Top and Tail [boyxboy] [slash]

Chapter 2: A Tense Silence

The characters are a bit different from what I'm used to in this story. I'm trying my hand at writing with characters who less resemble myself, and have, I don't know, more of a personality? *Shrugs* either way, I like writing from Ash's point of view =]. So, uh, if you see any mistakes, please point 'em out! And please vote/comment/review ;] Seriously, I really appreciate it. Cheers! =]

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Half an hour later I was sitting legs crossed on my carpet, still surrounded by a sea of clothes, CDs, and books. I wasn't a naturally tidy person, in fact I couldn't even remember the last time I had attempted to clean this bombsite. My mum had long since given up reprimanding me, especially after I showed her a rather bizarre website explaining that a teen's messy bedroom is part of the personality and personal growth and all that shit. 'Course she didn't swallow it, but she got the point. Resistance is futile.

"Ash? Have you cleaned your room yet?"

I glanced around at the small mountains of junk. "Can pigs fly yet?"

She ignored my comment and proceeded to climb up the stairs. I didn't even bother to jump up and pretend I was cleaning. Three thumps later my wooden door swung open with a deafening creak to reveal the tidal waves of junk.

My mother slapped a palm to her forehead. "Ash, what happened to 'tidy your room'? 'Tidy'!"

"Define 'tidy'," I joked, falling into my backup plan – sarcasm.

"Tidy as in you can see the floor."

I frowned and looked around the room. Sure, it was a bit untidy, but you could definitely see spots of grey carpet here and there. Still scowling, I shifted a few magazines away from her feet, clearing a small winding pathway that snaked around the more horrific piles.

"You can see the floor," I protested pointing at the ground.

"Yes, but can you walk on it?" she asked, raising one eyebrow. So she was going into total teacher mode then.

"Mum, I can promise you you'll make it out alive if you stick to the designated pathway."

Apparently she didn't want to waste her breath responding. Rolling her eyes, she exited the room, shooting me a small warning glare as she did so.

Whatever. Like I was going to actually clean up anyway. If this Jay guy was going to come and invade my personal space then I sure as hell wasn't going to go out of my way to welcome him. The box room already gave me a feeling of claustrophobia, never mind with the added baggage of another emotional teenage boy.

But his mum was sick...

I hated being guilted into stuff. I groaned, I pouted, and I complained to the walls, but I eventually got off my ass and started working on the room. First off, I picked up most of the laundry off the floor (and swept the rest under my bed) and dumped it just outside my bedroom door. Now that it wasn't in my room, it was no longer my responsibility... At least, that was the theory.

Twenty minutes, a lot of sweating and a little bit of grunting later, my bedroom looked reasonably ok. I stared around the room proudly. Even I was slightly impressed at how much the mess had improved. On a scale of one to ten, one being spotless and ten being a tornado just hit, the overall score would have been about a three. Or a four if you were picky...

The doorbell chimed throughout the house. Nervous, yet also strangely excited, I scampered down the stairs two at a time. Mum got to the door before I did though, and swung it back to hit my face.

"Ow! Jeez mum, watch it!" I complained, rubbing the aching bridge of my nose. As usual, she ignored me.

"Hello Jay. I'm Tracey, your Godmother. Come on in." A skinny wrist handed her a bulging suitcase which she handed to me. I stared at it. How long was this Jay guy planning to stay anyway? From the looks of his suitcase he was gonna be here for the next twelve years!