Hobie’s Long Awaited POV
Hobie has been having fun at his new school.
Not actually in the school itself- it was an elitist shit hole- but the people there were alright.
Most of them.
Contrary to popular belief, he’s not daft. He feels the stares from people, he just doesn’t care enough to ever acknowledge them. Unfortunately, he’s become accustomed to the way he’s treated. Either like a nuisance that just takes up too much space to be ignored or like an exotic creature; or god forbid an idiot that doesn’t know up from down. He hates those berks.
So, when some bloke is staring at him in a school bathroom, he’s immediately on guard. He doesn’t make himself hostile, but makes himself take up more room than usual. He asks the dude what the hell he wants, before finding out he was just staring at the box of chips and blankets he always sets up for these particular moments. Or more like, that was the excuse he came up with.
That was the punks mindset in the beginning atleast. Turns out this bloke wasn’t so bad (his name was Miles) and was even cool. He also didn’t like skinny Cheetos; he made that very clear.
They rabbited for a little before they both had to leave. Hobie wouldn’t have minded staying longer to talk more but alas, the guy looked like he was gonna have a panic attack after skipping only one class. If he said anything he bets Miles would’ve never talked to him again.
Therefore, he waits. He doesn’t actively look for him, but he keeps an eye out. And eventually it works out, with them meeting exactly a week later at the exact same time if not a bit later. They don’t talk for long, but Hobie manages to snag his dog’s number. He doesn’t exactly use his phone that much, but he certainly started to once he got Miles’s number.
And after a while, he started to take a liking to him. A non-platonic one. Which isn’t anything new in the sexuality sense, he’s known he’s liked blokes since he was a little basin. (regardless of what his mother tried to shove into his head.) But unlike now, they’ve never reciprocated. At all.
…It seemed to good to be true.
Miles was too good to be true.
Hobie wasn’t blind, he saw the signs, the tones, the touches. None of which that felt platonic. His suspicions were just confirmed when the boy awkwardly invited him to an ice cream parlor.
But still, everything felt too good. He was just too happy.
He felt an unexplainable feeling of dread in his gut everytime they so much as touched, like his body was waiting for the other shoe to drop. For him to go too far and scare off this wonderful cute boy; or worst, disgust him.
However, the touches also came with butterflies in his stomach and an unexplainable warm feeling; a pro that could outway any con.
So, he kept on getting as close to him as possible. It’s also around that time that he realizes he might’ve had an interest in him from the start, or atleast always thought he was attractive. He’s never that touchy with people, and definitely didn’t like to see anyone else smile that bad. (Seriously, his smile should be captured on photo and printed in a museum; but also not because no one should try to profit off something so bright and wonderful.)
And everytime things escalated, the more they leveled up, the closer they got, Hobie let it happen. Both excited, and terrified. It confused him, he was happy to be around Miles- that much was obvious- but why was he so scared? He’s been rejected before, many times. From parents, to friends, to crushes, to even people that don’t know him on the street. Why does Miles matter so much?
…
He knows why, deep down. He knows it’s because of just how different he is. How he treats Hobie like a normal person- or better yet- like more than just a person. Like he’s actually someone worth liking. It makes him want to giggle like school girl and also scream and warn Miles. Because, the one thing that everyone else hates about him but Miles likes is that he’s different.
But, he’s not.
He’s not special. He’s not the nonchalant dude that purposely held the boys hand to point at that ice cream shop with some nasty ice cream. He’s not as cool as he thinks he is. And that terrifies him.
What will he do once he realizes that Hobie isn’t what he thinks he is? That he’s actually too good to be true?
The worst part is, it’s starting to affect him. Outwardly. Just today, when he was supposed to be enjoying some time with the bloke and try to not eat ice, he practically snapped at him and said he put him on a pedestal and that he needs to stop. Stop! As if he wanted him to stop anything he does!
The way his face fell when he said it just made everything ten times worst. He just wanted to run away in the moment. This was it. The moment he had feared so much ever since he’s met this boy. He showed his true colors, even a semblance of weakness, and now Miles will run off. And he did.
The feeling of him letting go of his hand hurt more than any feeling of dread his gut could.
He fucked up.