Chapter 15

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As I've already told you, the night Brendon almost got raped was what it took to change my focus from myself a bit again.

And that's the way it stayed for almost two weeks. I pushed my own confusion and unsolved mess of a mind in the background and focused on him. I spent almost all my time with him and he kept crawling into my bunk every night, craving whatever closeness I had to offer.

Odd as it may sound, we barely talked to each other. We sat in silence and generally he either had his head on my shoulder or his arms around me. Even when we walked places, he tended to hold my hand as much as possible as if I - we've already discussed my physique, right? - would be able to protect him from the world.

Once again I allowed it all. How could I deny him those little things?

Don't think this time was easy for me, though. The physical attraction to Brendon was getting stronger with every minute and the fact that he needed almost constant touching didn't make it easier.

I had to excuse myself to the bathroom quite a few times, and thankfully I was a quick learner, and it didn't take long to find techniques to help me keep down the volume.

I made it a habit to sleep in long-sleeves to have as little skin-to-skin contact as possible. Sleeping on the bus, two people squished together in one bunk and wearing a long-sleeve is fucking warm, I'll tell you that. But whenever I woke up with my whole body covered in a light sheen of sweat I had an excuse at least.

I tried not to sleep because Brendon always tossed and turned and that sometimes made us end up in uncomfortable - or highly comfortable, depending on your point of view - positions. I was so afraid that he would wake up to find us pressed against each other and with my boner digging into his thigh or stomach that I did whatever I could to stay aweke enough to push him a few inches away when he rolled over in his sleep and came too close for my liking.

I never checked if he faced the same problems I did. Somehow knowing for sure that I was doing things to him as well would have made it all even more awkward.

I don't think he noticed anything. And if he did, he never mentioned it, for which I was very grateful.

He became better with each passing day, though. At first agonizingly slowly but it accellerated and the first night I deemed he'd be okay left with Spencer, Brent and everybody else I left with Matt again, somehow needing his precence and random advise more than ever.

******

We'd found a booth again since I'd taken a definite liking to the fact that not as many people could see me when there.

Matt was next to me, as usual, and was nursing a Gin and Tonic, as usual.

I was sipping my Pepsi and huffing off my cig, once and twice again, as usual.

I liked the fact that although it had been close to two weeks since the last time Matt took me out and it was in bar I'd never been to before, it was still a familiar situation. Homey, almost.

"So..." the older guitarist asked me, raising an eyebrow. More to start a conversation than to actually ask me anything, I decided.

"I've missed hanging out with you," I told him with a small smile.

"I've missed having you out with me," he countered. "When you're around I always feel incredibly intelligent," he added with a chaffing smile.

I scowled playfully at him, rolling my eyes a bit. "And I feel incredibly young," I admitted.

"You are," he confirmed, laughing now before taking a mouthful of his drink. "So... What's been going on since the last time we were out?"

I raised my eyebrows in shock. How could he not know?

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