I melted under Craig's touch; any sort of contact between us sent shivers down my spine. He was on top of me, kissing and licking my neck. I moaned at he traced his tongue from my ear down to my collarbone. Craig nipped at my pale skin, causing my breath to hitch. He bit down on my skin and sucked lightly, gradually getting rougher. My fingernails were leaving evidence of our sexual encounter on his back and he loomed over me. I couldn't believe this was happening. I couldn't believe Craig was doing this to me.

I felt Craig's mouth leave my skin. I whined in protest but he seductively said, "Trust me, you'll be fine soon."

Craig kissed down my stomach and tugged at my boxers. I immediately threw my boxers off from around my waist and before I could lay back, he took me into his mouth.

I shot up in my bed, clutching the covers and sheets that surrounded me. My heart was pounding and I was sweating profusely. I removed my covers and groaned at my soiled bed.

That was a dream.

I had a wet dream about Craig. Twelve year olds have wet dreams, not seventeen year olds. This was embarrassing, even to myself. I smacked my hand to my face at the thought of having a sexual dream starring Craig.

I slipped out of my bed and walked over to my bathroom. I cleaned myself up and put on a pair of fresh boxers. I removed my bedsheets and took them downstairs to our laundry room and furiously stuffed them into the washer. I poured soap into the washer, tapped some buttons, and the washer came to life, spitting water and spinning the linens.

As I made my way back upstairs I heard a faint knock at my front door. I stared at the door, confused as to why someone would be at my house at four in the morning. I turned away from the door, thinking that I had made up the noise in my mind, but it happened again, a bit louder this time.

I made my way over and looked through the peep hole. I saw Craig standing on my porch, smoking a cigarette, half turned towards the street and half turned towards my door.

I opened the door and ushered him inside. He flicked his cigarette into the snow and ducked into my front room. I quietly closed the door behind him.

"What are you doing here?" I whispered. I wasn't sure if my parents were home or not, but I didn't want to wake them. It was mainly so they wouldn't be questioning Craig at four AM and so they wouldn't think he was a booty call.

"I got kicked out," he answered in a low tone, "I didn't want to bother Ma with what happened earlier today. Also, nice boxers."

I looked down at myself. All I was sporting was a pair of boxers that were stripped with smiley faces. I ignored that comment. I'm glad I had thrown on boxers before I came downstairs.

"So you need to crash here?"

"That's what I was thinking," Craig said as he removed his coat. My coat, actually.

"Do you have any coats of your own?" I thought aloud. Fuck, that sounded mean.

"Uh, I do. I just thought this one was comfortable." Craig said lamely. He avoided eye contact with me. It seemed that he constantly did that.

"Okay, well, do you want something to eat?" I asked as I walked towards my refrigerator. I was hungry and a midnight snack sounded delicious. I rummaged through my fridge, only finding tupperwear filled with sauces and weird healthy food. I eventually settled on plain pasta.

"No, I'm fine."

"Craig," I said, "I've never seen you eat. Why not?"

Craig bit his lower lip. He thought about his response before finally saying, "I'm just not hungry."

I rolled my eyes, "Don't tell me you're self-conscious about eating."

"No, I'm just not a fucking charity case. I don't need your shit," Craig retortedt.

I peaked around my fridge door and looked at him, confused. I tilted my head to the side and said, "I never thought you were one, dude. I was just offering you food because you're my guest. I was being hospitable."

Craig sat down on my couch, ignoring my offer. I threw my pasta into the microwave. Once the microwave made a ding! to signal that my food was ready, I took it over to Craig. I decided that he needed it more than me.

"Fuck off," he immediately said.

"You're in my house, I'm feeding you, take it," I said, looking directly into his eyes. I didn't want to break eye contact with his beautiful sapphires, but I did to avoid making the situation awkward. Craig sighed and snatched the tupperwear from my hands.

"I need a fork." he said.

"What's the magic word?" I teased.

"Fuck you," he said. I stared at him expectantly. He sighed and muttered, "Please."

"There ya go," I flashed him a smile; Craig responded by chucking a noodle at me.

I giggled as I avoided the flying pasta. I grabbed a fork and made my way back to him. I handed Craig the utensil and before I could make a witty reply about how he needed to say thank you, he started scarfing down on the carbohydrates.

"Woah!" I exclaimed, "Calm down! You're going to vomit or something. Dude, if you're that hungry I can make you more food."

"It's okay," Craig said in between bites, "This should be fine. I'm just fucking starving."

I watched Craig eat the large serving of pasta. I wasn't sure if I was worried that he was binging or if I was impressed that he could eat so much in one sitting. I decided that I was more worried than impressed.

"Are you not fed at home?" I asked as I sat down next to him.

"Don't treat me like a charity-"

"Fucking stop with that bullshit," I said, frustrated, "I don't think you're a charity case! You're my damn friend and I'm just worried about you, dude. That's what friends are supposed to do. Answer my god damn question."

"Fine," Craig angrily replied, "No, I'm usually not fed. If we ever have food, it goes to Ruby. I'm fed at school and by Token's grandmother. There. Happy?"

"Yes."

Craig and I locked eyes. I refused to break eye contact. Craig may be stubborn, but he was no where near as stubborn as I was.

Craig tore his eyes away first. I knew I could out due him. He casually looked around my living room as if he was searching for something to spark a conversation.

"Can I read one of your books?" he suddenly asked.

"Yeah, of course," I said. Craig made his way towards my room. I followed behind him.

I suddenly remembered that my sheets weren't on my bed. My comforter was on the floor, still dirty from my dream.

"Uh, wait!" I exclaimed, tugging on Craig's shirt. Craig looked over his shoulder without slowing his climb.

"What, dude?"

I ducked under his arm and ran up the stairs as fast as my skinny legs could take me. I ran into my room, grabbed my blanket, and stuffed it into my shower. When I exited my bathroom, I saw Craig standing infront of my bookcase with Crime and Punishment in his hands.

"Look," he said without looking up from the book, "I knew you were kinda... strange, but why don't you sleep with sheets?"

I looked at my bed. Fuck. I needed an excuse.

"I, uh, I got really sweaty?" I questioned.

Craig chuckled and shook his head, "Was that seriously the best excuse you could come up with?"

"I swear!"

The taller teen raised his eyebrows and sarcastically said, "Yeah, sure."

I grunted and rolled my eyes. I knew that I wasn't very convincing but I wasn't going to blatantly admit that I had had a sex dream about Craig. I didn't even want to admit it to myself. I guess being sexually deprived for the first time in three years caused my libido to revert back to a twelve year olds.

What Craig did next didn't help my sexual frustrations.

Craig placed the novel he held on my bookcase. He pulled his shirt over his head, throwing it on the floor. Next, he started unbuckling his belt and pulled his pants down. He kicked his pants ontop of his shirt to form a small pile of Craig-clothes. Black Calvin Klein boxer briefs clung to his legs and his private region.

I didn't know what to do. I sat there and stared instead of turning around to give him some privacy. His body was the same as it had been on Ma's porch, except he had a couple new bruises.

I had to be dreaming again. There was no way this just happens to people.

"Stop ogling me, you're making me self-conscious," Craig said.

"What the fuck," I whispered, turning away from him, "You did this on purpose."

Craig reached for the novel and sat on my bed.

Fuck you, I thought, This is fucking bullshit. Fuck you. I want to fuck you.

"Yeah, maybe," he grinned.

Why was he being a tease?

"It's fun."

Shit. I thought out loud again. My face glowed a bright red and burned brighter than a thousand suns. Why was this happening to me?

"I've never had a gay friend. It's funny to watch your reactions," Craig admitted. I flicked him off and stormed out of my bedroom. This wasn't fair. Craig couldn't just get undressed and lay on my bed just to tease me. Straight friends don't do that to their gay friends. Well, unless they're major dicks, like Craig was.

I went downstairs to the kitchen. I sat in a chair that was at our normally abandoned round dinner table. I buried my face in my hands. I was so embarrassed by everything that had happened since I woke up. Whatever bad karma I had was catching up with me currently.

I folded my arms on the table and laid my head down on them. I refused to return to my room. I didn't want to face Craig and his teasing. I tried thinking about how Daniel would never have done something like that, but my mind soon became foggy with drowsiness. The last thing I remembered before I fell asleep was my washer ringing to signal that my sheets were finished washing.