Chapter XIV - Sleepover (Part 1)

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I hop up from the dining chair I was lounging in as soon as I see Gabe's car pull in front of my house. I pick up my backpack - which is incredibly light, holding only a toothbrush, a change of clothes, and my meds - and make my way to the front door.

"Bye, Mom!" I yell, receiving only silence from her closed bedroom. She's been oddly absent as of late. As soon as I reach for the doorknob, Gabe knocks quietly as though he's nervous. I open the door to him. He's standing a few feet back on the porch, wearing baggy black jeans and a tight band tee - his typical attire.

"Hey, Jake," he greets me, glancing above my head. "Is your mom here?"

"Hey! And no, she's not here. Or I mean, she not not here, but like, you know," I answer him, not understanding what just came out of my mouth.

"Ok, cool, because I was going to kiss you, but I didn't want your mom to jump out from a corner and attack me."

"She's not really the jumping-out-of-a-corner-attacking type, so I think you're safe." Gabe smiles at me, leans down slightly, and kisses me. I feel my body tingle with excitement.

"You ready to go, pretty boy?" Gabe wraps his hand around mine and I follow him to his car. "Hope you're excited for a sweet ride in my Toyota Camry."

"Wow," I say as Gabe opens the passenger door for me. "So fancy!" I exclaim.

"I know, I know. I'm completely loaded if you can't tell."

"It's nicer than my car. I hit a lamppost in the Walmart parking lot one week after I got my license and never got it repaired. I also accidentally left my back window open the singular time I went to a car wash, and now the seats are stained a muddy rainbow color."

"I need to see that," Gabe laughs. "Well," he says, putting the car into drive, "I promise not to hit any lampposts on the way. So far, the only thing I've hit is a squirrel. I did cry afterward though. I think she was pregnant."

"How would you know that it was pregnant? Were you looking at its stomach instead of the road?"

"No, I just felt it in my heart, you know? She was a motherly squirrel." I giggle, imagining Gabe mourning a squirrel that he decided was pregnant. I've hit at least three squirrels, but they all had death wishes. I choose not to tell Gabe that, though.

"So, what do you have planned for our sleepover?" I ask Gabe as he turns out of my neighborhood.

"It's going to be everything you ever dreamed of! I've got a frozen pizza, candy from the dollar store, Coke and Coke Zero because I wasn't sure which kind you liked, and a movie picked out." I smile, flattered that Gabe cared enough to do all that stuff for me. He's the only person who's ever put much effort into making me feel special.

"I really like you, Gabe."

"Good, 'cause I'm not sharing pizza with someone who hates me." He pulls up to a red light and turns to me. "I really like you too, Jake."

...

I look around Gabe's room as I sit on his bed. I didn't take the time to absorb any details last time because I was distracted by, you know, Gabe. The walls are covered with band posters (The Neighbourhood, Hole, and Nirvana, from what I can see), framed certificates, shelves with books and trophies, and Polaroid photos held in place with thumbtacks.

The floor is mostly empty, aside from a small pile of dirty clothes and dumbbells in one corner. Gabe comes back to the room, holding 2-liter bottles of Coke and Coke Zero and an armful of packaged candy. He dumps the assortment of brightly-colored bags next to my left and sets the soda on his overcrowded nightstand. Finally, he sits on my right and reaches for my hand, interlocking our fingers, and kisses my cheek. I feel my lips lift up into a smile.

"You're pretty," Gabe tells me, his voice soft yet husky.

"Thank you," I whisper, scooting closer and resting my head on his shoulder. Gabe leans back so he's flat on the bed and pulls me with him. We lay on our sides, lips only a few inches apart from one another's. Gabe looks into my eyes and grins. He runs his hand through my hair, not breaking eye contact.

"I can't believe you're my boyfriend," he says. "You're so perfect in every way."

"No one's ever said that to me, Gabe."

"I guess a lot of people are stupid then, huh?" He leans forward and lightly kisses my lips. I wrap my arms around his torso and bring him back in, and he kisses me harder. I roll over, knocking a few candy bags off the bed and taking Gabe with me. I feel his hard dick rubbing against mine as we make out.

I love the way Gabe kisses me. He presses his lips against mine, softly at first, leading me into the kiss, and then harder. He manages to be firm yet gentle. I feel so safe under his weight.

We make out until we're both out of breath. Gabe moves off of me onto his side. "You're such a good kisser, Jake."

"I highly doubt that," I laugh, moving my hand along Gabe's muscled back. "I let you do all the work. I guess I'm kind of a pillow princess."

"I don't mind that," he says. "You hungry?"

"Oh, yeah, kind of."

"I'll throw the pizza in the oven, and then we can watch a movie if that's cool."

"Sounds perfect," I tell him. "Do you want me to come with you?"

"Might want to let that settle down before you walk out of here," Gabe teases, gesturing at my crotch. I feel my face warm with a blush.

"You're probably right, but I could say the same to you," I mirror his gesture, and he looks down at his jeans.

"Motherfucker. Touché, Jake."

...

Gabe walks back in, holding two plates, each filled with four slices of pizza. It's the nice kind with the thick crust, not the sad kind my mom buys from Walmart. "Ok," Gabe starts, "so there's something wrong with the oven, and I'm too technologically inept to understand it. Anyway, half of the pizza burned a little, and half didn't cook all the way through. Do you want the burnt slices or the undercooked ones? Or I could make another pizza, but the same thing will probably happen."

"The undercooked half sounds amazing," I answer, "only if you're ok with the burnt half, though."

"Oh, awesome, I wanted the burnt half. Burnt pizza is objectively the best kind."

"Sure it is."

"It is!" Gabe protests. "Enjoy your soggy dough. At least mine's crispy." Gabe sets the plates on his nightstand, carefully moving the Coke bottles so they don't fall. He then undoes his belt before looking up at me. "Would it bother you if I take off my pants? I can put shorts on. I just don't want to lay in bed with jeans on."

"Doesn't bother me at all," I assure him. "I mean, you can take off your shirt, too, while you're at it. If you want to," I add.

"I don't know, man," he says. "That seems kind of gay."

"You think that's gay? You want to see gay?" I stand up from the bed and kiss Gabe.

"You call that a kiss?" He asks, feigning indifference.

"Oh, fuck you." I wrap my right hand around the nape of Gabe's neck and kiss him harder. He leans into the kiss, returning my force. After a few seconds, I pull away and give him my best smug Gabe West look.

"I thought you said you weren't a good kisser."

"Well, I'll take that back."

He smiles at me. "I like it when you're not nervous around me."

"I like it too." Gabe finally drops his pants and then takes off his shirt. He hops down onto the bed, half-naked now, knocking off a few more bags of candy. I try not to stare at his package through his purple boxer briefs.

"Have I got to be the only one without pants on?" He questions. I shake my head, obliging and taking off my jeans. I opt to leave my T-shirt on, and Gabe doesn't question it, which I appreciate. "Now, c'mere," he says, opening up his arms. I fall back, letting Gabe catch me. He squeezes me as he rolls back and then kisses me on the cheek. "We're gonna have fun tonight, huh?"

"Fuck yeah, we are."

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