I LIVE! I know I updated a few days ago and then changed my mind, and I'm really sorry about that, but I'm back with another chapter! :D (The one I removed has been posted as a separate story called Speechless, if you…I dunno…maybe wanna go and read it sometime. :P )

First though, I want to thank all my awesomely amazing reviewers: Bee Rae (Wow! That's one hell of a compliment! Thank you! Seriously. Poe is one of my absolute favorite authors and being compared to him is just…wow…Let me love you! XD ), SmilexXxAmongxXxScowls, BG, Xani B, RhiannaNekozawa (Aww, I'm sorry it made you cry, but I'm glad you liked it.), AceyJacey, In The Loft, Illyric, Stara Aquila (Thank you! The fact that you're not really a fan of the pairing but read the story anyway makes me happier than you could ever imagine!), cosugimmebutterflies (I loved you're review. Thank you so much for being so honest and so detailed about what you enjoyed. It's that kind of thing that keeps me writing—just knowing that someone out there can relate to the scenarios that I come up with. It really means a lot to me. ), Heaven'sKnight15, BigTimeGleekBTR, Sir Gnome the Giant, ShoelessKayla, Razor 0603 (Hahaha! I was listening to Don't Let Go by Bryan Adams when I named it! :D), and, last but not least, LaLaTink. You're guys' reviews fuel me like gasoline fuels Cary's fire, and I can never thank you enough for that.

Warnings: Boy love, teenage hormones, and uncomfortable situations.

Also, the song that's playing during this chapter is Can't Help Falling in Love by Elvis Presley. I listened to it on repeat the entire time I was writing, so if you're curious or want to read while it's playing, then you can find it here: http : / www. Youtube .com / watch?v=uqv5b0UjR4g (remove the spaces).

Disclaimer: Nope. Still not mine.

The third was when they were thirteen and just starting their last year of middle school. Fall had arrived much earlier than usual, turning the crisp September air from hot to chilly in a only a matter of weeks. Leaves were beginning to decay and drop off trees faster than people could rake them off their lawns, resulting in a sheet of vibrant orange and yellow hues draping the town of Lillian.

Unlike all the other kids his age, who were outside enjoying the colorful season, Joe was indoors, pacing back and forth in his living room, nervously patting his pockets and staring at the door—anticipating the knock that was sure to come. It was a Saturday evening, and his parents had used their rare mutual time off to go on a much-needed date. Their classic dinner, dancing, and movie would run until at least eleven, they had warned—which gave Joe roughly four hours to do what needed to be done.

Sighing, the dark-haired teen turned on his heel for the hundredth time that night, digging his toes into the plush, shaggy carpet as pushed forward again. His stomach was a horrible tangle of nerves and knots that made him want to either cry or vomit—he couldn't decide. Just as he reached the back of room, the sound of frantic pounding on wood stopped him is tracks. His heart stalled with dread. He couldn't believe what he was about to do.

"Come in!" Joe yelled, glad he had thought to keep the front door unlocked. Though, considering the company, he doubted it would have mattered. There was a metallic squeal of rusty hinges followed by a muffled bang as the door swung open and closed, allowing the quick thuds of footfalls to make their way towards him.

"Alright!" Cary exclaimed, bursting into the room with a fervent energy that only a pyromaniac could possess. His blond locks were tangled and windswept, and his cheeks were flushed a deep crimson, giving away the fatigue caused by a frantic sprint across town. "Where is it?" He didn't wait for his friend to respond as he ran around the furniture, checking every obvious place in sight. Joe held back a groan. He was afraid of this part…

"Cary," he started, grabbing onto the smaller boy's shoulder as he rushed by. Cerulean eyes peered up at him, practically beaming with excitement. Guilt dropped itself onto Joe's shoulders like a lead weight. "I…I lied…" Light eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. "Sorry, man." And he really was sorry.

Disappointment broke down Cary's joy like water extinguishes fire, causing a dark frown to spread across his lips.

"What the hell, man? You mean you don't have the new Black Cat Bottle Rockets?"

Joe hung his head in shame.

"Aww, man!" The blond whined, stomping a foot down childishly as he shoved the hand off his shoulder. "I was excited! You're a dick, Joe!"

"I know, I know. I'm so sorry, Cary. Really, I am. I just needed to make sure you'd come over!" Cary huffed and crossed his arms, flopping graceless down on the couch.

"Why?" he pouted—his long, shaggy hair falling over his face and eyes, making his downturned mouth more obvious. If Joe didn't know any better, he would have thought it was cute.

"Because…" the brunet fought the urge to fidget. "I…I need your help with something." His friend's face instantly lit up.

"You're coming to me for help?"

Joe nodded in confirmation.

"Gnarly!" Cary grinned, showing off adorably crooked, newly-braced teeth and sitting up straight. "So what's up?"

The taller boy nearly cringed at the question.

"Well…you know about the dance this weekend, right?"

"Yeah, that bullshit Fall Formal. What about it?"

"Mom's making me go…"

"That sucks," Cary cackled. "Preston's mom is making him go too. But what does that gotta do with me?"

"I'm going with…" he paused to sigh heavily. "I'm going with Cathy Barnes and—don't you look at me like that! I didn't have a choice!" Joe scolded at his friend's taunting stare. "My Dad volunteered me!"

Cathy Barnes was a girl from the grade below them. Upon first glance, she seemed perfectly normal—slightly on the short side, a tad bit overweight, always in the company of a cackling, gossiping group of fluffy-haired friends. But, when paired together in a school production of Peter Pan (stage crew and special effects, thank you very much), one is quick to learn just how rude and angry and obnoxious the red-head really is. Her words were harsh, and her voice was shrill, and dammit she was so whiney. Which, consequently, made it very difficult to get a date.

Good thing for her that Mr. Barnes and Mr. Lamb work together, though—and that Mr. Lamb has a son that's "right around her age" that "doesn't have anyone to take" and "is just dying to go."

Joe wanted to smash his face into the wall when he heard the news.

Repeatedly.

Until he lost consciousness.

"I still don't see what that has to do with me," Cary said, interrupting his friend's violent inner thoughts.

"I-I need…" Joe shifted his weight from foot to foot whilst rubbing the back of his neck in an awkward manner. "Ineedyoutoteachmehowtodance!" The words came out in a mumbled, garbled rush, causing the boy's face to burn with utter mortification.

"Huh?" Cary cocked his head to the side like a puzzled puppy, nose scrunched up a little.

"I need you to…help me learn how to dance…like, practice with me."

"What?" the blond shouted, his voice cracking horribly. Damn puberty. "No!"

"Please, Cary!" Joe begged, folding his hands into begging position and giving his friend the biggest, saddest eyes he could muster.

"No! I mean, why me? Why not Preston? He's going! Make him do it!"

"I can't!"

"There's no way, Joe! No fucking way!"

"But I'm more comfortable with you than I am with Preston!" he insisted. And he wasn't lying. "I trust you more!"

That shut Cary up. Stunned blue eyes darted around for a moment before shamelessly gaping at him.

"…Really?" he asked, disbelieving.

"Of course."

Silence engulfed the room, making the world seem surreal—like time had stopped. The blond worried his lower lip between his teeth as he considered Joe's dilemma. On one hand, the whole situation was embarrassing. Because what teenage boy willingly dances with his male friend while they're home alone at night? But, on the other hand…that male friend was Joe. Sweet, quiet Joe Lamb. His comrade. His buddy. The guy that had saved his ass more times than he could count, the one person he knew would always be there if anything ever went wrong, no matter how small the problem. And…he trusted him. Joe trusted him. Nobody trusted Cary. Ever. Not even his own mother.

"Fine…" he sighed in defeat. The huge grin he got in return was breathtaking.

"Thank you so much."

"Yeah, yeah." Cary shrugged off his denim jacket and stood, making his way to the center of the room. "Let's get this over with."

"Right!" Joe said, dashing over to the radio on the coffee table and switching it on. Static filled the air for a few seconds before the deep, sultry voice of Elvis Presley trickled from the speakers.

"Wise men say, only fools rush in…"

"Holy shit, you're going to make me slow dance with you, aren't you?" It was more of statement than a question. The brunet shrugged his shoulders as he gave the blond an apologetic grimace. Cary groaned obnoxiously, visibly clenching his jaw in frustration before taking a deep breath.

"But I can't help, falling in love with you…"

"Get over here," he demanded. Joe obeyed immediately; scared his friend would change his mind if took too long. "Closer," the smaller boy urged, waving him forward. "You have to be right in front of me, not a foot away, dumbass."

"Sorry…" Joe shuffled so that their toes were only a few inches apart. At such a close proximity, he finally realized just how small Cary really was. The top of the teen's head barely reached the brunet's shoulders, forcing him to tilt his face up a fraction to stare into dark, doe-like eyes.

"Shall I stay, would it be a sin…"

"If I can't help…

"We will never speak of this again. Do you understand?" The blond threatened, a rosy blush spreading slowly across his cheeks.

"Never," Joe reassured. "I promise."

"…falling in love with you…"

"Good. Now…" Cary grabbed his friend's right arm and placed it along his lower back. "If you move that arm any lower, I swear to God, I'm blowing it off." He reached up to rest his left hand on Joe's shoulder while firmly grasping their free hands together at elbow height.

"Like a river flows, surely to the sea…"

"Follow my lead…"

The blond took a small step back, allowing the taller male to step forward. Joe nodded, keeping his eyes downcast to watch his feet with a lot more focus than the situation called for. He had expected this…encounter…to be uncomfortable. But he didn't think that awkward uncomfortable was what he was feeling at the moment. They had only just begun their rotation—toe-to-toe, hand-to-hand, hand-to-slender waist—and his knees already felt weak. His skin was on fire. A cold sweat threatened to break out along his shoulder blades. And those goddamn fucking bullshit butterflies were in the process of waging the next world war inside his abdomen. He inhaled deeply, getting a big whiff of gunpowder, ash, and a spicy scent that was entirely Cary.

He was so screwed.

"Darling so it goes, some things are meant to be…

Cary's heart was pounding in his ears. Literally pounding, like the organ in question had been shoved up into his brain. His palms were starting to feel damp, and his fingers were shaking, and he frantically hoped he didn't look anywhere near as uneasy as he felt. This wasn't the way things were supposed to go.

He wasn't supposed to feel like a girl that had been escorted to the ballroom by her crush. He wasn't supposed to appreciate how soft his friend's slender hand was cradled in his own. He wasn't supposed to be hyperaware of Joe's breath brushing against his cheek on every exhale—making his blood boil underneath his skin like lava even though the chills running down his spine felt cold.

He wasn't supposed to feel any of that.

But he did.

"Take my hand…"

Cary unintentionally nudged his nose against the taller boy's collarbone, subtly burying his face in his shirt. The arm sprawled along his middle twitched.

"…take my whole life too…"

Brave, yet cautious, the blond trailed his hand from its place on Joe's shoulder over to the base of his neck before sweeping downwards, caressing each notch of his spine with gentle care. The contact made the brunet shiver.

"…for I can't help…"

Joe dropped his head slightly, nuzzling his chin into Cary's shining, wheat-colored locks as his heart fluttered deep in his chest. His mind—the traitor it was—chose that moment to flash back to two years ago, to a time when the boys sat on a set of unused railroad tracks in the light of the setting sun. He remembered it perfectly—the warmth of his friend's mouth against own…the salty taste of tears…the cherry red color of his kiss-swollen lips…

He squeezed Cary a fraction closer.

"…falling in love with you…"

The boy in question allowed his eyes to drift upward, tilting his face slightly—forcing Joe's chin away—so he could fix him with a shy, mischievous look. Joe simply stared back, chewing on his lower lip and taking notice of the flicks of silver and sky blue buried deep inside bright irises.

"Like a river flows…"

Of its own accord, the hand held at elbow height released its grip on Cary's fingers and moved up the length of his arm, resting in the curve of his neck—thumb carefully wedged underneath his fine jawbone.

"…surely to the sea…"

The blond allowed his free hand to meet with the one at the base of Joe's spine, holding him in a loose embrace as he rocked up on the tips of his toes.

"Darling so it goes…"

"…some things are meant to be…"

Their lips touched.

"Take my hand…"

"Take my whole life too…"

Joe could immediately tell that this kiss was different. Because this time, there were no tingles. There were no butterflies or melting organs or electrifying sparks—or even the spiraling rush of lightheadedness.

No…there was something else.

"For I can't help…"

Fire.

Raw, untamable fire.

As Cary's mouth moved—slow and careful, yet undeniably forceful—the flames billowed deep inside his very core, steaming his blood and allowing him see the vibrant red of pure, unadulterated passion.

"…falling in love with you…"

He released the blond's face in favor of grabbing his hair, winding a few strands around his fingers and pulling tight.

Cary gasped.

Joe dove in.

"For I can't help…"

Tongues and teeth clashed in a battle of need, neither boy willing to give up dominance despite both desperately wanting to. Braces nipped mercilessly at the brunet's lips, tugging and releasing, mixing pain with pleasure in the most wonderful and memorable way possible.

"…falling in love…"

He blindly wished he could live like this forever—

Stay in this moment forever.

Just him and Cary, lips moving and tongues caressing, arms wrapped tightly around each other, absent-mindedly swaying to the music on the radio.

It was perfect.

"…with you…"

It was heaven.

Umm…Tada?

I can has review, please? (Or error notifications, critique, or hate mail...I'm not picky.)