Chapter 55

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Mike

"Do you want some?" Jay asked, walking into the room, holding a plate of popcorn chicken. I took one from the plate and popped it into my mouth.

"So I saw Chester today."

I almost choked, "What?" He sat on the edge of my bed.

"He looks terrible. He told me he's trying to get by, but he still looks really sick."

"It's the withdrawal. He's still trying to adjust."

"Oh," Jason muttered. I looked back down at my sketch pad. All I've been doing is drawing him. I had already had the outlines done and all the simple stuff, but I just couldn't remember the small details anymore. Sighing, I closed the book and tossed it to the floor.

"Come on man, just another five weeks and you'll see him. Just gotta hang in there," Jay said softly as he got up and left the room.

***
I was bored. Simple as that. Not even videogames or drawing entertained me during the day. I wanted to hang out with the guys again, and with Chester. I sigh and grab my pillow, hugging it. My mind was clouded with sleep as I yawned. I didn't feel like sleeping just yet.

The room was dark. I rolled over on my side, clutching my pillow. Everyone was probably asleep. It was late. Maybe I could...

I cupped myself and bit my lip. Rolling onto my back, I firmly pressed my palm against my hardening length. I thought about Chester. How hot he is in bed. His moans...

I groaned and pulled my cock out of my boxers. I moaned softly and stroked myself. All I could think of was him and how he felt around me. I bit my lip and bucked into my hand. "Fuck..."I gasped out.

My hand was slick with pre-come, my pants and soft moans echoing in the room.

***

"Moooooooom," I called from my room.

"What?" she yelled back.

"Is the food ready?" It was quiet, except for her stomping up the stairs.

"When will you get out of this room?"

"When I feel like it," I said, burying my face into my pillow. She frowned and walked back out. I heard dad asking what was going on in a hushed voice.

"All he ever does is sit around in his room all day."

"Give the boy a break, he misses his friends."

"No. He just misses that boy!" She hissed. I sighed and reached out to turn on my music. I rested my head against my arm and stared at the ceiling. I didn't know why, but my mom was suddenly getting bothered that I'm with Chester. Maybe she thought he was a bad influence? Who knows....

After a while I turned to look at the window. The curtains we're closed, making the room dark. I really didn't know what time it was. All I did was sleep when I couldn't keep I my eyes open.

I stood up and stretched. I walked to the door and stomped down the stairs. My mom was at the stove, cooking. I went to the pantry and took an unopened bag of chips and a can of soda from the fridge.

"Wait until dinners-" mom began, but she stopped when dad gave her a warning glare. I walked out of the kitchen and sat at the stairs.

"Hon, he's depressed."

"He is not. He's just being over dramatic."

"He wants out. He wants his friends-"

"Muto! Enough! All he wants is to be with that--that boy, Chester!"

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