Dylan stirred slowly and snuggled closer to the warmth beside him. He pulled the blanket farther up to his face, sighing into the soft material. His eyes were still heavy, so when he opened them, he didn't register what was in front of him at first.
When he did, though, he sat straight up in the bed. Shit shit shit shit shit. He stumbled out of the bed and looked around the room. His eyes found the wall clock. It was six-thirty. On Sunday.
Chris was still sleeping on the bed, an arm slung carelessly over his eyes and the other still laying where Dylan had had his head just a moment ago. They'd fallen asleep. It hadn't even been that late. After the movie, they'd gone upstairs. They'd talked. Kissed. Talked some more. And fallen asleep, the one thing that Dylan didn't want to do.
"Shit," Dylan hissed. Chris moved, stirring slightly. He opened his eyes slowly, his gaze finding Dylan. "Shit, sorry, I- I gotta go. My parents are going to kill me if I'm not at home when they wake up."
Chris's lips formed into a sleepy smile. "I'll drive you."
He sat up, scooching off the bed.
"Sorry," Dylan repeated. "Mom has induced a partial-grounding while my brother's in town and-"
He was cut off by a soft kiss. Sighing into it, he let his hands rest on Chris's shoulders.
"It's alright, come on," Chris said as he pulled away, still close enough that Dylan felt his breath on his nose. They pulled apart, Chris starting to walk toward the door. Dylan followed down the stairs and grabbed his jacket where it hung on the wall.
Dylan opened the front door, taking a breath of the crisp morning air. The bad weather had still not returned and the sun had started to rise, making the sky a red-ish purple above the houses.
Chris walked in front, passing him in the doorway and continued down the path to his car. Dylan shook himself out of the tiredness that lingered from the night and followed the other boy.
"Do you remember the address?" Dylan asked as he closed the car door. Chris raised an eyebrow.
"I picked you up from there yesterday, if I didn't remember then there would be something very wrong."
"That's true," he smiled.
A few minutes later, way too few minutes in Dylan's opinion, Chris slowed the car and stopped outside Dylan's house.
"Thank you. For the ride. For yesterday," Dylan stretched over the gear shift, letting their lips meet. Chris placed a hand on the back of Dylan's head, pulling him closer still. After a moment, Dylan pulled away with a grin.
"I'll see you at school," Chris returned the smile and Dylan opened the passenger door and got out.
He stood and watched for a minute as Chris drove away, breathing slowly as to try and calm his racing heart. His face burned as he reminded himself of the day prior and the butterflies seemed to have no plan on leaving any time soon.
The front door was already unlocked and he thanked the stars for that. Even the dull thud of the door closing behind him made him cringe and hope that no one was awake already. It was just after eight, but the house seemed too quiet for anyone the be awake.
He crept up the stairs, careful as to not step on the creaking plank halfway up.
Before going to his room, he turned toward the bathroom. He closed the door as softly as he could and turned the light on. Once again, for the hundredth time, his thoughts were: shit.
While most of the deep-purple marks were at the base of his throat and neck, some reached all the way up to his jaw. Damn that Chris. It appeared to be a turtleneck-day today.
"Shit!" He hissed as he stared at his reflection. And, of course, the door opened a moment later. He threw his hands up to cover his neck and stared wide-eyed, fully ready to find his mother standing in front of him.
But it wasn't his mom, it was Riley, and she was wearing a self-satisfied expression.
"I thought I heard you come in," she grinned, letting her eyes drift down to her brother's neck, "damn, Dyl, you let her do that to you?"
"Uh... It was an accident?" Dylan stopped himself from correcting the pronoun. That was a conversation for another time.
"Accident? If you say so," Riley smiled, "wait here." She disappeared from the doorway.
Barely a minute later she returned, a bottle of olive oil in one hand and an ice pack in the other. She started by giving him the icepack.
"Hold it against the higher ones for a minute each," she said and Dylan only stared, "then we'll take this magic worker and rub that in for a while."
"How do you know this stuff?" Dylan sounded baffled, which, in fairness, he was. Riley gave him a long look.
"Look," she started, "I know I tell you a lot, way more than I tell mom and dad, but if you think I tell you everything I do, then you are dead wrong."
Dylan's mouth opened slightly. What did that even mean? Was his sister not a virgin anymore? She was only fourteen. Did she go to parties more than he did and who-
"Okay, now you can take this," she handed him a cotton pad drenched in yellow oil. He took it and stared at it for a moment, then raised his eyes to her. She stared back for about five seconds before moving her own and to her neck and making the movement that he was supposed to be doing.
"Will this make them disappear?" He asked after having rubbed around his neck for a few minutes.
"No," Riley stated, "but it will quicken the healing process. You will need to borrow my makeup if you don't want mom and dad to notice today."
"Are you speaking from experience?" Dylan couldn't resist asking and Riley smiled.
"Maybe I am," she said, "maybe I'm not. You might never know." She made a waving motion in front of his face and backed out of the bathroom. Dylan couldn't help the short laugh that escaped him.
Once the olive oil had dried into his skin a bit, he went to his room and threw himself on the bed. It was still only eight-fifteen if he was lucky, he could sleep for almost two hours. He got out of the clothes that smelled faintly like a mixture of sweat and Chris after having cuddled all night. Then, he wrapped the covers around himself and sighed deeply.
What a night.
__
As he'd expected, the 'family walk' had been as close to hell you could come without being in school, and had mostly consisted of his mother asking William loads of questions about Norway. Ry had very kindly let him borrow both concealer and foundation to hide the bruises that decorated his neck, and he'd chosen to wear a black turtleneck. Just in case.
Now, however, it was Monday morning and he'd just stepped out of his car. Felicia had been looking at him weirdly during the entire car ride there and she still hadn't stopped. She walked closer to him and he gave her a look.
"What are you doing?" He asked as she raised her hand to his neck and pulled down the new, gray, turtleneck before he could stop her. To his surprise, she only raised an eyebrow.
"Wow," she said, sounding completely unphased, "he's... bitey. Not that I'm surprised."
Dylan felt like a deer in headlights. "He-? Bite- you? How could you know?" He spluttered and Felicia smiled with a look that said: 'how could I not?'
"Because I am not completely inexperienced with crushes and I am quite the detective if I do say so myself."
"Maybe that's what you should work as," Dylan huffed as they start to walk toward the school entrance. "But... I have makeup on it, how did you see them?"
Felicia smiled. "Well, first of all, you don't wear turtlenecks often. At all. And secondly, while makeup hides it from far away, the color is a little lighter your skin."
"Yeah, well it's Ry's," Dylan defended, "I didn't have any other choice."
He opened his locker at the same time that she did and threw his bag in, getting his books out. He turned his body toward her when they both had closed their lockers and gave her a serious look.
"Nobody knows... you can't tell anyone," he said.
"Of course I won't. I wouldn't out you before you're ready!" She exclaimed, hurt flashing across her face and Dylan wondered why he had even felt the need to say it. Of course, she wouldn't, this was Felicia, after all.
"But," she proceeded, "you still have to tell me everything."
Dylan grinned. "Later, I promise I will. Right now, though, we have class."
"I would be willing to skip class to hear this," she mumbled and Dylan laughed.
"Yeah, but I wouldn't."
A moment later, Dylan's phone vibrated in his pocket. His heart did a small skip when he saw who it was from.
'Meet me in the hallway?'
Dylan quickly typed a: 'Where and when?'
'At lunch, just go toward the gym.'
'Okay, see you.' Dylan frowned at the cryptic text, but his stomach still fluttered.
"Oh!" Felicia exclaimed from beside him, "is it loverboy?"
"Don't call him that!" Dylan said, "we've only been on one date."
Felicia shrugged. "Still."
"Alright, I'll see you in English," Dylan said as he was going straight and Felicia was turning in the corridor.
"See you."
__
Dylan had told Felicia that he wouldn't be eating when they were in English class. She'd gotten a little worried because 'you have to eat!' but he'd calmed her down by hissing that he was meeting Chris. She'd smirked and nodded in understanding.
So, now Dylan was walking down the almost empty corridor toward the gym where Chris had said they'd meet.
As he turned down yet another hallway, a door behind him opened and a hand shot out, grabbing him by the wrist. A moment later, he was standing in a dim room. The light was turned on and he found himself only inches from Chris's grinning face.
"A janitor's closet?" He laughed, "how much more cliché can this become?"
"Did you get my reference?" Chris asked, resting his hands on Dylan's shoulders.
"'Meet me in the hallway'? Of course, I did," Dylan grinned. "Though, I must break it to you... this is not a hallway."
Chris chuckled, inching even closer.
Dylan sighed as their lips met, letting all the tension in his back go. His back hit the wall a minute later, their lips still connected.
"Hey," Dylan breathed as he pulled back as far as he could in the small space, "I have to ask you because I didn't before, but how did the science project go?"
Chris's eyes searched his for a moment before they lit up in glee and his face split into a wide grin. "I got a B, thanks to you."
"That's wonderful!" Dylan replied, once again pressing their lips together, burying his fingers into Chris's soft locks. Chris smiled into the kiss, pulling Dylan closer.
Too soon, though, the bell rang from outside of the closet and Chris took a step back to give Dylan more space. "How about we meet on Friday?" He asked.
Dylan smiled. "Sure." He was quiet for a moment before his eyes widened. "Wait, it's Thursday you have a match with your old team, right?"
Chris nodded with a heavy sigh. "Yeah."
"So... can I come?" Sure, he remembered that last time they talked about it, they'd fought. But he also remembered that it had been their first kiss, and he really wanted to go. Chris seemed to hesitate.
"I don't know, I still don't think it's a good idea-"
"I'll bring Felicia," Dylan pleaded. Chris sighed.
"Fine," he said finally, and Dylan could see the ghost of a smile on his lips.
A moment later, the warning bell rang, startling Dylan.
"Shit, alright, I gotta run-" he was stopped by Chris lips once again, the quick kiss making him smile.
"See you," Chris returned the smile as Dylan quickly left the small room and hurried toward his locked, not wanting to be later than he already was.
///