What followed was something so indescribably intense, that it exceeds all matter of description...
So, I won't bother trying to describe it.
Maybe a small sidenote lecture, though. Granted, Chris and I did have sex that night, but it did not change our relationship in the least. To all those who state that sex changes everything, let me say that it only changes things, if the relationship you're in lacks love. Sex, in whatever form you choose, is simply an extension of love, and should not exist as a simple entity in a relationship. It exists in most relationships, though, and if two fairly young, emotional human beings exist together in a relationship, be they same or opposite sex, it's almost a given that sex will occur. Sometimes it will occur regularly, sometimes it will occur irregularly. People shouldn't plan sexual encounters, though, but if two genuine lovers are together for a month and haven't had sex at least once, there may be a problem. That's not to say that relationships don't exist, where the two people simply don't have sex, but those types of relationships shouldn't occur until one is older. Speaking from a male point of view, it's important to remember that males are constantly producing sperm and, unless you enjoy the idea of waking up with sticky underpants, it's important to release the sperm, and tension, regularly. Personally, I'd rather do it while engaging in some affectionate encounter with the person that I love, then to do it while having some dream about a celebrity you have a crush on.
But I'm going off on a tangent and losing track of the story...
Needless to say, all thoughts of this being a simple sleepover were quickly dispelled from my mind. Chris lay asleep in my arms after our intimacy, with my hands clutching his own and his warm, slightly moist body pressed tightly against me. Except for a slight head adjustment, so my face wasn't buried in his hair, I couldn't have been more content if I'd tried. I was tired, but I still wasn't ready to allow sleep to possess me. Making love to Chris had been wonderful and intense and the tears were still drying in streaks on my face, and my mistrusting nature demanded that I enjoy this experience for as long as I could. It seemed like a good philosophy, however, to enjoy every moment of closeness with your loved one, as if it were your last, because one never knew when it could all come crashing down. One of the biggest regrets people have, when their most precious of people, their significant other, dies in some horrible accident, is that they never had a chance to tell them that they loved them, before they died. That could be a possible explanation for my sometimes near-obsessive affection for those for whom I care so much about. It was for the sake of being unsure about myself that I valued my holding of Chris, I suppose. Soon, however, though, the feeling of security given by Chris's prone form, combined with the sweet smell of Chris's hair and body lulled me to sleep.
I'm not the most still sleeper, though, and, the following morning, I found myself in a far corner of the bed, with Chris lying where I had been. The blankets and our legs were a tangled mess, and I felt still very tired, but sort of had to pee, so I groggily stood up and stumbled over the bathroom, smashing my shin on the desk table and waking my senses nearly fully up for a brief few minutes, while I hopped around cursing as quietly as possible, to avoid waking the boy in my bed. My cat, wisely viewing that I was not to be disturbed, kept out of my way as I did my business. On the way back from the toilet, while washing my hands, I looked at myself in the mirror. Now, when people say that you never look like you want to, first thing in the morning, they are 100% true. Despite my fun last night, I saw in the mirror a face that almost made me laugh. I vowed to never do that again, and, while pondering what it was in my below average appearance that Chris found to be attractive, I made my way back to the bed room and slept back under the covers for a little while longer, not even bothering to check the clock. I didn't care what time it was, I just wanted to go back to sleep and hold my Chris again, so I gently wrapped my arms around him and hugged him again, as I drifted back to sleep.
It didn't work too well, though, as we were both woken up a couple of hours later, by the phone. Pulling my hand out from my boxers, where it had somehow found it's way during my sleep, I gently moved Chris's leg out of the way and crawled over to pick up the phone.
"Yeah?" I groaned.
"Hey, Dave. How are you, this morning?" came the familiar voice on the other end of the line.
This being Saturday, the Jehovah's Witnesses made their rounds and one guy in particular had been hounding me for the last few months, and I'd always been too nice to tell him to just sod off, so he called every Saturday to make sure I was in and didn't have plans, and then he came by.
"Hey, Paul." I said, "I'm okay."
"Great. Can I come by in a few?" He asked.
I was about to tell him that I had plans with my mother, or was going out, or has to have my balls cut off today, or something, but I had a sneaky idea and said, "Sure. Come on by whenever you'd like."
"Great." He said, "We'll be by in about fifteen minutes."
"See you then." I replied, as cheerfully as possible, before hanging up.
I crawled out of bed and tried to locate my pants, while Chris composed himself and got out of bed.
He yawned and asked, "Who was that?"
"Just some people. We're going to have guests in a few minutes, so you might want to get dressed." was my reply.
"Oh shit." He said, and quickly ran over to his bag and sifted through it, trying to find some clothes.
"Don't worry." I comforted, "It shouldn't last too long, and besides, I have an idea. You need to play along, though."
He shrugged, "What is it?"
I told him what my plan was, and he smiled and said, "You're so cute, baby."
I reached out and took his hand, then leaned forward and kissed him quickly.
"Good morning, Chrissie."
He nodded and replied, "Good morning, baby." while getting dressed.