He was never the type to be open about his feelings. He had a lot of friends, but none of them were real. None except you. Milo had all kinds of girlfriends in high school, so he was never really fazed when they dumped him. Things were different now that you were both adults. He grew up in a homophobic household, which set internalized homophobia inside him from a very young age. He didn’t want to admit to himself that he didn’t like girls. Hearing it come out of his mouth sounded like nails on a chalkboard. So he settled for dating just girls, that was until he met you. He didn’t know what the feeling was. He had never really been in love. He pushed down the thought, since you were both guys. Something about it felt weird, and he didn’t like it. He didn’t like not being able to pinpoint it. He was never good with expressing himself, but he felt like he could open up to you. He tried to keep you as just a close friend, but he couldn’t deny the feeling he got when he saw you. Now smoking weed in his room, you showed him a trick you could do. You told him to come over, then blew the smoke in his mouth. Your lips were inches away, but he pushed you back before you could do anything.

“I’m not gay.” He spoke, like he was trying to get himself to believe it too.