"Damn it. I love him but why is he so fucking frustrating?" Dirk thought to himself as English began to shut down yet again. He knew men technically couldn't get periods, but this whole over-emotional-car-wreck mode was popping up regularly once a month. Why couldn't he just wrap his precious little head around it?

And so, yet again, Dirk silenced his thoughts and consoled Jake playing the role of "straight best friend". It got harder every break up, every time Jake came to him crying wondering if he was incapable of love. All Dirk wanted to do was kiss his forehead, pull him onto his lap, and whisper sweet nothings into his ear until he forgot what pain was. Alas, he couldn't, because his best friend and love of his life was entirely convinced he was straight.

Jake was up to his fifth break up. It happened after his first time kissing any girl. He'd say he just didn't feel anything. "Of course you don't doofus. YOU ARE GAY," Dirk would think, every single damn time it happened.

Obviously, he was nothing but supportive through Jake's first break up saying how "it must've been her not him," and that he would "find the right girl eventually". It was the third break up when Dirk realized that wasn't the case. But why couldn't Jake?

Jake came from a perfectly nice family. They weren't homophobic and he'd known about homosexuality from a young age. Nothing about this concept was new, yet somehow Jake just couldn't wrap his pretty little head around it.

And so, Dirk was now waiting by his door for his just friend to show up so that he could become a shoulder to cry on for the fifth time. Noting that it was raining he even had a towel in his hands to offer because he was just that fucking great. Jake could even use his feelings as a doormat to wipe his feet.

Suddenly the knock came. Dirk opened the door and there he was. Five feet and ten inches of soaking wet glory dripping attractiveness. Said glory was also a sobbing mess.

Unable to control himself for a second, Dirk pulled him into an embrace. Shit, he hated seeing Jake cry. Quickly letting go he handed over the towel.

"Thanks mate. You really are the best friend I could ever have."

"No problem" said Dirk, all nonchalance. Meanwhile he was internally having to fight every instinct he had.

The two walked over to the coach where Dirk would get to hear the same story for the fifth time. The girl, the setting, and the exact details changed from telling to telling but it was always the same problem.

"...and then of course she started crying, why wouldn't she? She has every right. She didn't sign up to date some unlovable monster! I had to do it. She said it was so soon, why couldn't we try, but I couldn't just keep stringing her along! She's probably still crying. Bollocks! I'm such a piece of shit!"

Dirk intervened there, "You are not."

"Yes I am!"

"You're being melodramatic."

But Jake was too swept up in his emotional shitstorm for the comment to register, "I am, I am, I am. Why? Why do I do this to myself? I'm so messed up. Why do I even try?"

Jake continued on and Dirk couldn't control himself anymore. Seeing Jake like this was the same as being stabbed. He slowly drew the weeping boy to his chest. Jake didn't even notice. He kept up his emotional tirade. This wasn't enough; Jake claimed to be incapable of love but he was loved. He was so, so loved. So slowly, gingerly Dirk leaned forward and kissed his tear stained cheek.

This stopped him. "Dirk? What-"

"Shhhhh…" was all he said, and kissed his cheek again.

"But, Dirk-"

Dirk kissed him on the lips this time. Jake was silent. Then, tentatively, he kissed Dirk back. And the strangest thing happened:

He felt something.