This was written for a wonderful artist on DeviantArt named Mavoorik .com/. I was a little aprehensive about sharing this, but what the hey. If you have a problem with slash (BoyxBoy) You shouldn't have clicked in the first place! :D

It wasn't fair. I wanted him and I couldn't have him: simple as that. It was something that mocked me everyday. I hung around him, listened to him, loved him; but there was not a damn single thing I could do about it. I could never be with him; well, truly be with him. I hated not getting what I wanted; hated myself for going so long without letting my true intentions be known. I'm not the one to neither keep quiet nor let my opinion go unheard. Those simply complex words though, weighed down like lead on my tongue, I refused to utter. I'd spend all day with him and not once could I ease my pain. How I wanted to act upon my internal instincts; that carnal part of me that instructed my hands to grab him; lips to find his. There was a time where I had convinced myself that I was higher than said primitive instincts; dumb niggas resort to following those and it almost always resulted in something stereotypically disappointing. Upon further inspection, however, I realized: they seemed a hell of alot happier than me.

I loved him and I don't love many; I can't even say I like many. Loneliness was a foreign feeling the mineut he had moved to Woodcrest and now I had lost him. Now his arms were wrapped around another. I wasn't one to get emotional, but every time I saw him with her it tore my heart out anew. What was now. What could have been. It all haunted me to no end; I was going fucking insane. He'd talk to me; his joyous voice, deep and light-hearted, and tell me about his day. Most of the time, I didn't even have to entertain him with any rebuttal; I could sit in silence and marvel at his dark beauty. He'd twist his thick dreads between each finger and kick his legs childishly; simply enjoying my company. He'd talk and talk, laugh and laugh; it drove me mad. I couldn't do this any longer. Although I knew there was a special part of his heart that was reserved for only me, I refused to share him. Without letting him know the truth; how I really felt, I was the ultimate loser in the situation.

He had chosen to be in a relationship with some random bimbo. He acted according to his own free will; and judging by the engorged breast on the girl, acted according to his dick as well. I tried to avoid seeing them together as much as possible. Every instant it did occur, my vision grew red. I hated the girl, didn't bother to remember her name, but couldn't blame her. Michael Caesar was just so goddamn lovable. Everyone wanted him to some extent. I wanted him the most, however. I wished he could somehow know that. The reality was that he didn't and simply floated through life, happily accepting the compliments and love he received.

"Damn Huey, what's been up wit' youse lately?" Caesar chuckled, his Brooklyn accent anchored with a slight serious tone. It was just a normal afternoon at my house. He had propped himself up onto his elbows, looking up at me curiously from over his newspaper. I tore my eyes away from my computer screen, knowing I was looking at him from the reflection anyway, and turned toward my bed where he lounged. I arched an eyebrow in confusion and deepened my frown, in spite of myself. I knew exactly what he was referring to. "Don't you give me that look, Mr. Freeman. You're upset...well more than usual, that is."

I listened to the springs of my bed creak loudly as the inquisitive Brooklynite sat up fully . "I'm fine. You're imagining things Caesar." Waving it off, I turned back around. How the hell could he not know by now? I could hear him begin to fold the paper and, after much struggle, he placed it down.

"You're hiding sumthin'. That's what is it."

Absolutley correct. "You're insane Caesar. That's what it is. Gimme the paper if you're finished with it."

"Quit bein' difficult, man! You can't fool me, I know you better than that."

Then why don't you know that I-

"Was it something I've done?"

My eyes widen slightly; I hadn't noticed him slowly approach me until it was too late. He placed his hands on my stiff shoulders, squeezing them tight in worry. No doubt a friendly guesture."Sorry if it is...But seriously, you gotta let a nigga know from time to time. I lack the ability to read minds y'know!" God, that laugh of his rattled my brain.

I craned my neck around to look at him. "I'm not mad at you, if that's what you think." My eyes held the same steel emotion that I had had the luxury of hiding behind for years. He tucked a few loose dreads behind his ear and relayed the stare; his not being near as intimidating as mine. His dark eyes gazed past my facade.

"Fine. Don't tell me." He shoved the paper into my chest. "I thought we were tighter than that, but whatever. I don't even want to know" That dumbass. I was the one who had taught him reverse-psychology in the first place; he could never use it on me. I could tell he was genuinely hurt though. He was right. We were tight and did share most things. I never wanted him to hurt.

Caesar began to retreat back to my bed, head hung sadly. "Wait," I caught his sleeved arm quickly. I stared at him wordlessly; how was I supposed to say it? Was I just supposed to tell him that I loved him? That I was miserable without him? That it tore me apart to see him with another? How could I relay that into words without being a complete dumbass? I stood up, his sleeve still in my grip, and peered down at my shorter companion. Taking a deep breath, I drew out more time to think on a tactic to reveal my feelings. Why did this, of all things, have to be so difficult?

Looking up, Caesar lightly gasped. "Oh God. You didn't kill anyone, right?" Leave it to him to resort to such extremities. I stared at him blankly and didn't answer; causing him to assume the worst. He furrowed his dark eyebrows and stared at his newly found 'criminal' friend. I was getting desperate and tired of this foolishness: I need to tell him and wasn't one to belabor a point. "Dawg man! That's intense!" I wished he'd shut up a while so I could think. "Well? Are you gonna tell me who the unlucky person is or are you gonna make me gues-"

I jutted my chin forward slightly; just enough to lightly graze over his smooth lips: that shut him up quite efficiently. My heart began to race as I realized what was just done. Was that crossing the line? Was he disgusted? I read his face intently regarding the contact we had just made; the taboo that I dared to act upon. A sly grin began to tug at the corners of his mouth and his eyes gleamed mischievously. He didn't look too upset, to say the least. "So...I'm guessing you're not a murderer then..." The second lunge I made was completely instinctual and granted me the satisfying taste of his minty lip balm. I released his bottom lip and paused, once again. We stood frozen, surveying the heated space between our faces. Time pressed on as we gazed at each other; literally inhaling one another's air. After a while, Caesar made the advance. With a wide smile, he grabbed my face and planted a small kiss on my cheek; giggling as he held it longer than necessary. He was so dangerously close to my lips, yet he sweetly kissed around it in a teasing manner; knowing what I really wanted. The tantalizing smack his lips made each time they withdrew from a spot, filled the room's silence in company with our shallowed breaths. I stood still and allowed him to continue teasing me: he was the only one that could without recieving bodily harm. The sickening flutter in my heart informed me that I couldn't endure his playful manner for much longer and I obediently clutched his face. Holding him still, I pressed my lips against his. Chuckling, Caesar happily obliged and wrapped his arms around my neck; deepening the kiss.

We broke away, after seemingly an eternity, to catch our breaths. "...Damn, I gotta break it off with ma girl,then." He ran a hand through his tangled dreads; I did the same, though couldn't rightly navigate through the kinks of my afro. "She was gettin' boring anyways. Dull as a dooar knob." He heartily laughed and looked up, his smile faltering a bit. "But ya gotta tell me." I blinked a few times, not quite understanding what he meant. "I gotta hear it from Huey Freeman, himself." He took a step closer, which was extremely close considering where we already stood. "What's this really all about man? How do ya feel?"

Caesar knew I had trouble with this. It was the reason I sat dormant at his side for years. "I...um." I mean I basically got the damn idea across. "I...well..." He was doing this to torture me, his amused, gorgeous face told it all. Sighing, I snatched him by his waist and yanked him to me, completely obliterating what little space was left between us. After finding his bewitching lips once again, I tried to relay all my feelings through the contact. I figured I was doing a fine job, as I heard him moan slightly into my mouth. I broke once again and looked away. "Fine." He breathed out comically. "That'll have to do fa now." He playfully shoved me back and turned to head for my bed; grabbing a disacarded magazine on the way. "I'm glad you're so efficient with verbalizing how you feel."

Shaking my head at his sarcasm, I grabbed the newspaper and followed. Maybe I wasn't the best at wording my emotions, but I resolved that this way was sufficient enough, for the time being.