CHAPTER 10! YAY! Hope you enjoy it!

Ch 10: Ice Cream and Wet Dreams

A week later we're all sprawled out on the living room furniture of the loft sharing pints of ice cream. "It's good for stress!" Maureen has assured us, although I think she just wants an excuse to eat ice cream. I eat another scoop of my mint chocolate chip and let it melt slowly on my tounge. Roger and Angel sit to my right on the couch fervently digging into rocky road, Mimi and Maureen to my left chowing on cookies and cream, and Joanne and Collins are on the floor slowly and deliberatly eating strawberry shortcake.

"Mark," Collins puts down his spoon on a napkin and looks up at me. "You need to think seriously for a minute about what you're gonna do. I mean it's all bad ass and stuff that you walked out on your parents, but legally you can't stay here until you're eighteen."

"I'll be eighteen in Januray!" I pipe up.

"I know, but until then your parents still have every right to come and take you back." Collins has been eighteen since March, so this doesn't apply to him anymore.

"Well..." I try and think of another excuse. "Well, what about Roger? He isn't eighteen and won't be until the end of this month! He's been living with you for over five months now!"

"Yeah, that's cause my parents don't give a shit about where I am," Roger snaps. "Incase you haven't noticed, they haven't bothered to find me for almost three years!" He falls silent and stares at the ground. Everyone exchanges awkward glances.

I feel awful. "Rog...I-I didn't mean it like that."

"Yeah, I know what you meant," his voice is softer but it still stings. He continues to stare at the ground.

"Mark," Collins interjects, trying to change the subject. "I just think you should try and talk to them is all, I didn't mean to start anything."

"Fine," I grumble. What choice do I have? If I don't call Collins will call for me. "I'll call in about an hour, my dad'll still be at work then."

I pick up the phone and dial the farmiliar number. It rings once...twice...Please don't be home, dad...three times...Please don't be home...

"Hello?" It's just Cindy.

"Cindy!"

"Mark?" she asks. "Mark! You're okay?"

"Yes Cindy, I'm fine! I'm at Collins' apartment."

"They got it back?"

"Yeah it's a long story. Cindy? Okay what happened after I left? Did dad, you know...blow up?"

There's a slight hesitation. "Yeah...but not as bad as it's been before. He knocked over a vase and a lamp and smashed some china. He didn't hit mom or anything this time though..."

I let out a sigh of relief. "Is he home right now?"

"No he's at work."

"Good, okay Cindy, can I talk to mom?"

"Sure, I'll bring the phone to her." There's another pause and I hear some shuffling and knocking. "Mark, here she is," Cindy says.

"Hey Cindy? One more thing."

"What?"

"Thanks," I mutter sheepishly, and I feel myself blush. "I love you Candy." I tell her, just like I used to when we were little.

"I love you too Marko." I can hear the smile in her voice. There's some more shuffling.

"Mark?" my mother's voice hurts my ears.

"Hi mom."

"Oh, Mark! Darling! I've been so worried! Where are you, what's going on? Are you inside somewhere? Are you eating? Do you have somewhere to sleep?"

"MOM! I'm fine! I'm at Collins and Roger's apartment. We talked Benny into letting us back in."

"Oh, Mark! Can you please come home?"

"Mom," I scold slowly. "It's too soon to do that just yet. You know dad might..."

"Yes Mark I know but I...I just worry about you."

"I know mom."

"Mark, at least...let me visit you. I know where the apartment is, I'll bring Cindy and we'll come every so often while your dad's at work."

"Okay..." I agree uncertainly. "Mom, just be careful please."

"I will, you be careful too baby."

"Okay, I'll talk to you soon. Bye."

"Bye, Mark, I love you." The other end of the line clicks off.

I hang up the phone and head back into the living room. The intricate guitar melodies floating down the hall cause me to stop dead in my tracks. I've heard Roger play some pretty beautiful stuff before, but this...is captivating. I find myself drifting down the hallway, as though in a trance. I stop in front of Roger's room and stand there just listening to him play. Finally I can't take it anymore. I push into the room.

He stops playing abruptly. "Mark, what the hell?"

"What's that song?"

"What? The one I was just playing?"

"Yeah, what's it called?"

"Well, it doesn't have a name yet..."

My eyes widen in shock and I take a step back. "You mean, you wrote it?"

"Yeah," he blushes and looks down at his matress. "You-you like it?"

"Roger," I walk across the room and sit next to him. "It's amazing." I place my hand on his knee.

He looks up at me. His jade green meets my ocean blue with a fiery intensity. "Really, you think so?"

"Yeah," I find myself falling deeper and deeper into those eyes. "Will you play more for me?"

"Sure." Roger readies the guitar in his lap. He plucks the first note and the beautiful melody fills my ears again. I lay back on the bed and close my eyes, allowing myself to be mesmorized by the music. He plays through the melody a few times before stopping.

"Roger!" My eyes snap open and I sit up. "Don't stop!"

"Mark, my hand gets tired after a while." He locks his eyes on mine again. I suddenly have to fight the urge to lean forward. Roger seems to hear my thoughts because he's leaning instead of me. Oh fuck this and I'm leaning in too. Our lips are about five inches apart when we hear the apartment door open. Roger shoots back and grabs his guitar. Instinctivly he strums a few chords. Next thing we know Collins is filling the doorway.

"Wassup muthafuckahs?"

"Nothing!" Roger and I exclaim at the same time. Roger gives me a look.

"I was just playing some stuff for Mark," he elaborates.

"Yummy," Collins says. "Oh, speaking of yummy we need groceries. Roger, we're going shopping."

"Do I have to?" Roger pouts like a five year old.

"Yes, baby boy, you do. Get your lazy ass up and let's go." Collins gestures out into the hallway. "Mark, you wanna come?"

"I'll pass," I mutter.

"Suit yourself." Collins follows Roger out into the hallway.

"How come he got decide if he was coming or not?" Roger whines.

"He's the guest. Now stop complaining." The apartment door opens and then slams behind them.

The candle light flickers in the blackened bedroom. I'm lying on the bed, naked as far as I can tell. Suddenly there's weight on the end of the bed. There's someone else there. The person slowly moves until they're situated next to me. Without hesitation they reach out and grab my exposed cock, starting a slow gentle rythm. I sigh and relax back into the pillow. This person begins to quicken the rythm, making it faster and more urgent. Suddenly a mouth closes around the head. A tounge licks teasingly, in tune with the rythm. I can feel the orgasm building inside of me and I have to resist the urge to cry out. The rythm stops and I'm being repositioned so that I'm on my hands and knees. A finger slowly traces my entrance. I whimper in fear and excitement. Without hesitation the finger dives into my entrance. I moan out in pain. It hurts like hell. But then suddenly, slightly, it starts to feel better. The finger curls up inside of me, hitting that perfect spot. I let out another cry this time in both pain and pleasure. The first finger is soon joined by an second, and then shortly after, a third. Finally the fingers pull out of me. There's some rustling and then I can feel the head of a cock postitoned at my entrance.

There's hot breath on my neck. "You ready?" an all too farmiliar voice hisses in my ear. Wait a second...what's going on? My confusion is interrupted by the cock is easing slowly into me. This person starts a slow sliding motion in and out. I moan again. This seems to excite my partner futher. He mumbles under his breath. The thrusting gets harder and faster and I start to moan with each one. Suddenly I'm hit in the perfect spot again and I know I'm close. .God. I'm gonna... Again I feel the urge to cry out, and this time I do.

"RRRROOOGGER!" My eyes snap open. I'm laying on the couch in the loft. My pants are soaking wet and the outline of an erection is visible. The mid-afternoon sunlight still fills the loft. Suddenly I panic. I look at the clock over on the stove. 3:30. Roger and Collins have been out grocery shopping for a little under twenty-five minutes. I must have dosed off on the couch.

Then something else dawns on me. Did I just call out Roger's name? ROGER! Shit shit shit. No, I did NOT just have a wet dream about my best friend. Did I? I sit up and take in my lower half. I'm sticky and disgusting and cum is dripping down my legs. Fuck. I need a shower. I head down the hall to the bathroom.

"What the hell is wrong with me?" I ask out loud as I start up a nice cold shower. I peel off my clothes and toss them in the hamper. As I step into the shower and let the cold water cool me off, I can't get the image out of my mind. Roger's hands running all over my body. Roger's tounge in all the right places. Roger inside of me- NO! I break the thought off mid-word.

This is just like when we kissed. I tell myself. It's just me being a confused teenager.

Except...I don't know anymore. There's definatly something with Roger and I. And this time, I can't use my break-up as an excuse.

Yay! Another ch! R&R please. Next chapter will be a definate plot mover. *meschievious grin*