Nicky didn’t like being the submissive one. Well, he supposed it was fine when it came down to it—it was just the term “submissive” that bothered him. Yeah, he knew Adam was taller than him. He knew Adam was more experienced than him. And of course, everyone knew that Adam was more outgoing than him. But Nicky felt, sometimes, that it was he, not Adam, who cared more. And that’s what really pissed him off. The fact that Adam could turn around at any moment and end whatever it was between them with a simple, “Nicky, I don’t think this is going to work” or a “Nicky, this is too weird.”

He knew Adam cared about him; their mothers had been best friends since they were twelve. The boys had been raised to like each other, naturally. But not long after Nicky figured out that he liked boys did he figure out that he liked Adam. Adam, eventually, decided to inform Nicky that he liked him, too. Nicky remembered it like it only happened the day before.

They’d been swimming in Adam’s pool. Adam pushed himself up onto the pool deck, his biceps flexing and unflexing as he did so. He shook his head like a dog to rid his light brown hair of excess water. He sat on the edge of the pool, his feet dangling in the water, and he looked straight at Nicky. “Hey, Nick, you’re gay, right?”

Nicky had been taken aback. He hadn’t told anyone; he assumed Adam knew because he was Adam, and Adam simply knew everything. “I guess so.”

“Could you be a little surer, please?”

“Yeah. I mean, yeah, I am.”

“So do you like anyone, then?” Adam’s green eyes looked earnestly down into Nicky’s dark brown ones. You. But Nicky couldn’t say it because he was Nicky, and Nicky simply couldn’t say anything. Adam shook his head. “Nicky,” he reprimanded, “tell me.”

“I…” Nicky’s throat constricted. “You’ll hate me.”

“I will not hate you, dumbass,” Adam said gently.

“You.”

Nicky didn’t need to say anything else, because Adam understood. He stood up before diving back into the water, coming up beside Nicky, and kissing him, full on the mouth. It had been Nicky’s first kiss. He remembered thinking that kissing was not as great as everyone said it was. There was nothing wrong with it, or with Adam; the contact of their lips fused together created a heat so startlingly scorching and so amazingly calm and gentle all at the same time. It was how a kiss was supposed to feel. But Nicky decided simply that he liked hugging better. More contact, for one, and it somehow felt more intimate.

Like hand-holding. Nicky was very much into hand-holding. There were some types of PDA that bothered Nicky greatly, like making out against a wall or a tree, or rolling around on the grass together. Nicky didn’t like to watch people do these things, and he didn’t like to do them himself. But his insides jumped like a schoolgirl jumped rope when he and Adam would sit with their friends at lunch and Adam would just take Nicky’s hand in his and squeeze it, intertwining their fingers, and then letting their joined hands rest on the bench between them. It was less public than other public displays of affection, and it made Nicky feel special. If he was the only one who knew it was happening, Nicky thought, then that meant Adam was doing it only for him, not for anyone else.

And that, Nicky thought, was when it started. The creeping feeling in the pit of his stomach that came when Nicky sensed that he cared about Adam more than Adam cared about him. Nicky hated that feeling. He hated it more than being “submissive,” and he hated it more than PDA’s. He wanted to take the biggest gun he could get his hands on and shoot that feeling to the ground.

Nicky got that feeling quite often. First, there came the overwhelming adoration of Adam, the feeling that told him that Adam was what he’d always needed. And now he had Adam. And for a brief moment, Nicky would be happy. But then the other feeling, the feeling that Nicky wanted to shoot, would come. And Nicky would pull away from Adam and he’d want to cry. A look of concern would come over Adam’s face and he’d put his arm across Nicky’s shoulders and kiss his cheek softly. “Nicky, what’s wrong?”

Nicky would shake his head. “It’s nothing.”

“Why do you always get like this?”

“I said it’s nothing, Adam.”

And Adam would sigh and pull Nicky closer to him, folding the other boy underneath his arm to lean on his chest. He would stroke Nicky’s curly dark hair and say, “You know, someday you’re going to have to tell me what’s bothering you. You’re lucky I’m a pushover today.”

When Adam would leave, Nicky would cry a little bit. Adam said that every time. He was always a pushover. Because he cared about Nicky. Nicky wanted to hit himself for ever thinking otherwise. Of course Adam cared about him. But the problem was that Nicky knew, in the deepest part of his soul, that Nicky still cared more. How could he not? No one could ever love anyone as much as Nicky loved Adam, not even Adam for Nicky. It simply wasn’t possible. Adam could care about Nicky more than he’d cared about anything else in the entire world and Nicky would still care about Adam more.

Their mothers took them on a trip to the beach at Santa Cruz one day. That was when Nicky started having thoughts about being the submissive one. He and Adam sat in the backseat of Adam’s mother’s van while Nicky’s mother sat shotgun beside Adam’s mom. The women chatted loudly, but the boys were quiet. They hadn’t told their mothers about each other, yet. It had been nearly four months.

While the moms were looking for shells by the water’s edge, Adam and Nicky sat quietly beside each other on the beach blanket. “Nicky, I’m through with being a pushover,” Adam finally said. “I want you to tell me right now what’s been bothering you.”

“Nothing’s bothering me.”

“Look, I know it’s weird that I’m… you know… a guy… and you have some weird gay complex… but I’m just saying, Nick, I thought you liked me.”

“I do like you!” Nicky said loudly.

“Then why do you shy away from me? I thought you’d get over it. I mean, it was new, and I get that, but it’s been like, four months, Nick. It’s too old to be new. I don’t want to break up with you, but if that’s what you want to do, then we have to do it. I’m not going to hold you back from doing what you want. I just thought…”

Nicky was fighting tears again. This wasn’t fair! How on earth could Adam be misreading things so severely? “Adam, I love you. That’s not the problem.”

Adam’s face softened. “Then what’s the problem, Nicky?” he gently placed his hand on top of Nicky’s, probably because he knew Nicky liked it.

“You don’t love me as much as I love you.”

“Oh, good lord, Nicholas, I can’t believe you just said that.”

“What?” Nicky said defensively. “It’s true!”

“Nicky, don’t be stupid. I love you. You know that. You have to know that!”

“I…” his heart was fluttering in his chest. This was one of those good moments, Nicky knew. The moments when Adam was Adam, and Adam loved Nicky. But that meant that the truth of it all would come crashing down, soon. “I know that,” he finally said. “But…”

“Don’t give me that bullshit,” Adam said fiercely. “I don’t wanna hear your bullshit. If you love me and I love you, I don’t see why we’re fighting at all.”

“We’re not fighting. I’m telling you the truth and you can’t even see it in front of your own face.”

“God, Nicky, what do I have to do?”

“What?”

“What do I have to do to make you believe that I love you more than anything in the world?”

Nicky’s lip quivered. He’d known that. Of course he’d known that. But the way Adam said it, all straight-out and earnest like that… it made Nicky want to cry. Well. He was a very emotional person. “Just say it again,” he whispered. “One more time.

“Goddammit, Nicky, you think this is Brokeback Mountain or something? You think I’m afraid of being in love with you? ’Cause I’m not. I’d tell everyone. And they wouldn’t hurt me, fuck that. This is the fucking twenty-first century. We live in fucking San Francisco. Who’s going to stop us, huh, Nicky?” Adam took both of Nicky’s hands in his and looked him evenly in the eyes. “I love you.” He said. “I might not say it a lot, but you could've told me you were gonna be a goddamn chick about it. I just… I didn’t think you cared that much about what I thought. I thought you just knew, didn’t need to be told.”

“Adam, everyone needs to be told they’re loved.”

“Then how come you don’t tell me?”

Nicky hesitated. “I don’t know. I should. I’m just… scared.”

“Of what? Of me?” Adam looked almost frightened that Nicky would think something like that.

“No! Of course not. Just of you not caring about me anymore.”

“Goddammit, Nicky. I don’t care that we’re barely seventeen. I don’t care that you’re my mom’s best friend’s son. I don’t care that you’re a boy, and I don’t care that you act like a girl sometimes. I don’t care that you cry at dumb movies, and I don’t care that you don’t like chunky peanut butter. See, Nick? I don’t care about a lot of things. But you can’t ever tell me that I don’t care about you.”

Yeah, about Nicky acting like a girl sometimes—he burst into tears and hugged Adam tightly. Adam’s warmth around him was all he needed then. “A-Adam,” he murmured shakily.

“Yeah, Nicky?”

“I love you.”

Nicky felt Adam smile into his hair. “Love you, too.”

Much later, as they were packing up their car to drive back home, Nicky’s mom said, “You know, you guys, we were actually going to wait until you told us.”

“But,” Adam’s mom continued airily, “since you’re all about showing off your little relationship in public, we figured it was okay to comment.”

Adam gave a jerk of his shoulders as if to say, “So, comment already.” Nicky just stood there, arms crossed and eyebrows raised.

Nicky’s mom just shrugged and said, “Just don’t break each other’s hearts.”

“And don’t get pregnant,” Adam’s mom said.

Nicky, his mother, and Adam all exchanged looks with each other. “She’s trying to be funny,” Nicky’s mother whispered. “Humor her.”

“Ahahahaha,” said Adam. “Okay. Can we go home now?”

In the back seat of the car, halfway back to San Francisco, Adam fell asleep on Nicky’s shoulder. Nicky was going to die of cliché, but then he realized he didn’t actually care. His index and middle fingers were gripped tightly in Adam’s hand on their laps. And an overwhelming feeling enveloped Nicky. It wasn’t bad, though. It was… strange. Being the submissive one usually entails being vulnerable—being the one who has to be taken care of. But in sleep, Adam was innocent; he was vulnerable. So Nicky got to be the strong one for once. As Adam’s head lay on his shoulder, Nicky looked out the window at the darkening sky, and the lights from other cars on the freeway. He felt important. He realized that this was what being equals felt like: Sometimes Adam was the dominant one, for sure. But right now, it was Nicky. He was taking care of Adam.

Nicky turned to look at the sleeping boy next to him, examined his young-looking face. He truly was perfect, wasn’t he? Nicky rubbed his thumb absently across Adam’s hand. When Adam woke up, Nicky knew he would have to be the submissive one again. But he didn’t mind that thought much. He looked back out the window. When Adam woke up, Nicky wouldn’t mind being protected by him. That’s what you did when you loved someone: You let them protect you. And then you turned around and protected them right back. “I love you,” Nicky whispered, almost silently, into Adam’s hair.

And when Adam woke up, Nicky knew he’d get an “I love you” right back.

A/N: So are you going to die of fluff? I almost did. I really like them, though. I don't know. They're so much more... typical-slash-story-y, but still. I can't help it. They just wouldn't leave my mind alone. And once the name Nicky assulted my head, I knew I was gone. Because really, what's cuter than Nicky??? But you know. Review, please?