Humor Me
Disclaimer: This is a story about a romantic relationship between two teenage males. If that kind of story offends you, then please do not read the following story. Also, if you are under the legal age to read stories of this type, then don't. Please do not reproduce this story without permission, since that is a copyright infringement.
Wow. Your feedback has been very kind, even to one who is admittedly a little lax on answering his e-mail. I thank you all for your patience, and hope you still like the story. I started Chapter 5 today, and I feel like I'm finally (finally! hitting my stride with this story. Once again, comments go to dreamer@shell.monmouth.com.
-Chapter 3-
We all have it. Admit it.
Every one of us has an inner voice. Some folks refer to it as their conscience, others say it's their inner child, and for some, it is their gut instinct. It's going to be different for everyone, in accordance to their own personal beliefs and ethical code, so no two people are going to have the exact same inner voice. But whatever it is, it's there. There's that voice inside you that speaks up, telling you what to do, or to think, or to say. And, most of the time, that inner voice, that first reaction, is dead right.
At that moment, my own inner voice was speaking up to me. What was being said was something like this: Jonas, shut /up./ Stop analyzing, stop being so reflective, and kiss him back you stupid shit!
Well, of course I was going to do that, since I was pretty much rooted to the spot where I was sitting on the floor of the tent. And, because I was being kissed. By Mike. Oh, God...
The edges of his lips pushed against mine, chaste and trembling with hesitation. Hesitating, but oh, so soft. I closed the final gap, of all of about two centimeters, to do as my inner voice commanded. My eyes drifted shut slowly, as if I were falling asleep, pulled slowly and inexorably down into darkness. But, this was the good kind of darkness; a comforting one of rest and shelter as opposed to just the absence of light and everything else. I heard him gasp, inhaling sharply through his nose before letting out in a warm, content sigh, and the taste of Altoids still lingered on his lips.
I had had a more intensive kiss when I kissed Dani, that one time. But, this was way different. Not even that we didn't swap spit, here. But...it felt cool. I didn't feel as awkward as I did when I kissed Dani. I liked Dani, but what I felt for Mike was different. And that did make the kissing different. I hate it when she's right.
A few seconds of that quiet meeting of lips, and Mike pulled away, slowly. My eyes opened, focusing on his face. It was like looking at a different person: his jaw was slightly open, and the look in his eyes was one of worry, and more than a little nervousness. For my part, with a smile creeping across my face, I just sat there in the same spot, motionless.
Silence reigned for a few minutes as we studied each other's face. I saw Mike relax as his blue-gray eyes went alight, glimmering in vague amusement. There, that was the same Mike I knew. The one I loved being around. The one who just...kissed me? Holy shit. He just kissed me.
He waves a hand in front of my face. "Jonas?" I didn't...hell, I couldn't say anything. I was afraid to snap that mood. Help me, I wanted to kiss him again.
He chuckled, again, and I felt my heart bust at such a familiar sound. It was like touching reality again. But, do I want reality? What is reality? He waved his hand in front of my eyes, once more. "Oh, crap," he said. "I think I killed him."
Yeah, that's Mike all right.
It was too much to hold in. It felt like the blood throbbing in my veins was trying to push itself out through my skin, and everything tightened. I bowed my head, and just started to laugh. Not just chuckling, but a /real/ laugh; loud, gasping, and totally relief-inducing. I could feel the tears sending warm streaks down the sides of my face. I felt myself fall forward, throwing out my hands to stop myself before another pair of arms caught me before I smacked against the ground.
In a dizzying motion, I was spun around, the world going around in a swirl of green-and-beige canvas until I was facing the ceiling of the tent. A pair of arms circled around me, my head and back cradled by something warm and soft. Or, I should say, someone.
"Come on, Jonas," Mike said. "I don't kiss that bad."
I tilted my head back, until I could see his face myself. That same smile. "It's not you," I replied. "I mean...I thought you kissed just fine, and...well..."
Mike used a thumb to wipe the tears off my face. "Aww," he said, squeezing me with the arm he still had wrapped around my waist. "I think I get it now. First crush, right?"
I mutely nodded.
"And...is this why you've been acting so fucked up the last week?"
Again, I nodded. Batting a thousand so far.
I felt him press his face against the top of my head, inhaling. It wasn't like I was being touched much, but all of it felt so good. A chill rose up from the base of my spine, setting my body to shivering. Once more, the arms were tight around my stomach, his hands rubbing up and down against my sides.
"Shh," Mike said. "It's okay. Talk to me. I need to hear it from you, but say what's in your head."
"I have a crush on you," I admitted. Granted, it was said earlier, but he said he wanted to hear me. "I mean, a really bad one. Since we met. I think I'm gay."
"You think?" Mike asked, with a short laugh. I looked back up at him, studying his face once more. He was smiling, and sprouted more than a little color in his cheeks.
"Well...yeah. You were right about this being my first crush. It was freaking me out, because I liked you, as a person, and as more than a friend. I thought if I told you I...liked you, you'd be hurt, since it seemed like it was an ulterior motive to hang out with you."
"Well, Jonas, it is an ulterior motive."
"Quiet, peasant," I retorted. His eyebrows lifted, as a smirk pulled at the corners of his mouth. "I'm not done. This week, it just got to be too much. I didn't think you...felt the same way, and that you'd be hurt if you found out I had it bad for you. I didn't want you hating me, so I thought if I were out of your life, you wouldn't hurt over it."
I got a hug out of it. "You're an idiot," Mike said. And part of me realized I deserved that.
"Yeah. I didn't think you'd hurt over me not being your friend."
"But you mean more to me than that."
Blink. "So...you're not just trying to make me feel better?" I asked.
Mike sighed, and let me go. Gently, he lowered me down so I was lying on the ground, and lay down next to me. "I was trying to do that," he said, tracing my breastbone with his finger. "Make you feel better. And it hurt bad when you started pushing me away. I thought you knew, and hated me for it."
"Knew what?"
"That I have it bad for you, too. Pretty much since I walked you home from the park when you crashed. You caught my attention before that, in class, but when I saw you crash, I felt something bust inside, because I was suddenly scared, and I knew."
I sighed, squirming a little. "I didn't. I really don't know what I'm doing," I admitted. I saw the smile in his eyes again, and turned my head away, when I felt my chest tighten again. Why did I hurt, still? Nothing was making sense.
I heard Mike get back up, and pressed his hands on the opposite sides of my chest, hovering above me. "Jonas, what's wrong?"
I turned my face back to his. "Honestly? It...scares me. All of it."
I saw Mike's expression crumble. It wasn't that he looked hurt, but sorry at something. "I didn't know," he said. "I scare you?"
I sighed, nodding. "A little. I like you so much, but I like being around you, too. You're smart, exciting, and you keep making me laugh. I don't want that to change. The last few weeks, I've actually felt like a real human being again, and losing that scares me."
He smiled at me, and I felt my muscles turn to mush again. "Thank you," he said. "Probably the nicest thing I've heard said about me for a while now. And we'll always be friends, man. You're too much fun to be around for anything different. But I can't work off assumptions here. You have to tell me what you want."
I let myself smile. It sounds too easy, and in some ways I know that it was. Things change in a second, in life. The question one has to ask themselves is: Is the risk worth it?
Oh, hell yes.
"I want you to kiss me again, Mike."
He came down, like doing a push-up, and obliged me. "Wish granted," he said, the smile pulling at his mouth again.
I chuckled. "So you're a genie? Don't I have to rub the lamp to get the wishes?"
Mike had the good grace to turn scarlet at a question like that. "That's...a little personal, isn't it?"
I leaned up, kissing him on my own. I honestly think I could do that all night, but Mike's arms would get tired, and that wouldn't be cool. I tried a different tack, lacing my fingers through the belt loops on his pants, and pulling. "Is it?"
His eyes widened as he lowered his arms again, this time to stay. His lips met mine just as his body did. His warmth spilled over onto my skin, my body coming alive again. "No," he said.
I admit, I was surprised. I mean, wasn't this the whole point? "No? I thought that was what you wanted."
He patted my cheek with a hand. "Someday, Jonas. Just not today."
"But what if I l-"
He placed a finger over my lips, shaking his head. "Don't say it, Jonas. I know you want to, but don't." His smile came back, in an attempt to disarm me, especially after the glaring look I was giving him. I'm not big on people telling me what to do, in general. "This all /just/ happened. I know you may feel that way, but make sure, first. I mean /really/ be sure. Saying anything like that now would be a mistake, and I care about you way too much to let that happen. Trust me on this, okay?"
I nod mutely, and kiss the tip of his finger.
He rolled his eyes, all humor and smiles again. "Though, you're not helping when you do stuff like that," he quipped, taking his finger away from my mouth. He leaned back, onto his knees, off to one side of me.
"I'll call the wahmbulance," I said back at him. Pulling myself up until I was resting on my elbows. "So...there's stuff I need to hear from you, too. Just between us, if you want."
Mike nodded, then quickly reached past me to snatch Mac from where he was lying, forlorn, on the ground, and brandished him in front of me. "Between us," he said. "But what about him?"
I snorted. "Um, Mac can't talk."
"You sure about that?"
"It's the drugs talking, isn't it, Mike?"
"You wish," he retorted. He ran a free hand along the top of Mac's head. Lucky bear. "I saw him earlier, when I came in." He looked down at me, and smiled. "You talk to him, don't you?"
"I wasn't-"
"I didn't mean today," Mike interrupted. "But...you do, don't you?"
I sighed. Ok, my coolness factor in Mike's eyes just dropped a few thousand points. I was doing so well, too. "Yeah," I mumbled. "He listens, you know? To the stuff I can't tell anyone else. Free with the hugs, and doesn't ask for anything else in return."
Taking the bear by the scruff of its neck, gently, I might add, Mike rubbed the stuffed bear's nose against mine. "See? He can talk, and he approves. He's also saying don't be afraid of Mike. Mike likes you a lot." He placed the bear on my chest, letting it sit there.
As I patted Mac on the head, I nodded. "I like Mike a lot too," I whispered. I looked past the bear, to Mike. "Talk?"
Mike nodded. "Get up, please."
Placing Mac in a quiet corner of the tent, by my backpack, I obliged. I scrambled up to my knees, mirroring Mike's position. "All right," I said. "So, you're telling me you're gay too?"
Mike smirked. "What was your first clue?"
"Well, you could have been just humoring me."
He shook his head again. "Nah. I'm for real. I am gay. I've known for a few years now. And I know what it's like, just coming out, and just admitting it to yourself. That's why I'm taking this slow. But the main thing is this: Don't be scared. Ever. Whoever and whatever you are, there are people out there who will always care about you, no matter what."
"Okay," I said, staring at the floor between us. "Did...well, do you want me as a boyfriend?"
With a single finger, Mike lifted my chin back up to face him. "Yeah," he said, his smile brightening. "I've been wanting that. It hurt me, thinking about it, because I thought you were straight. I was going to test the waters, first, and send you a mix tape, from a 'Secret Admirer.'"
The knowledge set in, and I was no longer ignorant. Well, no longer ignorant about some things, in any case. "So that's what you were doing with Wil in the Studio downstairs today."
"Exactly," Mike clarified. "See, a few days ago, I was in class with Wil, and we got to talking. So he took me to the studio to play a song for me he remastered. It was a love song, and I broke down, right there. I think I cried for a good hour before Wil calmed me down. I told him everything. That I was gay, and that I liked someone, and I wasn't sure if they liked me back, or even if they were gay at all, and that they were pushing me away."
I just blinked, feeling my stomach overturn. "Not to sound self-centered, but...I did that to you?"
"Not really you," Mike answered. "You were just being your own cute self, and I was reacting to what I knew and saw."
"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I didn't want to hurt you. I never wanted to make you cry."
Mike leaned back into kiss me for a second. "It's okay. We were both acting from lack of knowledge. Wil was, too. See, I told him about how bad I had it for someone, but I never told him who. So, I wanted a male voice for that song, and he picked you without knowing that the tape was for you."
"Or," I added, "that the singing was for you."
Now, it was Mike's turn to blink. "Say what?"
"When I was singing, Michael, when I was putting myself into that song, it was you I was thinking of. I...thought it was appropriate."
Mike blushed, his cheeks turning bright red. "Woah," he said. "I mean, I was wishing, when I heard you. I wanted it to be for me. But to hear you say it."
I nodded. "Well, it's true. But, sorry to ruin your plan, since you're not as secret of an admirer now."
"I can live with that. Is it what you want?"
"For you to be my boyfriend," I asked. My heart rate tripled again. I was beginning to question, in my own mind, if it was all worth if, if it was this stressful all the time. This could give the unsuspecting a heart attack.
"Yeah," Mike said, waiting for me.
I nodded. "I do," I said. "I don't know...where to go from here, but it's been what I want."
Giving me a grin, Mike chuckled. "Then my work here is done."
This was so confusing. "I thought you came here to ask me what was wrong?"
"I did. But, I was going to tell you how I felt, in any case. I'd rather be honest with you now than have you resenting me later."
I hung my head. "Which was what I was thinking, in the reverse direction. So, this was all a surprise for you, too."
"Well, yeah. I mean, I think it's the best thing that could have happened, but I didn't know what you felt."
"And now you do."
"Yep," Mike said. "Like I said, my work is done."
I felt my stomach clench once more. "You're leaving?"
Mike smiled at me, crawling over to wrap me in a hug. "I don't have to, Jonas." His arms tightened as I snuggled in closer with a moan of contentment. "You want me to stay?"
I bathed in his warmth, again. I was starting to like this part. "Please," I asked. "Not to have sex or anything. But I've been not talking to people all week, and I know I come out here to be alone, but there's a lot I need to talk about, since I've just been stuffing it down all week."
"I don't know," Mike said, kissing me on the forehead this time. "I could either go home and sleep in my nice, warm bed, or I could stay in a secluded tent all night with my boyfriend. Damn, tough choice."
I know he was kidding with me, which did help a lot as I started to laugh again. It was what I found I really liked about him: being around him made me feel lighter, like it was all going to be okay, no matter what happens. "Pick the tent," I whispered to him. "Pick the tent."
All that got me was another squeeze, as I started to know exactly how Mac must feel all the time. If Mac had a nervous system and a brain to process the registering pressures and sensory input. "Okay," Mike said. "Tent it is." He released his hold on me, laying me down on the floor again. As I lay there, he placed his head on my chest, facing me. "You're softer than Jimi is, anyway."
My hand was reaching out towards his face as he spoke. I stopped, fingers inches from his forehead, as I shot him a questioning glance. He looked me, and his face lit up. My hand moved again, stroking his bangs away from his forehead, looking at the dark brown color against my own pale skin. "Who's Jimi," I asked. Did I want to know?
Mike started to blush again. "I have my own stuffed bear at home," he explained. "My parents gave it to me, and called it Jimi."
"Why that name?"
"Jimi as in Hendrix."
Ok, that got me to stop. "Wait, your bear was named after Hendrix? Are you sure you shouldn't be dating Dani instead of me? That sounds..."
"Like something hippies would name their kid's bear," Mike said, smirking.
I sighed. "Sorry. I forgot."
Mike's hand reached over to take my free one in his. "S'okay," he whispered. "You'll have to meet them, anyway. They..know about you already."
"How much do they know," I wondered, out loud. "I mean...well, about me. And you." I started to shift, feeling uncomfortable. I realized that there were a lot of things, and people, that I was going to have to deal with because of all of this. Consequences suck.
"They do, yeah," Mike said, reaching over to pat my thigh. "I'll be the first one to tell you to tell other people, but I want you to be comfortable with this."
"I need time."
I was answered with a kiss on the cheek. "Okay. I'll be there, if you ask."
I nodded, saying nothing. For a short time, neither of us made a sound. Not that we were touching, or were upset. There is just a point in some conversations where nothing can be said. This wasn't a bad thing; the last hour or so has done a lot to both of us, so a little mental downtime couldn't hurt.
I sat there, trying not to brood. I had done enough of that in the past week, and for what? I could have /lost/ him. This wonderful boy, this boy who liked me the same way I did him. I could have succeeded in pushing him away. The peace could have been denied, the happiness nonexistent, if I had stopped him from coming inside.
A shudder ripped through me, my insides crystallizing at the thought that we both could have been so alone. I had this image in my head of Michael, somewhere outside, by himself, staring at the sky with a forlorn look. What was I thinking, to think that was better for him, before?
And I'm still scared. What am I going to tell Shane? What am I going to say to mom?
"Jonas?"
The question rattled me out of my private thoughts. Glancing over to Mike, I found him staring at me again. He was sitting cross-legged, about five feet away. His elbows were pressed against his lower legs, leaning forward with his chin cupped in his hands. He had a strong smile; not the usual joking grin.
The thing was, I used to hate having people stare at me. In my old school, it meant I was being sized up for a future ass-kicking, or that one of the other students was studying me for some unknown reason. But wow...hell, he could look at me like that all day. No one should be that damn cute. "Yes, dear handsome peasant?"
"Penny for your thoughts? You're looking pretty spaced."
"Physician, heal thyself," I quipped. I stifled an internal sigh. I wanted to enjoy this night, and not waste it going over my issues.
Great, I have issues.
Sometimes, I hate Weathering. That place is fucking contagious.
"Well," I said, waggling my eyebrows at him. "So, Bannon," I said, addressing him by his last name. "Does this make me Dr. Quest?"
Mike's wits basically function like the crack of a whip. I've rarely seen him not have a joke or remark at hand, before tonight's talk. I've never seen him caught off guard. Until now.
Widening his eyes, Mike lifted his chin out of his hands, straightening. That old smile yanked at the corner of his mouth. "Ho ho. Think you're funny, huh?" Now, he was eyeing me. I've seen that predatory look before, and I get that sudden, familiar sense of dread.
I felt my shell harden, another familiar tactic. "I thought it was," I said.
"But I can make you laugh before you make me."
I tilted my head up. "Bring it on."
Mike relaxed, seeming to crumple in on himself. With a sigh, he said "Very well." This caused me to let down my guard. So, I was stuck thinking of my next joke when Mike sprung into action.
I went down like a lead kite, tackled as Mike landed on top of me. His hands slid under my shirt, wiggling fingers finding my midsection.
So, he won that bet, easily. Darkness had just descended, and the flashlight was knocked out of the way as we tussled. Not that I advertised my ticklish spots before, so I just figured Mike knew where to look, and to touch. Needless to say, it worked. The next bit of time went by in a blur of hysterical giggles, tumbling bodies, and discarded shirts.
For that short while, I forgot about the rest of it: what others would think, how I would deal with this. As night fell, and Mike and I were lost in a sea of breath-catching, touching, butterfly kisses and caresses, the rest of the world didn't matter.
We ended up shirtless for what seemed like hours later. We turned off the flashlight, and curled under my blanket in the darkness. I was being held by him, his hand stroking my hair, as I nuzzled against his chest. The quiet after the horseplay was jarring, as well as the sensation of our bare skin touching. I was a miracle that I hadn't orgasmed already, from the kissing and contact, but I felt my manhood straining against my pants. This in turn made me restless, despite the fact that my position against Mike should make me feel utterly relaxed.
As I was squirming around to try and get comfortable, Mike stopped petting me. There was just enough moonlight coming through the top screen on the tent that I could place his general shape in the darkness.
"Jonas, you okay?"
"Yeah," I answered. "Just restless."
"So you're horny," Mike drawled, and I could hear the smile in his voice. I heard more than saw him pat the ground by his side. "Come back down."
I obliged, because it was a lot warmer next to him then it was half-seated. "I thought you didn't want action tonight," I said. "You don't have to worry about the weak-willed and easily aroused."
I'd have said more, again, but a quick kiss put and an end to it. "And I meant it," he whispered. "Trust me, I care about you. But I want you to relax a bit, peasant. You've had a rough day."
With a hand, I traced the muscles on his chest. Make sure he's there, make sure he's real. "Not rough, but I feel like today started a week ago."
His arm slipped under my armpit, holding me. "It's okay," he said. "You need to rest, okay?"
"Okay."
"Close your eyes, Jonas. Focus on my voice. Relax. Listen to me, and take a deep breath...s'right. Now let it out. Keep doing that, Jonas. Breathe in, breathe out, let yourself go." As he was speaking, I felt my body grow sluggish. I didn't want to make the effort to move or think. "That's it. Rest, Jonas. Relax, and get some sleep."
The last thing I remembered, before dropping off was a pair of lips pressed against my forehead. "Sleep well."
Sometimes, I have trouble sleeping. I'll be the first to admit that. I have a tendency to toss and turn, especially when I have something weighing on my mind, in spite of my waterbed inside being soothing. Those sleepless nights end up with me being seasick.
But, since I could feel the nylon-canvas weave of the tent floor under me still, it reminded me of where I was as I crawled out of sleep. If I dreamed, I didn't remember. But, I remembered everything else as I reached a hand out to touch...nothing.
Nothing?
Well, that snapped my eyes wide open. I was shirtless, still, nestled and tucked in under the blanket. No way. No fucking way I imagined last night. No...
I pushed myself up, realizing that it was closet to dawn than I ever thought I'd want to see. Just past it, actually. Filtered light filled the tent, allowing me to see. Much of the inside of the tent was the way I remembered it last night, everything where Mike and I had left it. But of Mike himself, I found no sign until I caught a slash of blue out of the corner of my eye.
I let the shirt lie there limply in my hands before bringing it closer to my face. Oh yeah, that was definitely his scent. Maybe there's a bloodhound in my family tree, I don't know. I didn't care, either. This was all the proof I needed.
Risking a peek outside, I did find Mike's bike still there, carelessly lying on its side in the yard. A little bit in the distance loomed my house, and I felt safer in here, for some reason.
Throwing Mike's shirt on, since I didn't feel like looking for my own shirt at the moment, I stepped outside. Shielding my eyes from the sudden increased light with a hand, I let the coolness from the ground seep into my bare feet, the grass bunching between my toes as I started looking around.
I found Mike in short order, behind my tent, seated on the ground, his arms curled around his knees as he smoked a cigarette, tapping the ashes into an empty soda can from last night. I wasn't being anywhere near quiet, so when I sat down beside him, he didn't react with surprise.
"Hey," he said with a small smile. "Nice shirt."
"Thanks," I replied dryly. "I had a feeling your clothes would look as good on me as you do." I reached for the pack of smokes between us, taking one and lighting it for myself.
Apparently, he can also be caught off guard in the mornings, too, as his face flushed a deep scarlet. As I lit up, he recovered himself. "Great," hr murmured. "One kiss, and Jonas becomes a wild man."
I puffed out a small cloud, letting the smoke make me a little dizzy. "One kiss," I retorted, "and Mike ends up shirtless in my tent."
"Are you always this sarcastic when you wake up?"
"Do you always cry in your sleep?"
I felt more than saw him wince, as I instantly regretted asking him that. I held up a hand. "Okay, sorry. I stepped over the line, there."
Mike shook his head, blowing smoke out of his nostrils. "Nah. It's all right. I didn't realize that I was still doing that." I didn't answer that, and he took another drag before speaking up. "There's something I should have told you last night."
I went and squeezed his shoulder, and felt him relax a bit. "Mike...what's up?"
"Nothing's wrong," he replied, grabbing my wrist and squeezing back. "This is the best morning of my life. I just...well, Jonas, you're not the first guy I've gone out with.
Based on some of the things he said last night, I had had that already figured out. But, I still felt my insides twist, as I felt a small seed of self-doubt blossom in the pit of my stomach. I sighed, audibly. Dammit, I was jealous. And it was pissing me off because the feeling was so unreasonable. Mike existed before I met him, and hell, Jonas, if you fell for him so fast, why are you pissed because someone else did?
"I'm sorry, Jonas."
"No, Mike. Don't be sorry. I...figured you were with someone before me. Is that why you were so careful with me last night?"
Mike nodded, looking solemn.
"And I take it you don't want to go into details now?"
With an apologetic look, he shook his head at me.
"Well...I'll just deal with it," I said, getting closer to him. "See, people's pasts make them who they are now. And it's the 'now' Mike I've gone wild over." I paused, and pulled him into a deep kiss. It was comfortable at first, but after a time, he tried to pull away. I held on with relish. Make the lad sweat, some.
Finally, Mike pushed me away, pale and sweating. He just stared at me with a little wonder. "Shit," he said. "Don't you ever come up for air?"
I smirked. "And here I thought I took your breath away." Triumphant, I pointed to Mike's erection, not really hidden by hid corduroys. "And put the breath somewhere else, to inflate it."
He smirked right back. "Well, my breath is gone," he said, sniffing. "Mostly because you stink."
"It's your shirt."
"It is."
"Know what this means, Mike?"
"What?"
"You need a shower."
"Together?"
"Not in my house," I answered, getting nervous. "I mean, Mom's home, and-"
Mike waved a hand. "No worries. But yeah, we're both pretty rank. Is it okay if I grab a shower inside?"
"No problem. Just help me take this down first."
"Of course."
Striking the camp didn't take all that much time, and after everything was set down in the living room, I led Mike upstairs, each in our original clothes. In my own house, I at least would have something to change into. But Mike, larger than me, was shit out of luck. We decided we'd head to his house after we were clean, so he'd find clean clothes as well.
We were stopped in front of the door to the upstairs bathroom, Mike about to go inside. I was, ever the faithful host, giving out instructions.
"Okay, hair dryer's under the sink, and my room is down the hall there," I said, pointing. "Just go there and chill, if you're out before me, okay?"
Mike raised an eyebrow, trying not to smile. "You always this bossy, peasant?"
"In my own house, yes." I said, as Mike chuckled. "Deal."
"All right," Mike said, mock-sighing in resignation. "I don't know what I'll do with you, Jonas."
I leaned closer. "I'll draw you a map. With details."
"Kinky," he replied, giving me a strong kiss before heading into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. In a few seconds, the rasp of water from the shower-head was heard.
I shook my head, still grinning as I turned away. "Unreal," I said, out loud.
"No, Jonas, that looked pretty real to me."
I turned around slowly, as I got that feeling inside like my skeleton was going to jump out through my mouth and make a break for it.
Down the hall was the door to another room; one which I didn't consider would be occupied. However, the doorway was occupied by six-feet-one of ex-High School-football lineman. His arms were crossed, and the expression in his also-hazel eyes was a mix of 'Gotcha'-type amusement and concern. Concern, from someone whose IQ was significantly lower than what he could bench press. This didn't bode well for me. For the second time in two days, I knew my death was imminent.
"Is there any chance," I asked. "Any chance at all that you might just let this slide, and not demand an immediate explanation?"
He shook his head, showing off the buzz-cut he had, also blond. "Not a chance in hell, Jo,' he said, and with an open hand indicated his room. "Step into my office," he added, in that 'I'm nineteen, so I'm in charge' voice he gets.
I sighed, and started to walk of the condemned. Mentally, I kicked myself. With everything that happened yesterday, I had forgotten that the day was Friday.
And I had forgotten to think of the possibility that Shane, my older brother, would come home from college for the weekend.
-End Chapter 3.-