Book I: to cross oceans for [BxB] (trans) - completed

Next Door Neighbour - Sean

I knocked on Danny's door and waited. The hollow sound echoed through the house as the precious minutes we really couldn't afford to lose trickled by.

The odds of Danny or his mother being up were slim to none. But part off me still hoped I'd be spared having to climb up his window again.

The generic wooden door most of the houses on our street had been built with stayed unopened. Mocking my unanswered knocks.

Okay, so maybe not mocking. But the house behind it was quiet. I sighed and knocked twice more, just to be sure. The sound echoed again and I cringed.

Without waiting to see if a response would come before we were both in detention for being late - yet again - I climbed down the creaky porch steps and rounded the house.

The houses on our street were built in twos. It had been the architects brilliant idea to make them mirror images of each other. In theory it was supposed to be this innovative concept. At least back in the 90's, when they'd been built. In reality, it meant Danny's room didn't face mine.
If it had, I could've just thrown something on his head to wake him up from the comfort of my own room. Instead, I found myself using what little upper body strength I possessed to climb onto the window sill and keep myself from falling back down and spraining something. And that was a best case scenario.

"Or breaking a ribcage or two." I huffed, holding on to that one slim piece of wood keeping me from colliding with the hard cold ground.

The curtains were closed so I pushed the glass up, opening it enough to push the fabric aside and peek into his room. A cold gust of wind helped and I had a brief glimpse of Danny's rumpled bed and what looked like a still lump on top of it.

"No rest for the wicked." I grumbled, opening the window and using my body weight to propel myself face first onto his less than pristine carpet.

I straightened and untangled my backpack from my limbs, setting it on the floor underneath his window.

The familiar musty scent of unwashed clothes, smoke, sweat and booze assaulted my nostrils but I ignored it. I was so used to it that it was the scent I most associated with Danny. More even than his own cologne.

Actually, come to think of it, I couldn't remember the last time he'd worn cologne.

I walked over to his bed and sighed at his still form, sprawled on his stomach. He was wearing only boxer briefs and the left side of his body was hanging off of the bed, his fingers curled on the carpet fibers. He was drooling from his slightly parted lips, creating a small dark spot in front of his mouth.

"Lovely." I muttered and crouched in front of him.

And then used all my willpower to keep my eyes on his face. Not matter how badly they wanted to stray over his lean muscular body. I mean, his ass was right there. Up in the air, just begging me to ogle it.

I'd seen Danny in all manner and stages of undress. Hell , for a solid year when we were kids he refused to shower unless I joined him. Though, I supposed his naked body did look a lot different now than it did ten years ago.

Back then we were all gloriously androgynous and gender was but an afterthought in my mind.

A fading purple bruise on his ribcage caught my attention. He'd probably gotten it during last week's game. Or fighting. It was always a toss up with Danny wether his scrapes and bruises were a result of one of his baseball games or because he'd gotten riled up to the point of imprinting his fists into someone else's flesh.

I traced the yellowish outline of the bruise with as much gentleness as I could muster, unable to stop myself. He stirred, his fingers opening and closing around the carpet fibers. But didn't wake up.