Like Gods

[22] morning light

Dylan stirred slowly and snuggled closer to the warmth beside him. He pulled the blanket farther up to his face, sighing into the soft material. His eyes were still heavy, so when he opened them, he didn't register what was in front of him at first.

When he did, though, he sat straight up in the bed. Shit shit shit shit shit. He stumbled out of the bed and looked around the room. His eyes found the wall clock. It was six-thirty. On Sunday.

Chris was still sleeping on the bed, an arm slung carelessly over his eyes and the other still laying where Dylan had had his head just a moment ago. They'd fallen asleep. It hadn't even been that late. After the movie, they'd gone upstairs. They'd talked. Kissed. Talked some more. And fallen asleep, the one thing that Dylan didn't want to do.

"Shit," Dylan hissed. Chris moved, stirring slightly. He opened his eyes slowly, his gaze finding Dylan. "Shit, sorry, I- I gotta go. My parents are going to kill me if I'm not at home when they wake up." 

Chris's lips formed into a sleepy smile. "I'll drive you." 

He sat up, scooching off the bed. 

"Sorry," Dylan repeated. "Mom has induced a partial-grounding while my brother's in town and-" 

He was cut off by a soft kiss. Sighing into it, he let his hands rest on Chris's shoulders. 

"It's alright, come on," Chris said as he pulled away, still close enough that Dylan felt his breath on his nose. They pulled apart, Chris starting to walk toward the door. Dylan followed down the stairs and grabbed his jacket where it hung on the wall.

Dylan opened the front door, taking a breath of the crisp morning air. The bad weather had still not returned and the sun had started to rise, making the sky a red-ish purple above the houses. 

Chris walked in front, passing him in the doorway and continued down the path to his car. Dylan shook himself out of the tiredness that lingered from the night and followed the other boy. 

"Do you remember the address?" Dylan asked as he closed the car door. Chris raised an eyebrow.

"I picked you up from there yesterday, if I didn't remember then there would be something very wrong." 

"That's true," he smiled. 

A few minutes later, way too few minutes in Dylan's opinion, Chris slowed the car and stopped outside Dylan's house.

"Thank you. For the ride. For yesterday," Dylan stretched over the gear shift, letting their lips meet. Chris placed a hand on the back of Dylan's head, pulling him closer still. After a moment, Dylan pulled away with a grin.

"I'll see you at school," Chris returned the smile and Dylan opened the passenger door and got out.

He stood and watched for a minute as Chris drove away, breathing slowly as to try and calm his racing heart. His face burned as he reminded himself of the day prior and the butterflies seemed to have no plan on leaving any time soon.

The front door was already unlocked and he thanked the stars for that. Even the dull thud of the door closing behind him made him cringe and hope that no one was awake already. It was just after eight, but the house seemed too quiet for anyone the be awake.

He crept up the stairs, careful as to not step on the creaking plank halfway up.

Before going to his room, he turned toward the bathroom. He closed the door as softly as he could and turned the light on. Once again, for the hundredth time, his thoughts were: shit. 

While most of the deep-purple marks were at the base of his throat and neck, some reached all the way up to his jaw. Damn that Chris. It appeared to be a turtleneck-day today.