• Three in the ******** morning and he was caught with a case of the munchies. ‘s**t. Get high two ******** hours earlier, fall asleep and wake to this bullshit?’ Doing drugs indeed had repercussions, but, if Jacoby couldn’t spell it, it didn’t honestly matter. Groaning, he stumbled out of the makeshift bed on the couch and stood there, cold air teasing his bare chest to the point where he wanted to crawl back under the covers and sleep the urge off. He stood there, staring in the dark – mapping out his route through the apartment. As he could see, not to far off, there was a soft, tiny glow.

    The night-light used as a marker for occasions such as this. Of course, nothing ever went out as Jacoby wanted. First, he crashed into a lamp. Stepped on Byron’s cat and got brutally scratched up. Just before he reached the kitchen, Jacoby managed to even hit the door frame. “******** aye!” He swore loudly, quickly covering his mouth and looking around in the dark, acting as though he could really see. There was only silence. In spite of the noise, Byron had not stirred from his deep, Xanax-induced sleep.

    Groping around like a blind-fool, Jacoby managed to find the light-switch with no altercations whatsoever. Well, minus him nearly getting blinded by the brightness. Well, it never works completely for him anyway. Groggy, he padded lightly across the white tile towards the stainless-steel fridge, which, much to his irritation, was empty except for a slice of ‘god-knows-what’ pizza from ‘ye-long-ago’, a bottle of white wine that was ¾ empty and two little pieces of dark chocolate, still wrapped in the foil. Licking his chapped lips, Jacoby pulled the little pieces of sweets from the shelf and carried them to the glass table, where, he sat down in his usual manner.

    Knees hugged to his chest. One piece of chocolate devoured already and the munchies still persisted.

    Tiredly, Jacoby picked up the last piece of chocolate and brought it to his mouth, nibbling it a little. In the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the lanky, tan and hairy roommate of his namely Byron, opening the fridge then slamming it shut. “Who the ******** ate my chocolate?” He growled. There was ‘whoosh’ of wind, and Jacoby caught scent of the Phoenix Axe his partner always wore. With a piece still in his mouth, he looked up at him, dark eyes shining and lied. “I don’t ********’ know.” Byron’s line of vision focused on the little piece in his mouth and he growled in a feral manner. Blatant lie. “You son of a b***h. That’s my ******** chocolate.” Jacoby smirked, taking the half-eaten piece from his mouth and waving it in front of the boy’s face in a slow, teasing manner. There was that look in his eyes. The look that only the munchies can give someone. But, Jacoby paid no mind and popped it back into his mouth, ¼ of it still sticking out for Byron to see.

    “b***h.” Was all he heard before he was lifted up by a sudden, brutally strong force and shoved against the counter, the wind nearly knocked out of him, as well as the chocolate. Jacoby threw his hands up in defeat. “Okay! I’m Sorry! I’ll buy you some new chocolate! s**t,man…” It was Byron’s turn to smirk, and damn, the way he did it made Jacoby so ******** nervous. “I don’t want new chocolate, Lil’ Man.” He replied, using the degrading name everyone had given him back in the so called ‘era’ of the ‘pool rats’. Jacoby growled, patience wearing thin. “What the ******** you want then? You aint getting this piece.” He snapped, remembering just suddenly he had it in his mouth still. “That’s alright. I’ll just take it for myself then.” Byron lunged at Jacoby, trapping him completely, and locking his lips between his. Tiny little Jacoby was caught so off-guard by his supposedly straight friend’s act, he failed himself and gasped, letting the chocolate loose and, unwillingly, surrendering it to Byron.

    He let back a little, so that their foreheads were touching. “Thanks for the chocolate, b***h.” And, then, he left Jacoby to himself. Confused, hungry and, though he’d never admit it, quite horny, too be exact. “I need a shower…” Jacoby muttered, pushing himself off the counter and stumbling around until he found the bathroom. He stepped in and turned it on to the fullest extent of scalding. Within seconds, the room was filled with steam, Jacoby’s skin a raw red as he stood underneath the stream.

    He ignored the burning and tried to focus on the situation at hand and his very feelings on it.

    Later that night, well, morning, Jacoby sat upright on the couch, thinking still about that damned kiss he’d gotten from that so-called friend of his. “It was only for the chocolate...” He kept trying to tell himself, make himself believe there were no feelings between the two other than rivalry and friendship. Oh, but, who was he fooling? Most certainly not himself. Four in the morning and there’s no way he’d be able to get back to sleep without proving something, doing something about this situation. Quietly, without stepping on Mittens or running into a lamp, something other of value or anything like that, Jacoby made his way to Byron’s room. Through the shut door, he still could hear the blare of the television – drag races and swearing from the other end. Gently, he pushed it open, not bothering to knock. After all, Byron would be too deep in sleep to hear it anyways. Cold air rushed out the door, causing the shirtless Jacoby to shiver. “Byron.” He whispered harshly, tiptoeing across the surprisingly clean room to the boy tangled within the red and blue sheets. “I’ll have tea with it, Mistah President…” Mumbled Byron, rolling over and hitting the wall with a painful sounding crack.

    Jacoby winced, yet, the boy was not woken. Someone apparently tied a rock to him when he fell into the sea of dreams and whatnot.

    The springs creaked in protest beneath him as he sat down on the edge of the bed, next to Byron, only staring. Ironically, in the background, Poison, an 80s song by Alice Cooper decided to play to the fullest extent. “I wanna love you but I better not touch (Don’t touch). I wanna hold you but my senses tell me to stop...” Byron bit his lip. Stupid television, tempting and teasing him whilst he was beside his object of affection… ‘Wait…Did I just admit that to myself?’ Jacoby gulped and leaned beside the sleeping boy. Now or never – there’s no other time in the world where Byron’s going to do this awake and call him a gay a** ***** -- after all, he didn't want to lose respect from Will and them... Well, it's not like he was the leader of the Southwest Swangers, nor was he allowed to drive under conditions of his probation...But, still, keeping his status... Love verses Status -- Oh woe was he, trapped in the ever typical cliched romance.

    Carefully, Jacoby leaned over, closed in to the point were their noses were touching. Adrenaline rushed through his veins, urging him forward yet pushing him back.Yes, no, yes, no. Jacoby cupped Byron’s soft cheek, closed his eyes and brought his lips down on the sleeping boy’s, stroking Byron’s cheek with the pad of his thumb. It wasn’t until he pulled back did he feel his arm around his waist. Jacoby’s eyes shot open and found themselves staring into the deep pools of amber. All of the sudden, the roles were switched, leaving Jacoby to find himself on the bottom, beneath the barely clothed boy. “I-!” He couldn’t get a single word out. The covers were lifted above the two rendezvousing teens by Byron and the element of surprise appeared to make things better.

    A small whimper escaped his lips as the darkness fell around them, swallowing them completely. Now what? Expectantly, he looked at Byron's outline, wondering what would happen next. Normally, Jacoby would be the dominant one, but, for the oddest reason, he couldn't bring himself to do the first move. Maybe it's because Byron was slightly taller than he. "Well, what are you going to do?" Came his whisper as he sunk into the mattress, staring at the boy with expecting eyes. How much time had passed now? Hell, it wasn't even a minute, probably. Not even half a minute. Jacoby gulped a little and closed his eyes, shielding darkness with blindness, waiting for whatever was going to happen to happen.

    Byron looked at him and smirked. He didn't know if the other could see him or not. But Byron could see Jacoby. “I’m going to do the same thing you did to me.” He kissed him gently, one hand coming to Jacoby's cheek. He let his thumb gently rub at the soft skin. He then slid it back, going through his hair now. Byron closed his eyes, actually enjoying his kiss with the other, the best friend who was ‘straight’ . He didn't think he would. His other hand found its way around the other's back, pressing his body against his, sharing heat. Heat rushed to his cheeks and he almost melted, slowly surrendering himself by wrapping his arms around Byron's neck and pulling him closer for more sweet 'warmth'. Shyly, the boy's pierced tongue darted out, trailing the taller boy's bottom lip a little bit, eventually nibbling a bit on it as though it were a candy of sorts. A sweet little delicacy of sorts. Jacoby found himself weak in the stomach.

    Jacoby stifled a moan as Byron tugged his hair and started to massage his spine a little. Pain, more then anything, he liked it for some reason, when being.. 'dominated', so to speak. Never in his life, really, did he expect it too feel so wonderful coming from a guy. Straightening up a little, Jacoby decided it was his turn to be 'on top'. Gently, he pushed Byron around and straddled him a little, leaning down and kissing him a bit roughly, brushing his warm cheeks with the pads of his soft thumbs. Every touch was suddenly heightened in this sort of situation, thusly including the rather uncomfortable feeling between those legs of his. And Jacoby loved it – loved Byron, even. Their tongues danced with one another, exploring a newfound feeling, going beyond the boundaries of ‘being just friends’ “Sweeter than chocolate…” Muttered the older boy into the shell of the other’s ear, causing him to shiver in pleasure.

    “You’re all mine, Jacoby.” In a rush of motion, he was back on the bottom, missing his shirt, soon-to-be missing his pants. “Tell Sharon to take a ******** hike.” Ah, his girlfriend…How could he have forgotten about her? The little blond he met in middle school, who’d always wear short skirts, flaunt around…Claiming she was a virgin? Thoughts clouded his head, pushing Sharon out of the picture and replacing her with Byron. “I don’t share.” Ah, that slightly explains… Something crawled between his legs, teasing. Sound escaped his lips, lost only to the rustle of the sheets and the middle of Poison. “I wanna hurt you just to hear you screaming my name.” Jacoby’s eyes clenched shut and he bit his lip to the point of bleeding. “BYRON!” His name reached high above all sound, likely waking a few neighbors or so.

    Sometime later, amidst the chaos the two created inside the sheets, Jacoby lay wide awake still. This time staring at the text message on his cellphone. “IM GAY.” It read from Sharon, the subject being ‘Sorry’. A chuckle escaped his lips. ‘Funny…So am I.’ With that done, he tossed his device aside and snuggled back under the covers beside his partner in crime of different affairs. Finally, for the first time that night, Jacoby fell into a fitful bout of sleep, not waking for at least eight more hours from his chocolate induced sleep.

    After all…

    Sex is pretty tiring.