In The Closet


“Come on, we’re skipping.” Warren grabbed Andrew’s arm and pulled him towards the back exit.

Andrew stumbled, knocking into Warren. “What? No we’re not.”

“Sure we are. Come on, Andrew. It’s not like anybody actually goes to pep rallies anyway.”

“But-“

“Let’s go. We can go back to my place and order pizza and play video games.” Warren started walking, pulling Andrew along with him.

“Cool, can we get pepperoni and pineapple- hey wait.” He shook off Warren’s hand from his arm. “We can’t just skip the assembly. We’ll get caught. It’s like- not allowed.”

“So what?” Warren said, exasperated. They weren’t even close to the exit and the crowd had thinned out considerably, making it even more obvious that they weren’t heading for the gym. “Be a man, Andrew. Break a rule. It won’t kill you, I promise.”

“But what if we get detention-“

“We won’t if you hurry up. Come on.” He resumed walking, hoping that Andrew was following. He’d rather eat glass than sit through an hour of screaming, cheering, and school spirit, but he didn’t want to just go home and sit around either. At least not without company.

He heard Andrew sigh behind him and follow. Warren grinned. Andrew was so easy.

“And for any students caught in the hallway starting now, give them a week’s detention,” a familiar voice sounded from around the corner.

“Snyder. Dammit,” Warren muttered.

“Warren!” Andrew squeaked.

Warren looked around. Nowhere to go. Except- “Come on,” he hissed, and pulled Andrew into the janitor’s closet, shutting the door as quietly as possible just as Snyder entered the hall.

“And throw in Saturday school if they protest,” Snyder finished off. “I want all of you on watch. With six of us covering the corridors, no one will escape. That’ll teach them to cut class.”

“Well, it’s just an assembly, sir.” Warren recognized the voice of his math teacher. “It’s not really the same thing.”

“Truancy is truancy. If they’re so much as standing too close to the gym doors, write them up. These kids will learn school spirit if it kills them.” The sound of retreating footsteps followed that proclamation, and soon they heard someone walking back and forth in the hall immediately outside the closet.

“What do we do now?” Andrew sounded panicked. “If we try and leave, they’ll catch us!”

“Calm down.” He searched for a light switch. Nothing on the wall, and when he finally located a cord hanging from the ceiling, he pulled it. It clicked, but the light bulb stayed unlit. No light. Great.

Andrew continued on. “But what if we get detention? It’ll go on our records! And I can’t afford a week’s worth of staying after school, I have stuff to do!”

“You have a Playstation and a few seasons of The X-Files on tape. That is not ‘stuff,’ Andrew,” Warren said dryly.

“Hey-“

“Shh.” Warren put a finger to Andrew’s lips. “They’ll hear us, and then how would that look?”

“What do you mean ‘how would it look?’” Andrew asked, his lips moving over Warren’s fingertip.

Warren jerked his finger away. “Oh come on. You know what kids do in here.”

“Um.”

“Andrew, we need to get you a life.”

“Shut up!” He paused. “What do they do in here?”

Warren rolled his eyes. Andrew was only a year younger than he was, but sometimes it felt like a decade, the kid was so damned innocent. But endearingly so, Warren thought, then hastily brushed that thought aside.

“This is where everyone goes to make out,” he said shortly. “I don’t think the janitor even uses it. Which explains the lack of lighting.”

Andrew said nothing.

“You know, make out. Where two people get together and kiss. A lot.”

“I know what it means, Warren,” Andrew said.

“Hey, just checking.”

Silence. Warren’s eyes were adjusting to the dark; he could see the vague outline of Andrew in front of him. The closet was smaller than he had expected.

He glanced at his watch. Half an hour until the assembly let out. He was bored already. “So, have you ever done it?”

Andrew looked up. “Done what?”

“Made out with somebody.”

“Of course. I mean, yeah. Kind of.” He stopped, exhaled. “No.”

“Ever just kissed anybody?”

“What is this, twenty questions?”

“Actually, that was just two questions.”

Andrew sighed. “No, I haven’t. Okay? I’m sixteen and never been kissed. Go ahead and laugh.”

“I’m not going to laugh at you,” Warren said softly.

“Thanks.” He looked at the floor.

Warren looked at him. His pale skin was shadowed gray, making him look vaguely creepy in the tiny amount of light that came from beneath the door. Though not so much creepy as kind of pretty, Warren thought. He wondered how the rest of Andrew’s skin would look in the darkness. Probably as touchable as it did in daylight.

“So do you want to?” Warren asked suddenly.

“What?”

“Do you want to make out with somebody?”

“Yeah, sure,” Andrew said, an edge of nervousness creeping into his voice. “Of course I do.”

Warren stepped closer.

Andrew backed up into the shelves behind him, hitting his head on the highest one. “Ow,” he said, rubbing the back of his head.

“You okay?” Warren murmured.

“Sure. Um. What are you doing?”

“Nothing.”

“Because it looks kind of like you’re leaning in closer to me.”

“Weird.” Warren leaned closer.

“Warren, there’s definitely- you’re doing something.” His voice shook on the last syllable.

Warren was no more than a few inches from Andrew, his hand slipping around to the back of Andrew’s neck. “I’m waiting for you to tell me to stop,” he said quietly. “And if that’s going to happen, then now would be the time.”

Andrew stayed quiet.

Warren kissed him.

After a moment, Andrew kissed back, his lips parting slightly. He was trembling, just a little bit, hands rising hesitantly to slide around Warren’s waist. Tilting his head upwards, kissing him harder. The shelves were digging into his back but he barely noticed as Warren pressed against him. It was getting hot in there. He felt like he was wearing too much clothing. Warren, too. There should be nakedness, Andrew thought hazily.

Warren pulled back to catch his breath. “You okay?” he whispered.

“Great,” Andrew said. “Don’t stop.”

“Yeah,” Warren murmured, and kissed him again.

Some twenty minutes later, the final bell rang. Andrew jumped in surprise, causing Warren to laugh at him, which in turn brought on Andrew’s injured expression.

Ten minutes passed before Warren felt like he had adequately kissed it better. The hallways were once again deserted, and they were able to slip out unnoticed.

“Come on,” Warren said, leading Andrew to the parking lot. “Let’s get you home.”

Andrew stopped. “I don’t want to go home.”

Warren smiled at him. “I meant my home.”

“Okay.”

With a shy grin, Andrew followed him out.

End
5/29/02

Feedback: Like Andrew in glasses, it can only be a good thing.
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