and chuckle his name until he woke up and I wanted my face to be the first thing he saw, smile crossing his features in realization that I was there with him.

My heart had been pumping twice as hard as he woke up, eyes blinking as he met my own wide ones and a smile crossed his face, just as I had seen it moments ago in my head.

"'Mornin' Jeffster. Time already?"

I was so lost in my own thoughts that I didn't notice the small glance over his shoulder that Nick gave me as he entered the bathroom. I was too far gone to take in the sound of a groan over the sound of water against porcelain. I was so far gone from the present, real world, that I didn't hear the muffled sigh of a word coming from the direction of the shower that my best friend preoccupied.

It wasn't too long after that, that the dance was held.

Everyone attended. It was an annual event that had been going on since the schools had been formed, though now a days, it was way for guys to find a girlfriend or quick hook up. We were seventeen and even though we'd gone through the last few years without actually going on dates, I knew it was going to happen eventually. We had been so use to getting to know each other again in the prospect of distance, that I had forgotten that there was a possibility that Nick might actually find someone one day.

That night I had been the one to tie the tie around his neck and straighten it down his chest, nodding in approval, ready for whatever was to come with an encouraging smile. But at the time I didn't know that I'd end up in a crowded room feeling completely alone.

One of our friends, David, knew that I was in love with Nick. He had, so he said, caught me countless times watching Nick when I thought no one was looking, much longer than a normal friend would. And there were a few times that I had almost told Blaine, but there was so much going on in his life with Kurt, a transfer student from a local public high school at the time, that I couldn't think to bother him, though I did whatever I could to help their flourishing relationship, ironically with Nick. I figured at the time, if I couldn't have the person I was in love with, I should at least help others be with theirs, right?

But, David was off with Wes somewhere, though I didn't want to linger on the thought. I loved my friends, but what happened behind closed doors was their business (not that that had stopped Nick and I from whistling outside their room more than a few times.) Blaine hadn't even been present. He had been pulled away to watch a football game at McKinley High with Kurt, though I didn't blame the guy.

I'd follow Nick anywhere.

No, instead, I found myself watching Nick, though I stood right next to him, both of us surrounded by girls. I was confident about myself. I knew I had good looks and for some reason people found my humor amusing, but I couldn't bring myself to truly care about what they thought about me, just as a person or romantically wise. My eyes, though set on the many attractive faces that surround me, were focused on the brunet at my side as he winked in one of their directions. Slowly the girls were pulled away by others until it was just Nick and I left with one other girl who's hand kept reaching out to touch his arm. My eyes followed it. Every time her fingers touched his arm, his shoulder, or his side and his face would light up in a smile, I found mine falling until I realized that I wasn't holding my expression back anymore and my depression was as clear as day. One of the guys came over and placed a hand on my shoulder, stealing me away from the chaos I had been watching, voice low as he spoke to me, the thought of how he knew not even registering in my thoughts.

"Come on. It's not gonna help if you watch it happen."

"It." I knew what that meant. That small word, so important to the English language was the definition of everything I had been waiting for.

I was waiting for Nick's hand to reach out so his fingers could tangle in mine. I was waiting to see the expression on his face where I knew he needed me as much as I needed him. I was waiting for words to form on his lips that had on mine so many damn times, though I had been unable to speak them. Every time I imagined them being said, a piece of me would die with it, knowing that it'd never happen and that was what "it" was.

It was the feeling of being torn in half, a piece of me left with Nick, though he didn't even notice.

I stood there with a group of guys in a daze for a good twenty minutes. My eyes didn't form shapes and my mind forgot colors. I had forgotten what it felt like to watch Nick speak to girls, though it was normally about them. The last time it had happened, it had been so innocent. We were both young and he hadn't even known the definition of what a "date" was when they had gone to that football game. And now... now I was watching Nick pick up girls and as stupid as it sounded it tore at me.

I felt a tug on my sleeve and when I turned around, my heart escalated. There was Nick, my Nicky smiling up at me like he always did. And then suddenly he leaned forward, his lips grazing my ear and if not for the words that came out of his mouth, I would have shivered.

"Hey, I'm gonna bring her back to the dorm. I'll put a tie around the handle if there's uh... anything goin' on."

When he pulled away, I saw Nick wink at me in a hinting manner, before my eyes scanned down his arm and noticed the way his hand was connected with the girl's.

My heart plummeted. I watched Nick with his back turned to me as he walked out of the large room with his hand surrounding the small dainty one with, what I was sure, was soft skin that mind own, rough and calloused, didn't compare to. It took only moments until I realized where they were going and what was going to happen.

Puke ran up the back of my throat, acid stinging the lining and causing me to gag as I ran toward the nearest bathroom. I felt like a girl as I leaned over the sink, dry heaves causing my stomach and chest to contract and push anything that I had out, which was almost nothing. I was probably overreacting, but I couldn't bring myself to care as my thoughts lingered on what was happening in my room in my bed.

Soon, Nick would be kissing her and she would be laying naked in our sheets. It was the one place I had ever sought comfort. It was the place, late at night, where I could let every single wall I had put up so Nick didn't see my one secret, fall. It was the one thing we had where distance didn't matter. There were nights in that bed when I felt his arms warp around me in his sleep, I assumed, and his breath hit the back of my neck. It was the one place I could pretend to have everything that I wanted and craved for as long as I'd realized what I was.

It was ours.

We had moved thousands of miles away from each other, parted over breaks, cried over web cams, and this small piece of spring and cotton was all I had now to confirm that Nick was here with me. Just like that night years ago when I had been woken up in the middle of darkness to find my mother on our floor unconscious and I had sought warmth from Nick then, his small hand pressed against my back until they found my face, wiping what tears had fallen down my childish features.

It was, late at night when he was asleep, my place to lay my fingers between his and imagine what it'd feel like for his to tighten around mine.

And now, Nick was going to have someone else in them. Everything I had imagined, every sigh and moaned I had dreamed about Nick making was going to finally be heard by the walls, but they would be made by another person. Another girl, who was so unlike me in every way with dark hair and light eyes...

My hands cupped water to splash against my face and rinse my mouth out. As stupid and selfish as I knew I sounded, my best friend was loosing his virginity in our room and all I could think about was: Why wasn't I loosing mine with him? I wanted to loose myself in him. I wanted to press my lips against his and feel his fingers in my hair, his chest bare against mine and thighs parted for me and I wanted to hear my name as I buried myself in him and gasped into his mouth. I wanted to make him feel good and I wanted to show him how much I loved him.

The water that ran down my face meshed with the salty substance that fell from my eyes, half of my hair dripping as well. I didn't bother to wipe it away as I left the bathroom or even glance in the direction of the rest of the guys I knew. My feet carried me aimlessly forward until I found myself just outside our door. I was appalled with myself. I didn't want to be here. I didn't want to hear it or see it and I didn't want to think about it. My lip quivered and took a step back until my shoulders hit the wall, as though the door was on fire. I closed my eyes and breathed deep, thinking of the possible reasons why my body would bring me here while simultaneously going through places I could try and spend the night and hopefully the rest of the next day until I noticed that... there was no tie.

Through the dense fog that was my logic, I realized that there was no tie present on the handle, a sign Nick had said would be there if...

Head blank, my muscles tensed. Every single part of me screamed to turn around and to not look back because most likely he had simply forgotten about the small act in his... situation, but there was this small quiet voice that I had shut for so goddamn long that was begging me to reach out and open our door.

And I did.

The room was dark, no lights were on and everything was quiet. No movement or single muscle twitched for seconds except for my eyes, which sought out a familiar face, hoping pitifully for the lack of two, when I saw Nick sitting at the edge of our bed.

He was leaning forward on his knees, hands covering his face until I opened the door farther until light covered his fingers.

His eyes met mine and my face fell. There was this desperate look of sadness that almost made me drop to my knees and ask him what was wrong. He just looked so incredibly broken. His skin almost drooped off his bones, frown so present I thought it was stuck and my chest ached at the sight of his brows scrunched together, eyes dark and lined with a wetness I wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't looked up and the light had caught it.

I wanted to make a joke or pat his back or just hug him because the only thought that made sense was that something had gone wrong or he had been rejected. As much as it tore me knowing that Nick would have been with someone else, it was a thousand times worse, hundreds of knives piercing my body, at the thought that Nick was hurt.

Instead I stood there in silence and closed the door, unknowing what to say.

It seemed for a long while Nick didn't either.

"I tried."

I frowned in response as his voice broke the awful silence. His gaze was on the floor, unfocused and far from me as he spoke.

"I tried." His voice broke, breath uneven and shoulders shaking. "I couldn't do it."

I was completely perplexed, not sure what to say in a moment like this when, my best friend, the love of my life was sitting so torn apart as I was. I wanted to say something, anything to show that I was listening to him and I was here, but I couldn't form words. My hands clenched into fists in irritation at myself and I closed my eyes to collect my thoughts when I heard the bed springs hiss at the loss of weight.

When I opened my eyes, Nick was standing just in front of me, so close that if I just leaned forward inches, I could taste...

"I'm sorry," his voice came out again as best it could. "I couldn't do it, Jeffy. I couldn't-"

And for a split second I thought Nick was going to hug me because his arms reached up and just as I found myself reacting to press him against me in comfort, there was a weight on my hips and I was being forced backward until the door jerked on its hinges and I was pressed against oak, something foreign and hard pressed between my legs, thick against my own as it ground against me and I whimpered.

I heard Nick's voice one last time before lips slammed against mine and my head cracked against the door, my entire body paralyzed with shooting nerves to every toe and finger in absolute pleasure.

"I couldn't do it if it's not with you."

A/N: The next chapter will be a little shorter and coming very soon. ^_^