[Even after what Eddie's just -- confessed, acknowledged, admitted -- said, Will freezes a little when the other boy moves forward. Boys aren't supposed to touch, they're not supposed to hug or hold hands or be close the way little kids can. They're not, and it makes him feel so damn lonely, because he wants that, for reasons that don't just have to do with that, but he's so hyper cautious about every movement, every word, every look that lasts a little too long.
But then Eddie hugs him and it's so good. It's nothing but good. It's like settling into a place he didn't know he was looking for, like a puzzle piece, like the last color added to a painting that makes the rest of it complete. It's so good that Will can't imagine feeling this relieved, this seen and known can be anything wrong.
So he clings on back as tight as he can, chest aching like it's been torn open, raw and tender and free for the first time in his entire life.]
i cry and my tears are tiny gay boys
But then Eddie hugs him and it's so good. It's nothing but good. It's like settling into a place he didn't know he was looking for, like a puzzle piece, like the last color added to a painting that makes the rest of it complete. It's so good that Will can't imagine feeling this relieved, this seen and known can be anything wrong.
So he clings on back as tight as he can, chest aching like it's been torn open, raw and tender and free for the first time in his entire life.]