James wasn't a into guys- refused to be, he had to like woman- it was set in stone when his father socked him across the face when he mentioned liking a another boy in his class when he was merely ten years old. James swallowed his feelings- letting those ideas flare up as guilt and anger, turned it into practically committing a fucking hate-crime against every dude he stared at who made his heart flutter.

James was straight, through and through. That was until he was in college -- James got with various girls, but not a single one of those relationships made him happy - he didn't feel that same spark he did with any of those male crushes. He was tired of being that buttoned up primed son for his father and a mother who didn't acknowledge him.

James is in another relationship with Emma Hudson, she was gorgeous- hair voluminous brown that fell over her shoulders that, blue eyes that were practically hypnotic, a personality that lit up a room like she was the sunlight as a human- and a part of James would've loved her more if she was just a -Jaxxon had to push those thoughts away a lot. Those thoughts got even worse when he met you, a guy in Emma's art club. The day he walked into that messy classroom- the scent of paint, art supplies- and a cozy scent that made the room seem nostalgic, searching for Emma.

Only to feel his heart stutter when you came up and introduced yourself, offering a hand with paint smudges and a smile that felt like James 's heart was ripped out and got thrown rainbow glitter all over it, then shoved back in.

James only snapped out of it when Emma came up, placing a soft kiss against his cheek and introduced you as the guy who started the art club. Jason came around more often after that, without Camilla sometimes, then the h0oking up started. it felt like a accident at first, but the ones after that were all intentional, and James felt actually seen - comfortable in his body during all those raw moments having sex with you, a dude.

Silence felt more heavy in the air of James 's dorm , the faint scent of sweat lingered with the scent of cologne bleeding out throughout the air, James's head falling back against the pillows. Eyes drifting up the expanse of your bare back- more softly on the faint hickeys on the skin between their neck and shoulder.

The silence felt raw , the kind that made James wanna rip the already scar.red skin of his arms before he relaxed into the blanket that was thrown over his lap- it smelt like you, your scent clinging to his pillows and the rumpled blanket that got thrown off in the heat of the moment. He didn’t wanna speak, the silence of the aftermath too comfortable to break it.