His name was Aubrey. He was gay, they said. He was queer, a freak. He said so himself, and so they shunned him at school, even though he’d only been there two or three months.

Well, I was gay too, but I didn’t say so, and I was still pretty popular at school. Did the fact that I was too afraid to speak up about my preferences make me better than him? I didn’t think so.

So he was gay? So what? So was I, and I found it intriguing.

He wasn’t fantastic looking, not by my standards or anyone else’s. His shoulder length brown hair was plain, stringy and without highlights. His eyes were gray, I supposed, and he had awful freckles.

He dressed funny too, in torn jeans, black sneakers, plaid shirts, and, most famously, an orange vest, which he wore open.

The one great thing about Aubrey’s appearance was his smile. Despite how he was picked on at school, Aubrey wasn’t bitter. He smiled only when he really meant it, and he meant it most of the time.

The downside was Aubrey’s personality. He was a wild and raucous teenager, not flamboyant, but very ‘excitable’ as the teachers phrased it. He did cartwheels down the hall when he felt like it, and swung right over the school swing set three or four times until the chain was so short he was in danger of beating his brains out on the bar.

I wasn’t sure how I felt about Aubrey. I had always known I was gay, I had just never considered a gay relationship a possibility until Aubrey came along.

Why shouldn’t I be interested? It’s not like I wasn’t attracted to girls; for a shy guy, I was incredibly popular. I guess it was my looks.

My hair is black, and it sweeps to the sides without being too long or too short. My eyes are a deep, dark gray. One, more poetically inclined female told me that my eyes look like the sea during a storm. My body is well proportioned, and I am fairly athletic, even though I hate sports more than anything.

Because of this, I was the subject of many freshmen’s crushes, front page news in all the latest gossip and the role model for most of the guys in my class. But even though I knew the girls well, liked some of them and even found comfort and friendship in a select few, I lived in dread of women.

So I thought I could give Aubrey a try.

Simply by existing he brought to the surface of my mind a list of possibilities, of temptations, of unexploited fantasies.

So I decided to ask him out.

I’ll admit, I’m not a very observant person; I’m even a little naïve, but even I could see it wasn’t going to be easy asking a guy- especially a guy like Aubrey- to go out with me.

‘Danny,’ I told myself, ‘this better not be something you’ll regret.’

I couldn’t understand it. I had stayed up for hours- all night almost- planning this out. I was going to get Aubrey away from my classmates. I was going to ask him out. I’d even reasoned out what I thought was the best class to do it in- gym, because it would be easier to single him out, and there was less chance of anyone overhearing. But I just stood there, my fingers digging into the basketball for support, my lower lip trembling.

We’d been warming up in the first five minutes of gym class, a basketball for nearly every person. Some were taking turns shooting at the hoops, others were simply dribbling, trying to get the ball from each other.

I followed Aubrey from a distance, waiting for the courage and the opportunity to approach him. He was dribbling the ball, shooting at each hoop as he passed. I was surprised that no one had noticed him playing; he was really good.

Then, for no apparent reason, he turned and looked over his shoulder. He was looking right at me, as though he had sensed that I was thinking about him.

I looked away and dribbled the basketball in my hand a few times to make it look as though I hadn’t noticed anything, but somehow, he wasn’t fooled.

He hoisted the ball over his head and hurled it in my direction, so that

I had to drop the ball in my hand to catch it, to avoid being hit. He came running over.

“Sorry about that!” he exclaimed. “Are you alright? Do you want something?”

I stood there, frozen to the spot, holding his ball in my hands. I was fully aware that this was the perfect opportunity to ask him out, but I was too afraid to say anything. My lip quivered; my hands shook.

Aubrey waited with other worldly patience, watching me with this sort of curious, concerned, and expectant expression on his face. It struck me suddenly that his eyes weren’t gray. They were a stunning deep, clear green color, that bordered on blue. He smiled widely at me, that friendly grin that made him look godly, if only for a few seconds, and my heart pounded.

“Don’t be afraid,” he said suddenly. “I don’t bite, you know.”

I found my breath and suddenly, my jaw unlocked. His assurance that everything would be okay calmed me. I recovered some of my dignity and forced myself to speak.

“Aubrey…”

“Yes?”

Damn that smile; I was getting tingly.

“You… You’re gay, right?”

The smile faded.

“Are you making fun of me?” he asked uncertainly.

Shit! I was scaring him away!

“No!” I said quickly, a bit too eagerly. “I was just… I was just…” Damn, damn, damn. Now what was I supposed to say?

“Curious?” Aubrey suggested helpfully.

“Yeah!” I agreed. “I mean, no… I mean…”

“Are you trying to ask me something?” Aubrey asked with a smirk.

I blushed deeply. Aubrey grinned wider, the devil.

“Your name’s Danny, right?” He asked. “Want to go out with me?”

There it was. Those few words that I was trying so hard to communicate to him, spoken back to me an instant after he had realized that it had been my intent. He had read my body language like a book, saw through me in seconds, made me feel secure, and then shook me to my core. I had never been so confused in my life. Wasn’t I supposed to be asking him out?

“Okay,” I said quietly, blushing intensely.

After that he simply took the ball from me, told me to meet him in the park, and was gone, leaving me a little disappointed and very bewildered.

My game was terrible that day; my mind was obviously elsewhere.

The final bell rang, and I went to my locker to get the books I would need to finish my homework.

A friend of mine named Dustin came over.

“Hey, Danny, what was up with you today?” he asked with a smile. “Your game was terrible.”

“I had a lot on my mind,” I explained slowly. “I’m sorry. I’ll do better next time.”

“Well, I don’t care, honest!” Dustin laughed. “I’m on the other team after all. Hey, do you… want to walk home with me? Maybe I’ll get lucky and some of your girl magnetism will rub off on me.” Dustin really does have a great laugh.

“I’m sorry,” I told him. “I’m busy today. Maybe Monday though.”

“Yeah? Don’t forget then,” Dustin said cheerfully as he walked away.

“Want to walk home with me?”

“I told you I’d walk home with you on…!” I marveled, turning around. There was Aubrey, having seemingly materialized out of thin air. I stared at him in astonishment. He had that dinosaur like grin on his face, and was watching me expectantly. He really did have the most beautiful green eyes imaginable.

I finally recovered some dignity.

“I thought we agreed to meet in the park?” I asked coolly, trying not to put the wrong exercise book in my backpack.

“Aw, details, details,” Aubrey said dismissively. “I thought you could come over to my house and play video games, among other things.” His eyes gleamed with unknown intent.

“Aubrey,” I scowled, my face turning violent shades of rose.

“You’re cute when you blush,” he informed me with a smile.

“I am? I mean, Aubrey, what if somebody hears you?”

“I see. You’re a shy guy, aren’t you?”

“I’m sorry,” I said sincerely. “Does it turn you off?”

“Not at all,” Aubrey assured me. “I think it’s sweet.”

“You’re a pretty open guy, aren’t you, Aubrey?” I asked, blushing some more.

Aubrey smiled at me then; not the huge, funny grin I was getting used to, but a seductive smirk that took my breath away. How? How could one person change so much in an instant? I was getting my first look at the other side of Aubrey, the side most people never knew existed.

His teeth flashed beneath his full, pink upper lip, and his green eyes narrowed, watching me like a tiger watching prey. His weight shifted to one foot, and his thumb gripped the side of his jeans suggestively. He was sexy.

“Come on,” he said, “You can walk home with me.”

He put his hand on the small of my back and led me to the exit. I glanced back, afraid that people were going to notice, but there was a fight going on at the end of the corridor, and all eyes were on that, fortunately.

“Wow,” Aubrey I said as we walked up his driveway, “your house is huge.”

“Aw, you should have seen our last house,” Aubrey retorted. “That was much bigger.”

“Well, compared to the other houses around here,’ I told him, “this could be a mansion.”

“It’s a mini-mansion,” Aubrey said brightly. I wasn’t sure if he was joking or not.

The house looked as nice on the inside as it did on the outside. It was well furnished and spacious, with lots of paintings and decorations.

The living room was done mostly in shades of brown, with an expensive leather sofa and matching arm chair.

I looked around, expecting to be introduced to Aubrey’s parents.

Aubrey watched me with a smile.

“You’re wondering where my mom and dad are?” he mused. “They’re away on business trips. They’re only home one or two nights a week.”

“Oh,” I said, unsure if this was a good or bad thing.

“They make a lot of money,” Aubrey informed me, leading me up the stairs, “But they’re never around, so I can do whatever I want.”

I followed him down the hall to his room door.

“Just put your bag on the floor anywhere,” he instructed me, opening it.

I complied, unsurprised to see that his room was a bit messy.

He seemed to know what I was thinking.

“When your parents are away as often as mine are, you only have to clean your room once a week.”

I marveled at the large TV and two video game consoles Aubrey had in his room. There was a computer, too, and a DVD player.

“I told you they make a lot of money,” Aubrey said proudly.

“Somehow I didn’t imagine you as the type of person who has a lot of money, Aubrey,” I admitted.

“It’s the clothes, right?” Aubrey laughed, pulling off the ridiculous orange vest. “I try to have a different style every year. This year I’m trying for a backwoodsman, lumberjack kind of look. Last year I went all Goth: black clothes, the lipstick and eye shadow, chokers, the works. I even died the tips of my hair black, and next year I’m going for a punk rock star type look.”

An image of Aubrey with a pink Mohawk and a leather fetish came to mind. I pushed it aside.

“But you must get really lonely when your parents are gone,” I said softly, turning away politely as Aubrey changed.

“Not for their company,” Aubrey scowled.

I could hear him wrestling with a pair of jeans.

“There, I’m done. You can look now. This is the way I usually dress when I’m at home.””

I turned around, pleased to see that Aubrey was semi-casually dressed in a white button up shirt, jeans, and odd socks. He had the shirt unbuttoned down to his chest, and the collar was up, the sleeves rolled back, but it was forgivable, even sort of cool.

“Well, what game do you want to play?” he asked, settling down by the TV and shifting though a mountain of video games.

“This one is okay,” I told him, picking out one I knew well from months of video game rentals.

“Cool,” Aubrey said agreeably, flicking on the PlayStation 2 and putting the game in. After a few seconds we started selecting characters.

“So,” Aubrey said after a moment, “I may be hitting a sensitive spot here, but what about your parents? I get the feeling that you had an unhappy childhood.”

“What gives you that idea?” I wondered, stiffening.

“The way you act. The way you look at people. You’re afraid of strangers, aren’t you Danny?”

I was quiet for a long moment, as we both started hitting buttons like crazy. Aubrey knew the game better than I did, and the battle was short-lived.

“I don’t think my father even knows I exist,” I explained, as ‘Round Two’ came up on the screen. Aubrey paused the game and turned to me. “My mother tried to kill me when I was four, and I’ve been shuffled from foster home to foster home ever since.”

“Shit, “ Aubrey breathed. “And I thought my mom was a bitch.”

I un-paused the game and caused Aubrey to be caught off guard. This time I beat him easily.

“You little cheater!” Aubrey laughed, bumping his head against my shoulder. “Time for Round Three!”

“I’m gonna beat you!” I declared, smirking. “I was going easy on you the first time.”

We played the video game until it started to get late. Then Aubrey’s mom called, and after chatting with her for a few minutes, he hung up the phone and waited. About five minutes later his dad called, and he seemed a lot more enthusiastic about that. I told him so when he got off the phone.

“I like my dad,” Aubrey explained. “He’s bisexual, so he’s a lot more understanding than my mom is. It’s weird. Mom’s a homophobe but she married a bisexual man.”

“What’s a homophobe?” I asked.

“You really are naïve. A homophobe is a person who is against same-sex relationships. Most of the guys at school are homophobes, and some of the girls. Didn’t you know that?”

“Yeah,” I said reproachfully. “I just didn’t know there was an actual term for it.”

“I’m thirsty,” Aubrey decided. “How about you? Is root beer okay?”

“Root beer’s fine,” I agreed.

“Cool. I’ll go get some. You can pick at any of the stuff in my room if you want.”

He headed downstairs, and I looked for a place to sit. The bed seemed neat enough, despite being a bit cluttered with junk.

I settled down, feeling strange being in someone else’s room by myself.

A photo album was open on Aubrey’s bed, and I glanced at it. My eyes widened. There was a picture there of a pretty girl lying stretched out on the leather sofa I’d seen in Aubrey’s living room, but the background behind her was different. It looked as though it had been taken in a different house. Even more surprising was the clothes she was wearing. She wasn’t wearing any. She was smiling sensuously.
On the opposite page was a picture of the same girl sitting on the floor, posing gracefully. I gulped deep in my throat, contemplating turning the page, praying that this wasn’t Aubrey’s mother or something, but Aubrey had said I could pick at his stuff and anyway, he was downstairs getting drinks.

I turned the page and caught my breath. This time there was a picture of a good-looking guy. He was naked and leaning back on the floor, his legs spread. On the other page was the same picture from a different angle. My head felt like there was a fly buzzing around inside it. Unwillingly I felt my pants grow tight.

“Lovely, aren’t they?” Aubrey asked, back with some snacks and drinks on a tray. He set it down in front of me and cuddled up behind me, his arm reaching around me to turn the page.

“Did you take these, Aubrey?” I asked, trying not to glance at the next two pictures.

“Yeah,” Aubrey said proudly. “I also sketch, sculpt, paint, and do charcoal drawings.” Whatever those were. “Want to see?”

Before I could say anything Aubrey reached under his bed and pulled out a sketchbook. He flipped it open to the middle and held it out to me.

There was a picture there of a girl playing volleyball in a bikini. All over the page were sketches of her from various angles, but the detail was flawless.

“I used to suck at art,” Aubrey informed me, “but then I found some willing models and my art really improved. The photos are mainly for reference, mainly being the key word here.”

He turned the page, and there was a beautiful drawing of a guy with his wrists tied to a bedpost by a silk scarf, his face turned to the side, his long lashes just barely scraping the pillow beneath his head. A thin sheet covered his lower body.

I felt myself get hot with desire and embarrassment. I don’t know why, but I wanted to be that guy. He looked like he was enjoying being tied to a bedpost, his body on display like the food they store behind the glass shelves at a restaurant, making you hungry for whatever was being displayed at the time.

“Aubrey,” I said quietly, “I thought you were gay?”

“I am,” Aubrey assured me.

“But there were pictures of girls there too.”

“Well, it doesn’t hurt to look, does it? What’s the matter? You don’t like girls?”

“I like girls,” I said quickly. “Most of the girls at school are really nice.”

“You’re talking about their personality,” Aubrey pointed out. “I’m talking about when it comes to actually doing something. When it comes to that, I’d much rather have a guy around.”

“Why’s that?”

“Oh, guys know what guys want,” Aubrey said carelessly. “I’m going to take a quick shower. Want to come?” he asked, almost innocently.

“Aubrey!” I breathed.

“Just checking,” he assured me. “But you know, you’re welcome to, just the same.”

He went in the bathroom that was connected to his room, leaving me flushed and embarrassed. I was suddenly aware that my pants were still bulging suspiciously from looking at that pictures. There was no way Aubrey could have missed that.

I listened to the water running in the bathroom, surprised that Aubrey had left the door open. Quietly I went and peaked inside.

Aubrey was still warming up the water, testing it with his wrist.

I went in and stood next to him uncertainly.

“Did you change your mind?” he wondered, staring down at me.

I bit my bottom lip to keep it from trembling.

“We’re not going to do anything, right?” I asked. “It’s just a shower?”

“Right,” Aubrey agreed with a smile. “You’ll get to keep your virginity.”

I decided not to embarrass myself by asking how he could tell.

“I’m scared,” I said softly, my voice almost drowned out by the sound of the water hitting the shower floor.

“Don’t worry,” Aubrey comforted me, taking me in his arms. “Nothing is going to happen.”

Shivering, I nodded, and allowed Aubrey to pull the shirt over my head. For one frightening second, I couldn’t see anything. Then the shirt was off and I felt exposed, unarmed. I tried not to tense up, and let my arms fall to my sides slowly.

Aubrey smiled softly and gently gripped my neck, running his hand slowly down my bare chest. My breath came out shakily, and I gripped his hips, desperately wanting to hold onto something.

Slowly, giving me plenty of time to back away if I wanted, Aubrey gripped my shoulders and pulled me closer, burying his face into the spot where my neck and shoulder met. He bit down gently, and I felt my skin crawl with delight. I breathed deeply, sharply, and my grip on his waist hardened.

“Aubreyyyy,” I moaned fearfully.

Aubrey pulled away, and I relaxed, a bit relieved and disappointed.

“Are you alright?” Aubrey asked.

I nodded, my face flushed. I could sense Aubrey hardening, could see it in the way he shifted his weight uncomfortably, but he ignored it.

“Do you want to continue?”

I hesitated, running over what had just happened in my mind. None of it seemed harmful, so I nodded, knowing what was coming next, willing it to happen.

Standing closer, Aubrey undid the button of my jeans, and then he firmly gripped the fly of my zipper. With a sudden purring sound, the zipper came open.

Studying my hips briefly, Aubrey gently jammed his hands down the sides and slid the works of it down. It fell to the floor with a soft thud, and I winced, closing my eyes.

Aubrey wrapped an arm around my neck, hugging me briefly, still with that same, very gentle, ‘not quite happening’ feeling.

“Are you still sure about this?” Aubrey asked.

“I’m okay,” I admitted, feeling sort of free now that the constrictive clothes were gone.

“Is it alright if I do this?” Aubrey moved his hand very slowly down my body, letting me know where he was heading. I said nothing, letting his fingertips brush their way through the tangle of tight curls, biting my lower lip as his hand gently slid around my cock. He stroked it softly, and it pounded, almost aching, but in a good way.

“Don’t stop,” I pleaded as he moved to pull his hand away. “It feels nice.”

Aubrey smiled at me, a bright smile that let me know he was enjoying this too, and he knelt down, getting on his knees slowly. His eyes never left mine as he guided my hands to rest on his shoulders and gently gave my thighs a lick.

A massive shudder went through me. My jaw actually shook

Another, long warm lick spread it’s way up the inner part of my leg, not quite touching anything, and then another worked it’s way closer, drawing nearer and nearer to the prize.

I marveled at the sight of somebody being down there, their brown hair almost brushing against my legs. Aubrey stared at my penis with intense interest, his mouth so close to my body I could feel his warm breath on it. I could tell what he was thinking, and it’s a strange feeling, knowing what someone wants, knowing it’s you.

“Any objections?” Aubrey wondered, looking up at me. I closed my eyes.

“No,” I decided. “Just a few seconds more; that’s all, okay?”

“Sounds good to me.”

Aubrey’s warm wet tongue swept it’s way over my raised cock, and he gave it a few tiny, experimentally licks that burned like fire. Then he stood up and began to undo his own shirt.

I sighed with relief, not that I hadn’t liked it, but I had been growing very anxious.

“You’re being very brave,” Aubrey assured me, letting his top slip to the bathroom floor. I was pretty pleased with myself, and allowed my eyes to sweep over Aubrey’s chest hungrily. For a guy who was considered a freak with freckles and a weird dress sense, Aubrey sure had a nice body. I remembered the way he had performed in gym class and decided it wasn’t odd.

“You can touch me where ever you like,” Aubrey said generously.

I lifted a hand hesitantly, and curiously touched one of the tiny freckles on Aubrey’s chest. They weren’t as numerous as they were across his nose, and were tiny, round, and brown.

“Do they turn you off or something?” Aubrey asked shame facedly, backing up against the wall and looking away.

“No,” I decided finally. “I think they’re sort of cute. I… want to…”

“Yes?”

“I want to lick one.”

Aubrey laughed good-naturedly, any doubts in his mind vanishing.

“Go ahead,” he told me.

“Aubrey, I couldn’t!” I said, frightened at the thought.

“It’s alright,” Aubrey said. “I won’t hurt you, and no one is going to know about this except the both of us.”

Still I drew back, until Aubrey reached out, and with steady hands he gripped the back of my head and pulled it close to his bare chest.

“It’s okay, see?” he assured me. “I’m not going to force you, but I do want you to give it a try. Will you try?”

I was quiet for a moment, sort of relieved that Aubrey had pulled me close instead of me having to make the first move. But I really did want to put my tongue out and taste one of those little brown freckles. Aubrey’s grip on my head softened, and he stroked my hair gently.

“Go on,” he breathed.

I was quiet for a long moment still, staring at the offered chest that was just an inch or two from my face, my hands on the wall behind Aubrey. I decided which one I wanted to lick and, quickly, before I lost my nerve, I moved closer and ran my tongue over Aubrey’s nipple.

Aubrey blinked as I drew back.

“I didn’t know I have a freckle there,” he said in surprise.

“Well you do,” I said softly, blushing pure scarlet.

“Hey, suddenly it’s a good thing,” Aubrey said with a smile. “I’m gonna take off my pants now. You okay with that?”

I nodded, feeling as though anything would have been okay at the moment. Nothing seemed to be out of bounds here. We were free, free to experiment, free to play, all at our own will, our own risk.

I could have asked him to make love to me, and that might have been fine. But did I really want to be that easy?

Aubrey stepped out of his pants legs and was there, naked, his cock as hard as mine, but a bit longer, I noted ruefully.

“I have very high testosterone levels,” Aubrey explained.

I couldn’t help but smile.

“Seriously,” Aubrey assured me. “My mind is always in the gutter. Sex is my sugar high.”

“But you said-“

“And I meant it. Nothing is going to happen. But it’s lots of fun, just the same.”

I was quiet for a moment, thinking.

“What if I wanted something to happen?” I asked, looking away with a smirk.

“I still wouldn’t do it.”

“Huh? Why?” I wondered, my eyes widening as I glanced back at Aubrey.

“Because you don’t want to. Not really anyway.”

“But I just said-“

“No,” Aubrey said firmly. “That was the moment talking, not you. You’d only regret it later if we did it now. I won’t let you do anything you’d regret. I want you to be safe with me, Danny. Don’t make it hard. Think of this as… a trial.”

“A trial?” I asked doubtfully.

“Yes. You have to promise me that you won’t ask me to do anything with you until you’re absolutely sure you’re ready. Do you promise?”

I stared at Aubrey for a long moment, pretty much sure now that we couldn’t just do it and never see each other again. He was right; I would have regretted doing something so rash with my body. He was asking for a relationship. But was I ready for that, either?

This morning I would have said no, but standing there before me now, leaning comfortably against the cool glass shower door, I could see the real Aubrey clearly. He was a guy full of unspent passion and desire. He was talented; he was sexy; he was honest and open and carefree. More than anything I wished I could be some of those things. I wanted a part of him, the biggest piece; I wanted to share myself with him, and for him to do the same with me, until we couldn’t tell the two of us apart. We could be one person.

“Okay,” I agreed finally.

“Excellent. Now get your sweet little ass in this shower before I come over there and break my promise.”

Smiling, I went over to him and got in first. The water was just right as he came in behind me, lukewarm to ease the sweat that had been released by my body.

“You’re not a virgin, are you, Aubrey?” I asked.

“Not quite,” Aubrey admitted, pouring a generous amount of body lotion in his hand and rubbing me down with it. I let him, feeling openly relieved and calm with his hands running along my sleek wet body.

The water fell like rain, and if I closed my eyes I could pretend that we really were outside, with the wild drops falling around us, staining our skin clean colors and removing all the bad things, the dirt and shame, fear and worthlessness. It all sank away like the sweat and circled the drain, sucked away by the warmth I felt, and through it all Aubrey’s hands were there, over my chest and back, down my thighs and even my butt, reassuring and steady.

For the sex-loving guy he claimed to be, he had perfect control. He didn’t exploit me, not once. On the contrary, I had never known just washing could be so pure, could feel so good. He did that until I’d had enough, and then he let me out and washed himself while I dried off.

I was amazed at how well he read my body language. I didn’t have to say anything; he knew just when he could push me and just when to slack off. He knew when I was impatient and when I wanted more.

I thought about it as I dressed and waited for him in his room. This was going to be an interesting relationship.

He came out, towel drying his hair, rubbing it furiously as though he had bugs in it or something.

“What are you doing?” I asked, sitting on his bed, my hair still damp and dripping, a towel around my neck to catch the loose droplets.

He looked at me in wonder.

“Drying my hair,” he told me.

“Don’t you have a blow dryer?” I asked, startled.

“My mom has one in her room.”

“I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if we used it,” I decided. “Couldn’t you go get it?”

“You want me to blow dry my hair?” Aubrey asked doubtfully, still holding the towel to his head as though he was going to start assaulting it again any second.

“It’s better than just messing it up like that,” I pointed out. “You’re going to make your hair messy.”

“My hair’s always messy. I like messy. Messy is me,” Aubrey declared.

“Don’t be stubborn,” I retorted, standing up. “I trusted you with my body just now. For sure you can trust me with your hair.”

Aubrey sighed, defeated.

“I’ll go get the blow dryer,” he huffed. “Gee, do we need the curler too?”

“No, we’ll save that for next week,” I laughed.

“Not funny,” Aubrey called as he walked down the hall. “I like straight hair.”

“It’ll be straight when I’m done with it,” I assured him, when he came back with the blow dryer in his hand. “You’re going to like it. Now sit.”

“Hm, that’s very forceful of you, Danny,” Aubrey mused with a smile. “I do like it.”

“I was talking about your hair, dumbass,” I snorted, shoving him down on his bed and plugging the blow dryer into the wall. “You really do like living in the gutter, don’t you?”

“The gutter is warm,” Aubrey informed me. “It is dry and cozy. It is my home. I am one with the gutter.”

“Shut up.”

I knelt in front of him and held the blow dryer close to his head, running a short comb through his hair swiftly, brushing the long brown locks back instead of to the sides, the way I’d been taught.

He sat there, watching me, his questioning green eyes never leaving my face except to catch a glimpse of what I was doing now and then. When he raised his eyebrows at me in a face, I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Do you want to get burned?” I demanded, holding up the dryer threateningly.

“No, master,” Aubrey said quietly, and I nearly dropped the thing in surprise.

“What did you call me?”

“Just the gutter talking.”

“Ah.” I finished up and sat back to admire my handiwork. Aubrey’s hair was soft and smooth. It would have taken handfuls of conditioner to make it shiny, but I thought it was an improvement anyway, and ran my hands through it, telling him so.

“Hey, if it gets me this kind of attention, I’m not going to complain,” Aubrey said with a smirk.

I finished drying my own hair as Aubrey pitched wholeheartedly into the snacks that we’d left, forgotten, on his bed.

I agreeably munched a few cookies that he offered me, taking them out of his hand with my teeth, my own hands busy with my hair.

Then I helped him move all the stuff off his bed and made it up nicely. He slipped under the covers and held his hand out for me to take. I slipped my palm in his and allowed myself to be pulled into bed beside him.

There I cuddled into his arms, happy to at last lay beside somebody. I buried my face into the silk of his shirt and sighed contentedly.

In minutes we were both breathing deeply, no thoughts as to anywhere else we’d rather be, our minds slipping in and out of the realm of dreams. At one point I glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand, but it read seven o’clock, and my curfew wasn’t until eleven.

I dreamt, sleeping more deeply than I had in a long time, Aubrey’s steady heartbeat throbbing beneath my outstretched hand, my head on his chest. I remember feeling warm and comforted. I remember feeling happier than I had ever been in my life.