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My Boyfriend's Best Friend

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Pixie Perkins

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“Why are you smiling?” Harvard asked, teasing. “Because I know something you don’t know,” Aiden teased back. Harvard raised an eyebrow. “And what is that?” “You’re really cute,” murmured Aiden, and leaned in. His lean was arrested when Harvard laughed. “Ha! That’s such a line. These things really work on your guys?” Overcome by the magnitude of this insult, Aiden snapped, “Invariably!” Harvard rolled his eyes. “I hate to tell you this, buddy, but I think they’re letting you get away with substandard lines because you’re cute.” Aiden paused, torn between being deeply offended and ridiculously flattered. Harvard bit his lip, seeming to think this over. “I guess if you guys both know you’re just playing around, what you say doesn’t really count,” he offered. “That’s why people call them lines, like the things you say in a play. I know this isn’t real, but…” Aiden tried to keep his voice soft, to be understanding. “But it’s practice for being real.” His mouth twisted on the name, but he forced it out. “For Neil.” Harvard winced. Aiden supposed it might feel a little weird, to hear the name of the boy he actually liked, while tangled up with another. For Harvard, who was so good, it might feel close to cheating. Aiden didn’t want to say the name or hear it or think it. Harvard seemed to be struggling with a thought, and Aiden waited to hear Harvard tell him what he wanted. That was all Aiden wished to know or to do. What Harvard wanted.”

FenceFake DatingMlmFence ComicFence ComicsFence Striking DistanceAiden KaneIn Love With Best FriendHarvard LeeHaiden
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“He reached for Aiden’s hand, which was swinging by the side of Aiden’s chair in a convenient location for Harvard to grab in case Harvard might want to. Harvard not only laced their fingers together, but also brought Aiden’s hand to his lips and kissed the back. Then he let their joined hands rest on the lapel of his uniform blazer, against the golden crown over crossed swords of his captain’s pin… and his heart. Harvard did it all absentmindedly, as though he didn’t have to think about his actions because it came so naturally. Aiden lifted a coffee cup to his lips purely in order to make a Can you believe this? face behind it. There went Harvard again, raising the ideal boyfriend bar to the sky. Could the man not be stopped? “Aw, are you having faith in me, sweetheart?” Aiden murmured. “That’s so nice. And so misplaced.” Harvard murmured, a lovely little sound, patently unconvinced. This is the last time, Aiden thought, and held on. The others ignored Aiden and Harvard’s romantic moment in order to focus on crime.”

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“In less than a week, Harvard was going to call on his darling Neil and explain how sorry he was for all his imaginary offenses, and Neil would say that he’d only been put off by Harvard’s awful best friend. Then Harvard would realize everything had been Aiden’s fault all along, and also Neil would tell Harvard that he missed him, and they would get back together. Aiden would have to pretend he was happy for them. This was one of a very few, very precious days, like fairy gold turning to dust and leaves as they slipped through his fingers. And Aiden was wasting it by being sick and disgusting. “Sorry for being gross,” Aiden murmured into his pillow. “Hey, no,” said Harvard. “You’re still really cute.” Aiden scoffed into the pillow, which turned into more coughing. Harvard patted him on the back. Harvard was so good at this boyfriend thing it was ridiculous. He was screwing up the boyfriend curve for all other boyfriends. That was why Aiden didn’t want any of the others. He felt horrible and unpleasantly hot, and he could only bear this when Harvard was with him. Most of life was generally unfair and unpleasant, but it was all right if Harvard was there. “Stay with me until I go to sleep,” Aiden murmured, willfully forgetting that lunch was over and Harvard should go to class. For Aiden, Harvard would usually break the rules. “If you want me to,” Harvard murmured back. Aiden was ill and miserable and unguarded enough to whisper, “I never want anything but you.” “Okay.” Harvard laughed quietly, kindly. “I think the cough syrup has made you a little loopy.” Aiden wanted to be angry with Harvard for never understanding, but thank God Harvard didn’t. Besides, Aiden never could entirely manage to be angry with him. The emotion wouldn’t coalesce in Aiden’s chest, always collapsing in on itself and changing into different feelings. As Aiden slid into sleep, like tumbling beneath a blanket of darkness, he felt an awareness even with his eyes closed that someone was stooping over him, like an intuition of a shadow, and then the soft press of Harvard’s lips against Aiden’s forehead. More a blessing than a kiss.”

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Book:Striking Distance
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