Hope you like!! EVERYONE REVIEW PLEEEASE...!!! This is not going to be easy. Twists to come... This may have to hold you over for a while. I have to type the next one up.

And though my edges may be rough,

I never feel I'm quite enough,

It might not seem like very much,

But I'm yours...

CHRIS

Kissing Gordie was very different to Becky kissing me. Her lips had been soft, wet. Gordie's were chapped, rough and angry as I mashed my mouth against his. I pulled my hands from his hair, wrapping my arms around his small body, squeezing the life out of him. Bear hugging. This wasn't a kiss, it was a war. I felt his blood in my mouth, bitter and twisted. I leaned away and spat into the dirt, before grabbing his face again. This was not sensible. But it sure as hell felt good...

Eventually, Gordie wrenched his lips away from mine with a wild gasp. His eyes met mine and we processed the situation, a little of our sanity returning.

I was lying on the dusty sidewalk at night, with my best (MALE) friend squirming deliciously beneath me. I merely tightened my grip, attacking his lips again. Refusing to acknowledge the sheer weirdness of this scene. This time I'm sure he kissed back, his tongue scraping along my rigid jaw. Damn this was so fucking wrong... but not wrong like it had been with Becky. Wrong because it was so wonderfully right in every way. His compact body fit every line of mine, and I thought I'd die if I were separated from him. But someone had to do it, I guess. I refused to let myself think as he pulled away again.

"Uh, Chris..?" Gordie murmured breathlessly.

"What?" I growled against his lips. So glad I'd found where mine belonged.

"Shouldn't we, uh...?" I saw (and felt) his eyes dart to Kerri's house. Music was still blaring out from inside. Thank fuck no one had come out to puke or smoke (second thoughts, they probably wouldn't have the grace to do either outside)

"Oh. Yeah." I reluctantly jumped up, pulling him with me.

"I better get home." Gordie moved back slightly. I grabbed his arm roughly, hating the distance.

"Um, Gordie. Can I sleepover? Nothin' gross or shit but my old man's on a mean streak. I was gonna ask anyway." I said honestly.

Don't think. Don't think don't think don't think! I commanded myself. Tonight would be about feelings, and being alive. I wouldn't face the truth until tomorrow. Like a child, I disregarded the consequences of everything that would happen (or had happened) that night.

Gordie's breathing faltered as he considered.

"Uh.. alright." The writer lost for words? This was getting even more freaky.

We walked back to his house in an awkward silence, a space between us. Had it really only been half an hour ago that we'd left? A lifetime of things had happened. Changed... SHUT THE FUCK UP.

I glanced at my friend, and saw he looked about as uncomfortable as I felt . God damn. How did we end up here? I thought to myself, I'll never be good enough. Never. SHUT UP!

"No one in. Parents outta town." Gordie muttered as we stepped through the front door. My heart jammed painfully in my chest, racing with an uncomfy mix of nausea and anticipation. Would there be more kisses?

The house was as dark as the street. Eerie. Silent. Gordie lead the way to his room, not bothering to switch on lights.

We stood on opposite ends of the room, the air humming around us. I could hear crickets buzzing far away, which was surprising since my pulse was drumming so loud in my ears. I wondered if I should set up my usual camp bed on the floor, praying I wouldn't have to.

Gordie flicked on the lamp. A dim light flared up at the ceiling and cast shadows over his face. He turned to look at me, and I gasped as I saw the marks I'd left on him. The harsh red lines on his jaw that were fast becoming bruises... I stumbled over to him, grabbing his face so I could examine the damage. I pulled up his shirt, revealing the already purple circles that peppered his all-too-prominent hipbones. I hissed.

"Jeez, Lachance. I've fucked you up pretty bad." My voice sounded weird, not my own. I swallowed and wet my lips. Why was my throat so damn dry?

He shrugged, "Naw. You're not that tough." A week smile ghosted in his eyes, but disappeared too fast. The bravado was false. Wrong. The humming seemed to intensify, whirling up the air between us like some mad electricity.

I laughed uneasily, one hand still on his face, the other clenched around a fistful of his shirt. He was so fucking fragile, like I could break him easily.

Slowly, I smoothed my fingers over his bruised jaw and up over his cheeks. Exploring his face. His eyes closed as I traced the shape of his lips. They parted slightly under my hands and I felt his breath on my fingertips. Enough. Enough. Enough.

Someone shouted at me, I think it was myself. This was so wrong. But that didn't stop me from pushing Gordie into a wall and kissing him again. I couldn't keep the aggressiveness out, but I don't think he could either. Perhaps we were clinging to our masculinity, trying to make it a fight rather than an embrace. In some ways, I guess it was better that way.

After a few minutes, Gordie wriggled out of my grasp, wiping a hand across his face. I remarked the deep circles that hollowed out his dark eyes, he was tired. And so was I. Tired of every stinking thing in my life, to put it mildly. Apart from Gordie. I could never be tired of him. I wondered if he was as tired as me.

I wrapped an arm around his little waist and pulled him on to his bed. Curling up against his back, I felt him slowly relax against me. His head fit perfectly into the crook of my shoulder. I sighed, closing my eyes. Trying to ignore the exclamations going off in my conflicted brain. Wrong wrong wrong! Part of me wanted to punch Gordie, hit him again and again. To bruise him and cut myself into little pieces. The other wanted to chain his little wrist to mine and never, ever let him go.

And so we lay on my best friend's bed – fully clothed – like spoons in a cutlery draw. Soon I felt Gordie's breathing slow as he fell asleep in my arms, and I sighed, wishing I could sleep so easily. To escape from this situation. From everything, really.

I pressed a kiss into his dark hair, trying to pull myself under. Stealing another moment. Because this had to be the last time. The one and ONLY time. I couldn't do this.... this was against the law. Against nature...

But deep down I knew I'd always come back for him....

In some fucked up way, I was his.

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