A/N: Had a very strange idea floating around in my mind...hence this monster, originally planned as a one-shot, then expanded to a two-part piece. But why not experiment? Re-imagining Steven and Wallace as high-school-ers and roommates...well, enjoy. If you can. It's written from Steven's POV (because I feel it slightly easier, all things considered).

Damn him. Damn his smile, damn his eyes, damn his face. Damn the fact that he's so brilliant.

And damn the fact that I bloody care.

It goes back a long, long way. Too long, I reckon.

But I suppose I'll have to start somewhere. Probably the winter of 10th grade. That was when the worst of it happened...

...

We collapsed into a fit of laughter as soon as we got to our room. "Can you believe it?" I exclaimed.

He chuckled. "Morty's face!"

"And the stand-up act - as brilliant as ever!"

"Who knows what Lenora thinks when she finds out about what the girls did!"

We lapsed into another series of giggles. Lord, it must have been the best end-of-winter-term parties. All with excellent friends, some who'd unfortunately be leaving us. Still, it had been a wonderful night, a memorable night, a night I would have liked to prolong if not for the exhaustion - mixed with exhilaration - that was killing me.

"Good night, Steven," my best friend said.

"'Night, Wallace," I replied as I turned off the lights and slipped into bed.

I shivered. Another damn cold night in this endless winter. Quietly, I pushed off the covers, took one stride to cover the distance between Wallace's bed and and mine, and slipped under his covers. We always used to do that, ever since we were little kids, curling up side by side when the weather turned freezing.

I propped myself up on my elbows to gaze at his beautiful face. In the pale moonlight filtering through the slits in the curtains, his skin was smooth and silky and serene, with his delicate eyelids shielding a pair of mesmerising turquoise eyes. Eyes, I thought jealously, even possessively, that so many of our female classmates fell in love with. Yet how many of them had seen, beyond the unforgettable exterior, seas upon seas of emotion, of changing tides, of unique ripples that even I could only witness - throughout us growing up together - on the rare occasion? Not even Winona had seen that. That, was at least something I could feel proud of.

Stop it, a small voice in my head whispered. Stop thinking like that. Stop thinking of him that way. You know he's...he's not like you. He won't think your way. Besides, he already has a girlfriend. Anyway, you know what most people think about it. They don't like it. They think it's strange and unnatural.

What do you know about what I'm thinking? I challenged the little voice. In reality, we all knew too well.

I sighed, turning away and settling precariously on the edge of the mattress. I didn't think I could stay staring at his face for much longer. Not just because I didn't trust my mind to stop when it was appropriate, but also because it could become...well, problematic if I went on pondering like that.

I lay like that for what seemed like hours, somehow feeling incredibly tense. Strange. I usually just dropped off almost immediately after my head hit the pillow; even when I sneaked into his bed or vice versa, it took longer than usual, but still, not quite so long. Something was a bit odd tonight. And I could tell that he hadn't fallen asleep either - his breathing was relatively light and quick, definitely not that of a person fast asleep.

I shifted uncomfortably. The silence, for some reason, was killing me. I didn't want to move too much, knowing full well how awful it could be sharing a bed with a restless person (and besides I was sure I would hear no end of it from Wallace afterwards). All the same, everything felt incredibly awkward. I didn't know why. What was it, anyway?

I twisted around, propping myself back up with my elbows. What happened next, or why it happened, I'm not sure. It was all a blur. Maybe it was the tension which was murdering my mind, or the remaining exhilaration from the party, or just a random burst of adrenaline - I didn't know. Somehow, I didn't know. Perhaps I didn't want to know.

I leaned over and gently kissed him.

His eyes flew open. "W-what was that?"

I swallowed hard as any and all exhilaration dried up. "Nothing," I muttered, turning away and settling on the edge of the bed, back towards him. Oh God, oh God. How could I...oh God, it was just stupid. I could well have just died...

Thank God, he stayed silent, instead turning away from me to face the wall. God knows, how much I would given to know what he was thinking then.

That was the longest night I'd ever had to endure in my life.

For some reason, I'm better at describing and portraying emotions rather than actions. Oh well. Second part shall be uploaded as soon as I finish writing it.