Part seventeen

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Jack P.O.V.

"You didn't sleep again last night, did you?" I asked Dean who had his head face down on the desk. He leaned back in his chair and shook his head.

"Well, yes, sort of, I got an hour," he said shrugging.

"You're going to get ill if you don't sleep."

"Still won't be any worse than my sister," he muttered. He went back to putting his head on the desk and I did him the favour of starting the work so he could rest and copy off me later.

"Coming to mine after school?" I heard a muffled 'yeah' and left him alone until we had ten minutes until the end of the lesson where I shook him lightly to receive a groan in response. "Wake up Dean; you need to copy my work."

"Just one more minute," he whined.

"I'll start it for you..." I slid his workbook out under his crossed arms, surprised to see it was still in pristine condition.

"No, no, I'll do it," Dean flipped his book open and sighed. "Thanks," his handwriting that he always tried to keep neat was sloppier than usual with a lack of care about how it was presented. When he had replicated half the work onto his pages, he closed it shut again but kept his eyes down on the table.

"When do you get the results from yesterday?"

"Tomorrow maybe, they said it depends on how serious it is. Scarlett comes home today since she spent last night in hospital, but I was up all night with Dan again, he had a nightmare and couldn't get back to sleep after. I woke up to him screaming, it was horrible..." he shuddered and hugged himself.

"Do you want to skip the rest of school?"

"I don't know..."

"We'll only miss one lesson, we'll just sneak out. It's easy - people do it all the time."

"Okay," he shrugged. We packed our things away and left the classroom together when the lesson ended, walking the front entrance and back to my house without any problems. I was glad I had the idea to miss our last period because Dean was at the point of exhaustion, and the whole idea of getting him round my house was so that he could just sleep and the longer he could sleep, the better.

"Do you want to eat or anything?" I asked when I unlocked the door and let us in. Dean shook his head when I looked at him for his response and clung to me instead, his arms around me. I helped him up to my room. "Bed?" I felt him nod and we dumped our bags and shoes by the door before crawling underneath the covers. I lay on my back and Dean rested his head on my chest and put an arm across my stomach while I put mine around his shoulders.

"Don't let me sleep too long, Jack," he mumbled.

"I won't, I'll wake up you up at six, just sleep Dean," I didn't have to tell him twice - his exhausted self was out like a light within seconds and I felt his deep breaths against my neck. I set an alarm on my phone in case I drifted off myself, but I wanted to stay conscious for as long as I could. My brain wasn't going to let me rest anyway, since my worry about my sexuality took over my mind whenever it could.

With a boy snuggled up into me, it was the perfect chance for the thoughts to attack me, but this time, but they were more frantic and urgent. I could no longer deal with the war in my head that seemed to be never-ending, one moment I could be perfectly okay with the idea of me being gay then the next I denied all evidence that I was.

For a while I couldn't work out why I was so against liking guys, but the reason came to light when one night my parents talked about their disgust for gay couples and homosexuals over dinner which made me think about everything I had done with Dean and how horrified they would be if they knew. The fear of them somehow being able to read my mind and finding out in that minute terrified me to the point where my head began to spin and I ran to bathroom to be sick.

My head shut up for the moment so my heart could speak for me when I began to think about what I was feeling for Dean, and I knew there was no doubt that I was in love with him, but the fear of being disowned and kicked out the house was the reason I couldn't be gay.

When I could leave home, that was when I could be whoever I wanted to be and not have to worry about their opinions. When I could leave home, that was when I could love Dean regardless, but would he be willing to wait out that long, even if he did love me back?

I looked at Dean who was totally out of it, completely unaware of what was going on in my head. How could anyone as fragile as Dean like me back anyway? Maybe I was just trying to find excuses to avoid telling him how I really felt, after all, he did actively encourage the affectionate part of our relationship, and he enjoyed it as much as I did. 

My eyes trailed down to his pale lips that had lost colour and I found myself wanting to kiss him to see how it felt, wanting to see if I really was gay and if I could love Dean without caring about what everyone else thought, but this was Dean and I didn't want to risk everything I had with him, so I silently scolded myself and stared up at the ceiling, deciding not to punish myself for loving how Dean fitted into me. 

Some hours later, I turned my head towards the window so I could watch the January sun that was beginning to set. It was just past 4 in the afternoon, and I felt Dean shuffle next to me. 

"No... Stay in here, go to bed... Dan... Dan's downstairs..." Dean mumbled.

"Dean?"

"He can't see I'm scared, he can't see I'm scared... No! No! Not Dan! Hit me instead!" He grabbed a fistful of my shirt and started crying. "It hurts... make it stop... make it stop... I'm sorry... Run, Dan!" 

"Dean?!" 

"There's blood... so much blood... I'm going to die here... No... No!" He cried harder and I began to shake him while he kept mumbling. Eventually his eyes flew open and he jumped and sat up, his breathing still fast and he was trembling. 

"Dean?" I sat up next to him and put a hand on his shoulder where he flinched and looked up at me, his eyes wide with fear as the tears still fell down his face. "Dean, it's okay, you're safe here, you're with me," he froze for a moment but shakily opened his arms and I pulled him into me where he hugged me tightly. 

"Help me forget Jack," he sobbed, burying his face in my chest, staining my shirt with tears. 

And so I did the only thing that made sense at the time, by lifting his head and staring into those gorgeous eyes once more before pressing our lips together. 

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