Lockers and Boxers (boyxboy)

Chapter XIII - Tomorrow

"Really?" I ask, wondering how far he'll take it.

"Really," he assures me. "You're thinking about..." he scans my face through the water. "About what would happen if my phone slipped just a little, and how you'd be able to see below my waist-"

"Very presumptuous of you, Gabe," I cut him off, enjoying the teasing more than I expected.

"Oh yeah? Well, was I right?"

"Maybe," I admit, not willing to fully concede.

"Hmm, I think I'll take that as a yes." Gabe steps under the shower head, letting the water wash the soap from his body. He reaches forward, and the water slows to a trickle before ceasing completely. He grabs his phone, the screen facing the ceiling, and sets it back on the counter as he reaches for a towel.

"So," he starts, picking up the phone and walking out of the bathroom, "you up for a sleepover tomorrow?"

"That depends. What'll we be doing at the sleepover?"

"I think you know, Jake."

"Oh, do I? Well, go ahead and read my mind again. Tell me what I know." I hope Gabe doesn't think I'm being too difficult because I like making him work a little.

"I was thinking we could do what you want, pretty boy." My face must be so red – and I love it. Gabe readjusts his camera so that I can see him again. He's sitting on his bed and only wearing plaid pajama bottoms. I can see the slight outline of his bulge through them.

"I'll have to ask my mom if I can go," I tell him, feeling like I'm in elementary school again. "I'll be right back." I might as well figure out if my mom will even let me go out before I get too excited because fuck am I excited!

My mother hasn't made an appearance in a few days, but her car's out front, so I'd imagine that she's home. I quietly knock on her door and then louder when she doesn't answer. "Mom?" I call out.

"You can come in, honey," she answers. I twist the knob and step into the dark room.

"Sorry if I woke you up. I didn't think you'd be asleep already."

"Oh, I wasn't asleep." She sounds exhausted, as though she hasn't slept in days. "My psychiatrist prescribed me new meds, and they've been doing a number on me."

"Are you feeling ok?" I ask, even though the answer is pretty evident.

"I have a terrible migraine, and I can't sleep for the life of me, but I'll be fine. Did you need something?"

"I was just wondering if I could go over to my friend's tomorrow for a sleepover. I know you worry, but-"

"Yes, you can, as long as you check in with me. Don't do anything too crazy. When I was your age, I once went over to my friend Stacy's house, and we drank her mom's wine and started running around the attic, but Stacy stepped into the fiberglass and had to go to the hospital."

"Um, ok, I will update you." I'm not sure what I'm supposed to get from that story, but I doubt that Gabe or I will be jumping into any fiberglass. "I promise to not get drunk and run around in attics," I assure her.

"Alright, good night, Jake."

"Good night," I say, softly closing the door before returning to my room. When I make it back to my phone, I see Gabe, half-naked on my screen. He's wearing green boxers and has a book on his lap that he's bearing down on as he writes.

"What'd she say?" He asks, looking up from whatever he's writing.

"She said yes, believe it or not!"

"Thank god," Gabe says, moving the book off his thighs, which reveals his bulge.

Tomorrow, I remind myself. Right after school, I'll go to his house, and he'll take me to his room. He'll lay down on the bed, and I'll scoot in next to him, and my face will be right there.

"Jake?"

"Oh, sorry, what?" He smirks at me, that stupid, cute-as-fuck smirk that makes me want to kiss him so hard.

"You zoned out there for a second. I asked if you wanted me to pick you up from your house after school tomorrow."

"Yeah, that sounds good. What should I bring?"

"Just yourself should be good. Oh, and a toothbrush. Yourself and a toothbrush."

"I won't need a blanket?" I try to recall the last time I had a sleepover. Is that what you call it still? Is it a sleepover if you're 17 and it's your secret boyfriend's house?

"I'll keep you warm, pretty boy."

"Ok, but I'm holding you to that promise. I better not get cold."

"Oh, you won't."

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