AN: This is kinda dedicated to A Touch of Insanity, but not really. I didn't write it for her, but it would be a lot more smutty if it wasn't for her. OOOO!!! IT'S YOUR BIRTHDAY PRESENT DARLING! Because according to Amanda a picture of us on the fucking Eiffel Tower isn't good enough. So happy birthday darling!

Kent curled up on the sofa, snuggling closer to Mark. Not that Mark noticed. Football kind of did that to him. Mark would start to watch a game, and then not resurface until it was over. Or if Kent unplugged the TV, as he sometimes did. Most of the time he just enjoyed the uninterrupted Mark-staring time.

Mark sighed contentedly. Football was nice. So was Kent, not that he would ever say anything. Kent balanced him perfectly. Mark was tall, Kent was average. Mark was tan, Kent was pale, Mark played football, Kent played violin. They balanced each other, and that was that. No one ever asked why they were friends, because it just seemed logical. They had been friends since first grade when Mark pushed Kent in the sandbox on the playground. Kent poured his chocolate milk on Mark the next day. Ever since then they had been inseparable, Kent watching all of Mark's football games, Mark going to all of Kent's concerts.

They were now juniors in high school, almost the rulers. They would be rulers as seniors of their specific groups. Mark of course would be captain of the Varsity Football team, a position only awarded to seniors. Kent would be Concert Master, or the violin that sat at the front and played an A at the beginning so everyone could check their tuning.

For right now though, they just laid on Mark’s couch in his attic bedroom and watched the TV announcer spout random facts about football in between announcing the plays. Kent quickly grew bored and started playing with the frayed hem of his T shirt. Finally a commercial came on and Mark looked down at Kent, who was laying half on top of him. Kent’s strawberry blonde hair was falling in his eyes, on top of his glasses. He seemed to be intent on picking his shirt apart thread by thread.

“Kent?” Mark asked.

“Huh, yeah?”

“What the hell are you doing?” he asked, referring to his shirt unraveling.

“Oh, uh, I got bored,” Kent admitted sheepishly.

“Nice. You don’t have to be here, you know,” Mark pointed out. Kent’s stomach twisted. Did Mark not want him there?

“Do you want me to leave so you can jack off to the sweaty men running around in too-tight pants?” Kent joked.

“Oh damn, you caught me!” Mark laughed. “No, dude. Don’t leave! You are the light of my life!” He shifted out from under Kent and got down on one knee in front of the couch, as if to propose. “Kent, I promise not to jerk off to the sweaty sexy man beasts on my TV, just don’t leave me!” Kent laughed.

“Oh Mark, how could I ever leave you? Your face brightens my day! Your smile is the only reason I get up in the morning!” Kent shivered internally at how true those words were, even though they were only joking. Courtney burst into the room just then.

“Will you two weirdos cut it out?” she screamed at us. “I have a lot of homework!”

“Come on Basketball-Court, it’s the hols! Relax! That paper isn’t due for another two weeks! Neither is the oral presentation, the Spanish paper, the World Geography powerpoint, or the college application essays!” Kent laughed, teasing her.

“Ugh! Shut up, Kenton!” she yelled, using his full name. Kent shuddered and hid behind Mark.

“Mark, save me! Save your Damsel in Distress! Save me from the Wicked Witch of the West!” Kent gasped. Courtney (or as Kent liked to call her Basketball-Court) pulled her pencil out from behind her ear and threw it at them.

“Ahh! Kent! She’s hurling spells at us! Quick, AVADA KEDAVRA!” Mark screamed.

“You guys are such geeks!” she growled in frustration. Mark gasped at his twin.

“Take that back, you fiend! I only know about that because of that dork!” he exclaimed, pointing at me. I stepped forwards.

“I accept the title of Dork King. Now, as King, my first act will be to BANISH BASKETBALL-COURT!” I screamed, pointing at the door. Just then commercials ended and Mark squealed.

“Kent! They’re back on! That was a horrible play right before the commercial break, you stupid oaf!” he screamed at the screen. Courtney rolled her eyes and stomped out of the room and down the stairs. Courtney and Mark were twins, both with curly dark brown hair and a sprinkling of freckles and deep chocolaty eyes that Kent had to remind himself not to get lost in. Marks, not Courtney’s. Courtney was like a sister to Kent, because he was over at the McDavis household so much. He had a whole wardrobe over there, because half the time after school they would end up at Mark’s house watching football and doing homework. Courtney was always there too, most of the time studying with her studyaholic friends. Somehow she did manage to keep a boyfriend too, thought why anyone would be interested in Basketball-Court Kent didn’t know.

Mark vaulted over the edge of the sofa when the commercial break ended, landing on his side on the overstuffed green couch. Kent soon followed, this time instead of laying on top of Mark, he sat down leaning against the couch about where Mark’s chest was, so he could glance down and see Kent’s straight reddish-blonde hair covering his amazing brain. Really, Kent’s head was probably so huge Mark would get lost in it. He could remember anything. Mark was really surprised sometimes when Kent could spout off random facts about football that Mark had forgotten. Involuntarily, Mark’s hand drifted down until it was resting on the sofa right behind Kent’s head. Softly, he reached forwards and brushed his hair. Ooo! Soft like he’d imagined. Soft and shiny and fluttery and light. Hmm, wonder what it would feel like if Kent’s hair was on his…never mind. Damnit, now Mark was getting hard. It was really embarrassing, getting hard for your best friend. His mind started to wander, even though the football game was on.

Kent’s lips under his, molding to his. Soft and warm. “Kent,” he moans. Kent grins and slips his hands under Mark’s pants, ghosting over his cock.

Mark sat bolt upright, startling Kent. That was not the time for that fantasy! Not! Kent turned around quickly, a little flushed.

“Mark? What’s wrong?” Kent asked, his eyes worried. His eyes were all worried, and his lips were so pink and his hair was falling on his face and his glasses made him look so fucking delectable and Mark fought to resist the urge to lean down and kiss him breathless.

“Uh, nothing,” he stammered, dropping his arm as casually as he could to cover the bulge in his jeans. Thankfully Kent didn’t press the matter and turned back around. Mark scowled and pressed the heel of his hand to his crotch, trying to soothe the ache. He made the mistake of looking down at Kent’s head again, and when he saw his pretty red hair his hard on came back with a vengeance. Why now? He’d always satisfied it before! Why couldn’t it be nice today? But no, Kent just had to have pretty strawberry blonde hair that always seemed to get Mark excited and he had to sit right there and distract Mark from the game.

“Uh, Mark?” Kent asked, looking at him questioningly.

“Yeah Kent?” he replied, trying to hold in his blush.

“Uh, it’s a commercial break. What’s wrong, dude? Girl problems?” Girl problems? Hardly. More like the problem with it not being a girl.

“Nah, just feel a little under the weather. You know how it is. Didn’t have such a hot day at school the other day.” Kent nodded understandingly.

“Yes, SAD was hard on us all.”

“SAD?” Mark said questioningly.

“Singles Awareness Day.”

“Ah. Yes, the dreaded Hallmark Holiday where we are expected to buy chocolate and teddy bears and dead plants for people, specifically girls.” Woah. Mark sounding bitter about girls? This was the first Kent had heard of it. And Kent was Mark’s best friend. If Mark wasn’t in to girls, Kent would have been the first to know, right?

“Mark?” Kent asked.

“Yeah?”

“Do you like girls?” he asked, holding his breath. This question was life or death, and he was asking it so bluntly.

Mark held his breath for a moment. What should he say? No, I don’t like girls, but I don’t like boys either. I think I’m Kent-sexual. Yeah, great idea.

“Uh, I dunno. I don’t really care, y’know?” Kent nodded. So Mark had avoided answering the question. Did that mean he was gay? Kent sure as hell didn’t know. Kent stared straight ahead of him, sorting through everything. One step at a time. So Kent wouldn’t admit his sexuality. What did that mean? He was ashamed? He thought Kent would laugh or be disgusted? So he was afraid of rejection. Okay, that’s a common human fear. Earlier, when Mark sat up and wouldn’t tell Kent what was wrong. What was up then? They had been friends since first grade. Mark should have known Kent would be able to tell he was lying. Kent thought back. Was there anything unusual? Mark had looked a bit flushed, but that might have been from the game. Wait, his arm! He’d moved it, casually, but definitely consciously. He was…oh. Must have been the game.

Mark looked down at Kent’s head as he mulled things over. He knew Kent would probably discover the reason he had been acting so strangely. Being the smarty he was, he would know, and be disgusted with Mark. He shuddered at the though. Tears pricked the backs of his eyes. Without an explanation to Kent he stood up and ran into the bathroom. He turned the faucet on super cold and splashed his face, shivering. I will not cry, I will not cry, he chanted over and over again in his head. He dried his face and stared at himself in the mirror. Boring brown eyes stared back at him. Longish dark brown hair curled in his face. He sighed and ran his tongue over his teeth. His teeth were the only things on his face he actually liked. They were white and perfect and he had never even had braces. Kent always complained about how unfair it was that Mark was perfect. Mark always snorted and said that he wasn’t perfect at all. Honestly, he was barely passing most his classes, and only then because Kent had them too and helped him. A soft knock on the door interrupted his train of thought.

“Mark?” Kent asked softly. Mark’s eyes flicked to the door and back. Good, he’d locked the door. Maybe if he was just quiet Kent would go away and they could forget today ever happened. And yet, nothing much out of the ordinary had happened. Not that Mark wouldn’t have given anything for something to happen. Anything.

“Mark, I know you’re in there. Being quiet won’t work, I know you. Mark McDavis, get you ass out here!” he ordered. “I am not going away until you tell me what’s got your cock in a knot.” Mark stuck his head out the door.

“My cock in a knot?”

“Yeah, like panties in a twist, but it’s modern, and you’re a guy, so you’ve got your cock in a knot. Besides, got your attention, didn’t it?” Kent grinned. Mark grumbled and walked out to sit on the couch. Kent turned the TV off and sat cross-legged on the opposite end of the couch from Mark.

“So, what’s on your mind?”

“Uh.” Where to begin? I love you? I want you? Specifically, I want to stick my cock in your ass? Uh, no thank you. Mark was one of those people who liked having said cock. Call him a rebel.

“Come on Mark, I’m your best friend. Whatever you say, I won’t care.” Oh, but that’s just the problem. If you don’t care, I would be crushed. If you do care, it would be because you would be disgusted, and I would be crushed. So you see, I can’t tell you, because either way, I get crushed. And I just couldn’t bear it.

“Mark, you really have got to get out of that habit,” Kent said softly.

“What?” Mark asked, with a sinking feeling he knew what Kent was talking about.

“You know what. And who knows, I might just care and you wouldn’t be crushed,” Kent said softly, leaning forwards. He was talking really quietly now.

“I, I,” the words died on Mark’s lips. He ran his tongue over them, feeling the cracked skin. “Kent,” he tried again. “I think I’m-”

“Hey boys, are you hungry?” Mark’s mom busted in, holding a laundry basket with folded clothes. Kent jumped back, like he had been doing something bad by leaning forwards. “Kent? What’s wrong darling? Do you have a fever? You look a bit flushed.” Kent shook his head and blushed a bit more.

“No, I’m fine, Mrs. McDavis.”

“And no mom, we’re not hungry,” Kent glanced over at him out of the corner of his eye. She looked suspiciously from Kent to Mark and back to Kent.

“Are you sure you boys are alright?” she asked again.

“Mom, I thought I asked you to knock before you came in?” Mark asked. His mother nodded sadly.

“Alright then. Mark, here’s your clothes. Oh, and I think there’s a shirt or two that belong to Kent.” Mark sighed when she left. Kent grinned.

“That was awkward,” he remarked.

“Yeah,” Mark breathed.

“Anyway,” Kent said. “You were about to say something? That I might or might not care about? Mark blushed.

“Sounds weird when you say it like that,” he said softly.

“You started off bad. ‘I, uh, I think’,” Kent mocked.

“Shut up!” Mark said, pushing Kent off the couch. He wasn’t really mad, he just needed something to do that wasn’t confess his undying love for his best friend. And so with all the hormones running rampage all over his body (yes, even there) he decided the best thing to do would be to start wrestling with Kent.

All the air rushed out of Kent’s lungs when he hit the floor flat on his back. It took him a second to process that Mark had pushed him off, and was now sitting on him. Kent tried to roll to get out from underneath, but just managed to shake Mark off. Mark fell to the side and Kent jumped on top of him, punching him in the shoulder. Mark swung at Kent’s head, but only managed to knock off Kent’s glasses.

“My glasses!” Kent cried as he felt them fly off his face. As he groped around blindly for him, Mark pinned him to the ground by his shoulders. “Mark! Mark I can’t see! That’s not fair! Mark! Are you even listening?” As a matter of fact, Mark was not listening. He was too busy staring down at Kent. He wondered how he could have never noticed before how absolutely stunning his best friend was. Kent looked especially cute without his glasses, groping around and squinting to try and see Mark. So Mark took the only opportunity he would ever have to make a move and get on with it. Keeping Kent’s shoulders down with his hands he leaned forwards and pressed their lips together. Kent was non-responsive for about half of a nanosecond. The half a nanosecond he registered Mark’s lips on his own, he responded forcefully, or as forcefully as he could with Mark’s stupid football muscles pinning him down. He reached up his hands as much as he could to touch the tops of Mark’s thighs. Apparently Mark liked that, and kissed Kent harder and sweeter and it was fucking bliss. Kent moaned and wiggled enough to get Mark’s hands off his shoulders. “Mark!” Kent moaned again. Mark grinned internally and lowered himself on top of Kent, aligning their bodies together. He thrust their hips together and they both cried out at the same time. Mark pulled back suddenly. “Wha-?” Kent did his best to look at Mark confusedly. He did look confused, but he couldn’t tell because a) he couldn’t see his own expression and b) even if he could have, he didn’t have his glasses because Mark had knocked them off.

“Shhh!” Mark warned.

“Mark? What is it?” Kent whispered. Mark scrambled for the remote to the TV and turned it on just as Kent heard footsteps on the stairs to the attic. “Mark! My glasses!” Kent hissed. Mark thrust them into his hand right as his mom knocked on the door.

“Mark? Kent? Are you boys alright in there? You’re being awfully quiet,” Mark’s mom called through the door. “Mark? Can I come in?” Mark jumped up and pumped his fist in the air.

“Yes! Touchdown! Perfect! Did you see that Kent? Perfect!” he yelled. His mom smiled.

“Yes, you can come in Mrs. McDavis,” Kent called out. This time when she saw them, Kent was laying on the couch with Mark sitting in front of it. She looked between them, at the flushed faces and guilty expressions.

“Boys? What were you two doing?”

“Nothing, mom,” Mark replied in a voice that said plainly of-course-we-were-doing-something-but-we‘re-teenage-boys-we-can’t-tell-you.

“Okay then, just when you do tell me you’ve been getting drunk or smoking weed, don’t let your parent’s blame me, Kent,” she requested in a tired voice.

“I won’t Mrs. McDavis! Besides, we always smoke at my house!” Kent joked. She sneered at him.

“Yes, very funny Kenton Baxter! Mark, if you smoke, you’ll be in a world of trouble young man!” she scolded as she walked out of the room. Mark snorted.

“Yeah, like I could play football if I smoked.”

“Everyone else does,” Kent said, playing with Mark’s hair.

“Well that’s their fuck up. I don’t actually care.”

“Have you ever tried?” Kent asked idly.

“Eww, no dude! Gross.” Kent raised an eyebrow at him. “Yeah fine, I did once. I never told you ‘cause I thought you’d tell my mom or something.” Kent looked hurt and removed his hand from Mark’s head.

“Why would you think I would do that?”

“Because you know it’s bad, and you as a good friend would try and stop me,” Mark grinned weakly at Kent, trying to gain back his trust.

“I would try and stop you myself before telling your mom,” Kent said and replaced his hand on Mark’s head. Mark sighed happily.

“You don’t actually like watching football with me, do you?” he commented as the game came back on.

“Not particularly,” Kent replied, looking distracted. “Dude, what is that?”

“What?” Mark asked. Kent pointed at a magazine that had fallen off the table in the corner due to all the junk on it. “Oh, that,” Mark blushed lightly. “It’s nothing.” Kent grinned and poked Mark’s cheek.

“That blush isn’t nothing!” he teased. Mark blushed even more and hit his face in his hands.

“Pretend you didn’t see it!” Kent laughed manically and grabbed the magazine. Mark tried to snatch it away, but Kent was too fast.

“You have gay porn? How did I never see this?” Mark shrugged.

“You weren’t looking for it?” he suggested in a duh voice.

“And how would you know that?” Kent asked with a suggestive eyebrow raise, picking up the magazine. Mark swallowed hard. That was probably not the best magazine for Kent to see. Because it wasn’t actually gay porn, it was Manga, which was basically the same thing. But still, wouldn’t Kent think he was weird for jacking off to a bunch of cartoon Japanese guys? Mark looked at Kent’s face, and was surprised by the look he saw there. Kent’s usually light cheeks were flushed and he had his lower lip between his teeth, which made Mark want to be the one biting Kent’s lip. Mark let his eyes flick to Kent’s lap and smirked.

“Like it?” he whispered suggestively. “Do you like the cartoon Japanese people? Do you find them…sexy?” he grinned, his voice dropping an octave on the word sexy. Now his voice was husky and sexy as he could make it. “Do they make you hard? Do they make you want them to be real?” Kent let his head drop backwards, his eyes rolling back in his head. Mark’s voice doing that so close to his ear was making him crazy. He couldn’t concentrate on the Manga book since Mark had started talking. His arousal was mostly from the sound of Mark’s voice. And now-oh God! Mark was kissing his ear, and his neck and Kent was seriously in danger of going insane.

“Ngghh…” he tried to tell Mark to stop, but his neck was really enjoying the attention, and therefore preventing his vocal chords from making any words. And now his brain was slowly shutting down, turning to mush from Mark’s tongue on his neck. Mark smirked against Kent’s neck. He loved having this much power over a person. None of the girl’s he’d dated ever reacted like this. He detached his mouth from Kent’s neck and stood up, straddling Kent’s waist on the couch.

“Mark?” Kent asked softly, unsure.

“Shut up, Kent,” Mark instructed, removing Kent’s glasses and putting them on the table beside them.

“Mark, I can’t see!” Kent protested.

“Kent, what we’re about to do, you won’t need glasses.”

“Oh.”