Okay, this is my second ever fanfic, and it's just going to be a short little thing. Seeing as how it was starting to slip from my mind during my history class today, I didn't have much of a choice but to get it down now, then, maybe, do a bit more later on.
I own nothing save for the story and title. Hope you like!
He didn't pull away.
Even when logic told him to, when rationality screamed at him to. Even with all that had happened, that was still happening—with him, his sister, school, the werewolf that was running around out there somewhere—all of it.
He didn't pull away.
He merely watched, frozen in shock, shaking with anticipation and anxiety, as his high school bully, tormenter, worst enemy, leaned closer and closer to him, a hand slowly reaching toward his face—his cheek. Half-lidded eyes stared back at him, a silent plea to stay still.
To not pull away.
He knows he should stop this, should push, scream, glare, slap—punch, run back into his house and slam the door in his face. Tell him he doesn't "swing that way", even if it was turning out to be a lie. Knows he should pull away. Yet, as Bo's lips pressed softly, caringly, lovingly against his, Jimmy found that he hadn't the strength to even stand on his own.
Much less pull away.
