Date: Thu, 10 Aug 2000 19:14:01 -0400
From: Grendel_Rex@dhmail.net
Subject: Last Night 2 GM yf

The Last Night 2
Or "Just a Minute, Mom!"

	Due to the overwhelming fan support (thank you so much!) I am going
to try and make `The Last Night' a series!  I've got some nice plans for
the story.  I'll add I make no speculations on anyone's sexuality save my
own.  This story is based on true people but is based in fiction.  As it
is, the story deals with love between two young boys.  If you aren't down
with that I suggest you go somewhere else (I'll leave that destination up
to you).  Suggestions or Comments welcomed at Grendel_Rex@dhmail.net.

	I awoke to the sun shining through my window.  I half expected the
last night was a dream, the best dream.  But the slight snoring next to me
told me differently.  I tried to roll over quietly, so as not to wake up
Chris.  When I make it I find that he is facing me, still asleep.
	He looks so beautiful.  His eyes are closed and yet open, I could
see his eyes moving in REM sleep.  There was no care or worry and he was
happy.  And because he is happy I am too.  Carefully I lay my head against
him and feel his warmth.  The smell is intoxicating.  How can I put it?
Chris smelled of clothes freshly laundered.  He always had that clean scent
to him that I envied.  Taking it in I bring my ear to his chest and listen
to his heart.  The steady beating, along with his even breath, nearly lulls
me to sleep.
	But then his arms envelop me and I sigh happily.  Chris kisses my
forehead and lays his jaw on my skull.  "Good morning."
	I kiss his chest and hug him back.  "Good morning to you too."  I
begin traveling upward, placing angel kisses on his chest and neck until I
come to his face.  The smile on his face grows as I move in to kiss him.
	"Boys!"  A knock at the door and we both jump to opposite sides of
the bed.  I watch in horror as the doorknob jiggles.  "Jason.  The door is
locked.  I need to come in."
	"Just a second mom!"  I pull down the covers and at once I feel the
slight breeze everywhere.  Chris has to suppress a giggle as we both see
I'm completely naked.  I may have joined in except for the knocking at my
door.  I quickly looked around and to my terror I couldn't find my
underwear anywhere.  Where are my clothes?  I mouthed to Chris, indicating
my naked crotch.  Chris dug under the covers, grabbed a pair, and threw it
at me.  Without thinking I placed both my feet in and yanked up hard.
	RRRiippp (I guess I should add it in now.  Chris and I were always
two sizes off.  He wore a small and I a large).  Chris couldn't help but
laugh as I reached for the door.  My mom stood there, looking at me with
suspicious eyes.  "What is going on in here?  Why is Chris laughing?  And
what was that noise?"
	"We. I." Words failed me as I tried to grasp onto some sense of
stability.  "I accidentally tripped and I think I got a hole in my undies."
	"Well, you're still young and uncoordinated.  You'll grow out of it
soon.  But don't lock this door, we don't want secrets in this house."
	"Yes ma'am." My mom always knew what to say to make me feel better.
	"Good.  Breakfast is in twenty minutes.  Why don't one of you
shower?"
	"Okay, mom."  I closed the door and leaned against it.  It was so
hard living with my family.  I looked at Chris and all my troubles seemed
to dissipate.  Well, there were a few.  "You did that on purpose, didn't
you."
	Chris was trying to keep a straight face.  "I plead the fifth."
	"Oh, you!"  I ran and jumped on the bed and tackled him.  I
straddled his chest and began tickling him.  Chris' laughter was music to
my ears.  The door opened behind us and I didn't need to guess who it was.
	"Boys!  What did I say about..." The way she suddenly trailed off
worried me.  It wasn't the fact that we were on the bed tickling; we had
been doing that for years.  Suddenly I remembered the underwear I had on
and looked back.  From what I could see the tear ran straight down from the
tag all the way to the flap in the front.  I quickly rolled over on my butt
and turned to face her. Thank God half of Chris was still under the covers
or else we would have had a real hard time to explain this.  Even so my
mother's cheeks were crimson and I couldn't tell if it was from
embarrassment or anger.  She looked at us for one brief second and closed
the door.
	"All right.  Where is my underwear?"  Chris smiled and pulled up my
pair.  I pulled the pair off, or at least tried to.  They were on too
tight.  "Uh, Chris.  How much do you like this pair?"
	"I hadn't thought about it.  Why?"
	"Because these aren't coming off anytime soon."
	"Well, we'll have to fix that."  Chris walked over to my desk and
grabbed a pair of scissors.  He must have seen the terror in my eyes
because he smiled.  "Don't worry, Jason.  I'm not going to cut off anything
I'll miss."  Somewhat more at ease I sat down on the bed.
	Chris placed his hand on my chest and slowly trailed his way down
to my abdomen.  Once there he moved to the side and rested his hand on my
thigh.  He knelt down and slid one of the thin blades in-between my leg and
the tight elastic.  After three tries the blade cut through and I felt
blood reaching my toes (well, maybe that's a gross exaggeration).  I do
know that the attention was drawing blood to another extremity.  It didn't
help matters as Chris knelt above my crotch, breathing his sweet breath on
me.  As he cut through the other side he pulled the blades together and
mischievously brought them up between my legs.  The cold metal under my
balls frightened me and I immediately jumped back.  "No!"
	After the initial shock I looked to see I had kicked Chris to the
floor.  I quickly knelt beside him and held him.  "Oh my God.  Chris, are
you all right?"  The scissors had landed away from him, thank God.
	"I'm fine, but why the sudden panic?"
	"It.. it was cold."  I didn't linger on the subject and Chris
didn't press it.  And that was when I felt it, a wet dripping.  And it was
coming from my balls.  I reached down and pulled my hand back, my fingers
tinged red.  Chris saw it as well and horror came over his face.
	"Oh my god what happened?"
	"I... you cut me." And I didn't even feel it happen.
	"Are you all right?"  Chris' voice was reaching a louder pitch than
I liked but at that moment I didn't care.  Chris shot his hand under my sac
and pulled it back.  There was blood, but not as much.
	"I guess so.  Get me some tissue paper."  Chris walked over to my
desk while I pulled off the underwear.  As he came back with the box we
looked at the torn cloth.  Flecks of red were all over it and some were
still wet.  Chris handed me the box and I pulled out half the tissues.
Carefully I placed them in the front of my underwear and pulled them up.  I
looked at Chris, his eyes watering with tears.
	"I'm so sorry, Jason."
	"It's all right, Chris."  I moved over, hugged him, and tried to
reassure him.  I stroked his hair and kissed his cheek.  "You didn't mean
for it to happen."
	"But I cut you."
	"Well, I've cut myself too, just not anywhere that delicate."  I
pulled back and looked into his eyes.  My attempt at a joke wasn't wasted
exactly but he still felt bad.  "Look, it's my fault too.  If I hadn't
pushed you away then you wouldn't have slipped."
	"I guess.  It was stupid of me to do that.  I'm sorry."  Slowly the
melancholy left and we got ourselves back to normal.
	"Um, Chris."
	"Yeah?"
	"I think maybe you should go shower now, unless you want to go to
the breakfast table naked."  I giggled and Chris did too.  He grabbed a
pair of underwear and headed for the bathroom.
	"You know I would do anything for you, right Jason?"
	This was conversation was more out of my depth than I was used to.
"Uh, yeah.  Me too."  Looking around the hall and not hearing any parent we
stole a brief kiss before he started his shower.
	I wandered into the kitchen and sat down at the table.  My mom had
regained her composure but not by much.  Neither of us raised our eyes to
greet each other.  My father looked up from the paper and glanced at me.
	"Good morning, son."
	"Morning."
	"So I heard you had some problems this morning."  I glanced at my
mother's direction but still refused to recognize her.  "Do you want to
explain it?"
	I'm sure mom gave you all the details.  "I tripped and I ripped my
underwear.  Chris made a joke about it so I started tickling him.  Mom came
in and saw how bad the rip was.  When Chris went into the shower I put on a
different pair and that's it."  And next time a little privacy wouldn't
hurt.
	(This was the way I talked with my parents, and still do.  I
mentally subtract the first and last sentence to avoid a confrontation.
The few times I have spoken my entire mind I got hell for it and ended up
talking to a psychiatrist.  For the sake of clarity I'll skip most of them
unless they're pertinent.)
	"So were they salvageable?"
	"No.  I threw them out.  I have plenty."
	"Well, son, you may have plenty, but we don't have a lot of money."
I began to tone him out.  This stank of lecture and I had grown accustomed
to it.  Ever since the age of six I had learned the key to ignoring my
parents.  If only they did me the same courtesy I might be able to live
with them for the next six years.
	While I watched my father's mouth move I thought about last night.
It was so wonderful.  Not just the sex, which was spectacular, but the
honesty Chris and I shared.  After the third try and we were waiting we
talked about how long we had known.  Chris had known for roughly eight
months before I did.  I asked him why he hadn't told me sooner.
	"Jason!"  Damn, he had caught me daydreaming.  I looked at his face
and mumbled my apology.  It had always been a problem of mine to look
another person in the eye.  I had always felt it to intimidating.  Only now
I could do so with Chris.  I caught myself and nodded when I heard my
father's voice stop.  It continued again, the cadence switching from point
to point.  Suddenly I couldn't hear that.  All I could hear was the water
in my bathroom coming to a stop.
	I looked over to the stove and my mother.  She was making a large
plate of French toast, Chris' favorite.  She set it on the table, added a
large plate of bacon, syrup, and topped off with a jug of orange juice.
(Guess you can see why I wear a large.)  Chris walked in a few minutes
later, wearing a T-shirt and underwear.
	I guess we got really lucky when it came to our parents.  They
didn't freak if you came to the table in your skivvies, just as long as you
were dressed with company and wore a shirt for dinner.  When Chris looked
at me and smiled I instantly wished I had brought a shirt too.
	As my mother joined us to eat I quickly sat closer to the table to
avoid being noticed.  I don't think my parents noticed but Chris did.  He
smiled and as our hands met for prayer he ran his thumb up and down my
hand.  Once the prayer ended I was reluctant to let go.
	Breakfast was pretty much the same as always.  My mother was dead
to the world when she read the paper.  My father had half his attention on
the paper, the other on the table.  Underneath the table was a different
story.  Chris and I tried to play footsies, although it was tough at an
angle.  One time he accidentally hit my mother.  She yelped and told us to
stop.  As soon as we were done Chris helped me load the dishes in the
dishwasher and put up the remaining food (Most stories I have read label
this as a voluntary act.  This was never the case in my house, regardless
of whom cooked).
	"Chris' parents will be here in a few hours so I don't want you two
going outside."
	"Okay."  I don't think they could have dragged me outside with wild
horses.
	"Oh, and Jason.  Take a shower before they get here."
	"Yes ma'am."  I walked toward my bedroom with Chris in tow.  As
soon as we were inside I closed the door and pulled Chris to me.  Although
we had just eaten I hungered for his touch.  And I wasn't disappointed.  He
kissed me with an equal passion as we sank against the wall.  I felt his
hands run down my back and clutch my butt cheeks.  I ran my fingers through
his still wet hair, enticed by the feel.  Chris ground his crotch into mine
and I could feel the hardness waiting beneath his underwear.
	I could hear footsteps approaching and knew this had to stop.  I
took my left foot and propped it up against the door.  The doorknob turned
and nothing happened.  Well, except for my mother running into the door.
Chris jumped in my arms obviously surprised.
	"Jason!  What's going on in there?"
	"Chris and I are making out, Mom!"  I yelled through the closed
door.  Chris looked at the door and then me in horror.
	"WHAT?"
	Chris backed away and I opened the door, trying to hide my
erection.  My mother's face was entirely red and flushed.  If it wasn't the
fact that I had done it I would have died laughing knowing she could get
this worked up.  "We're playing on the computer, mom.  Nothing is going
on."
	"That is not something to joke about, Jason."
	"I agree."
	"Well... I want you to shower."
	"But mom!  We were going to play Alien!"  The best thing my parents
taught me: If you're going to lie, follow through to the end.
	"No buts, mister.  I want you to go into the shower now.  Chris can
play by himself."  There was no way in hell I would have that when I was
here.
	"Okay."  I closed the door and breathed a sigh of relief.  When I
turned to Chris for a hug, however, relief was not what I found.  He was
shaking badly and pale.  I went to hold him and he shrugged off my arms.
"Chris.  What's wrong?"
	He looked at me with his pale blue eyes and filled me with sorrow.
"How could you do that?  How could you tell her that?"
	"What?  Why did I tell her the truth?"  I moved over to the bed and
sat down, never taking my eyes off of him.  "Do you think she would believe
me?"
	"You didn't see her face when she saw you tickling me."
	"Yeah."  I didn't know how I was going to build up a solid defense.
"It really isn't a big deal."
	"It isn't a big deal?"  He finally stopped shaking and stood in
front of me.  "How can it not be a big deal?  We're queers!"  I had heard
the phrase around school but really I had no concept of it.  "God, it's
like talking to a kid!"
	"Okay, so maybe I'm not hip to all the trendy words.  But here's
something I do know.  I love you, Chris.  Do you love me?"
	His face softened once I said it.  "You know I do."
	"Then what's to worry about?  The folks will find out sooner or
later."
	"I'd rather it be later."  He sat down on the bed next to me.
	"Okay.  Look, whatever happens is going to happen.  Don't worry
about tomorrow."  Chris smiled and I pulled him into my arms.  This time he
didn't struggle.  "And I want you to know that I love you, Chris."
	"Oh Jason."  He kissed me, not like before, but with a gentle
passion.  "That was the biggest crock of shit I've ever heard."
	"Yeah, but it was what you needed to hear."  I could almost sense
my mother walking towards us.  I got up, grabbed a pair of underwear, and
turned to him.  "I'll be out in a few minutes.  Wait for me?"
	"You know I will."
	"Oh, and plug in the Alien game."  As I walked out of my room I
could see my mother glancing down the hall.  I held up the underwear and
headed into the bathroom.
	I tried to hurry in the shower.  But even before I could get in I
was stopped.  I saw the towel Chris had used.  I held it up to my nose and
inhaled.  The smell of him permeated the thing and I felt my desire for him
rise like a balloon.  With an extreme effort I put it down and walked into
the shower.  I started the water okay and I even managed to shampoo my hair
with success.  But everything stopped when I saw a red drop hit the bottom
of the shower.  I reached my hand under my balls and brought it back.
There was a bright red drop on my middle finger, but that was it.  I made
sure to wash down there extra special so as to make sure I didn't get an
infection.
	As soon as I dried off I grabbed some toilet paper and draped it in
the front of my underwear.  I got back in the room and looked at the clock.
I had been in the shower for over thirty minutes.  And all of Chris' stuff
was out of my room.  It looked so barren.  Was this how I was going to feel
over the next three and a half months?
	Two arms encircled me in a bear hug and I could feel the coarse
hairs dig against my arms.  "Hey dad."  He smelled my hair and ruffled it
up.
	"Hey son.  Gosh you smell good when you're clean."  (There has to
be some familial precedent for smell.)
	"Well, I hope I smell good even when I'm dirty."  I pulled myself
out of his arms and looked at his face.  "Where's Chris?"
	"Oh, he helped me take his stuff out to the garage and I think he's
upstairs in the game room."
	"Okay.  I'll go see him."
	"Why don't you get dressed before you go up.  The Spar's should be
here in a couple of hours and we're going to go out to lunch before they
leave."
	"Alright."  I got dressed in my usual combination of khaki pants
and khaki shirt (This was my idea of color scheme until I was in high
school.  Green on Green, Blue on Blue, Black on Black, etc. etc.  For a few
years I could not stomach the feel of jeans so I wore khakis or slacks).
As I put on my shoes I shut off the computer then headed upstairs.
	I loved our house in Southern Pines.  Once I get my own I plan to
build it upon this homes specifications (but including a basement).  It was
two stories, the top consisting of the master bedroom, loft family room, a
study, a second bedroom, and a huge room over the garage, including a
bathroom.  The downstairs was two bedrooms, two bathrooms, kitchen, dining
room, utility room, and a spacious living room.  My mother would invite her
graduating class over for refreshments and there was always space to
accommodate everyone.  One of the privileges of upper-middle class, I
guess.  The obvious question to me is if we could afford this: why did I
get a lecture about the cost of a three-dollar pair of underwear?
	The large room upstairs was the game room.  We had table tennis, an
air hockey table, a small fridge, and a 26-inch screen with a Sega genesis
(the highest standard at the time).  I closed the door and looked around.
Chris was playing Sonic 2 and I plopped down next to him.  I began running
my finger up and down his back and laughed as he became distracted and
died.
	"Jerk."
	"Come on, let's race."  I grabbed the second player control and hit
start.  I picked Tails, since Sonic was Chris' favorite.  Truth be told I
didn't mind being the squirrel, I just liked putting up a fuss to wrestle
with him.  I guess I didn't need to pretend anymore.  We played in silence,
not really knowing what to say.
	"Stop it."
	"Stop what?"
	"Stop throwing the race."  I didn't bother defending myself.  I had
been giving the races to him.  I got the system for Christmas and since
then I was a God at the two-player version.  I conceded and began winning
the next three races.  "Okay, you can start losing now."  We both laughed
and I had to hit the pause button.
	"So how are we going to do this?"  Chris stopped laughing and
looked out the window.  He took his time answering.
	"I'm not sure."  He looked at me and moved closer.  "I mean, the
distance is going to kill us.  And then there are..." He shrugged his
shoulders and I just nodded.  I knew to whom he was referring.  It wasn't
the parents, but rather the siblings.  Namely they were Pat and Nick,
Chris' two younger brothers.  Nick was a great kid, the kind you wanted
your brother to be.  The only problem was he looked up to the two of us and
was constantly around.  It never was a problem but now he had become one.
	Pat had always been a problem.  (I just want to say right now that
Pat is a great kid as well.  If you're reading this Pat, you know whom I'm
talking about).  Unlike Nick, Pat was constantly around us so as to get us
in trouble with the adults.  Any little act of rebellion or mischief and
Pat was right there, singing like a pigeon.  If Chris wanted to wait and
tell his parents there was no way we could be together at Thanksgiving.
	"We'll deal with it."  I put my jaw on his head as he leaned on me.
"We can always write each other.  There's a place where you can hide the
letters, right?"
	"I can find a place.  Worse case I can always give it to Danielle."
That confused the hell out of me.  Danielle was Chris' older sister who was
at college.
	"Danielle?  Why would you give it to her?  I thought you didn't
want the family to know?"
	"Well, she won't tell if I don't tell."
	"You mean?"  (I REALLY don't know about this.  I sincerely doubt it
but it helps the story)
	"Haven't you wondered why she still has the same roommate from her
freshman year?"
	"I didn't know."  I am constantly out of the loop in my family
affairs.
	"Well now you do."  He turned and looked into my eyes.  "I don't
know how I got so lucky."
	"Please, you could have done a lot worse than me."
	Chris lightly punched my arm.  "No, stupid.  I mean my sister."  I
lowered my head dejectedly and Chris raised my chin.  He planted a kiss on
my lips that was so sweet.  I pulled him closer to me and relished the
feeling.
	It didn't last too long as someone knocked on the door.  "Boys?"
It was my dad.
	"Come in!"  Chris separated from me with a groan and by now I was
as frustrated as could be.
	"Hope I'm not interrupting the game but Chris' parents are here.  I
think Chris should go greet them."  He walked off and I could hear him walk
downstairs.
	"Oh God."  I didn't realize this was happening so quickly.  I
looked at Chris as he stood up.  He shut off the game and held his hand out
to me.
	"Well, we knew this was going to happen."  I stood up with his help
and couldn't help myself.  I pulled him into a crushing hug and began to
cry.  Not the loud bawling I had feared but silent sobs.  When I pulled
back Chris was red-eyed as well.  "And you are the best thing that could
have happened to me."
	I walked into the bathroom and pulled out some toilet paper.  We
dabbed our eyes and then threw the paper into the toilet.  "Go ahead and
say `hi' to the folks.  I'll be down in a minute."  Chris nodded and walked
out.  I sat down on the toilet and tried to get my composure back.  I
pulled off another length of paper and blew my nose.  I looked in the
mirror and confirmed what I felt like.  A twelve year-old whose boyfriend
was leaving.
	Oh wow.  I had just called Chris my boyfriend.  I wonder if he
feels the same way.  I headed downstairs and saw Chris hugging his parents.
It was obvious to anyone that Chris got his looks from his mother.  She was
pretty and it just made Chris more handsome.  The only real physical trait
he had inherited from his dad were his eyes.  Unless you were going to
count something additional, that is.  (Ha-ha.)
	I went over, hugged each of them, and greeted them as I would my
own family.  (I guess in a way they are.  Besides, I had always been a
hugger.)  They in turn did the same and tried not to comment on my taste in
clothes (I'm convinced it was a conspiracy not to tell me how ugly the
clothes were.)  My dad suggested Denise (Chris's mom) sit down and wait for
my mom.  It figures.  My mom complains about me taking my time all morning
and when it comes time she's still in the shower.  Meanwhile we men went
out and loaded Chris' stuff into his parent's van.  Luckily I didn't see
the other Spar kids.
	"Where are Pat and Nick?"  Not that I was really interested, just
curious.
	"Oh.  Danielle is watching them while we pick Chris up."  I was
happy but I could tell Chris had mixed emotions.  He wouldn't face the
third degree from Pat, yet.  Instead he'd get the second degree from his
parents.  And Chris was nowhere near the master liar as me.  (Okay, I know
that had to come out badly.  Let's just say I'm a pretty good fiction
writer because a lot of what I tell my parent's was just that.)  "Well, we
really don't have to wait for Debbie.  I was hoping to hit the road now."
	"What?"  Both Chris and I asked in stereo.  I let Chris go ahead,
since he'd have a chance at convincing his dad.  "But I thought we were
going to go out to lunch with the Myrick's!"
	"Well, Chris, since we got here earlier than we expected we thought
we'd just drive straight back and eat in Raleigh as a family."
	"But that's not..." I grabbed his arm and stopped him.
	"It's okay, Mr. Spar.  I need to steal your son for just one
second."
	"Well, if it's just for one..." I dragged Chris back into the
garage while the two elder men talked.
	"Why did you do that?"
	"Because it wouldn't have helped.  Besides, it's not like we could
have done anything at Fitzgerald's."
	"I guess so.  But it's not fai-."
	"Nothing is.  We have to make due with what we have."
	"And what do we have?"
	"Right now?  We've got a garage to ourselves and a few seconds."  I
scooped him into my arms and picked him off the ground.  He had to suppress
a laugh as he leaned down to kiss me.  I set him on the ground and we
slowly pulled ourselves apart.
	"How do you always know what to say to make me feel so good?"
	"It's a lucky guess.  I'm going to run out eventually."
	"Never."
	"Chris, are you my boyfriend?"
	Chris debated that for a few seconds.  "Yeah, I guess I am."
	"I like that."  I hold him, not kissing him.  Just feeling his
warmth and listening to his heartbeat beneath his clothes.
	"I guess you're going to miss each other?"
	"Yeah, dad."  Chris pulled away from me and hugged his dad.
	"Well, you'll see each other at Thanksgiving."  And that was the
end.  His mom came out a few minutes later and they started getting into
the van.  I hugged Chris and leaned my mouth close to his ear.
	"I love you so much."  It was barely a whisper and I could only
hope that he could hear me.  Then I heard something; something I could have
mistaken as the wind.  As they pulled away and I waved furiously I fought
with that thought.  The wind doesn't tell you it `loves you more'.  Chris
said it; Chris told me he loves me more.
	I waved until the van was out of sight and then I ran down the
driveway to see it turn onto the main street.  I even contemplated crossing
the woods to reach them at the highway.  Instead I walked back in and sat
on my bed.  I didn't cry but I wasn't happy either.  I was in neutral, a
constant state of ennui.
	My dad came in and sat next to me.  He held me and reminded me that
I started school in two weeks.  After lunch we would go out and buy school
supplies.  Time would go on, whether I wanted it to or not.


	Okay, not exactly a cheerful chapter, I grant you.  Worse news, I'm
treating this like real life.  Do you have to wait the agonizing 3 1/2
months for Thanksgiving?  No, I'm not that vindictive.  But there will be
some time in between (i.e. I don't know how to celebrate Thanksgiving.)
Rest assured Turkey day come.  So tell me what you think!
Grendel_Rex@dhmail.net