A/N: Well, I wrote this, and read over it, and it must have a million typos, and I find it to be out of character, but you know what I'm never content, I'm a slacking perfectionist. Thank you reviewers! I like the feedback; I like knowing what you enjoyed about the post.

When I woke up my bedroom door was open, there was a note by the bed. It was from my mom, explaining how she'd be in town. I tried to lie down without stirring Chris; he was still out like a light. And just as before I had fallen asleep last night, my head flooded with thoughts, with everything that had happened that night. 'Gordie, I needed to know' it echoed in my brain.

The more I thought about it, I began to wonder what he was talking about, needed to know that I liked him, that I loved him, that I cared, or that I wanted him the way he wanted me. How did I see him? I looked down at him, his eyes moving behind the closed lids. He told me that he loved me. Chris and I had been best friends; we'd implied that love, trust that goes between friends but never that, we never uttered those words. When had we become so serious?

Why was he the one that got to choose, why did he start it? Why didn't I? Because the thought had never crossed my mind until he pounced on me. It never occurred until he shoved his mouth onto mine. Because Chris was a leader and I followed. I frowned to myself, looking at him. Why did he get to lead?

Many a nights we had fought for dominance, punches were thrown. We got violent about it, but the only time I had started it was the night he came to visit me in the middle of the night. When I told him that he was an asshole, and I wasn't kidding. He was messing up my world then, and he was now. Even if he was sleeping just looking at him made me angry. His face, which had shifted into its mature form, I had to think about what we used to look like.

The angles of his face, the shape of his nose, the lips I'd seen swear, and spit, I had kissed. I had kissed them once for myself, every other time he started it. It was like instigating me. It was like saying, "I'm faster them you!" and taking off, he did that to me all the time when we were kids. I got close to him I could feel his breath on my cheek.

I wasn't sure what I was going to do. I moved quietly away from him, padded across my room, and got dressed, and came back to him on the bed. I was standing there awkwardly, but I had closed the door, there was no reason to feel like I was being watched.

Then I moved, I sat on his stomach, moved my face toward his and waited for his eyes to open.

"Gordie, what the he-" He said without even opening his eyes, and I forced myself on him. Screw what the bible said, forget that we were both guys, don't think about our fathers, and how they would kill us if either saw, wipe fainting mothers from our heads. Just him and I, lips to lips everything else was tossed aside except for the feeling in my gut, the warm feeling, it pulsed it's way up through my chest and rested at the bottom of my throat.

'Gordie, I needed to know', well there it was answered last night, and here's the reassurance. He pulled away from me, "What are you doing?"

"I'm doing what you always do to me." I stated triumphantly.

He just shrugged, Chris couldn't deny it, and "This isn't because of what happened at the movies right? You wanted to on your own."

I just kind of nodded, I wasn't sure what was going on with my emotions, I went from angry to now embarrassed. I avoided looking in his eyes. Chris just laughed and pulled me down on the bed next to him. I remembered what I had told him last night, but he didn't answer, he was asleep.

"Chris, you and I will never be normal." I paused, he didn't say anything, "We keep trying you know? You trying to be a good kid, trying to study, staying out of trouble, and I kept trying to make my dad proud, and I keep on trying to make my mom happy. But this, this makes us one more step from being normal."

I looked at him; I looked at his face as I did when he wasn't awake. The same face I saw everyday, it was a comfort, a familiar thing to depend on. I was looking at him hard, without even noticing, everything was the way I pictured it when he wasn't around. I was looking so hard; I almost missed what he said.

"I know." Came quietly from him. Of course he knew.

"Then what are we doing? Why? What's the fucking point, that's all we ever wanted to be."

"Gordie shut the hell up."

"No!"

"Yes!"

"NO!"

"Goddamn it!" He jumped on me, lying over me. "Gordie, you always told me that I had to do better, I had to study hard, you pushed me, and you, you're always trying to please your fucking old man. Gordie what about what we want?"

I lay there underneath him looking at his throat, and not his eyes, anywhere but his eyes.

"I want to get out of this town, away from all these assholes who've been putting my down my whole life. What do you want Gordo? What the hell do you want, you've screamed and whine and cried about things, things that I don't really think matter to you."

I dared a look in his eyes; anger mixed in with something I couldn't name swirled around in his iris. "I cared about Denny. I care about…you." Two people I had cried over, and he'd been there both times. Silence expanded in the room, it filled up all the spaces, even the gap between him and me.

"What do you want." He whispered making me look at him, it wasn't a question it wasn't a statement. It was just words that fell into my room at the end of June.

The word burned my throat, the answer of what I wanted. I wanted to get out; I wanted to be some place where Chris and I could talk about this without being weird or wrong. I thought about Chris and I just being pals again, fishing and talking about girls. It didn't sit right anymore.

"I want."

I extended my arms out and pulled him close to me. My head didn't rest on his chest, I was equal level with him, and my forehead touched his. "This." I stated.

If Chris were a girl, that moment would be cute, if I told my mom she'd aw at me, and hug me. Chris wasn't as girl. I put my hands on the sides of his face. He was my best friend. He was the person I talked to, the person I went on adventures with, we played cards, and read comics and sang along badly with the radio. He was Chris. And with my hands on his face, with our foreheads, with my bedroom door closed, I didn't kiss him and he didn't kiss me. We did it together. We weren't beating the snot out of each other, we weren't screaming, we weren't swearing and letting our hate come out we were just being what seemed nice.

Later that night, he'd come back after grabbing new clothes, after dinner was finished and my parents were well asleep. He appeared at my window like he always did. He smiled at me, for the first time things weren't choppy, or awkward. Even when we had done the whole 'normal' hanging out thing I couldn't help but feel in my stomach the worry.

The radio was on tonight, but I didn't bother to remember who was singing or advertising. We sat on my bed facing each other, we had been trying to play cards, but something just wasn't working, we'd forget if we were playing rummy or go fish. Then I caught him looking at me over my cards, and we started laughing. It wasn't just a chuckle, it was large heaps of it rolling out, and soon we couldn't breathe. Once we talked about that laughed and we never did understand why it was so funny but it was. It was you had to have been there, and even though we were it was just apart of the moment.

Then it took over us, I started out kissing him, and then it got a little more serious. It was slow and then it was fast, and the next thing I knew both our shirts were off, and a part of myself told me it was wrong, but I didn't care, and then it hit me.

What were we doing? Chris has done things with girls, he told me, and I hadn't. What were we supposed to do?