A/N: This turned out to be even more babbly than my other fanfic. I don't write these one-shots particularly for the readers- I write them for me. Whenever I feel angsty or depressed I start writing and see where I end up. Surprisingly, I tend to end up with the same sort of story. I'm mostly musing in this, but uploaded just because, I mean, it was written and everything. I will write more Will/Jack ones that aren't one-shots, but after I finish my current stories. So, I guess- enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not have any rights for Will or Jack; I am just using them for my own purposes.

Contemplating Love

Here's the thing, I am in love with my best friend.

This is a problem. I hate that it's a problem. Why do good feelings have to be so muddied up with complications? It's not a bad feeling in itself. It feels like floating, and like all my nerve endings have been charged. It's an exciting feeling. My heart speeds up. And I feel a warmth, starting from my heart and spreading to my fingertips. This isn't even when he is near me, this is just when a simple thought of him floats into my consciousness. When he is around… well, let's just say, that when he's around, my soul fills up to the brim…

And then pain comes. And fear. Why does hurt always follow love?

It started out with just an inkling of feeling. I smiled. A smile in itself is not that uncommon. It was the feeling I had when smiling that caused me to worry. It was love, pure and simple. But I've always loved him, as a friend, so why should this be any different? Because this time it was more than just love. It was an urging. It was indescribable, inexplicable lust. All this from a spasming of muscles in my face.

This moment cannonballed until I was ripping my hair out with confusion. You can't just get feelings, right? We've been friends all these years, why now?

In one day my life flipped upside down, knocking me down. I hated this feeling. I despised it. I wanted to physically rip it out of me. I hate change. To tell you the truth, I am not particularly fond of feelings either. They are messy. And I hate messes.

I am pathetic. I am pathetically in love. I can't get him out of my head. Every little thing reminds me of him. As soon as we part I replay every second of our conversation in my head. I wonder if he's thinking of me, how he's thinking of me. I light up when he walks into the room. My face falls when he leaves. There is no question of whether or not I should tell him. This is going to be a secret. I hope it will go away. These feelings are torturing me, haunting me, casting over me like an obstinate storm cloud.

I hate him. I hate him so much. With every passion-charged fiber of my being I hate him. I hate his mocking laugh and how it is used so often in response to me. I hate his sarcasm, and I especially hate when it makes me laugh so unexpectedly. I hate the way he makes fun of me, to the point of routine. I hate that I secretly live for those jokes. I hate that they make me able to get through my day. I hate his grin when he knows he has gotten to me. And I hate how open he is. How okay with himself he is. Where's his shame? I sure as hell have got some to spare. I hate when he's knowing, when he gets into my head. I hate that he knows me. I hate his flirting and his innuendos. I hate the way he looks when he's sad, like a kicked puppy. And I hate how I feel when it's me that has put that look on his face. I hate that he makes me laugh even when I don't want to. I hate how peaceful he looks when he's sleeping. I hate that I want to kiss him.

He comes in. I look and look. I can't see him anymore. My mind has been jiggled and jumbled into a mess of nerves. He makes a joke… something about me being fat… when I don't retort he comes over. He's looking at me. My heart races wildly. Why does a single look do this to me? I ache for his attention. I ache for his touch and his love. He knows me so well. I HATE that he knows me so damn well. It makes it so incredibly hard to hide.

"Will?"

He asks. Once. Twice. He probably thinks I've had a psychological breakdown. But my voice. I can't speak. I can't even attempt to speak. I am so afraid that the next words out of my mouth will be "I'm in love with you."

I am looking at my hands. Studying the intricate patterns on my fingertips. I can tell Jack is beginning to become nervous. His face is concerned. He crouches down in front of me. I hear him asking me what's wrong. I sit as still as I can. Having the erroneous notion that if I don't respond he'll give up and leave me alone.

Concern has changed to downright anxiety. He wasn't used to having to fix me. I've never been broken. Or I've never let anyone see when I've been broken. Why can't I hide? I'm usually so damn good at it. The cool exterior, the false bravado, the calm demeanor and reassuring voice. I never let my guard down.

But here I was. Putting my fate in someone else's hands.

Jack lifted my face. Peering inquisitively into my eyes. I swam in his eyes. Noticing every change of pigment… dying in his gaze.

He stroked my face. He was so confused. He was so unused to this.

"Will." He repeated. Trying to get me to respond.

I closed my eyes. I felt his lips press against each one of my eyelids, in turn. I shivered. I craved him. I opened my eyes to an even more perplexed Jack. But confusion had never before halted my friend from his actions.

He took my arms and raised me from the chair I was occupying. I reveled in his body heat as he half carried me to the couch. I felt my head being placed in his lap and his soft hands gently stroking my hair. I murmured and hummed, loving his comfort. He sang sweet nonsense and lullabies to me.

I actually fell asleep. This whole thing seemed insane to me. But anything having to do with Jack had its degree of craziness anyway. When I awoke I found Jack awkwardly asleep above me. His chin was resting on his chest and his hair fell in front of his eyes.

I watched as his eyes fluttered open. I smiled up at him. He gazed down at me adoringly and returned the smile. I slowly moved my mouth towards his. Each second my head was telling me to stop. Every second my heart telling me to go on. And as our mouths pressed together I knew I had made the right decision.

A/N: Thank you for reading! This is seriously exactly like my other one-shot, well the plot anyway, I did not even mean to do that. Just started typing. Oh, well. I apologize for the grammar mistakes. I'm not a big fan of sticking to the rules. But besides sentence fragments I don't think I did too badly. PLEASE REVIEW! I live for them, I breathe for them. If you hated it, tell me. If you loved it, tell me. If you didn't really care either way, tell me. I just want to know people read. And I go on this sight everyday so its torture not seeing any new reviews. If you think this can go on to a second chapter or a sequel, I'll see what I can do. I didn't plan it to be that way, but as I reread it I can think up a few things. I decided against going past the kiss, I didn't think it was the point of the story, but I can always add a chapter. But I won't continue unless people tell me too. Ok, thanks very much!