This story describes the relationship and love life of two underage fictional boys. Any likeness between the characters of this story and real people are purely coincidental. If it is not legal to view this type of material, or you are not 18 years of age, read at your own risk. All material pertaining to this story is copyrighted to the author. Do not repost without permission.
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Previously, in Killing Loneliness:
"Come on in," I said, my voice taking a hard edge.
The door opened, and there he was. My mom was smiling at the two of us, then turned and walked away. Blake shut the door behind him and stood there. I sat expectantly, waiting.
"You ready to talk now?"
"Blake," I started, looking him over.
"Jase, I'm sorry," he said, still standing at the door to my room, "I'm sorry about everything."
"You fucking should be," I stood up, "you put me on an emotional roller coaster, Blake."
"I know. You probably weren't expecting to ever see me again."
"No, I hadn't," I said, my voice taking on an icy tone, "but that's not all of it. Weren't you listening while I was yelling at you earlier?"
"Yeah," he looked at me sheepishly. "Jase, I'm sorry. I don't know what else to tell you."
"No, I suppose you don't," I retorted. I could feel tears forming in my eyes.
"You could have said something to, you know," he moved further into my room, sitting in the chair at my desk. I sat back down on the bed, looking at him.
"And how was I suppose to do that?" I asked, wiping the tears from my eyes. "You shut me out Blake."
"I didn't shut you out-"
"Yes, you did, Blake," my voice cracked here, "you shut me out. Nothing I did got me close to you. We were friends, Blake. What the hell happened?"
"I didn't want to shut you out," he said, his eyes shimmering with tears. "I didn't want to get hurt. I didn't want to hurt you."
He looked up at me. A tear streamed down his face.
"It didn't fucking work, Blake," I said, fighting back my own tears, "do you have any fucking idea what I felt like?"
"I might have an idea," he rubbed his cheek, were I could see a small bruise.
"No, I don't think you do, Blake. I was crushing on you. Every time I looked at you, I saw this perfect, unattainable boy. But at least you were there. At least you let me close enough to feel like a friend.
"But then, you shut me out," I looked at him, tears in both out eyes. "It felt like my heart broke into a million pieces every time I looked at you. You ignored me. Then, you told us you were moving. I felt like my heart had been ripped out and thrown in a blender. But I knew it wasn't you fault. It wouldn't have hurt as much if you had just let me close one last time before you left, but you never fucking did."
I started to cry. I let the sobs rack my body silently. I fell back onto the bed and cried into my pillow.
I heard the chair scratch on the floor, and the squeaking of floor boards.
"Jase, I really am sorry," I heard him say. He sat down on the bed. I looked up at him to see him sitting with his back towards me, but I could still see the tears streaming down his face. "I'm sorry for shutting you out. I'm sorry about not saying anything to you about this earlier. I'm sorry for not letting you close. I'm fucking sorry about everything, okay Jase."
He put a hand on my back, and I froze.
"But the thing I'm sorriest about is us, Jase. I'm sorry about what happened to us."
"Blake, I never-"
"Shut it, Jase. It's my turn."
I looked at him and nodded.
"Jase, I didn't mean to hurt you. I didn't mean to hurt any of the guys, for that matter, but you the most. You were special, Jase. Your were funny, but quiet. You didn't go out of your way to make a joke. You knew what to say to calm people down, or get them geared up for a fight. You looked great, you had a great personality. I fell in love with you after a while..."
I looked at him with a shocked expression on my face.
"...But I never thought I could tell you that I liked you like that. I wanted to tell you so fucking badly, it hurt. It felt like a ton of bricks was resting on my shoulders. And then, that summer before you told everyone, my dad found out he was going to be transferred that coming summer. It was terrible, Jase. And when you told everyone you were gay, I nearly died."
"But why, Blake? Why did you just shut me out like you did? If it fucking hurt you, why did you think it wouldn't fucking hurt me?"
"I didn't want to get attached, Jase," he wiped the tears from his eyes, "I didn't want to leave something like that. We both thought we never would see each other again."
"A year, Blake," I said, my voice a mix of sadness and anger, "we would have had that year. But you never let me close enough. Nothing I did seemed to get your god damn attention!"
"You always had my attention, Jase, always. I just-"
"Stuff it!" I sat up and shoved him, almost knocking him off the bed. "I did everything I could think to get to you, short of doing something physical."
"You did not," he replied, "you never did anything to try to get to me."
"Yes I fucking did, Blake," I shoved him again, this time forcing him off the bed. "I tried to get you at the new years eve party, Blake, at the party."
"No you..." a look of realization crossed his face. "Shit."
* * * * * * * * * *
The party was being held new years eve at Devin's. It was slated to start at 7, but I became so bored during the morning, I headed over there a few hours early to see if he could use some help. Of course, being one of those people who always waits till the last minute to do anything, he did. We worked for a few hours, then started playing videogames till 7 o'clock neared. He left to go greet people and get the music stuff organized.
Pretty soon, most of the guests had arrived. Devin had set up some instruments so he and his ban could play, so he was busy doing that. They were good to, probably the most popular in school band. I, on the other hand, was sitting in a corner near the TV watching the door. I really wanted, no, needed, to talk to Blake. I wanted to tell him how I felt about him.
Then, he was there.
He stepped through the door to much fan fare. Well, it didn't hurt that he was the lead singer in Devin's band, but still. He was quickly ushered up onto the small stage Devin had built in his living room. I was content to sit and listen.
I don't know how many people realize it, but singers voices never sound the same as the voice they use to talk to people. Blake's voice, for instance, was a little grainy when you talked to him. But when he sang, you'd never guess it was him. He could get a deal signed for the band on his own. Of course, Devin was the one who wrote all the music, which was great to. They reminded me a lot of Staind, with a lot of their songs being driven by either the acoustic guitar, but there was a bit of an emo flare to them.
Anyway, they played for about an hour, playing both their songs and some requests. Finally, they got off stage and turned it over to the karaoke machine and all the wanna be pop stars. Blake took his time, winding his way through the crowd as they complimented him on his singing. The rest of the band was getting the same attention, but Blake always stood out. I swear, he could replace Aaron Lewis from Staind, and no one would know the difference. Well, granted, his voice would be a heck of a lot higher, but he still sounds a lot like him.
After about 15 minutes of watching him, I got up to go talk to him. He left the living room and headed outside, which I thought was odd because it was snowing. I followed him anyway.
"Blake?" I said, quietly. He was leaning against the banister of Devin's deck, looking at the frozen pond in his backyard.
"Oh, hey Jase," he replied, looking over his shoulder. I looked into his eyes, and felt my heart droop a little bit. They were blank, but not cold. He didn't mind talking to me here, now, but there was a look there that was confusing. It was like he was trying to cover something inside that was burning to come out.
"What's up?" he asked as I leaned against the banister next to him.
"Nothing, really," I lied. He smiled.
"You're lying," he said.
"You're a bad liar, you know."
"So, what's up?"
I felt this huge urge just to lean over and kiss him. But then, what could happen to our friendship? He'd probably beat me into next week.
"Jase, I know you've had a rough time the last couple months," his eyes looked lost, "I wish I could help, but..."
"Blake, look, there's something I need to tell you," I interrupted. He gave me an inquisitive look. "Blake, I know we're not great friends, or even that close. But there's...something, I dunno, there..."
"Jase, you okay? You're shaking like mad..."
"I'm fine Blake, just listen for a minute..."
"Jase, whatever it is, it's ok."
Crap. Whatever he thought I was going to say, it wasn't anywhere close to what I was actually planning
"Blake, you're not listening," I said, pleading with my eyes.
"Don't worry about it Jase," he smiled, "I'm gonna go back to the party, `kay? See you around."
I watched him go back inside and disappear into the crowd. I forced back the tears that were forming. Maybe it was best not to tell him. I could only hope...
* * * * * * * * * * *
"Just shut up Blake," I could feel the tears starting to burn in my eyes, "you fucking ignored me. You never let me tell you. You...you just..."
"Jase..." he reached out his hand towards me. I made a feeble attempt to block it, but he just knocked my hand away. "Jase, I'm really, really, really sorry. I was a jerk to you. I didn't mean to shut you out, it's just..."
"It's just what Blake?" I asked, anger seeping into my voice. I let him hold me though, his hands resting gently on my shoulders. "What the hell happened to make you so distant? It was more than me coming out to you guys, and you moving. What was it Blake?"
He looked at me, tears forming in his eyes. Whatever he was about to say, he had been wanting to say it for a long time.
Keep an eye out for the next chapter of Killing Loneliness