By Madasonaysha@aol.com - February 21 2005
What the hell was I doing? I was willingly walking towards danger. What the fuck was wrong with me!? I knew I shouldn‘t , but it was like I was compelled to follow Nate. There was this unseen force that ushered me forward. Nate had his arm around my shoulders, guiding me into the darkened depths of woods. As if a switch had been flipped, I snapped out of my reverie. In that brief moment my instincts kicked in. I realized just what was happening and I wasn’t going to allow it. I was sick of being scared and sick of being a target and that night I wasn’t going to be either. I was as much as a man as he was and he was going to realize that. Just as the heading of the woods were approaching I shuck his arms off of me and took off, whipping past the leaves of the bushes. They hit my face as if they wanted me to turn around and stop, but nothing could stop me. Nate made an attempt to come after me, but I was back into the safe arms of the street lights and around the comfort of strangers so he retreated.
As I ran, People were looking at me like I was crazy. I heard a few people making jokes, calling me Carl Lewis but that only made me pump my feet harder. I ran and ran until I couldn’t run anymore. I was the furthest thing from an athlete, but I was amazed with how far I ran in such a short amount of time. Past the crack heads and the other undesirables, I just ran. Down the dank blocks and past all the dilapidated housings, past the liquor stores and Chinese food restaurants,I ran, I just ran. I would not let him make a victim out of me. Not that night and not ever if I could help it. I had a strength inside of me that night that I had never known was there.
That night I slept peacefully. A first since the death of my parents Dan and Jamie. No bad dreams or feelings of unease. Nate could only hurt me if I let him. There was nothing special about him. He was just a regular person like anyone else. Yeah, he had this uncanny ability to produce fear in me, that was still true. But, I wasn’t the same frightened five year old with the tears on his face. No, I was the sixteen year old soon to be man who could hold his head up high. Some time during the night I had an epiphany. I was in control of the things that went on in my life and no body else. It’s funny, Nate was the one who helped me realize that. The one person who I hated and feared the most was the one person responsible for my liberation. In a sense, I was still a little afraid of him. He had been scaring the shit out of me for months and that kind of fear just doesn’t disappear over night, but I wasn’t AS scared of him and that’s what mattered. Would I ever risk the chance on being alone with him some where? HELL NO! But, I wouldn’t panic if I was. His hold over me was broken and it felt good to know that. It was about time that I started getting some control on things. First, it was with Nate. Now it was Joey’s turn. I know he wanted me, that was obvious. He was just scared of what he was feeling. So was I, but I wouldn’t let that stop me. He wasn’t going to run away from something that we both wanted. We would be together if it killed me.
I walked into art class that morning with two agendas. One, talk to Joey and two, make plans to hang out with him later that day. I took my seat across from him and he didn’t even acknowledge my presense. He was still unsure of himself around me and I am not going to lie, it felt good knowing that I could bring that reaction out of someone.
"Hey Joey." I said to him. He looked up and our eyes met briefly before he looked back down at the table.
"What’s up son." He responed unenthusiastically. He was trying to keep the conversation short, but I wasn’t going to let him.
" I thought we could work on the sketch today. My Aunt has to work late…AGAIN and you can come over so we don’t have to bother your family." He looked at me skeptically.
"What do you mean, ‘why today?’ Why NOT today. You scared to come over?" I was praying that my reverse psychology would work. Judging from the way his fingers nervously tapped on the art table I thought that maybe it was.
"Scared for what? Yeah, we can work on it today, but come to my house. I don’t want to be caught around your way when it’s dark. Dem Westie cats be coming out full force and I don’t feel like dealing wit ass dat bullshit today."
"Okay your house it is. After school?"
"How about five." He said.
"Why so late?" I asked. He looked up and met my eyes briefly, but then his eyes went right back down to the floor. I’ll admit it, he was acting kind of cute. Like a scared little kid.
"Err….I have something to do after school so just come around five or five thirty……cool?"
"Yeah that’ cool." I smiled at him, but he was too busy occupied with the tile work of the floor to see. He didn’t realize it then, but by the end of the night he would be mine.
Everyone was still talking about how good Loco‘s party had been. You know a party was fun when people are still talking about it four days later. All I had been hearing was how "raw" the party was, but in my opinion it was pretty average. The only good thing was that he had an unlimited supply of alcohol and if judging from all the red eyes, he must have had an amble supply of weed. That was one thing I would be sure not to smoke again. The high wasn’t bad or anything, but I didn’t see what the big deal was. Andy and Wes use to get high all the time and when I say all the time, I mean ALL THE TIME! Then one day they just stopped. I never knew why and when I asked them about it they would say that they were over the whole "getting high" thing. I thought that there was more to it, but I never pressed it. I didn’t see what the big deal with weed was. All it did was relax me, but that liquor was a different story. I don’t care what some people may tell you, alcohol is NOT your friend!
I had done my best the whole day to avoid Kayla, but I wasn’t so fortunate when lunch came around. I thought that she would have been all over me, but she wasn’t. In fact, it seemed that she was trying her best to avoid me too. I knew she was probably embarrassed with how aggressive she was that night, but I wanted to let her know that I didn’t think differently of her. The truth was that I did, but she didn’t need to know all of that. On the surface she’s this sweet, nice girl on student council, but get a few drinks and a little weed in her and she becomes Lil’ Kim. She sat down across the table from me and didn’t even acknowledge me with a hello. After catching her staring at me for the fifth time I asked her if she wanted to go talk in the hallway and she hesitantly agreed. Amanda just had to throw her two cents in.
"Now remember, there is ABSOLUTELY NO SEX IN THE CHAMPAGNE ROOM." She said and I shot her a dirty look. Kayla looked away embarrassed and Peanut chuckled under his breath.
"I’m guessing you know from personal experience?" I asked.
"Yeah sure, me and Peanut got caught twice last year." Peanut looked over at Amanda and his laughter stopped. His body language became fidgety and I would have swore that little beads of sweat started form around his forehead. The better I got to know him, the more I noticed that he could be extremely shy when it came to girls. I didn’t think that he was gay or anything like that, just a little intimidated by the opposite sex. Around all of the guys he would clam up when the talk came around to sex. Even I had the decency to make pretend that I related to what everyone was talking about, but not Peanut. He would just keep quiet and shake his head in amusement at the stories we would hear. Amanda looked at him sideways and chuckled to herself as she sipped on her chocolate milk. Kayla and I went into the hallway, but your not suppose to wander the halls during lunch, so we ducked under stair case so the lunch aides wouldn’t see us. People normally went under the stairs to make out our light up a cigeratte. The exit door was right next to the stair case so in case you were doing something that you weren’t suppose to, you could make a quick get away. I could tell that Kayla wanted to be any where else then alone with me under that stair case. She avoided my eyes and we stood there in silence for what felt like an hour, but was more like a minute.
"So….Hey Kayla…" I said. I didn’t know how to start the conversation. The sudden nervous feeling that I was all too sure of that morning I would never feel again, returned only now it was different.
"Hey Chris…..how was your weekend?" She replied. She was just as nervous as I was.
"Good, I had one hell of a hang over on Saturday, but I’m fine now."
"Yeah me too…..so…" She said looking away. I put my hands in my pockets and started to rock on back and forth on the heels of my feet. A nervous habit I picked up from my dad Dan.
"So….." I replied. I guess I was a man of few words. I didn’t know how to start it off. In my head I had the perfect conversation planned. I would tell her that I wasn’t upset with what happened Friday night and I would let her down easy, but for some reason, I couldn’t find the right words to say. Lucky for me I didn’t have to.
"Well listen…I’m sorry with how crazy I acted at the party…….You know…..too much weed and shit…well…I’m just sorry." She blurted out in one long sentence.
"No, it’s cool. That’s what I wanted to talk about. I just wanted to make sure that you didn’t think I was mad at you..or something."
"Most guys would be. I made you think that we were going to have sex and then I just ran out on you. I’m sorry." She looked upset so I gave her a little hug. Just then I heard the exit door open and that loud crazy ass laugh that could only belong to Loco.
"Ay Yo! What up kid! You picking up where you left off at the party?" Loco Joked and Kayla looked on embarrassed. I could smell the weed off of his clothes and I knew he had most likely been lighting up a blunt outside with no fear of getting caught. Some of the teachers actually cared about us, but the majority were only there to collect a check. Kenny was with Loco, but he didn’t look he had been smoking. I really didn’t know Kenny all to well. I knew like Loco he was Portuguese, but he looked more like a white boy then Joey did. Kenny had bright blonde hair and green eyes. He didn’t have too much of an accent unless he was talking to someone else who was Portuguese. He was fat, no getting around it. It was obvious he was a Eastie because he wore the red sweat band cuffs around his wrists. East High School had a strict policy on the wearing of bandanas or any other head coverings. I guess in the early nineties they had a real bad gang problem and instituted that rule to stop the fighting between the different gangs. Amanda told me that if a rival gang member snatches the bandana (or how it is referred to by a gang, their "flag") of a rival gang member, then they get a lot of respect from their fellow gang members. The "flags" represented everything that a gang stood for and when a rival gang would have possession of it, then it was like everything they stood for then meant nothing because someone who wasn’t apart of their organization had it. To me the whole thing just sounded stupid. All anyone had to do was go to a clothing store, pay two bucks and by one, you didn‘t have to be in a gang to know that. To avoid any type of problems, the school banned them. But, the gangs were smart. Instead of carrying around their "flags" and risk getting expelled, they started to wear sweat bands or for the girls hair ties, in the color of their gangs. I had seen the red of the Easties, the green of the Westies and the yellow of a gang whose name I didn’t know. It was all so pointless.
"No, me and Kayla were just talking." I said.
"Hey did you see that game on Saturday?" Loco asked. Oh boy, he was in one of his mood where he would be jumping from topic to topic.
"What game?" I asked. I really had no idea what game he was talking about. I didn’t really follow sports, but I had a weakness for The Yankee’s. One thing that I picked up from my dad was an unnatural love for the baseball and all things that were "The New York Yankee’s".
"The basketball game…you know Philly verses Orlando?"
"No, I don’t watch basketball. I’m a baseball man." I told him.
"Shit son, you mad whack! How you not gonna watch basketball-Oh, Kenny you gotta cop your shit from Joey now cause he busy after school." Loco said, turning his attention to Kenny. My attention was sparked at the mention of Joey.
"Why can’t I get my stash after school?" Kenny asked.
"Cause he gonna be getting some from Mercy." Loco said with a smirk on his face. I looked at him curiously. ‘Was that the reason the Joey told me to come over so late?’ I asked to myself. Was he gonna be sleeping with Mercy? My first reaction was to get angry. I knew that I had no claim to him, but I couldn’t help it. I really, really, liked him and the thought of him with anyone else, boy or girl was upsetting. The anger faded as my resolve to get Joey to come to terms with his feelings for me returned.
The rest of the day flew by and I was sitting on the number 66 bus with Amanda. I was anxious to see if what Loco said was true and couldn‘t get off the bus quick enough. Amanda questioned me as to why I was getting off six bus stops before my usually one and I made up same lame excuse of having to go to the post office. She offered to come with me, but I told her it wasn’t necessary and rushed off before she could protest. It was ten minutes past three by the time I reached Joey’s house. I went to the back of his house to knock on his door. He has his own separate entrance in the back that leads to his basement bedroom. His backyard was neat and trim and a small cocker spaniel puppy started yapping as soon as it saw me. He must have just gotten it because it wasn’t there last time I was at his house and he never mentioned it. The dog was cute with its big brown eyes and beige colored curly hair, but it just would not be quiet. I knocked on the door three times and got no response. I was about to knock again when I heard Joey’s voice yelling at someone from the front of his house. I was afraid that Joey would come out and find me lurking in his back yard, so I ran back to the front of his house, but stopped short when I recognized the voices. I hid in the pathway that was between his backyard and front yard. The yelling was coming from that annoyingly, artificially, baby soft voice of "The Bitch", I mean Mercedes.
"What the fuck do you mean you don’t want to get back together?" Mercedes screamed.
"Why are you tripping, I never said that I wanted to get back with you. Shit girl, you offered to come over and braid my hair, you ain’t say nothing about fucking." Joey yelled back at her.
"Why don’t we go inside….and talk." She said in a softer voice. It was easy to tell that she was just trying to get on his good side, but he wasn’t even trying to listen to her.
"You know my mom’s don’t let girls come in when she’s not home. I ain’t even trying to hear her mouth if she find out. You can do my hair on the porch." He said. I smiled. I knew he wouldn’t mess around with her. Yeah, she was pretty, but God she was trashy. I waited in that pathway for close to ten minutes, afraid of Joey seeing me. I crept back into the backyard to try and find some way for me to escape without being caught. The puppy was asleep and I saw that Joey’s backyard was connected with a neighbors, so all I would have to do is hop a little fence and I would be home free. I had just made it to the fence when at that exact moment, little cocker decided to wake up and start barking. I heard Joey’s footsteps coming, along with the clacking of cheap high heel shoes, down the walkway. My quick thinking saved me from dying of complete embarrassment.
"Chris? Why are you playing with my dog?" Joey asked me. I put down the puppy, who was licking my face, and I tried to think of something to say.
"Ahhhh…Hey Joey. What’s up Mercedes. I forgot what time you said to come over so I just came straight over here." I said, but I don’t think he bought my lie. A little smirk came over his face. Half of his head was braided in fresh corn rows and the other half of his head was a wild mess of crimps and curls from where he had just taken out the old ones. The one problem with his kind of hair is that braids don’t last more than two or three days before they start to look raggedy. Mercedes looked anything but pleased to see me, but from the fake smile she gave me, it was hard to tell.
"Hey Chris boo!" She said as she leaned into to hug me, albeit half heartedly, but I returned it with even less enthusiasm. "Why don’t you come back it an hour… so me and Joey can finish up." She continued.
"No, Mercy, Chris can stay." Joey said and Mercedes arched her already too highly arched eyebrow in protest.
"You know what, why don’t you too do what ever it is that you have to do and I’ll finish your hair tomorrow." Mercedes said and walked off without so much as a good bye. Joey looked relieved to see her leaving and as our eyes met, he became nervous. He picked up his dog and headed for towards his basement entrance. He said nothing and neither did I. I had the whole scenario played out in my head, but now that the opportunity was in front of me, I had no clue as to what to do. Joey disappeared upstairs for a few minutes before returning with two sodas. I sat in a chair by his desk and he sat on his bed, both of us too nervous to say anything until finally the moment was broken.
"So, lets do this." Joey said as he took out his sketch pad and charcoal pencil.
"Yeah, where do you want me?" I asked and started to blush as I realized how I might have sounded. Joey noticed to, as I saw a flush of heat travel up his neck and slowly creep up his cheeks before spreading to the tips of his ears. He was so white!
"Right there in the chair is fine." He kept picking at the few freshly down braids that he had in his head like they were bothering him. Most people would not have been able to look as attractive as he did with half of his head done and the other half a wild tangle of crimps, waves and curls.
"Why are you picking at your hair?" I asked, trying to start a conversation about anything. As if he suddenly become self conscious, he immediately stopped twirling at his hair, like a child who had just been scolded by his mother.
"No reason, I just hate having half of my hair done. Its just doesn’t feel right." He mumbled and began to tap the charcoal pen against the bare white paper of the sketch pad. He was leaving dark gray traces with each tap.
"That because its throwing off your equilibrium." I said. I really had no clue what I was talking about, but I just wanted the conversation to keep flowing. He looked up at me in confusion.
"Balance, you’re feeling unbalanced because your hair is only half done." I knew I wasn’t making any since and so did he. He smirked and looked at me with one eyebrow cocked up.
"Shut up." He laughed and shook his head back and forth. I laughed too, not because I found anything funny, but because his laugher was contagious. The tension had eased up and I was felt daring.
"If you want, I could help you take them out." I told him. I couldn’t look him in the eyes as I said it so I just stared at the familiar posters on his wall. I noticed the one of Tyra Banks was no longer up there. He looked apprehensive and started to unconsciously twirl the cross of Jesus that hung around his neck. I knew he was thinking it over and before he got the chance to say no, I had already made my way to his bed and sat next to him with my back against his head board. I instructed him to get on the floor and rest his against my lap so I could have easy access. I thought it was a cheap move and didn’t think that he would fall for it, but he did. I could see that he was uncomfortable with the position his neck was in, yet he said nothing about it. I was getting excited with the sight of his head in my lap and had to casually push back against the bed occasionally.
I slowly began to untangle his soft hair, letting my fingers dangle gently, intertwining with the soft, light brown silk that he had for hair. He closed his eyes and began to lean back lower and lower until he head was resting completely against the insides of my legs. The expected happened again, but thankfully he couldn’t feel it from the position his head was in. It only took a few minutes before I had all the braids a loose and his light brown hair lay sprawled out against my denim covered legs. Little peaks sun light shined through the small windows that were high above his, bed illuminating his hair to appear almost golden in color. My fingers continued to play with it, amazed at the variation of the textures of our hair. Mine was short, slightly rough and tightly curled where as his was long and extremely soft. Pardon me for sounding really gay, but it really was like touching silk.
His eyes were closed and he made no attempt to move away. I kept running my fingers through his hair as he sighed. I looked down to study the contours of his face. His nose was kind of small, with a pointed bridge, but it suited him well. His eyebrows and long eyelashes were a shade darker than the hair on his head. The slight cleft of his chin was noticeable, like it always was when he seemed to be in deep thought. His eyes flashed open, startling me with a flood of crystal blue. His eyes should have looked cold, but held a warmth in them that calmed me. He slowly began to bring his head upwards. I didn’t realize that I was lowering my head until our lips had touched. Slowly, almost timidly we shared our fourth kiss. My neck was aching from the position that it was in, but I ignored that. He snaked his tongue out to meet mine. I grabbed a fistful of his thick wavy hair and guided his head with the movements of mine. He in return placed his hands on the back of my head and intensified the kiss bringing me down closer to his body. I knew how it was going to end and I had to say something so the same thing that happened the two previous times, wouldn’t happen again. I tried pulling back from the kiss and at first he wouldn’t let me. It wasn’t until my fourth attempt that I was able to finally break us apart. Looking down at his baggy jeans, I could see he was worse off, or better off depending how you looked at it, then I was. I moved across the room and sat in his desk chair as he remained sitting on his bed with one leg tucked under the other. His red Jersey hung loosely over his shoulders, making him look smaller than his actual six foot frame was. His breathing was as heavy as the confusion on his face was.
"We can’t keep doing this. You can’t keep doing this to me!" I yelled and he looked at me sorrowfully. It wasn’t until that moment that I realized just how frustrated with the whole situation I really was. This swarm of anger just lashed out at him. My plan of gently helping him come to terms with himself went right out the window as my aggravations with the whole situation came out.
"I know…." He whispered and he couldn’t even look me in the eye. I calmed down a little and moved up and sat next to him.
"You need to know that I’m gay…..and I really like you….in that way." I put my hand on his shoulder and felt it tremble beneath my hand. He looked away and put his head in his hands and rested his elbows on his thighs. His hair spilled down his face, hiding it from my eyes. He took a deep breath and sighed as he let it out.
"I know…." He whispered.
"And…your gay…..?" I asked carefully. His shoulders shook with even more force and I heard the most God awful sound that I hope to never hear again. It came out as a hushed scream, filled with agony and ache that only a lifetimes of hiding can produce. He turned towards me and his face was dripping with tears and I could see the shame on his face. He made no sounds. I knew he felt like less than a man for crying, especially in front of me. I wiped away a few of his tears and he grabbed my hand, gripping it forcefully. His face twisted in anger and his grip on my hand grew so tight that I could feel the tips of my fingers begin to tingle as they numbed. I winced and tried to move out of his grasp, but he only made it tighter.
"YEAH….I’M GAY! HAPPY NOW? I WAS FINE UNTIL I MET YOU!! YOU HEAR ME!!! FUCKING FINE!!!!THEN YOU COME ALONG AND FUCK SHIT UP FOR ME! WHY DID YOU DO THIS TO ME? HUH! WHY!!GOD!! I HATE YOU!!!!" He yelled. Little bits of his saliva hit me in the face with the force of his words. At that moment I was honestly afraid of him. I had never seen that side of him. Before that point, everything had been shy smiles and discrete touches. That had all changed to hateful glares and accusations. I never thought that I would me scared of him, but all I wanted to do was get out of there. I tried to move, but I couldn’t get out of his grasp.
"Joey, let go-----YOUR HURTING ME!!!" I half yelled, half pleaded. His grip just grew tighter and tighter until both of his hands were squeezing each of my wrists. I had never seen such a look of anger on anyone’s face before. I yelled at him again to let me go, but he didn‘t. His sudden forcefulness had thrown me off at first and I wasn’t prepared. The brief fear that I felt was replaced with rage. I wasn’t going to let him just put his hands on me like that. "JOEY! LET ME THE FUCK GO! GET THE FUCK OFF ME! I LOVE YOU DAMNIT!" I yelled and he immediately let go. I didn’t mean for him to hear me say that I loved him. I didn’t even realize until after I had said it, that I did love him. I was in love with him. I was in love with him and all I wanted to do was get away from him. He shook his head, disgusted by himself. He turned to me with a saddened face and spoke in a whisper.
"God!!! I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. God! I’m so sorry!" He pleaded with me to forgive him, but I was pissed. I looked down at my wrists to see the discolorations that were on them. He had squeezed me so hard that I could see his finger prints embedded on my skin. I was so pissed at him that I thought I would hit him. I moved past him and went to the door to leave, but he ran after me to stop me. He jumped in front of the door so I couldn’t leave.
"WAIT! I’M SORRY!! I’m so sorry. How do you know you love me?" He didn’t look at me, but at the floor. It was like he suddenly had this fascination with the fibers of his carpet. The more he avoided my stare, the angrier I became. I knew the disdain that I felt for him at that moment was present in my voice,
"I don‘t know….I just do…". I sighed and my heartbeats began to beat faster and faster. I could hear each thumb vibrate inside of my ears. It was like I was suddenly aware of everything that went on around me. I hadn’t known him that long, but there was no denying it, I did love him and at that moment I hated that fact.
"I think that I might….. love you too….." He said slightly detached, still unable to meet my eyes. He was crying again only this time the only thing I saw was sorrow in his face. He was crying because he had just admitted something that he thought he never would. He was crying because he hurt me and thought that he was too late. If I wasn’t still so upset with the whole ordeal, I might have been tempted to shed a tear or two at the sight of him, but I didn’t.
"SAY IT AGAIN! I yelled. I wanted to hear it again. I grabbed his hair to make him look at me. He looked at me and leaned down. He gave me the most gentlest of kisses. Not a kiss of passion, but one of reassurance. It melted away some of the anger that I had felt. He pulled back and looked down at me and smiled.
"Yeah, I think I do. I think I love you." Fear was still on his face, but when I placed his hands in mine, a little bit of it faded away. We walked over to his bed and sat down, saying nothing. We both were staring at our intertwined hands, not looking at anything else. I looked into his face and he looked into mine.
"You sure?" I asked. I needed to hear him say it. That way I would be sure I wasn’t making the worst mistake of my life.
"Yeah, I think I am. God! I am so scared of this! I didn’t want this for my life, but with you….it….it just…..it feels right. You know?" He said and half smiled. His face was tear streaked and his hair was a mess, but in that moment he had never looked more beautiful.
He leaned down and kissed me again, pushing me back until my back lay on top of his navy blue comforter. He laid down on top of me with his legs on the outside of mine. He was kind of heavy, but I didn’t want to break the mood so I kept quiet about it. His hands snaked up my shirt and he slowly began to rub his hands up and down my bare back. He stopped for a moment and looked like he was going to stop. I was preparing myself for yet another let down, but he surprised me with a grin. He pulled off his shirt to reveal a lean, slightly muscular body. He wasn’t overly developed, he just had a natural toned build and his skin was a little white, but not pale. His head was covered by his shirt and I took that opportunity to switch things around. I tackled him to the bed and laid on top of him. I playful nipped at one of his soft pink nipples. Surprised, he squeaked out a moan that caused me to laugh. He smirked and asked me what was so funny as I moved up to kiss his mouth again. His mouth was warm and I tasted faint traces of mouth wash. ‘That’s why he took so long upstairs’ I thought to myself. I ran his nipple through my fingers and the same squeaky moan erupted from his throat once again and we both laughed between our kisses. I don’t know how long we made out for, but the sketch had long been forgotten. We both needed to catch our breathes and ease the tension in our pants so I pulled back and just laid in his arms. I had this urge to just yank my hand inside of his boxers, but I quickly pushed that thought out of my mind. We had just started things and I didn’t want to rush things. My shirt was still on, albeit half way off, but still on, and his shirt had long been thrown down to the floor. My head was resting against his arm and I turned to look at him. We both stared at each other, studying the other. He took one hand and gently swept it down my cheek and leaned over to gently kiss the tip of my nose. I stuck my tongue out to lick the cleft on his chin and so began the continuation of our kissing. I ran my fingers across both of his nipples this time and that familiar squeaky moan once again exuded from him causing me to laugh once again. He laughed hard this time and rolled us over so that I was on top of him. I was straddling his legs and I could feel both of our erections touching each other through our clothes. I grinded myself into him slightly and he immediately sat up and kissed me. He helped me take my shirt off and cast it down to the floor next to his. Once my shirt was off, he took on of my nipples between his fingers and rolled it around roughly. All I felt was pain briefly before I felt this subtle pleasure and my own squeaky moan erupted. He laughed at me and said ‘See, it feels good don’t it.’ I moaned a yes and laid back down on him to kiss him again. I began to grind myself harder and harder into him as our kisses deepened. Soon we were both panting and couldn’t even kiss anymore so we just sucked on the others tongue. I felt him struggling to unbuckle his belt and I went to help him. We were about to get down to some serious business when the sound of Interpol’s song ‘Obstacle One’ started to ring loudly startling us apart. We looked around the room until I realized that it was my cell phone and I recognized the ringer tone. It was Aunt Mickey and she told me that I needed to come home because Roger was taking us out. Roger had been doing that a lot lately and the more time that I spent with him, the more he grew on me. Joey sighed out of content as we tried spend our last moments snuggled up in each other‘s arms. My arms over his shoulders and his over mine, pulling us tightly into an embrace that made our legs rest over each others. He broke the serenity of the moment with six little words that made me melt.
"Chris?" He asked. I thought that he was going to tell me that I should get ready to go before I was late and I disentangled myself from his arms.
"Yeah?" I said as I looked up into those pools of cold winter’s ice that warmed my heart….and the inside of my thighs.
"Want me to walk you home?" I looked at him and smiled. It was dark out and I knew that he shouldn’t be walking around my way alone that late and I wasn’t going to let him. But, the thought that he would take that risk for me was enough to make me want to stay forever with him, snuggled up in his bed. I told him that if he tried walking me home, I would beat his ass. We both laughed because he knew that I couldn’t even if I tried. We kissed in his bedroom for a little while longer before he walked me to the bus stop. The bus would get me home in five minutes and the walk would have taken close to a half and hour. The weather was back at its normal fall temperature and my jacket wasn’t doing much to keep me warm, but the thought of Joey holding me did. He waited with me the ten minutes that it took the bus to come. We kept complimenting each other about the simplest things. I had never felt so much joy and giddiness in my life than I did that day with him. I looked at him through the bus window and we watched each other’s grinning faces until we couldn’t see each other. The last thing I saw was his silhouette waving goodbye as my bus turned that corner, leading me away from his neighborhood and into mine. I sat back in my seat, smiling to myself. I knew that I was in love and so did he. I can’t explain the joys of knowing that your in love and that the same feeling is returned. It felt like it took us so long to get to that point and no matter all the aggravation and annoyance that I felt, the journey had been worth it. That day was one of the happiest of my life. The smile of my face become broader and broader as the realization of what had just happened continued to sink in. He was mine. He was mine and I was his! Nothing could come between us and that’s how I planned on keeping it………