Rubber Bands and Heartstrings

“Absolutely not!”

Julian stared at his shorter, redheaded best friend in disgust.

He had met Ansel on his first day of college—running late to Literature, papers flying everywhere as sweat clung to his skin. While he scrambled to gather them, a boy with the kindest smile, crouched beside him and helped clean up the mess.

They had been inseparable ever since.

Now, with a few month of college left, Julian was more than ready to get rid of him.

“Why not?” Ansel whined, pouting.

Julian narrowed his eyes. Ansel knew exactly why not. He just enjoyed being a thorn in his side.

“Okay, but it’s just 24 hours.” Ansel pleaded, as if that would make it any better.

From Julian’s experience, a lot could happen in 24 hours. He cringed at the thought. Ansel knew his past and his concerns. This reaction shouldn’t have been a surprise.

“No.” Julian’s voice was firm, stripped of any hint that he might give in.

The redhead tilted his head, then started nodding—slow at first, then faster—like a bobblehead that wouldn’t quit.

Julian exhaled sharply and let his mind drift, clinging to the comfort of routine. Tomorrow would be simple. Predictable. Safe. Wake up. Breakfast with his roommate. Classes. Meet up with Ansel and the others. End Friday night at some sports bar, half-focused on a game of pool.

Goodbye daydream! Hello reality!

Julian sat in the passenger seat of Ansel’s beat-up Toyota, jaw clenched, arms folded like a scolded eight-year-old. Overnight bags were crammed in the back, along with far too many snacks for what should have been a normal weekend.

Except it wasn’t.

The next morning had come, and—as usual—Ansel got what he wanted. He knew that Julian wouldn’t last saying no to him and vice versa.

A road trip.

A 14-hour drive from campus to see the world’s largest rubber band ball.

“It’s not going to be like your family road trips.” Ansel stated.

Ah yes. The annual Tipton’s family road trip.

Julian had been forced into those since before he was even born—probably since the moment he started kicking aggressively in his mother’s womb. And even then, he was pretty sure he hated it.

Hours trapped in a car. Cramped into a minivan with four siblings. Loud music. Constant fighting.

And the smell.

Oh God, the smell.

His brothers had treated puberty like a personal attack on everyone around them—especially the one who refused to wear deodorant. Julian was convinced that alone should’ve qualified as a biohazard.

“I planned it out. We left at 8 a.m., take turns driving every five hours—”

Ansel stopped mid-sentence at the look Julian gave him.

“Okay, sunshine,” he amended quickly. “I can go a bit longer since it was my idea. We should be in Williamsville around ten tonight, and bada bing, bada boom—the world’s biggest rubber band ball at our doorstep the next morning.”

“Like it’s that easy.” Julian muttered, letting out a huff.

“Did you eat a Krabby Patty today, SpongeBob? It is that easy.” Ansel shot back, grinning.

“Here, take a whiff.” Ansel suddenly lifted his arm.

“What?” Julian recoiled, shoving it away. “Get that away from me.”

“I got a new 24-hour deodorant. I’ll be smelling like tulips. Smell me.”

“Why do you even know what tulips smell like?” Julian asked, pushing his arm away again.

“I like flowers.” Ansel said, frowning—then immediately shoved his armpit toward Julian’s face again.

Julian pushed him off harder this time and suddenly the car swerved.

A loud pop sounded beneath them.

Ansel grabbed the wheel, fighting to steady it as he slammed on the brakes. Finally, the car jerked to a stop.

Silence.

The two boys stared at each other, wide-eyed.

“Two hours!”

“I know how to tell time.” Ansel replied, staring down at the busted tire.

“Yeah? Well, do you know how to change one?” Julian snapped.

“No. But you do.”

Ansel was right. He did.

It wasn’t the first time, either. Back in their second year of college, they’d spent the night partying before making a late run to Taco Bell. Somewhere along the way, a nail had found its way into one of the tires. Julian had changed it without hesitation and earned himself a Crunchwrap Supreme and the biggest, drunkest bro hug of his life. The was also the first time they slept over in each other’s dorm.

“I’m not changing it.” Julian grumbled.

“What if I buy Taco Bell?” Ansel asked, wiping his forehead with the hem of his T-shirt. Julian eyes lingered for a split second.

Julian turned his face slightly, hiding a smile. Of course he was thinking about that night too.

“Fine. But I’m a big boy now—I want two Crunchwrap Supremes.”

“Anything for you, sunshine.”

Three hours ago, Julian made the worst decision of his life.

Now he was paying for it—sitting on a dirty toilet in a 7-Eleven, clutching his stomach like it might fall apart. Ansel waited in the car and thankfully, he hadn’t eaten. Julian was pretty sure his best friend was tossing the rest of the food out right about now.

Another groan escaped him.

Through the pain, his mind drifted back to a family road trip to Niagara Falls. Too much coffee had led him to a similar situation back then.

This felt worse. So much more worse.

When it was finally over, Julian washed his hands and stepped outside. Ansel was leaning against the car, arms crossed, worry written all over his face.

Julian felt heat creep up his neck.

Embarrassing.

Which was stupid, really. This wasn’t new for them. They’d taken care of each other through everything—stomach flus, injuries, and days that just went wrong for no reason at all.

Julian had seen him at his worst—three days without moving or showering after his mom died from a heart attack.

And Ansel had been there when Julian twisted his ankle during a “friendly” game of soccer.

Big or small, it didn’t matter. They always showed up for each other.

“You okay?” Ansel asked quietly, his hand coming up to rub Julian’s back in slow, steady circles.

Julian closed his eyes for a moment, letting the warmth off the gesture settle into him. He swallowed hard, then exhaled deeply.

“Next time I fix the tire, I want something better as a reward.” he said, his voice still a little strained.

“How about coconut water?” Ansel asked, already reaching into the backseat as they climbed into the car.

He pulled out a large bottle and held it up. Julian didn’t hesitate as he leaned over and pulled him into a quick hug and then just as quickly pulled away, a flush creeping across his face.

“Thanks.” he murmured.

Ansel always knew exactly what he needed. Julian watched as his best friend started the car and pulled back onto the road, like nothing had happened.

But something had.

It always did.

By the sixth hour, Julian finally stopped punishing the redhead and took his turn driving. It gave him an excuse—one he didn’t question—to sneak glances at Ansel as he slept in the passenger seat. Ansel had always been the kind of charming that swept people off their feet.

And by people, Julian meant everyone. He’d lost count over the years—girls, guys, it didn’t matter. People gravitated toward him like it was instinct. Like it was inevitable. Julian wasn’t bad-looking either. He’d had his fair share of dates.

But Ansel…

Ansel was like rereading your favorite book—the kind you couldn’t put down, no matter how many times you’d already memorized the ending.

Julian used to joke that with hair like his, Ansel outshined the sun.

The truth was worse.

Around him, the sun didn’t even exist.

Julian’s grip tightened slightly on the steering wheel. This—whatever this was—was a bad idea.

Not the road trip. Him.

The way his chest felt too tight when Ansel smiled. The way a simple touch lingered longer than it should. The way everything seemed to mean more than it was supposed to.

He tore his gaze back to the road. Ansel trusted him and that was the worst part. Years of late nights, inside jokes, showing up when it mattered and none of it had ever been complicated. Not like this. Not until Julian made it that way.

What if he said something?

What if he didn’t?

Either way, he could ruin it.

And losing Ansel—

Julian swallowed hard.

That wasn’t something he knew how to survive. He’d like to blame his family road trips for why he didn’t want to go. But that wasn’t it.

Being around Ansel—like this, uninterrupted—made everything he felt harder to ignore. Stronger. More tempting. While on campus, it was easier. There were always people around. Friends, roommates, classes, distractions. Noise to hide behind. Reasons to never be alone for too long.

But here?

It was just the two of them.

No interruptions. No escape. Just miles of open road—and feelings Julian had done a pretty good job of avoiding until now.

Four hours later, with bathroom and food breaks in between, they finally arrived in Williamsville and checked into Motel 86. Julian felt a wave of relief wash over him. They’d booked separate rooms, which meant he could finally relax.

He glanced at the clock: 11:04 p.m. He’d showered and eaten. And now… he was completely exhausted. Julian sank onto the bed, finally letting himself relax, when a loud clang echoed from the parking lot.

“What now?” he muttered, sitting up.

He peeked through the blinds just in time to see his best friend struggling with the luggage cart. Somehow, he’d managed to lock one of the wheels sideways. The cart wobbled dangerously as a bag tipped over, spilling snacks, clothes, and—Julian swore—an inflatable flamingo onto the asphalt.

“Ansel! Do you need a hand?” Julian shouted, part exasperated, part amused.

He looked up, grinning sheepishly, balancing the flamingo like a trophy. “Nah! I’ve got this under control!”

A minute later, the cart toppled entirely, sending a box of snacks sliding across the parking lot like a slapstick scene from a movie. Julian groaned, covering his face with a pillow.

And just like that, any hope of a quiet night evaporated. Ansel sat on his bed devouring the snacks bought while Julian flipped through the channels on the tv.

Julian watched as he laughed with that ridiculous flamingo, hair catching the motel’s dim light, eyes bright with the kind of careless joy Julian had spent years envying.

Why did it hurt so much to just look?

It was the proximity. The closeness. The way Julian’s mind refused to separate the guy who became his best friend from the one he desired in ways that made his lower stomach burn with heat.

He ran a hand over his face, trying to shove the thoughts away.

No. Not now. Not here.

“Hey… you okay in there?” Ansel’s voice was quiet, careful.

Julian stiffened, sitting up on the bed, heart hammering. “Yeah. Fine.” There was a pause.

“You don’t sound fine.” The red head stated. “You keep fidgeting.”

Julian swallowed. He wanted to brush it off, wanted to hide the fluttering in his chest, the tightness in his stomach, the mess of feelings he had no words for.

“I said I’m fine.” he muttered, but his voice lacked conviction.

“You’re lying.” Ansel said simply. No teasing, no joking. Just that calm certainty that always made Julian want to confess everything and run at the same time.

Julian’s gaze fell to his hands, twisting the bedsheet. “It’s..nothing.” he whispered.

Ansel scooted closer, “Julian whatever it is, you don’t have to carry it alone.”

Julian’s throat tightened. That simple, unassuming statement—this, the way Ansel always seemed to know what to do—hit harder than he expected.

He wanted to tell him. He wanted to say everything. But fear clenched him tighter than any bathroom disaster, tighter than any tire change, tighter than the hours ahead of them.

Because saying it just might break everything.

Ansel tilted his head, waiting. Patient. Silent. Steady.

“Why get two rooms if you’d just end up in my bed?” Julian joked, trying to break the tension.

Ansel shrugged, grinning faintly. “Wasn’t my choice.”

Guilt prickled at Julian. It was true. He’d been the one who jumped at the idea of separate rooms in the first place.

Ansel’s grin slowly faded. He reached out, placing a hand gently on Julian’s thigh.

“Julian.”

The sound of his name hit Julian like a punch—like the oxygen had been knocked out of his lungs.

“Why do you do that?” Ansel asked softly.

“Do what?” Julian managed, confused and flustered.

“Distance yourself.” Ansel said, his voice quiet but steady, trembling just slightly. “Sometimes it feels like we’re one—mind, body, and soul—all connected. And then… you disappear. And I’m left hollow, broken, a man without the elements that made him whole.”

His hands shook, and his chest felt like it would burst. The air between them was thick, heavy with everything he had refused to say for years. Ansel’s hand rested on his thigh, steady and grounding, but it only made the words harder to contain.

“I… I can’t do this anymore.” Julian said, voice breaking. “I can’t… I can’t pretend that I don’t feel this way about you. I’ve felt it for so long, and I’ve tried to ignore it, to bury it, because I was scared—scared of losing you, scared of ruining everything we have. But I can’t. I won’t lie to you anymore. I… I like you, Ansel. I have for years. And I hate that I waited this long, that I—”

He choked on the words, heart hammering, eyes burning.

Ansel’s face softened, but there was no playful grin this time. His eyes darkened with something Julian couldn’t read at first: hurt, longing, worry. Slowly, he leaned forward, voice quiet but edged with intensity.

“Do you have any idea what it’s like to watch you push me away?” Ansel said. “To feel you slipping farther from me every time you hide what’s inside? You think I haven’t noticed? That I wouldn’t have felt it?”

Julian’s stomach twisted. “I—I didn’t want to ruin us. I didn’t want to—”

“Us?” Ansel cut him off sharply, eyes piercing. “You think we’re just… ‘us’ without saying the real words? Without being honest? I’ve been waiting. Waiting for you to take the risk, because I can’t do this alone anymore.”

Julian’s throat closed, guilt and fear coiling tight inside him. “I—”

Ansel’s hand tightened slightly on his thigh. “Say it.” he demanded, voice low but fierce. “Say it, or I swear, Julian, I’ll make you live with this knowing that I know and you ran.”

Julian’s knees shook. The walls they’d built for years, the careful distance he’d maintained, crumbled in an instant. The weight of everything he had hidden pressed down until he could barely breathe.

“I… I love you.” he whispered, voice cracking, raw. “I have for years. I’ve always… always loved you.”

Ansel’s eyes glimmered, fierce and dark, and for the first time, Julian saw the depth of everything he’d been holding back: the longing, the fear, the hurt, the hope.

“Finally.” Ansel breathed, voice trembling. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear that.”

Julian’s heart shattered and mended all at once. Pain, relief, fear, and desire collided in him, and for the first time, he let himself fall into it. There was no humor, no teasing, no easy comfort—just the raw, aching truth of what they felt for each other.

That night, they fell asleep holding each other, the quiet hum of the motel air conditioner wrapping around them. They spoke softly about their past—the moments when they had both secretly longed for—and for the first time, nothing between them felt impossible.

The next morning, Ansel drove them to the Biggest Ball of Rubber Bands. The car ride was quiet, the sun rising over the horizon, painting the world gold as each of them sat in their thoughts.

When Julian looked back on this trip, he wouldn’t remember the flat tire, diarrhea at 7/11, or even the massive rubber ball. He would remember Ansel—his warmth, the weight of his hand in his, their first slow and hungry kiss that had made the world fall away and everything else blur into the background.

The drive home was filled with soft laughter, easy conversation, and the quiet comfort of truth. Julian’s hand found Ansel’s again, squeezing it gently as the car hummed along the open road.

“Heard they found the world’s biggest bee hive.” Ansel teased, eyes glinting mischievously in the sunlight. “Ready for another road trip?”

Julian let out a full, wholehearted laugh, shaking his head. He knew—without a doubt—that he would follow him anywhere. The words slipped out, teasing Ansel evenly.

“Absolutely not!”