He hates this --- fuck, he hates this --- and Job is not the type to use that term lightly. It’s just... it’s so fucking confusing. He likes Benny. A lot. He likes hanging out with him --- in and outside the confinements of the garage, the latter having gotten increasingly frequent over the last few weeks. He’s... well, he’s just a funny, genuine, kindhearted guy --- and though Job is a firm believer in the goodness and kindness of man, at the same time, finding someone as earnest as Benny who, on top of that, feels the same way towards Job --- well, suffice it to say it doesn’t happen every often. But, well, at the same time --- he isn’t gay. He isn’t. It isn’t even a homophobic thing (Job could never be so cruel towards others and, anyways, figures God has better things to do with His time than give one solitary shit about who’s fucking who in the human world) --- it’s just... a knowledge of self. Whatever had happened a few months ago that had left him heartbroken and in the midst of a profound identity crisis was just a slip-up, a one time thing --- he wasn’t into men. ISN’T --- isn’t into men. That one guy just... whatever, he can’t explain it, whatever had happened between them was just a mistake. It’s really that simple. He’s just... a loving guy, he supposes --- has a lot of love to give, intensely, and sometimes, suppose that means platonic and romantic feelings can get mixed up. That’s all that it is. If only things could be that simple, though. If only he could explain all of this without hurting Benny’s feelings. Jesus fucking Christ on his fucking throne, he hates this.
“Benny...” though he doesn’t let go of the other’s hands nor does he make any effort to push them away, Job finds it a tad to difficult to meet the kid’s gaze, lips twisted in a crooked, broken line as he chews on the inner side of his cheeks in search of the right words; knowing, simultaneously, there are none. “... I ain’t gay, okay?” Sighing, gaze set at his own feet, he looks away at nothing in particular, wishing to look at something, anything but Benny as he finally retracts his hands from his and crosses his arms over his chest. “Just --- I don’t wanna lead you on or nothin’. It ain’t --- there ain’t nothin’ wrong with you, kid. But I --- whatever this is, just... we can’t do this anymore. At all. Okay?”
@destitutesoul continued from this.
