Monsters

Asher - Age 17: Friends?

Bram knocked on the suite door between their rooms. 

"It's open on my side," Asher called, heart pounding as he wondered what Bram wanted. 

He walked in and leaned his broad shoulders against Asher's dresser. 

Wayden, he looked good in tight work jeans, boots, and a tank top. 

Asher's eyes danced their way up Bram's body to his face, taking in the knowing smirk. 

Damn, it so hard to keep his eyes to himself whenever Bram was around. Especially with that tank top clinging to his lickable abs.  

Asher looked away, hating the blush staining his face, waiting on Bram to tease him again just like last year. 

"Listen, Ash," Bram started hesitantly. 

Asher glanced up, seeing Bram look uncharacteristically shy and uncertain. He was even rubbing the back of his neck. 

"Yeah?" Asher managed. 

"Look... the thing in the barn last year... I'm sorry, okay? I should have given you more time." 

Asher blinked and repeated confusedly, "More time?" 

Bram sighed, "Yeah. I was too forward with my flirting. In my defense I've not done a lot of it." 

Asher gaped at him. "You were flirting with me?!" 

Bram gave him a 'duh' look but asked, "What did you think I was doing?" 

Asher searched his eyes before demanding, "Are you bullshitting me right now?" 

"No, Ash, I'm not. I'm trying to man up about my feelings and shit. Listen, I know I made you uncomfortable, but I can't stand us not being friends anymore. I thought you liked me too, but obviously I was wrong. Can we please just go back to being friends?" 

Asher's brain felt like it was short-circuiting. What did Bram mean, that he'd thought Asher liked him too. 

"Friends?" Asher managed to finally utter, still trying to get over the fact that the day Bram had humiliated him he hadn't been trying to. 

Bram sighed heavily, "Yeah, friends. Asher..."

"Yeah?"

"I don't want to lose you," he admitted looking down at the floor. 

"Bram? I don't want to lose you either. I thought you were making fun of me, calling me out for looking at you like that. I know guys aren't supposed to--" 

Bram was sitting on his bed in the next instant, "You were looking at me? I didn't imagine that?" 

"No," Asher admitted miserably. 

"'No' you weren't looking or 'no' I didn't imagine that?" 

"Damn it, Bram, you know how hot you are, okay? Girls are always following you around and calling the house to talk to you." 

"Yeah, but I don't like girls," he shot back. Then he went wide-eyed and looked at Asher with fear. 

Asher's head buzzed, "You don't like...girls?" 

Bram's whole body was tense, but he took a deep breath before admitting, "I like guys, Asher. I--I like you." 

"As friends?" Asher squeaked, still not understanding what was going on. Guys didn't like  other guys. 

"Let's put it this way, I've never asked a girl if she wanted to touch me," he said pointedly. 

Asher felt his face heating, but a stab of jealousy twisted his gut, and before he could think too much about his next words he demanded, "Who else have you asked to touch you?!"