A/N: It's short, but it's an update!
Hands were going everywhere, mine were on him and his were on me and my room was growing incredibly hot. Hotter then the end of a cigarette that had left the scar that my left hand has just ran over, hotter then any desert in Africa, I bet.
A feeling was expanding in my chest and we moved in a rhythm apart from the dulled sound of the radio, and I was getting this sensation in my lower half all the way up to my stomach, it was queasy but I can never describe the way it felt. His hands brushed along the edge of my pants and we heard footsteps.
We stopped all movement, pulled apart and froze. My heart was racing in fear now, so loud I could hear it hammering away. I could only imagine one of my parents stumbling into my bedroom only to see Chris on top of me doing the things that two boys don't do together.
I held my breath, as the steps got closer, Chris quietly climbed into the empty space next to me. We watched as the shadow passed by my door, neither of us blinking. We could hear the sounds of the floorboards groaning and the crickets and frogs singing their nightly lullaby.
Eventually we heard a toilet flush and the sink. The footsteps passed by again shuffling back off to bed, and finally I sighed out quietly. If my door 'd swung open we would've been exposed. I wasn't filled with excitement, it was fear, fear that my dad would skin me alive if he every witnessed it. He'd spit at me and telling me about how Denny would've never had a thought of being a faggot.
Shame passed through my veins. Chris' hand found mine in the dark; he laced his fingers through mine. We were bare arm to arm, palm to palm. It wasn't hot anymore, not even comfortable warmth. It was cold with realization. We fell asleep without speaking.
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I had terrible nightmares of being chased out of town; even the junkyard dog Chopper who had been long replaced chased us. Our dads were red-faced, our mother cried out. We could never escape them.
I woke up with a start, bewildered. Chris looked up at me groggily I had yanked on his arm. I didn't tell him about the dream; I just looked down at him. "What's the matter?" He finally asked me.
"Just a bad dream." I said quietly, I looked away.
"Scare ya?"
"Yeah, but it was just a dream."
"'Bout Denny? Gordo you used to have those a lot when we were kids." Him bringing it up made me think about it, how it was when we were kids. We wouldn't be in this mess; we'd be shooting the shit in the tree house with Vern and Teddy taking about dirty magazines and cartoons.
"Not about Denny, about…" I laid back down next to him, "About what happened last night. If my parents would've came in."
Chris shifted a little bit, "That is scary." He looked me straight in the eye. "If my old man found out I'd be a dead man. A real dead man."
It hit him to we couldn't be found out. Only one more year in high school and then we could get out of Castle Rock and be whomever we wanted. "Chris what are we going to do?"
A/N: Well sorry for the length, I just really wanted to update and announce that tomorrow is my last day of school so, I SHALL be writing tons this summer. I'm thinking about writing more fan fiction, although other then Stand By Me I have no idea who and what to write about and in, so you lovely reviewers should suggest some.