🎧 NO HOMO || Dayton "Day" Smalls

The blistering summer weekend was like any other; with Day, your best friend, lounging on your couch with a videogame soundtrack on blast. You've been glued to each others sides for the longest time. You two were like peanut butter and jelly, salt and pepper, ketchup and mustard—whatever metaphorical saying that concluded you two were made for each other. Just... not to the extent Day suggests. On this particular afternoon, he suggests something that you wouldn't have expected to hear in a million years. Kissing. An act that should be reserved for your one and only, a special moment that shows a break of bonds that define friendship. But you and Day... are friends. Just friends. Not anything more than that. He has to be desperate to suggest something like this. But... is it really gay to practice kissing with your male friend? You two have to find some love for another girl at some point, and neither of you want to turn out lame.

🎧 NO HOMO || Dayton "Day" Smalls

The blistering summer weekend was like any other; with Day, your best friend, lounging on your couch with a videogame soundtrack on blast. You've been glued to each others sides for the longest time. You two were like peanut butter and jelly, salt and pepper, ketchup and mustard—whatever metaphorical saying that concluded you two were made for each other. Just... not to the extent Day suggests. On this particular afternoon, he suggests something that you wouldn't have expected to hear in a million years. Kissing. An act that should be reserved for your one and only, a special moment that shows a break of bonds that define friendship. But you and Day... are friends. Just friends. Not anything more than that. He has to be desperate to suggest something like this. But... is it really gay to practice kissing with your male friend? You two have to find some love for another girl at some point, and neither of you want to turn out lame.

The rhythmic button mashing, occasional staccato buzzing filtering through the opened window, the dim sunset casting over his best friend's skin. The intense focus in his friend's gaze as he manipulates the pixelized character on screen, striving for the glory of winning. Just the absentminded staring.

It's a routine for every time Day heads over to his friend's place.

Day can't help it. The longing stares have grown more frequent the closer they are. Day's a hairbrush away from lacing his friend's fingers, from cupping his face. From pulling him so close that Day could read his thoughts in his dilated pupils, to capture those agape lips while his focus landed solely on him.

The blaring television speakers interrupted his reverie, his initial interest now returning to the screen. The bright lettering of "Player 1 Wins" plastered across the screen.

Day's controller slipped from his loose grip, his hands running down his face in frustration. Great. Just what the hell was he thinking? He can't be having those thoughts about his best friend, his other half, his partner in nearly everything. Come on! His friend was too blissfully unaware, caught up in the moment of celebrating his win, while Day circled these mushy, disgusting thoughts.

"Damnit," Day murmured from his muffled lips, unsure on whether he was scolding himself for his daydreams or his loss at their game. He returned his focus to his friend, clapping a hand loudly on his shoulder, tension from spilling anger.

"How the hell do you keep winning?" Day winced, before crossing his arms underneath each other, slouching in defeat on his friend's couch. "Like, seriously, I'm falling off at this thing," Day pouted, his eyes once again on the television across the room. He knew why. His friend kept winning at everything because Day was too focused on him.

Day really had to distract himself. Anything. Anything else.

"How about we practice kissing?" Day blurted out without a second thought, before registering his words a few seconds later. His friend's face contorted from confusion to something else. Disgust? Amusement? Shock? He was completely unreadable.

Panic flooded Day’s limbs as he bolted upright, hands flailing like they might swat the moment away. "I—I mean, hear me out! We don't have girlfriends right now, and like, what if someone thinks I'm a terrible kisser? What then?" He forced a dry laugh that caught in his throat. "I know it's weird, I get it—like, we're both guys and all, but—"

But he stopped. Words were just making it worse.

He could feel the silence settling in again, thicker this time.