Little Ray of Sunshine

A/N: Tokio Hotel totally debuted their album in America today by appearing on TRL.

I COULD HAVE BEEN THAT CRAZY FANBOY IN THE AUDIENCE. D:

It was so funny, the host was like “So… Bill. *stares at Bill’s hair* How do you get it to do that?” And Bill was like “Oohohoho *smile, flutter* Loooots of hair spray and mumblemumbleGermanaccentmumble. :D”

The hosts seemed a bit awkward. But the boy’s English was very good, I’m proud of them. :]



It was funny when they were performing Übers und der Velt (wtf? I think I failed hardcore at that spelling), Bill went over to Tom and was all “I promise you right now *Caressssssssss, sing into Tom’s ear* blahblahblah” (I hate English versions of foreign songs ._.) and the hosts were like “O___O is that normal!?” XD It pleased my soul SO much.



The fanboy inside of me was happy. I was sitting two inches away from the screen, pawing it and going “MA! MA! LOOK AT THEM!”

And she was all “His pants are tighter than yours…” and I’m all DUH BECAUSE BILL IS HOT. Though I prefer Georg ;D Roflroflrofl.



Anyway.

LOL @ Jess’s review. Rain Bow? Fer sure. But that story wasn’t too popular… if I don’t get more than 4 reviews for the first chapter in the span of 3 days I usually delete the story.



Like this one, I almost deleted it on the second day. :O But good thing I didn’t, eh? HAHAHA. Ha. Ha. *cough*



YAY MOON CHILD. Marry me nao plz. :D



Wait. Me and Lexxie are getting married in Malaysia. PRETTY MALAYSIAN DRESSES FTW. =D



Oho. I’m glad you kiddies like the story. It’s kinda supposed to have an ‘anime’ feel about it. ‘Cuz that’s how I roll, yo. *rolls like a cholo... or something*





-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-



Right as soon as I walked into work, I knew life was going to fail me completely at that exact moment in time. The typical crowd was browsing; fake girls and testosterone-filled guys, moms that think they’re twenty years younger than they really are, and the occasional old creepy guy that just walks around and… does nothing. Except stare at everyone. We give him a twenty minute time limit before we start shooing him away with the surfboards.



I had changed into a pair of khaki shorts and a grey Hollister tee, a seashell necklace snug around my throat, a leather watch on my right wrist, and I had my hair pulled up messily.



Ah, can’t forget the leather thongs, too. Did you know that we have to wear flip flops 24/7/365? Fucking retarded, especially here where it – gasp! – SNOWS in the winter time. But because it’s Hollister and Hollister lives in a bubble of Hollister, it’s Hollister as in California and therefore it’s sunny ALL THE FREAKING TIME.



I passed through a group of giggling girls, my eyes adjusting to the dim lighting. Whoever thought that dim lights would ‘set the mood’ needs to be shot in the face. You can hardly see a thing. I’ve stubbed my toes so many times – flip flops don’t help – you’d think that they’d just brighten the lamps a bit, for liability shit.



“Oh, Julian. Good.” Mandy, the manager, shuffled up to me and handed me a clipboard. “Go through the stock in the back real quick – just do a sweep so Jessica can get the final count when she comes in. There’s clothes in the lounge that need to be pulled out of the boxes, ironed, and hung up and folded and stuff so don’t forget to do that. One of the surfboards needs polished, some kid touched it and was eating a burrito at the same time, so God-knows-what is now smeared all over the board.”



I blinked.



She kept going.



“You’re closing tonight, so don’t forget to go around with the swiffer and get everything all cleaned up – oh! Re-dress the mannequins, too, they’ve had the same clothes on for three days, like, gross. Remember the cologne and please, please don’t be cynical and sarcastic to employees and-or customers?” Mandy blew a kiss and smiled before rushing out of the store.



I sighed and turned around, heading into the back to clock in and set about the first set of chores I was given. Holding up the clipboard, I checked off the numbers that corresponded with the boxes, humming to myself and thinking while I did the mundane task.



So far the dream hadn’t come back to haunt me since this morning. It would really suck if I was back here and then all of a sudden the building caught on fire. I think I’d pee myself in fright. Or something. I nodded my head to the generic pop beat that was buzzing through our speakers, marking off a few more things before setting the clipboard down and making my way out to the lounge. Sure enough there were towers of boxes on the furniture, and I sighed.



Fuck my life.



Starting with a box that was on the ground, I cleared off a chair and sat down in it, opening the box and pulling out the clothes. Now that Summer is well on its way we’re getting in our beach shipments in; which, honestly, I don’t understand what the difference is. Hollister sells tank-tops and short-shorts all year round.



After about an hour of that, and stopping to point a customer in a general direction, I finally had all of the clothes sorted out. I went about my task of picking a table to put the new merch on, and put all of the old clothes in the now empty boxes. I saw Jessica behind the counter, she smiled and waved and I nodded in response, and then let my eyes glance up to the surfboard behind her. Yeah, there was the gross Mexican stain that some stupid child left behind.



How come I have to clean it? Just because I’m the only guy on shift doesn’t mean I need to take care of all of this shit. Jessica is just standing there and smiling, Mandy high-tailed it outta here, and fuck if I know where Nicole is. Well I don’t care where she is, that redheaded bitch.



Er.



Going back into the stock room I picked up a bottle of 409 and a rag, as well as some wax before pulling the surfboard off of its display hooks and bringing it into the lounge, setting it on our sofa. A few people watched, like they’d never seen a real person clean a real surfboard before (what can I say? We live no where near the ocean), and it was all I could do to not snap at someone every time I got asked a question.



That task only took a few minutes, and I mounted the surfboard back on the wall. I yawned and rubbed my forehead with the back of my palm, returning the cleaning solvents back to their places and then walking around to fix the little things. Make sure everything was organized, clothing were on the hangers correctly, hats were displayed nicely.



“Uhm, Julian?” I turned around to see Nicole smacking her gum obnoxiously between her gapped teeth, a finger twirling her curly red hair.



I tried not to glare. “Yes?”



“Well, like, Mandy said I could get off at seven tonight. Can I have my break now?”



Deep breath. Count backwards from ten. Being assistant manager is… annoying. I don’t even know why I agreed to the promotion.



“In ten minutes you can have a fifteen minute break.” She only works four hours on a weekday, anyhow. It almost looked like she was going to argue, but she kept her ugly trap shut and turned around, asking some customers if they needed help finding anything.



I let out my breath and turned around, only to run into someone, making me yelp in surprise and jump back a couple of feet. Jessica screeched as well and placed a hand over her heart, and laughed lightly.



“Sheesh, Jules. Calm down a bit.”



I ran a hand through my ponytail and shook my head, smiling lightly. Jessica actually isn’t that bad, she’s got to be the only girl that I can stand. “Eh. Yeah. What do you need?”



She handed me the clipboard that I had been working on, smiling proudly. “I finished running inventory.”



I scanned over the list and nodded, grinning at her and patting her on the arm as I brushed by. “Great, thanks.”



She giggled and nodded, and I know she was watching me as I walked away. It’s no secret that she has a huge crush on me, and really, I don’t mind. She’s attractive and doesn’t have a grudge against me and actually makes me feel pretty manly… so I keep her around. That, and she’s a good worker, she doesn’t usually let her little schoolgirl crushes get in the way of what I ask her to do.



“Ah, sorry I’m late Julian!”



I glanced at my watch as I heard the voice, and looked up to see Ethan jogging towards me, then past me, then disappearing into the back room to clock in. Eh, he’s less than five minutes late. I’ll skip the lecture and just give him random shit to do.



A few hours went by, and I was standing behind the counter, bent over a bit and resting my elbows on the glass surface. I was flipping through the latest Boarder magazine, when I felt the eerie dark presence of a witch keeping an eye on me.



I glanced up and saw Oompa Loompa hovering near a fern, and raised a brow.



“May I help you?” I ask, keeping my manner professional as I flip the page of the magazine.



Oompa Loompa glanced around as if to make sure I was talking to her (does she really think she’s hidden well?) and then scuttled forward to the counter. I’m not talking like, a shuffle-scuttle. She looked like a fucking crab on two legs, wobbling back and forth before she finally slithered up the counter and peeked her eyes over the edge. She was glaring.



“I didn’t know you worked here.” She hissed. I think she’s smelling the cologne with her tongue.



“Yeah. Assistant manager.” I said dully, scanning over a page of swim trunks.



Another hiss, a pained one, and she ducked briefly before reappearing again, her eyes narrowed.



“This is fucking retarded…”



I finally glanced up at her, and calmly shut my book, staying bent over the counter. “Is there anything specific I can help you with?”



She tilted her head, obviously wary. “Tell me why you’re not sabotaging my life?”



“Because if I could sabotage your life and get paid to do it, I wouldn’t. The sheer joy that sadism brings me is plenty.”



Her glare deepened, and I busied myself by opening the counter and placing the magazine back on the shelf. When I glanced back up, Oompa Loompa was gone, but the faint smell of her gross perfume lingered. I picked up a bottle of Hollister brand cologne and sprayed, coughing up a lung after doing so, and then proceeded to walk around and spray the merchandise.



We have to do this every fucking thirty minutes. Gay, right? The smell gives me a headache, and most other people that walk in are assaulted by the scent – fuck, you can smell this store all the way in the food court. That is potent.



As I was spraying the mannequins in the front, Ethan approached me with a sheepish look on his face. I glanced over at him dully – really, being emotionless while at work is the only reason I still have a job – and waiting for him to speak while I fixed the man-mannequin’s jacket.



“Hey. Uh… I was wondering-,”



“No.”



He blinked. “I didn’t even ask you yet…”



“I don’t care.” I shrugged. “The answer is no.”



“There’s free food involved.~”



I contemplated, then shrugged. “Eh.”



“Yes?”



“No.”



He grunted and walked away, and I chuckled to myself. Ethan was a cute kid. Too bad he’s straight and trying to set me up with Jessica. It’s a bit awkward. But it’s interesting to see the different ways they try to hook us up. Most people come to Hollister hoping to catch a glimpse of the crazy shit that goes on.



Some are lucky, some are unfortunate.



Right about now was one of those lucky moments.



When I walked back inside, Ethan was behind a male mannequin, and Nicole behind a female one. I stopped and stared, and they both instantly made the mannequins come to life.



“Oh, Julian!” Nicole’s mannequin said in an overly-dramatic wail. “You’re so handsome and wonderful and perfect!”



“Oh, Jessica!” Ethan’s mannequin almost fell over with the arm movement, but was caught with a surprised yelp. “You’re so beautiful and wonderful and have such a bright, outgoing and amazing personality! Will you let me take you out to dinner tonight at a romantic sit-down restaurant?”



“Oh, Julian~ that would be so romantic and absolutely captivating!” The sweater was starting to fall off of a shoulder with the sporadic movements.



“Let’s make babies, Jessica! Beautiful, wonderful, perfect babies!”



“Oh yes, four-hundred of them!”



“Yes, because I’m so full of preposterous amounts of manly testosterone!”



I picked up a nearby mannequin and joined in. “That’s preposterone!”



Ethan and Nicole paused and stared at me for a second, then set their mannequins right.



“Dude, Julian. That’s immature.” Nicole said, rolling her eyes and walking away. Ethan just shook his head, looking disappointed as he walked away as well.



I shrugged and turned towards the mannequin. “They don’t understand our love, Manny.~” I said, then leaned forward and planted a wet one on plastic lips. “We’ll go to Canada and elope!”



A hacky sack hit me in the back of the head, followed by a “Get a room!”.



-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-



After I closed up the store, I headed out to my truck. Jingling my keys and whistling lightly, I figured today wasn’t as bad as it could have been. Oompa Loompa didn’t attempt at my life, that creepy old man that always tries to buy our surfboard wasn’t even there, and I didn’t get any flack from my employees or the stupid kids that hang around the mall all of the time.



Yeah, pretty good day.



I nodded to myself as I unlocked the truck and got inside, turning it on and pulling my phone from my pocket to check my messages.



You have: 26 New Text Messages

8 Missed Calls

3 New Voice Mails

4 Picture Alerts!



Jesus Christ. Think people miss me much? I got about halfway through the texts, absorbed in the act of my thumbs typing at the speed of light, and when a smack on my window shook the whole truck, I screamed like a fucking girl and turned to see Jason standing there with a stupid grin on his face.



I huffed and rolled down my window. “Eat shit and die, fuck face. You scared me half to death.”



Jason shrugged, then tapped his chin. “I wonder what happens when you get scared half to death, twice?”



I blinked. Hm, that was some interesting logic…



“What do you need?”



He grinned and rounded to the other side of the truck, getting in on the passenger side. “Oh, you know. A ride home.”



I raised a brow, then held out my hand. “Gas money, bitch.”



He grabbed my hand and tugged me forward, my heart lurching and pounding in my chest as he whispered in my ear; “I think there’s another way I could pay you back…” He nipped at my lobe teasingly, and a shudder ran through my body.



As he pulled away, I glared and shook my head. “Finish what you started.”



I reached out and tangled my fingers in his hair, planting my mouth firmly on his. There was a shocked moment that passed briefly between the both of us, but soon enough he reciprocated the kiss and then took advantage of it. I whimpered against his lips, making typical uke-noises, and when he sucked my lower lip into his mouth I raked my hands down his clothed chest, making him sigh into my mouth. Soon enough I was on his lap, we were making out heatedly, and fingers were fumbling with buttons and zippers. I shucked my pants off and tossed them into the driver’s seat, then reached down between us and undid his pants, pulling his cock through the slit in his jeans.



It was thick and hot in my hand, and while I was kissing his neck I could feel his pulse both on my lips and fingertips. I smirked against his skin, leaving a small mark as I bit it, but that only seemed to egg him on. His hips rocked upwards into my fist, and I ‘tsk’ed lightly as I spread my legs on either side of him, trying my best to fit comfortably.



Which, in my small truck, was nearly impossible.



But because I’m stubborn and impatient, and because I have a high pain tolerance and am damn flexible, it worked. Soon I was sinking onto his arousal and being split at the seams, and I dropped my head back and tried to relax my lower body for the intrusion. It’d been a while since I’d bottomed (… well, I’m on top technically, but you know what I mean), so I probably should have taken time to prepare myself. But eh. As stated, I’m stubborn and impatient and have a high pain tolerance. Besides, being a masochist has its plus sides. He groaned and nibbled on my neck as his cock slid deeper within me, and when I was seated on him completely, his hands went to my hips to keep me still.



“Nh…”



I licked my lips, the cab of the truck fogging up considerably. I reached out with a deft hand and rolled down the window a crack, the cool air caressing my skin sending shivers down my spine. His hand reached up and pulled the tie from my hair, making it fall down my back in a cascade, then ran his fingers through it. Before I could focus on how nice that felt, though, his fingers gripped at my scalp a bit forcefully as he gave a quick, experimental thrust into my body.



I whimpered. He moaned.



“Yeah…” With one hand still in my hair and the other on my hip, he guided me up, my thighs quaking and straining with the weight of my entire body. The feel of his cock sliding out centimeter by centimeter felt like I had a nail file going up my rectum, the sheer dryness of it all practically overwhelming. I could feel the slight warmth of the pre-cum that was collecting on the tip of his arousal, but that was hardly enough.



He forced me back down, and a million little lightning bolts shot up my spine, making me cry out a bit and arch my back.



God, it hurt.



I loved it.



Panting heavily, he continued to force me up and down on his cock, until finally I got inspired enough to do it on my own. When that happened, one of my hands was on the back of the seat to support myself, the other on the door frame to help keep my balance. The pain was mixing in with the pleasure, the truck was rocking with my violent movements, my scalp was starting to feel a bit sore from the grip Jason had on it.



That’s right you slut.



Take it like a real bitch.



I whimpered and started to move myself a bit faster. Jason hadn’t said those words. I didn’t say those words… where did they come from?



Oh, such a pretty little whore.



I don’t think this is considered rape when you seem to like it so much, kid.



Water gathered in the corners of my eyes, from the intense feelings rushing through my body or from those words, I have no idea. All I know is that the burning sensation in my sinuses was starting to let up, and soon water was cascading down my cheeks and dropping onto Jason’s shirt.



Look, he’s crying as if we really care what happens to him.



Aw c’mon, kid. You should really learn to make up your mind.



All motions stopped, but it took me a moment to realize that Jason was tilting my head towards his own face so he could look at me, and when my eyes finally focused I saw worry in his eyes.



“Hey, Jules? Jules. You okay?”



I blinked a few times, as if confused as to what was going on. Why… why is Jason in my truck? Why am I naked? Oh God.



I’m such a fucking slut.



I shook my head and scrambled off of Jason’s body quickly, reaching for my clothes and covering up my body, breathing shakily and trying to get as far away from him as possible. How can he look at me like that? I’m a dirty fucking skank. Don’t give me that look like you’re actually concerned about me.



“Julian. What happened? Did I hurt you?” He reached out for me, but I shook my head violently and murmured a ‘no’. He frowned, and I glanced off towards the side.



“Don’t feel good all of a sudden…” I mumbled, and Jason shifted a bit awkwardly. I’m sure he was still aroused as fuck, but all of my passion was dead in the blink of an eye. I apologized, he said ‘don’t worry about it’, and then he straightened himself out and put on his seat belt.



Ah, right. I’m giving him a ride home.



I put on my clothes and turned on the A/C in an attempt to de-fog the windows, and then started out. Jason gave me directions and I followed them, and when we pulled up to his house, he hesitated at getting out.



“Hey, I…”



He didn’t seem to have the right words, so I glanced at him and smiled. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault.” I winked. “We can make a rain check, though.”



Jason can see past it, I know he can. But he doesn’t say anything, he just smiles and nods. “All right. See you later, thanks again.”



I nodded and waited until he was inside before driving away, pulling out my cell phone and hitting speed dial #2.



“Colby. Hey, can you be in my room when I get home? I need to talk to you…”







*~*~

A/N: Serious chapter wut? Haha. Lalala. I don’t know what to say about this chapter. But we need to dive in a bit further on Julian’s life, eh? Still trying to keep it comical.

I’m drunk right now.



I fucking SUCK at beer pong, you seriously don’t want me on your team. I failed hardcore and got my whole team wasted.

I guess the fact that I’m drinking a strawberry daiquiri doesn’t help my drunken-ness right now… but it tastes so good!

11:35 in the fucking PM and I’m home from drinking already.

Gayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy.



Hege;; the way aff is formatted means that if you have any sort of ‘less than’ or ‘greater than’ sign it will consider it as an html code and therefore make anything inside of the brackets invisible. So uh. Refrain from using those things in your reviews? I’d love to read ALL of what you have to say. XD





I’m gonna go bake brownies!

REVIEW AND YOU GET ONE.