It's later on that night, and Ryan and I are sitting at my kitchen table, stuffing our faces with my mom's specialty, oh-so-scrumptious chocolate chip cookies. Honestly, I'm a little surprised that Ryan's stomach can even hold all the cookies he's inhaling - then again, like I should really be talking.

After the big, dramatic episode with Pastor George happening well over ten hours ago, Ryan is for the most part, calmed down. He doesn't exactly have the whole oh-the-world-is-a-wonderful place attitude like he once had before any of this crap went down (you know, back when all he was to me was the Pastor's nerdy son) but he's definitely not bawling his eyes out anymore either.

Ryan dunks his half-eaten cookie into his glass of milk, and lets out a long, distressed sigh. "I really, really don't want to go to school tomorrow."

"Yeah..." I agree, running my fingertip along the cool glass.

He pops the last bit of his cookie into his mouth, and looks at me, eyes still a little red from all the crying he did earlier. "Do you think my dad's ever going to talk to me again?" he asks quietly.

I take a moment before answering, taking a bite of my cookie in thought. "Honestly, yeah," I say eventually, because I actually, really do. "He can't ignore you forever."

He shrugs, and stares off out my window, out into the darkness.

I reach across the table and take his hand in mine, smoothing my thumb over the back of his index finger.

So, turns out, Ryan will be living with me (and my bed!) indefinitely, or at least that's what my mom told us when her and my dad got home from church earlier. I'm definitely not complaining, because really, Ryan's gonna be living with me, sleeping in my bed, with me, every fricken night. I don't think I have a reason to complain for the rest of my life. However, I know in a way, Ryan is a little upset about the whole thing. I mean, I don't blame him though, because if I got kicked out for being who I am, I'd be a little on the down side too, to say the least.

And, oh, did I mention he's going to be sleeping with me?

My parents are also going over to Ryan's house after school tomorrow to pick up some stuff his dad packed for him, and that will pretty much be that for a few days. I can't even imagine what that would feel like, having your dad - your own flesh and blood - not even want to see you because who you like love. However, the good thing is, my mom told me that we wont be attending church until we find one that is a whole lot more open-minded. And it's like, thank God, no more homophobic, gay bashing sermons! Maybe, for once I might actually somewhat enjoy church. Maybe.

Anyways, back to the original topic: school. So, I guess I am a little freaked out about it tomorrow. I mean, it doesn't take a genius to know we'll be getting a whole lot more attention than usual (or I will at least, I think Ryan's used to the whole attention thing, maybe just not this kind). I mean, okay, there's no way today's events wont be spread around the entire school by ten o'clock (at the very latest). Like, okay, I know that my entire school obviously already knows I'm gay, but I hate, hate, hate, hate, hate attention, and honestly, I'm not too sure how Ryan's going to handle the whole thing. I mean, teenagers can be harsh.

I snap out of my thoughts when Ryan slides towards me, his chair squeaking against the linoleum floor. He gives me a small smile, and leans forward to press a quick kiss to my the corner of my lips. "Thanks," he says softly. I go to open my mouth, and tell him, once again, that I didn't do anything, but he cuts me off with another kiss. "I know you didn't do much today, but still, thanks... for everything." He squeezes just above my knee and smiles.

I smile back, and lean forward to kiss him again, taking his bottom lip in between mine. I move my hand to his side, pushing the material of his shirt up a few inches, and run my thumb over his hip. "You know," I start, in between kisses, "even though this whole thing with your dad sucks like, majorly, I'm kind of happy you're living with me for awhile."

He smiles, and kisses me again. "Me too," he murmurs.

When my mom walks in (because we all knew she would), our tongues are shoved in each others mouths, my hands are all the way up Ryan's shirt and I'm practically sitting on top of him. She clears his throat loudly, and turns all the way around, her back facing us. Ryan practically shoves me away, his face burning.

She ends up just giving us a big dramatic sigh, tells us to break it apart and go to bed. Which really doesn't make all that much sense, because we're sleeping in the same bed, and wouldn't parents rather kids make out in the room next to them than in a bed, with the door closed, alone - if at all?

Then again, it is my mom, and if you haven't already noticed, she really isn't all that normal.

- - - -

I wake up in the middle of the night to something warm spraying across my neck, and something hard poking at my thigh.

I'm barely awake, and I haven't even got my eyes open before a pair of moist lips are attacking mine. It takes about forty more seconds before I finally wake up enough to realize that telling by the darkness of the room, and the fact that Ryan's the only I've been sharing my bed with lately, Ryan's totally has a case of RMNAA - short for Random Middle of the Night Arousal Attack (okay, yeah, I actually just made that up on the spot, but shut up, like my brain's really functioning enough right now to think of proper terms for this kind of thing).

I, for one, am not complaining. In fact, I almost wish I could be woken up everyday (or night, whatever) like this.

So, the second I wake up enough, I start kissing him back, just as desperate, already grabbing at his bare hips and pulling him onto me (and he was so totally not shirtless when we went to bed). He doesn't resist, no, instead he pretty much jumps on top of me, and doesn't waste a second before he's grinding his hips down against mine.

I gasp into his mouth, and he just paws at my shirt, sliding his hands up my skin. "Unf, Brendon," he whines into my lips. "I'm so... fuck."

Oh yeah, me too, Ryan. Me too.

He tugs at my shirt, pulling me up off my mattress a little so he has enough room to pull off my shirt and toss it somewhere across my room. He attaches his lips to just under my shoulder as I fall back down against my bed with a thump, with him falling down on top of me, grinding his hips back down against mine. Hard.

And it's like, holyshitmotherfuckerofgreatness because we're both just wearing our flimsy boxers, and I can feel his very, very hard dick rub perfectly against mine.

He kisses back up my neck, teeth and tongue and all, and fuck, I can barely get this through my head that yeah, this is actually happening.

"I want - " he starts, but then cuts himself off as he attaches his lips back onto mine, tongue sliding against mine, "So bad. Brendon, please. I think - no, I'm ready."

"You're just ridiculously horny, Ryan," I murmur back, running my hands down his smooth back, and hook my fingers into the elastic of his boxers.

He nods in agreement. "Probably."

He licks at my lips, then practically sucks my tongue into his mouth, his hips still rocking hard against mine. And okay, so maybe this isn't sex-sex, but this is totally like, dry-sex here and it's still like, holy shit, woah. I mean, I think it's good enough for my still half-asleep self. Okay, more like, way, way, way beyond good.

And boy, does this ever beat sleeping alone.

Ryan's moaning (and really just making random noises) so loud, that there is no way my parents cant hear us, but really, it's not like I have any brains left to at least get him to quiet down a little. Plus, it's so fucking sexy, that's it's somehow getting me even more hard.

I grab onto his hips, pulling him so forcefully back down against me, that it would probably hurt if it didn't feel so freaking fantastic.

"Oh God," he cries out, and oh okay, scratch that, not only can my parents here, but so can Ryan's dad.

Ryan presses his nose just under my Adam's apple, his hot breath moistening my burning hot skin. He grips hard onto my forearms as he continues to rock against me, his thrusts becoming more rushed and vigorous with each one. And holy shit, I'm already getting close.

A few more thrusts and Ryan's already coming, with a mouthful of curses that I never thought I'd here come from his mouth, and nails digging deep into my arm. He continues to thrust his hips into mine as he rides out on his orgasm, and just, seriously, holy hot damn.

Yet, it's still not quite enough for me.

So, just as I'm about to slide my hand down my boxers and finish off myself, Ryan's hand is apparently already on top of that. And unlike before, he just goes right down and grips onto me without much hesitance.

I gasp, and throw my head back against the pillow, giving Ryan perfect access to my neck. He takes the invitation greedily, attaching his lips and teeth to my skin, as he begins to pump his hand up and down my length. And I'm still kind of like, is this a dream?

It doesn't take too long before I'm letting go, all over Ryan's hand, leaving him to only look a little freaked out - but only for a second. He falls down on top of me, wiping his hand on my blanket and we take a few minutes to let our hearts calm down and get our breathing back on track.

"Fuck," I pant, running my hand down along Ryan's side.

"Yeah," Ryan breathes in agreement.

He rolls off of me, but wraps his arm around my waist, curling into my side. I can feel his heart beating against my side as he presses a soft kiss to my jaw. "Goodnight, Bren," he whispers.

"Goodnight, Ry," I reply, and within minutes, I'm asleep.

- - -

The next time I wake up, it's to my alarm. Ryan stirs next to me, and moans in agony. I can't even open my eyes I'm so tired, and I actually want to start crying, because this is just not fair.

Then again, whose fault is it anyway? I was the one who engaged in a middle of the night sex act. At least, I hope. I hope that wasn't just a dream.

I move so I can reach up and slam down the snooze button on my alarm, hitting some body part on Ryan in the process. He lets out another whine. And judging by the feeling of crustiness in my boxers, it most certainly wasn't a dream.

I drop my head into Ryan's shoulder, and let out a groan of my own. "Ryan, I don't want to goooo."

He lets out a grunt in response.

I'm almost back asleep when there's a loud banging on my door, and my moms voice yelling, "If you're naked - which you better not be! - get dressed, because I'm coming in!" She doesn't even give us a second (I mean, really, what if we were naked?) before she's opening the door and flicking on the light. "Get up, lazybones!" she yells in an unnecessarily high voice.

We groan in unison, and pull the blankets over our heads, blocking out the blinding lights. "Mom!" I cry. "That was not necessary!"

"It's not my fault you guys stayed up all night," she says, but there's no hint that she knows exactly why we stayed up.

I blush anyways, and I'm sure Ryan is too.

"Mom!" I whine again.

"Just get up," she says, and leaves the room.

Ryan waits a few seconds before quietly asking, "Do you think she heard?"

"I don't know," I reply, because really, I don't. You never do with my mom.

"Oh God, I hope not," he says, and I can just hear the embarrassment drip from his voice.

"No kidding," I agree, face burning at the thought. "My dad wouldn't be able to look me in the eye for the rest of my life if he heard."

Ryan lets out a sleepy laugh, and looks at me, his cheeks still a soft, almost glowing shade of pink. "I hope that I wasn't, you know," he starts, then takes a deep breath, cheeks getting brighter with every word, "I hope it was okay..."

"What was?" I ask, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"You know," He blushes harder, "what I did last night..."

"What? Oh, that?" I say, stomach fluttering at the thought. "Right. Oh yeah, that was... well, that was great. Yeah, it definitely... was good."

"Oh, well, good," he stumbles out awkwardly.

"You were worried you'd be bad?" I ask, and he shrugs. I smile, and poke his shoulder playfully. "Aw, Ryan! You shouldn't have been! I mean, I don't even think its possible to be bad at that, all you have to do is do what you do to yourself."

He inhales a deep intake of breath, and blushes more. "Yeah, see, that's the thing... I, well, I've only done, you know that, like once or twice... that's why I was so freaked be - "

"YOU'RE TELLING ME YOU ONLY JACKED OFF ONCE OR TWICE IN YOUR WHOLE LIFE?" I practically scream, and yup, my mom heard that one too.

"Brendon," he hisses, and slaps my shoulder. "Shut up! Like your parents haven't already heard enough already!"

"Okay, sorry," I apologize, lowering my voice a few thousand notches. "But, I mean, really? Seriously?"

"Yeah... just, well, I don't know," he says, slowly. "Just, every time I went to, I didn't know what to think about. Like, I'd start thinking off about Dayna or some other girl, but of course that didn't really work, because my mind would wander off to, you know, guys and that just freaked me out, cause, well yeah. I couldn't be thinking about guys that way... so I'd just stop and go for a cold shower instead. I mean, I did once, I just... I tried not to think of anything, even though I did end up thinking of a guy when I came." He blushes, and continues, "But, I mean, that was it - until well, you. So..."

"Wow."

I mean, really? Once or twice his whole life? That's like, a day for me.

"Yeah..."

"Well, you did good." I smile, and press a small kiss on his cheek.

He laughs nervously, and mumbles out an awkward, "Thanks..."

There's another loud bang on my door, and my mom yelling to 'get up right at this very moment before I'm forced to come in there and kick both your asses' and then of course, she just finds the need to add in, 'which better not be naked!' just to make us that much more embarrassed.

Ryan looks at me, and shakes his head, an amused smirk on his lips. "Your mom," is all he has to say.

I nod, because I so totally agree.

- - -

We end up sitting in Ryan's car in the school parking lot for a total of five minutes before Ryan (okay, and maybe a little of me too) gets up enough courage to face the world (okay, maybe just Palo Verde High, population: 1,423, but still).

When we finally get out of his car, and start our walk through the parking lot, the school looming ahead of us, Ryan does something I did not expect by grabbing onto my hand, and intertwining our fingers together. Then again, he did the same when we were at the church, so I don't really see why I'm so surprised.

I stare down at them, to make sure I wasn't just imagining it, then look up at Ryan, raising an eyebrow. "Are you sure?"

He nods, and stops in his tracks, leaving us standing in the middle of our school parking lot with driving maniacs racing by us. "Yeah. Why? You aren't?"

"No, no, I am... I just - "

"Brendon!" He sighs, throwing his free hand up in the air in frustration. "When did we switch roles?!"

"No, I just, no!" I say, defensively. "I just... I was just making sure you were okay with it." And, I'm only half lying, really.

"Well, people know anyways so I don't really see why it matters," he replies.

"Okay."

"Okay." He gives me one last look before we start walking again, towards the school doors.

My heart thumps in my chest, and really, how did I not realize I was so pathetic before? I mean, I always thought I didn't care what anyone thought about me being gay and all, and I don't exactly, just... this isn't just people knowing now. This is people seeing. This is different... this is...

God, I'm so pathetic.

"Brendon," Ryan hisses into my ear as we start up the stairs, "I'm pretty sure you're more nervous than I am."

I ignore him as we pull open the large, metal doors to the school and Ryan practically drags me in after him. This is so stupid, since when is Ryan the big, smooth confident one? Actually, it's probably good that he is, because if we were both acting like me right now, it probably wouldn't be too good. Then again, we probably wouldn't even be doing this in the first place.

We've barely made it two steps before two girls standing by the door, look over at us and immediately burst out in chatter.

I think I'm going to puke.

Another few steps, and it feels like everyone in the whole entire school is staring at us. I stare at the ground.

Not even a minute down the hall, Ryan lets go of my hand along with an incredulous laugh as he backs us into a quiet corner of the hall. "You're unbelievable," he hisses again, low enough so no one around can hear.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I say quickly and grab back onto his hand. "I just," I say quietly, and look around at the about, 3472843 teenagers standing around and staring at us, whispering and fucking pointing, "I hate attention." I bite my lip, and look up at him with apologetic eyes, "I'm sorry."

He shrugs. "It's okay. I just expected you to be, I don't know... I expected you to be the brave one," he says quietly. "Not me, it's just... it's freaky."

"I know, I know. I'm sorry." I squeeze his hand, and start to pull us away, back down the hall. "I'll be better now, I promise."

We get to Ryan's locker first, and he lets go of my hand to open his lock. "It's going to be like this all day, isn't it?" he asks, even though I'm sure he already knows the answer.

"Yeah, and probably for the next week too," I reply, leaning against the locker beside him, backpack slung over my shoulder. I can still feel people staring, and hear people whispering. God, my face is probably so red right now. How did Jon and Spencer do this? Oh right, they're the wonder-fucking-couple.

"Right," he nods, pulls his binder from his locker, and as if he read my mind he says, "Well, Jon and Spencer did it, right?" He slams his locker shut, and sighs. He grabs onto my sides, and smiles up at me. The halls buzzes with talk. "We can do it."

"Yeah..." I nod, and gulp.

Ryan presses a quick kiss to my lips, and the chatter is so loud, I can barely hear myself think.

"Faggots!" a voice yells, somewhere in the crowd of people.

I look over at Ryan, expecting him to be all upset and hurt, but instead, he smirks up at me and shrugs. "And so it begins."