[Samuel x Roman]

e m m a - m a r i e

Emmie frowned a little at Harper's explanation. She wished he didn't have to deal with that. His words were harsh and sh wasn't one to support being mean for no reason, but Harper had a right to be angry and Jacob was the one to be mean for no reason. And then when Harper said something a little less serious, at least she was about ninety percent sure he was joking despite his tone, her expression softened a little and she laughed.

"Okay first of all, ew, I don't want to flirt with him, he's a homophobe," Emmie giggled, as if the main issue wasn't that she was way too shy to approach someone like that, no matter what her intentions were, "secondly, are you implying that if he would be gay you would use that against him? That's kinda hypocritical," he gave him a little nudge before going back to her own lunch, glancing back at Jacob again. She didn't really think he was into Harper or anything, but ironically he also knew that he'd be the kind of guy Harper at least thought was good looking if it hadn't been for hating the guy.

"But you know Harper, maybe talking to him isn't the worst idea, but like you should do it and not flirtily," she said, a little more serious now, "he doesn't really deserve a chance and I do't think anything will excuse him for having acted like an ass, but like, you don't actually know why he's acting like this, yeah? Maybe he just doesn't realize how much homophobia can hurt someone?"
 
h a r p e r
Harper wished he had his dad's thick skin. He and Roman had sat down and talked about how to deal with homophobia on multiple occasions, and the older man just seemed so cool and collected about it, all the time. He had told Harper that it was alright if he got affected by it, but he had also told Harper that he had never really let it affect him in the ways other queer people had. So Harper couldn't help but wonder what his dad's secrets were.

But Roman just seemed like an absurdly confident person in general. His Auntie London and their friends who they had known since high school had told him about how his dad had always just strutted around like he owned the place, even though he suffered from crippling panic disorders. Harper was confident, but not that confident. And while it took a lot for him to actually feel upset about something that was being said to him, his threshold was a lot lower than that of his father.

"No, I'm pretty sure he does know,"
Harper disagreed with Emma-Marie. He sighed and rolled his shoulders, before popping a piece of lasange into his mouth. "You know what sucks, though?" he asked once he'd swallowed, glancing over at Jacob. "He's Middle Eastern, and he's exactly my type. If he wasn't a complete dickhead I actually would be into him like he claims I am."
 
e m m a - m a r i e

Emmie let out another little laugh, “yeah I was just thinking that, actually,” she explained. She didn’t think it was funny that someone was too mean for Harper for him to think someone he would have found cute otherwise was so nasty to him that he couldn’t find him cute.

“But I dunno, even if he wasn’t a homophobe he seems kind of annoying,” Emmie said, more to support Harper than to express some opinion about Jacob. She didn’t know him and had only heard about him from Harper, but he did seem annoyingly competitive and kind of rude on top of acting completely unreasonable. But Harper was also kind of competitive and that didn’t make him annoying, so her view was clearly coloured.

“Maybe you should be the one flirting with him to find out if he’s secretly into you instead?” she then added as a joke, “I bet he’d love that,”
 
h a r p e r

Harper sighed. There was just so much shit going on with Jacob that he didn't even know where to start to address the problem. He could tell his coach, but he didn't want to get labelled as scared or as a snitch by his teammates, and he felt like doing so would just add fuel to the fire. He could tell his dads, but he could easily see them overreacting and he didn't want them to pull him out of soccer or make him change teams just because of one asshole.

"He'd probably punch me in the face," Harper theorised. And he believed that. If Jacob was queer -- which he doubted -- then he seemed to be so deep into the closet that he was unable to admit it to himself, and therefore he'd be the type to lash out aggressively if Harper tried anything. And if he wasn't, then he was definitely the type to have a very fragile hold on his own masculinity, and thus, he'd probably lash out anyway. Harper wasn't about to put himself in danger to prove a point.

"Let's stop talking about him, he makes me angry," Harper suggested. He got up and shifted so his back was facing Jacob and his friends, and therefore, he didn't have to look at him and instead could concentrate on spending lunch with his best friend. Out of sight, out of mind.

Well, until they had soccer practice that evening.
 
h u g o

High school was actually going really well for Hugo. The summer had been weird and kind of stressful. He had moved out of Letha’s place and into a foster home. The people he lived with were really nice. Really nice. They were and elderly couple who hadn’t ever had kids of their own. It was weird to live with strangers, and t was weird not to live in a house full of people because he had kind of gotten used to that. But he liked it too. It was calm and he didn’t have to worry about things as much anymore.

And so he had been able to actually enjoy starting high school. He still stuck to Letha a lot. She was his best friend and she had been with him through a lot. But they had their little group of friends, which was who they were hanging out with as they fetched their books for their next class.

They were just talking about some homework when Sofie tugged at Letha’s arm, interrupting the conversation to go, “Is that your brother?” while nodding in the direction of a group of older kids. Harper was indeed among them but Sofie was one of their new high school friends so it wasn’t like she had really been at Letha’s place yet. A couple of days back she had said she thought a specific guy a couple of grades above them was really cute and after some speculation they had come to the conclusion that it might be Harper, and Hugo figured that was why she was asking now.
 
l e t h a
As the youngest Hemlock-Ortega to have passed through the doors of high school, Letha was sort of living in the shadow of her older siblings. They had set a precedent for her to follow -- Stella's rebelliousness and Harper's charisma were traits people just expected of her even before she opened her mouth. Even Eden's outbursts were something that her teachers watched out for when dealing with her -- only to find that she was the sweetest girl in the world, of course.

The teachers who had had her older siblings also sort of expected her to perform similarly in those classes. And of course, everyone knew her father was Mr Hemlock-Ortega. So, long story short, she wasn't surprised to learn that her friend Sofie knew about Harper.

Letha looked up when Sofie tugged her and cast her pretty blue eyes in the direction her friend was indicating. "Hm?" Letha took a glance at the group of teens and easily identified her brother out of them. "Oh, yeah, that's Harper," she affirmed, nodding her head. Then she looked at Sofie curiously. "Why?"
 
h u g o

A slight blush spread on Sofie's face as Letha asked her just why she inquired about her brother. Hugo decided his suspicions were true and that Harper really was the guy Sofie had been gushing about before. Now she seemed unsure what to say though, "oh I just... I dunno, I just know your siblings go to our school but I'm not sure who's who since you don't look like each other, you know?"

"Sofie said she thought someone was cute the other day, and the person she described sounded like Harper," Hugo said with a slight grin. She gave him a scowl back but it was all clearly in good fun as she accompanied it with a whiny but chuckling "Hugo, don't call me out like this,"

"I mean I don't think anyone can blame you for thinking he's cute,"
Jazz, another one of their friends said with a small laugh, "You should ask him to come hang out with us at lunch sometime," she continued. Her tone was joking but Hugo was sure there was a little truth to her wanting that to happen, or else she wouldn't have said it.
 
l e t h a
Letha blinked a couple of times in surprise. She knew her elder brother was typically considered handsome, but still, it was a bit of a shock to hear that her friend had a crush on him. And that was just affirmed by Jazz's comment. Since when had people started to develop crushes on her elder brother?

Harper was a lovely person to be around, but Letha knew him better than anyone else there. She knew how he had picked his nose until he was eleven and she knew how he farted really loudly in his room sometimes. He did a bunch of gross, silly and strange things, and while that didn't negate his character or anything, it did influence her ability to accept that someone could actually have a crush on him.

"No, what, you can't invite my brother over just because you think he's cute," Letha protested.

"How come?" their friend Flora giggled.

"Because he's my brother!"
 
h u g o

"But it's not just that though," Jazz insisted, "like if he would hang out with us a little we would get to hang out with some of the people in the years above, that'd be kind of cool,"

"I dunno why you think hanging out would them would be any cooler than hanging out with people our age," Hugo said, deciding Letha might want and need some backup, "Like Harper's cute and all, I get it, but he's also kind of lame sometimes, and I don't think his friends are any different," Harper was actually a really cool guy, but after living with him for a while Hugo couldn't really put him on the pedestal their other friends were doing.

Sofie let out a pretty unexpected laugh at Hugo's comment. He didn't really get what was laughable about it. Until she said, "oh my god, see even Hugo thinks Harper is cute," which made Hugos cheeks flare up and he quickly inflicted with, "Oh my god that isn't what I meant," then turned to Letha, "please don't think I'm as shallow as them and want to hang out with Harper just because he's cute," which earned him some more laughs.
 
l e t h a

Letha was very grateful for Hugo's backup, but it wasn't really working, she could see that. She wasn't mad about the fact that her friends found her elder brother cute, but she wasn't happy about it either.

She wasn't going to go around and tell people who they could and couldn't find attractive, but the idea of anyone finding her brother desireable was just sort of weird and especially her friends. What if they started hanging out with her, not for her, but for the chance to see Harper? What if she started being referred to as just 'Harper's sister' and not her own person? She wanted her friends to like her for her, rather than who her brother was.

"It's okay," Letha said to Hugo, rubbing her forehead. She wasn't mad at him -- she wasn't mad at anyone. She was just really confused. "Guys, please stop. You don't want to date Harper, he's a weirdo and he has a crush on someone else anyway." That was a lie, but Letha told it to get the girls to let up.
 
h u g o

Sofie let out an half-hearted "aww" and put on a disappointed expression. It was quite clear that she didn't actually want to date Harper or anything. Hugo had also kind of come to the conclusions that a lot of girls their age, or at least the girls he hung out with seemed to just kind of think it was fun to obsess over some guy and stalk his social media and giggle to their friends when they saw him in the hallways. It was less about the guy and more about having fun with friends it seemed.

"yeah and like there are plenty of cute guys in our year too," Hugo continued to defend Letha's not wanting for her friends to obsess over Harper. And of course this statement got him some giggles, being the only guy in the group often made it kind of funny when he just partook in the conversation just like they would. "plus I honestly just think the people in their year see us as kids, especially since,"

"ugh, yeah you're probably right about that one," Jazz sad and then turned a playful smile towards Letha, "we just have to be happy we at least get Letha then!"
 
h a r p e r
Every day with Jacob just got more and more painful. Harper was really, really, really trying to just let his insults and words roll off him, but when you were exposed for something for too long, eventually it will wear you down, no matter how strong you are. Presently, Harper was just about done with everything. He was definitely reaching his breaking point.

Currently he was at soccer, all sweaty and tired after having spent the last hour and a bit relentlessly training. He had always taken soccer seriously, even though at the end of the day, he wasn't playing major league so it didn't matter. It was just something he was passionate about. So even if the team had only played a mock game and done some casual exercises, Harper always left it looking quite messy.

But it was definitely in a good way. His hair was a mess and the sweat on his forehead made his skin sort of glowy. Currently, he was making his way across the field to the change rooms, having lifted up his shirt to wipe his face and subsequently revealing his lightly muscled torso. Since he couldn't see for a moment he bumped into someone. And he looked up to apologise. Only to see that it was Jacob.

"...Sorry,"
Harper said, because he wasn't a total asshole, but he said it quite bitterly, as if it physically pained him to pronounce the words. He tried to walk off before things escalated. He wasn't in the mood for a fight.
 
j a c o b

Jacob was getting so sick and tired of Harper and as a result he just kept constantly egging him on more. It was getting to a point where even he was starting to feel like things were getting a little out of hand. But it was just hard because Harper seemed to be on his mind the moment they were in even remotely close proximity. And lately he had started to realize that he was thinking about details he shouldn't even be thinking about. Being annoyed because Harper was his closest rival at soccer was one thing, but thinking about the fact that his hair was perfectly messy when beating him and even as much as knowing the fact that his eyes were this really nice grey colour that never really looked cold, even when he was glaring daggers at him, was another.

But he really had no idea what to do about it but continue as normal, so when Harper just straight up walked into him after practice he couldn't stop the anger flaring up. If Harper was so perfect at everything he could have at least looked where he was going. And not pulled his shirt up so he had to see the fact that his body was just as attractive as his face. Objectively. Jacob avoided looking at Harper as much as he could in the changing rooms, he didn't want anyone getting the wrong idea. But now Harper had literally walked into him with his shirt halfway off so it wasn't like it was weird to look at him. He still only allowed himself a second of taking in the pale skin of his abdomen -- how did he even pull being pasty white off?

"Look Harper, not everyone here's into guys like you, so maybe chill it with the trying to show off, it won't lead to anything," Jacob said finally, the statement could have definitely been seen as a joke if it wasn't for the slight sharp edge in his tone. He just couldn't stand Harper. The way he made him feel. And if he could just make sure the guy didn't show off how good and perfect he was all the time, intentionally or not, Jacob could just ignore him better.
 
h a r p e r
Harper liked to think he had a pretty easy-going temperament, but when Jacob deliberately tested him like this, it didn't take him a lot to snap. And just that comment did the trick for him today. Harper stilled, dropped his shirt, took a deep breath through his nose and spun around angrily. Everyone there let out shocked gasps or 'ooh' sounds as Harper furiously made his way towards the other guy.

"Look," he said, irritably and forcibly. "I don't know how stupid you are, Jacob, but I've told you about a thousand fucking times that I'm not into you." He arrived to stand beside his teammate, bristling with irritation. His fists were clenched and his eyes were dark. He was not in the mood for this shit and yet he was forced to deal with it in the very place he considered to be his second home, the soccer field.

"I know you're probably so up yourself that you can't grasp the fact that someone doesn't fucking like you, you complete and utter dickhead, but I want you to understand it right here and right now. I. Do. Not. Like. You."
 
j a c o b

Fuck Harper and his ability to make his cheek feel warm even though it probably didn't show all that much. And fuck him for making him feel all weird at the words 'I'm not into you' it wasn't like he wanted Harper to be into him, that'd be gross and Harper was annoying, but it wasn't like he was bad looking, did Harper just think he was so much better than everyone that he couldn't even see him as attractive?

"I'm not saying you like me, Harper," Jacob bit back angrily, "I'm saying I don't. And I don't like you being all up in everyone's faces all the fucking time." Jacob continued, and a couple of the guys who were still there watching things play out exchanged some confused glances, though Jacob payed no mind to that, he was too focused on Harper.

"Just look where the fuck you're going next time, alright? I don't want to have to be the close to you fucking ever," he said, voice sharp, laced with a twinge of disgust, though that was more because what he was saying wasn't entirely true. He kind of just wanted to lash out, shove him, wrestle him to the ground, more because he wanted to see what it was like to be that close to him than to hurt him. And he hated that feeling.
 
h a r p e r
Harper was not a violent person. Even when he had been little, he hadn't really fought with his siblings or other kids very much. He could recall a time where he had actually been beaten up by an older child in school, and he had done nothing but lay there and take it because he hadn't had it in him to fight back.

But in that moment all he want to do was punch Jacob in the fucking face. He was so infuriating, he was so up himself, and he was so determined to make Harper's life a thousand times more difficult than it needed to be.

But getting into a fight would be incredibly stupid and Harper wasn't in the mood to get kicked out of his soccer team because of this idiot. So he did nothing. He just violently glared at Jacob and clenched his fists to prevent himself from lashing out.

"Good," Harper spat. "Maybe if you get the fuck over yourself and leave me alone you won't feel the need to jump down my throat every single time you see me."
 
j a c o b

"I'm just doing it when you're being fucking annoying," Jacob insisted, it was true. True for him at least. Harper bumping into him annoyed him. Harper being better than him annoyed him. Harper being perfect annoyed him. Harper being on his mind when he was home in bed about to go to sleep with his stupid perfect hair and that smile he always sported after their team scored plastered onto his imagined face was annoying.

He took a quick step forward, suddenly letting his impulses take control and pushed his arms out hard to give Harper a shove. Then instantly regretted it and grabbed his arm to prevent him from stumbling and falling. And then his hand felt glued to Harper's bicep, feeling his warm skin against his hand. He stared, wide-eyed, at Harper for a moment, taking in the freckles on his cheeks and his eyes and-- Roughly he let go of Harper's arm and took a step away, "Just fucking don't come close to me-- Okay?!" he said, voice loud, then he turned, kicked the ground and hurried of. Tail between his legs, even he had to admit that hadn't been getting a last word in.

He hated this. He hated that he knew next to everyone was going to be on Harper's side because they were going to see it as him shoving him because Harper was gay or whatever. And he hated Harper. And he hated the fact the fact the he couldn't ignore the fact that he had just thought Harper was attractive in a way that had made his heart skip a beat.
 
h a r p e r
From that day Jacob shoved him, everything just continued to grow more and more tense between the boys. At soccer they were constantly bickering and trying their best to outdo one another, even if they were essentially at the same standard when it came to the sport. At school, they would constantly death glare one another and occasionally have verbal arguments that just eventuated in their friends having to lead them away. It sucked, and Harper wasn't happy with how things were turning out. He wanted to be making progress with Jacob, but it seemed that whenever they got even close to taking a step forward, they just shoved each other five steps backward.

Another thing that was growing was the romantic tension between them. Harper didn't notice it but his male, non-homophobic friends liked to joke about how he'd end up dating Jacob because at the moment, they were just star-crossed lovers. Harper would vehemently deny this, but in his heart, he couldn't deny the way Jacob's hands on his skin made his heart flutter. He wanted to blame it on Jacob being attractive and precisely his type, but then that would mean conceding to the homophobe's belief that he was always checking him out. So Harper bit his tongue and hoped the idiot would just fuck off.

It was a chilly night in April and Harper was at a party. His dads had always been cool about letting Harper go out and have fun, as long as he was home before one in the morning and didn't get too drunk. Roman was also always willing to chaperone he and his friends. He was definitely a cool dad.

Tonight, Harper wore a pair of dark brown skinny jeans and a paler green T-shirt with beautiful blue and pink flowers emblazoned across the shoulders. His nails were a mix of pink and blue, and he had even let his dad do some makeup on him, something that he wasn't very big on but sometimes liked to do for parties. Roman had only done eyeshadow and brows, since that was all Harper had wanted, but he looked great. His left eye had a glittery blue shadow around it, and his right one had a similar look in pink. He also wore mascara and eyeliner and had had his brows done nicely. In short, he looked lovely.

He had gone upstairs to go to the bathroom, slightly more drunk than he had intended to be at ten p.m., and waited patiently outside the door until it unlocked and opened. He stepped forward and smiled politely at the person coming out, but then that smile died when he realised it was Jacob.
 
j a c o b

Unable to stop himself from taking his feelings out on Harper the next couple of weeks turned into a mess of fighting and arguing and glaring. Jacob hated it because slowly he was starting to become unable to deny what his feelings for Harper were. He was an easily irritable person naturally, he got annoyed with other people all the time, but he didn't spend as much time thinking about how pretty the person that annoyed him was like he did with Harper, he didn't lay away at night thinking about the way they looked when a light sheen of sweat covered their body and they ran their hand through their hair, smile shining on their face after the goal their just scored. He didn't hate Harper. But he hated his feelings and he hated that it just had to be fucking Harper of all people.

He ignored it though, as much as he could at least. Harper had established that he wasn't interested, and further did so with every glare, that at this point actually hurt a little to see. And besides, he wasn't going to act on it anyways he'd just wait for the feelings to pass and then everything would go back to normal again. And so he tried to pass his time normally and not think about Harper. He was at a party, taking the opportunity to drink a little so that he could relax and not have to overthink his feelings because he was getting sick of it. After a certain amount of drinks though, he had had to find a bathroom. Maybe he had had too much for it being so early, but he just wanted one night of fun.

He didn't look up as he opened the door, wiping his wet hand of on the flanell he wore over his dark T-shirt paired with a pair of jeans. But when he did look up and saw who it was he stopped dead in the doorway, more because he hadn't expected Harper than to not let him into the bathroom. In his half drunken state of mind his brain hadn't really caught up with the situation and for once he allowed himself to just take Harper in without feeling like he shouldn't. He looked great of course, like always, outfit to make up. His hair was nice and looked soft and his freckles made him all pretty as normal.

After a moment or two of just staring his brain did caught up though. A frown formed on his face, angry at himself for thinking all of that about Harper, and to compensate for the feelings the guy had sparked within him he harshly said, "are you wearing fucking make up?" clearly he was and Jacob couldn't think of a guy who'd be able to pull eye shadow of better.
 
h a r p e r
Of course, it took Jacob about five seconds to start behaving aggressively, and Harper wasn't surprise. He gave the other guy a filthy glare before shoving past him and going into the bathroom. "Yes, I am, as a matter of fact," he said scathingly, not bothering to hide his contempt for the other. In his mind, Jacob didn't deserve respect.

Harper ran the sink and began to wash his hands -- he didn't actually need to use the toilet, his hands had just been sticky from a sweet he'd eaten downstairs. As he scrubbed off the strawberry-scented grime from his pale hands with the honey-scented foaming soap the hosts had, Harper spoke to Jacob without making eye contact. "You know, you can get shit that makes your skin look better," Harper said, slowly and patronisingly, as if Jacob was exceptionally stupid. "You need some."

But he didn't, and that was so frustrating. Jacob was gorgeous, with his chiseled bone structure and his thick brows and his plump lips. He looked ... noble, in a way, like an Arabian prince of times gone by. And that was precisely Harper's type. Why did the most beautiful people have to be the most cruel?