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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Cid (working title) - 14. Chapter 14

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Billy POV

The loss of Cid from his daily life had been rough. Christmastime, luckily, had been a great time at home. There were presents, eggnog, family laughter and the love that permeated all facets of his life. Plus the friendship from Frank that sounded like it wanted to be something more. But the subtraction of Cid tugged at his heart as he knew he’d miss his favorite artist.

Today wasn’t too bad so far; Billy settled back into his dorm room and had finally finished putting away the sweet-smelling laundry that his mother had so meticulously washed for him. She’d shown him how to do it himself; but after things went down with Cid, he didn’t leave his room for over a day. His mom knew she was hurting and did all she could to help.

At least he wasn’t along. Frank hadn’t left his side for too long since the ‘breakup’. No, wait that really wasn’t an accurate term for what happened. He thought he loved Cid, but his parents were right. It was infatuation. He was spellbound by the enigmatic painter with the attitude from hell.

For now, he chose to steer clear as much as he could and clear his head. Frank was being great about it and didn’t push for anything. A light knock was heard on the door and he quickly answered.

“Hey.” It was Frank.

“Hey. How’d it go?” Billy replied and his eyes traveled down to a large item that his friend carried. It took only a few seconds to recognize it and his mouth gaped open. “He gave this to you?”

“Yea. I dropped off your gift and he handed me this.” He very carefully propped up the painting on the bed and they both stood back and admired it for a long moment.

“Damn, he’s so good.” Billy sighed. His fingers ached to touch the pigments on the canvas that had been transformed into this masterpiece. He missed Cid, but not the heartache and drama that trying to squeeze his way into the artist’s heart caused.

“Did he seem ok?”

Frank shrugged. “I dunno really. He’s not gonna spill his guts to me. I guess he’s ok for his usual.”

“Hmm. Well. I hope he’s ok.” Billy ran his fingers along the stapled edge of the canvas. He tried to envision just the right frame to get for the work. Shit. He had to snap out of it, he knew that, and to still worry about Cid when he knew Frank was interested wasn’t right nor fair. He looked his friend up and down. “I’m sorry. I am trying to move on.” He insisted.

“Hey, no worries, ok? I told you. When you feel it too, ok? I’m your bud, Billy. I like you a lot and I’m not gonna jerk you around. If you want to move this up, you let me know. I’m good either way.”

Without another word, Billy took Frank into his arms for a very long hug. He held on for as long as he liked; Frank didn’t try to end it first. Hmpf. The closest he’d gotten with lilac locks was a side hug and it was stilted at best. This…this was real. He could smell Frank’s cologne through his open coat and flannel shirt. He felt so good in his arms; the tall, firm body of his friend was very enticing to him. His fingers began to wander a little along the small of Frank’s back and he encountered no resistance at all.

Finally, he broke the hug and looked up into Frank’s eyes. There were a hazel combination he’d not seen before; more green than brown, with flecks of blue. They were set in a pale, narrow face, which also housed the Romanesque nose, a hairless upper lip, and wide, thin, pink lips that he kept eyeing over and over. But he had to calm himself.

“You ok?” Frank asked gently as he brushed the hair out of Billy’s eyes.

“I’m fine. Well…I will be.” Billy admitted.

“You hungry? I’m starved. I’ll take us out to that sub place in town.”

That sounded great right now.

“Yea! I’m about to keel over myself.” Billy teased. His eyes wandered to the painting again as he separated himself from Frank long enough to grab his coat. He longed to thank Cid for the work himself; but wondered what to even say anymore.

“Frank?”

“Yea?”

Now how to ask this. “Do…you think Cid would still want to be my friend at all?”

“I guess so. The guy’s about as easy to read as War and Peace in ten minutes.” Frank mused.

Gawd, that was the truth.

“I guess I could try. Do you mind if I am friends with him?” he suddenly felt like he needed permission or something.

Frank took Billy’s hands and cradled them in his own, long, warm hands and looked into his eyes. “Billy, you can be friends with whomever you like, bud. I’m not going to say a word unless they hurt you. Do you get that?”

“Uh, yeah. I do.” He nodded and thought about how Cid had already hurt him; but that was very much his pushiness and being lovesick. “I’ll work on it, in addition to all the other stuff I’m already trying to do.” He pledged.

“Good deal.” Frank squeezed his hands before letting them go. “Now come on, I’m staved and that foot-long tuna sandwich is calling my name.” he buttoned up his coat and waved Billy through the door. He turned, locked the door, then took off with Frank down the hall.

Copyright © 2018 stephanie l danielson; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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