Disclaimer: Now, we all know that this is fictional and is male on male. Homosexual sex. Male having sex with another male. They did it. Penetrated each other as males. Okay, if that is out of the way, I would like to note it again. This is telling about two males falling in love. They will do it, kiss, and among other things, have a good time with it! If you're not 18-years-old don't bother. I know I can't stop you, but it's a good idea.

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There was a blonde and there was a dark brunette. Dark dark. Wait, his hair was black. Although the black hair shined with purple, blue, pink it was still black, nothing else; and the owner usually became angry if someone mentioned that obvious fact. Still, the blonde, named Jackson, usually used the hair to get anything he'd like; not the best thing the black haired boy liked, but there was more into it than what people thought.

Orphaned at a young age, Jayson came into an orphanage which called itself "Mamber Housing". Scared and afraid of life, the blonde, Jackson, quickly befriended him. No one could have asked for a better pair of friends. Each having been so close, people were afraid to split them up even if the place was good for only cockroaches.

Foster parent(s)? Luckily, an old man who needed noise around the house saw them sitting on one thing the orphanage had to offer. A porch swing. Close call for the boys whom had no parents, no family, nothing and still managed to find each other through all the Hell. Is that all? Nope. Even though the man was gone 99.9% of the time, they were still assigned to him. They guessed that to be, because maids and butlers ran around the house all day, picking up after them.

"Jackie." Jayson smiled demonically, watching his friend cringe at his name being used for such rural purposes.

"What?" he spat, turning another channel on the leather L-shaped couch. He wasn't happy and his posture showed the world. On the long stem of the L he sat in the middle. Shoulders hunched, face in a permanent frown, he did whatever his body was doing. He, himself, was far off in thought to care about anything around him.

"Pick something other than flipping. I already want to watch twenty-six things." He sighed, leaning on a palm. The other arm, sprawling across his lap while the fingers tapped on the couch arm once his friend flipped him off. Squinting evilly at Jackson, Jayson started thinking.

Blowing air out of his mouth the get rid of an annoying bang that teased his nose, Jayson sat there, waiting for Jackson's mind decision. Sitting, sitting, sitting... Seemed like forever until Jackson threw the remote at the floor, growling. "Fuck."

"Baby."

"Shut up."

"Why?"

"Because your hair is multi-toned."

He frowned. "Jackie."

"Fuck you."

"What?" Jayson turned his head to face Jackson's angry body. Shaking his hands in front of him, eyes looking only to the pink, well painted, ceiling, and said in a high-pitched voice: "Let's cuss, it helps our lives.." He slouched again, passively staring at his scowling friend. "Fuck." He paused, eyes dodging from one side of the room to the other. Nothing. "I think I saved a life." His eyes, along with his torso, swayed dignified in that spot accompanied by a smug, well lit, smile.

Half lidded, one of Jackson's eyes twitched. "Shut. The. Fuck. Up." his mouth pursed, there were wrinkles between his eyebrows, and his face was suddenly flushing to a hot pink.

Startled, Jayson tilted his head as he plopped a hand into his folded legs. "What's with you?" The free hand pointed suspiciously at his friend, one eye closed, the other one opened.

"Your face." He snarled hitting the couch with both fist before creating echoes, with his stomping, down the empty hallway.

"Oh my God, what a bitch!" Jayson whispered shuddering out the loser his blonde left behind. "Phew." One more shudder, he ruffled his hair madly out of confusion and aggravation.

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"UGH!" Jackson stomped away, waving his arms, but quickly glued them right back.

BAM! Right foot. BAM! Left foot. The anger unleashed itself with each step making it gradually easier to slam the door more quietly than he would have. Lips vibrating off of each other, he fell against the portal to a faux life.

"Why must everything be so difficult?" He slid down the groovy door, his troubles sighing out of his mouth.

"MAYBE BECAUSE YOU'RE BEING A POMPOUS ASSHOLE!" Jayson banged on the other side of the door.

The blonde, involuntarily, fell forward then jerked backwards. His head slammed against the large hunk of wood while the rest of him screamed out in pain. There was no intermission on him stretching out his jaw in a verbal punch. "YOU FUCKIN' BITCH!!"

"THERE WE GO WITH THE FUCKIN' CUSSIN' AGAIN! WHERE IS THAT GOING TO GET YOU? I'LL TELL YOU WHAT! ANOTHER KICK ON THE DOOR." Jayson wasted no time in throwing back his slipper-ed foot and swinging it forward in all the strength he had. But, just as his big toe knocked on the door, it slowly backed away as the owner's eyes opened to the world with a cry of pain.

Jackson, on the other hand, was waiting for the impact. When nothing happened, he rose a corner of his lips. "Dumb ass." He closed his brown, dull, eyes to the delightful sound of his friend dancing around, calling for medical attention.

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"Shut up, it wasn't funny." The black hair boy crossed his arms as his feet swung carelessly off of the bathroom counter.

The counter, itself, was chilly against his thin layered jeans mostly for the fact it was tile. Cold, hard, tile that stretched as far as the eye could see. Little squares, triangles, circles made up the floor while just tiny, miniature, squares made Jayson's seat. The colours were bland. Very bland. Brown, white, black. People knew the designer wasn't the best but neither was the old man's mind. No one could complain though, rich he was; no one said you had to be smart for that. The bath looked marble. A white marble with stainless steal faucet. There was a shower in front of the bath, it was simple, too. Yellow see-through glass and if you ran your hand down it, you would feel the bumps. The toilet? It was between the two hygienic facilities. Plain, yet simple, this is what the boy's called home.

Getting tired of trying to capture the hurt foot, Jackson slapped one of them (he didn't know which) and waited for his friend to settle down. "Ready?" Kneeling at Jayson's feet, he peeked up at him, smiling at the sheer fact he'll never forget that tortured soul's face.

"Ow, ow, ow..." Jayson whined, holding, what looked to be, his left foot; his eyes closed in the "insurmountable" amount of pain.

"Why are you such a baby?" He jerked the foot away, grabbing the ice beside his bent knees As he started to roll up the pant leg. "You're the moron who, stupidly, rammed his foot into a solid wood door." he laughed, not caring about the death glare.

"I forgot, 'kay?" His arms folded, again, his nose high up in the air.

"Sure. You can't use that excuse forever." he rolled his eyes, still carrying that smile.

"Can so." Jayson retorted, shivering to the ice that hit his foot. "Oh my, that's so cold."

Jackson snorted. "What did ya think it would be?"

"I forgot." he repeated in a much higher voice that made his friend look up at him.

"Why am I friends with you?" he turned his attention back to the foot, checking it over as he lifted the ice.

"I dunno." Jayson shrugged, leaning back on his palms while the pain numbed.

Jackson nodded within the foot region. His face lit up with a plan! Yet glancing up to the pathetic one, Jackson chuckled it off as he unrolled the pants leg. "We're done here." He used the counter to stand and a pat on Jayson's thigh to tell him he was ready to stand.

"But..." Jayson sadly pointed to his foot, pouting.

"Get over it!" he patted Jayson's back rather hard before stopping at the doorway to finish off the thought. "Anyway, I'll be in my room."

Stunned, angry, embarrassed, wincing to the throb Jayson scowled at Jackson's back; wishing for nothing better than a black hole to suck him up.... He heard a whistle and the hole only became bigger.

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