My name is John Egbert and I am NOT a homosexual. I am in NO way, shape, or form gay. I most definitely do NOT find any male attractive, but oh my fucking GOD Dave is one of THE most adorable things I've ever encountered. I love the way his beautiful blonde, almost white, hair naturally falls in the most perfect way, and those faint, barely noticeable, freckles speckled across his cheeks and shoulders, and how he sometimes slips into his Texan accent that he tries so hard to suppress, how that accent comes out strongly whenever he gets worked up, or once even drunk, and how his cheeks become dusted with a faint shade of pink whenever I call him out on that beautiful accent, or when I ask him to repeat a word I know he can't say without his accent. Texan accents were never all that attractive, but with Dave it's different. When its Dave's accent its cute and endearing. I could listen to his accent all fucking day. I could sit there and just watch those pail, pink lips of his move to form each word. I could listen to his soft, boyish voice, and wait to hear the accent he tries to hide but comes out when he says certain words. It's like an Easter egg hunt, and those words are the eggs.

I know he hates his accent, but I'm crazy for it. That and his skin, specifically his freckles. I love freckles. Especially his freckles. They compliment his marvelous porcelain skin beautifully. They're faint, but I can definitely see them. The ones on his shoulders are more noticeable then the ones on his cheeks. I love when it gets hot in Texas, because that means Dave will be wearing a tank-top when we Skype, and I'll be able to see those freckles. Once the air-conditioning in his apartment broke and he Skyped me shirtless. Oh my god it was beautiful. His skin was without flaw. It looked so smooth, so perfect. He wasn't all that muscular, in fact he had the tiniest figure in the world, but I like it that way. In fact I love it.

I wonder how that skin would feel under my fingertips, how he would shiver beneath my touch, how those pail, pink lips would feel against mine, and what that beautiful voice would sound like moaning my na- shit no. Nope, I was not just imagining that. Hell no, I did not just get a boner, because I am NOT gay! Nope, I am for sure not thinking about how his face would contort in pleasure as I touch him, and the sound of him moaning till he's hoarse. I guarantee I am not jerking off to the thought of his tight ass around my shaft, as he moans my name, begging me for more, and clawing at my back. I am not groaning to the idea of him trying so desperately to hold back his moans by biting his lip, but failing miserably. I certainly did not just cum because I was imagining the way his ass would clench around my shaft when he came moaning my name.

Shit, who am I kidding? I just fucking came to the thought of fucking my best friend. God, what I'd do for that to have been the real thing. I'm John Egbert and guess fucking what I AM a homosexual. I AM in every way, shape, and form gay. I most definitely DO find a male attractive. That male is Dave-fucking-Strider and I would tap that ass any day of the week. Today I am finally admitting to myself that I am gay for my best friend. I would fuck him, no joke, fuck him, and regret absolutely nothing because all I want to do, see, hear, and feel is him. I've never seen anything more adorable then that boy and apparently everything's cuter in Texas right now, especially him.

I want him in my bed NOW, as I stand here washing my hands I can feel myself getting hard again. I walk back to my room with a towel in my slowly drying hands, still thinking of that perfect piece of Strider ass, and oh speak of the devil. He's calling me through Skype again. I answer the call and there on the computer screen pops up the most adorable boy in the world. His lips are slightly curved up into a small smile (god I love it when he smiles), and he's wearing a tank-top, meaning I can see those beautiful freckles on his shoulders. Of course he's still wearing those god forsaken shades. I'd give anything to see those eyes. Why the fuck did I even get him those? I bet his eyes are beautiful and perfect, just like everything else about him. "Sup Egderp," he says smoothly. I can't help but smile at the sound of his voice. "Nothing really just hanging around! How about you?" I ask. "Just packing, you do realize I'm headin up there tomorrow right?" he asks, and there they are, those special words that revel that beautiful accent. "Do I realize what now?" I ask, and I can feel my smile slipping to a smirk as he repeats himself. "I'm sorry what?" I ask again. "I said I'm headi-," he cuts himself off when he realizes I'm teasing him. His cheeks dust themselves pink as he mumbles, "you're an ass," and looks away.

"Dave, I'm just messing with you, besides your accent isn't that bad, I think it's cute," I say. "You what?" he asks, and I've never seen his cheeks in such a dark shade of red, and I can feel myself grow hard as I stare at him and imagine his face turning that color while he moans beneath me. I can feel the blood rush to my cheeks as I realize what I just said, and thought of. "I mean, like on girls and shit," I say as I scratch the back of my neck nervously, "I mean you sound cute too! I just mean I like it." God that certainly didn't make it any better! The blush has now spread from his cheeks to the tips of his ears, holy crap that's cute. He's not saying anything, but there's the smallest bit of a smile showing through. I want to see what his eyes look like when he's like this.

"Take off your shades," I demand as my blush dies down and my smile returns. "What?" he asks as he looks back at me and I can tell he's confused. "Take off your shade. Please, I wanna see your eyes," I explain and his whole face, and even his neck, turns bright red. That's so fucking cute I can't even right now. "I-I, umm," he's stuttering. This is the first time he's acted like this around me, and I wouldn't mind seeing him get flustered like this more often. "Please?" I ask again and his lips part ever so slightly. He seems as if he wants to say something, but can't form the words. He looks away again, and mumbles something I can't quite understand. "What?" I ask. "I'll show you tomorrow when we meet in person," He answers and my heart skips more than just a beat, "I'll be arriving around 9:30 in the mornin." "9:30 in the what," I ask teasingly. "Mornin Egbutt, don't be late, bye, see you tomorrow," he states and I just wave and hang up. I really wish it was tomorrow already. I can't wait till tomorrow. I'll get to see him, in person. Maybe, just maybe, I can make him mine during his summer long visit.