Do Not Fall Down Stairs

Do Not Fall Down Stairs



Chapter Two



Caution: water on road during rain.



ooooooooooooo



“I can’t believe you’re actually going to do this, man.”



“Believe it, dude,” I shot back at Michael, putting a bored and mocking emphasis on the last word.



“But you could be frickin’ caught!”



Reaching the intersection of wings D and C, I looked both ways around the corner to make sure no one was around. Since the halls were empty, I kept walking. Michael kept following. Actually, he wasn’t even supposed to be there. My plan had been to creep inconspicuously back into the school after all the jocks and thespians and geeky math kids who stayed after to learn logarithms and whatever else had left. Then, I would stroll casually to Professor Luz’s room, whip my cock out, and sex him over his paint

splattered tables.



Or something like that.



However, Michael - the darling boy - absolutely insisted upon coming with me and would not be shaken off, thus ruining my brilliant schemes, since I would simply not be able to keep a hard-on with my straight friend watching Luz and I from the doorway, screaming things like, “Keep goin’, man,” or some other ridiculous skater-like interjection that I imagined he said during sex. If he even had sex. He’d been pining after Sarena so long I found it hard to believe he’d had the chance to do it yet. I added ‘Find out status of Michael’s virginity’ to my list of things to accomplish, above ‘Ask if Emilee Tate’s boobs were a birthday present from her rich daddy’ but below ‘Suck Luz’s dick’.



“There are so many things wrong with this, Titus,” he mumbled, glancing around nervously. We were outside the art room now and I was pondering the best course of action to take now since my original one was in the proverbial toilet.



“Shut up, would you?”



“How do you even know he’s gay? Maybe he likes girls.”



“Doesn’t matter. Gonna fuck him.” I resorted to the use of fragments, hoping my obvious disinterest would make Michael close his damn trap. I saw Luz walk by the door through the tiny window in the middle of it and ducked low for a second. Michael, the idiot, swore out loud.



Meaning loud enough for the object of our perusal to turn around, spot him, and come open the door.



Which I was crouching in front of. Fuck.



The door smacked me in the forehead and I tumbled backwards onto the ground at the professor’s feet. Apparently, he had not realized I was there with Michael until he assaulted me with school property, and thus stared down at me in surprise with those gorgeous green eyes.



“Mr. Rothbin? Mr. Marks? Are you okay?”



I am awesome, Mr. Hottness-Please-Lick-Me-Where-I-Pee. I just made excellent friends with that wooden rectangle whose knob you are feeling. Would you like to feel my knob now?



“Yes.”



“What are you doing down there?”



Having a fucking picnic. Asshole. Do me. Please. So I can tell Wendy to eat her fucking cleverness with a side of ‘screw you’.



“Um.”



“I dropped my pen,” Michael blurted much too loudly, apparently thinking this was a smart response. His skin flushed. “Er. Titus was getting it for me.”



Luckily, Professor Luz did not even bother to check that I had no pen in my hand. There was not even a pen in the general vicinity, but he overlooked that as well. “All right then. Well, you kids should probably get home soon if you have no business here.”



Kids? Excuse me? All my gay pride begged me to triple snap in his face and demand that he correct himself since I was not by any means a kid-



“Actually we wanted to come work on our sketches for a little while if that’s okay.”



Oh my God. Michael. Mikey. My dear. I love you. I take back everything I said about you being stupid and cowardly and oh, you are so getting a hug later even if you don’t want one.



Luz smiled. “Sure. I’m going to be here for about half an hour more so you have until then.” With that he stepped out of the doorway and went back into the room.



Michael put a hand out and helped pull me to my feet. I brushed all the dirt from my clothes before trailing behind him to the cabinet where our drawings were held. We retrieved our work and sat in our usual chairs.



Michael, the artist and the one who wasn’t trying to seduce the teacher, immediately bent over his paper. I looked down at my own. It was a messy, awful collaboration of mistakes, distractions, and a lack of any talent whatsoever. If you squinted, it almost looked like a bald hamster with a retarded leg.



I soon realized, however, that my terrible “drawing” could be used to my advantage. I smirked, probably bearing some similarities to a serial killer about to strike, and put on my best innocent voice to yell, “Professor, could you help me please? I’m having trouble.”



Luz was standing behind me in a minute, his crotch level with my head. I just had to turn around, surpass a button or two and-



“What can I do for you, Mr. Marks?”



You could do it to me, if you wanted.



“These lines don’t look right.” I pointed in the general direction of my paper since all the lines on it were fucked up.



Luz eyed my picture with unsuccessfully masked, but not cruel, distaste. I didn’t fault him for this, however, since it was obvious to anyone that I clearly was not cut out for art. “Um, well. I think you need to put the picture into perspective. You see, this, uh… This tree here-”



“It’s a banana.”



Yes, my project has a banana in it. Surprised? Didn’t think so.



“Oh. Right. Of course. Well, the banana is behind these two… pears?”



“Plums.”



Uh huh. It’s a discreetly hidden penis drawing made with fruit. Only discreetly hidden because no one can tell what I was sketching in the first place.



“Yes. Plums. Anyway, it’s behind them, so it needs to be drawn slightly smaller than it would normally be, and also at an angle because it is facing the long way towards the viewer. Like this.”



He drew a couple lines on a piece of scrap paper to demonstrate, effectively creating with stick drawings what I could not with actual things. Unfortunately, he also seemed to realize what it was my sketch was actually supposed to be.



Oops.



“Um. Mr. Marks?” His cheeks had turned a light shade of pink. Delicious.



“Yes, Professor?”



“Er. Never mind,” he mumbled, apparently deciding that I could not possibly be drawing a penis and therefore that he had only imagined it.



“Okay, Professor.”



From the expression on Michael’s face - he had sneakily been watching us for the last couple minutes - my super-stalker smile was back full force with my glee at having efficiently flustered Luz.



Happy and full to the brim with ideas for the next time I met up with the sexy teacher, I packed up my things and practically skipped from the classroom, a rather gloomy Michael in my wake.



ooooooooooooo



“Shit, man. I forgot my ring in the art room.” Michael had a habit of removing his class ring before using his hands with any messy sort of medium - like charcoal.



“Then go back and get it. I’ll wait here,” I offered, quite willing to perform such a small favor since I was feeling especially amiable.



“Nah, it’s okay. You go on ahead and I’ll catch you in the parking lot.”



With a small wave my friend had turned on his heel and was speed-walking in the direction from which we had just come. I shook my head in exasperations as his baggy khaki pants almost succeeded in tripping him up. One of these days I was going to have to take Michael shopping for real clothes.



Meanwhile, unbeknownst to me, my own outfit (completely hot in every way, just so you know) had conspired to kill me, and the next thing I knew I was half-rolling, half-free falling down a very unforgiving set of stairs. I came to a sudden stop at the cold, hard landing, my head throbbing so painfully it felt like I was experiencing the worst hangover of my life. I even had the pressing urge to vomit all over the floor.



“Oh my God. Kill me.”



“With what?”



“Excuse me?” I had no idea there was another person on the landing.



“You said to kill you. I asked what with.”



Oh, a fucking comedian. Just great.



I spat back, “Fuck you,” with all the venom I could muster. Considering my injured and addled mind, I was quite proud of the level of animosity I managed to harbor.



My company made an offended noise. “Whatever. It was just a joke. God.”



I didn’t answer, too busy trying to force the rabbit operated jackhammers in my mind to quit working, and wondering what in the world had caused my messy spill from above in the first place.



“Next time why don’t you try tying your shoes,” not-funny-asshole-whom-I-still-refused-to-look-at-or-acknowledge said.



… Shit.



“Titus?”



Michael! My savior. Again.



For the second time that day my friend hauled me onto my feet. “What happened?”



“Fell down,” I muttered angrily, glaring at my mutinous shoelaces. I felt a rush of childlike impertinence coming on.



“Well, duh. But like, how?”



“Laces.”



“What? Oh. Yeah, okay. Well, tie them.”



“No.”



“Why not?”



“Don’t wanna.”



I heard a snort. It wasn’t Michael.



“Oh, hey there, John! I didn’t even see you.”



“Yeah, whatever.”



Finally, my natural curiosity could be contained no longer, and I looked up to see the other source of my annoyance. Oh.



This so-called “John” was not what I had expected. The bored and obvious “back-off” tone in his voice suggested black hair falling in his face, pale skin, dark clothes, and dozens of piercings. The typical emo, loner kid. John was not these things. He was a blonde with curls that bounced slightly when he shifted his weight from one sneaker-clad foot to the other. He wore a green hoodie and regular blue jeans. His skin was not tan, but neither was it an unhealthy pale shade. And (as far as I could see) his body was free of jewelry and any other accessories.



Actually, he looked a lot like-



“Titus, this is John Cornwall. Sarena’s brother.”



Ah ha. Twins, perhaps? Suddenly, I was much more intrigued. I had made it part of my high school career’s work to help Michael bag Sarena, and getting close to a family member would be a great way to start such a goal. The two boys already knew each other. Developing a friendship couldn’t be too hard, could it?



I donned a charming smile and held out a manicured hand. “Charmed.”



John glared at my hand like it was the cause of all his unhappiness. Or like it had, you know, chopped off his puppy’s penis or something. God. “Whatever.”



Anti-social, much? I hoped he wouldn’t take out an axe and start chasing us around the school. People with anti-social disorders did that kind of thing, right? In any case, I didn’t think I could get very far with my shoes untied.



“Anyway, we should get going. My mom wants me home soon. Later, John!” Michael grabbed my extended limb and dragged me away from my new acquaintance. We traipsed to the student parking lot and got into Michael’s silver little sports car.



“So he’s Sarena’s brother?”



“Yeah. They’re twins.”



I thought so.



“Real different though,” Michael added, turning on his right blinker as we neared the exit of the lot.



“How so?”



“Well, Sarena is all… You know.”



I did know. And I really didn’t want Michael to start off on a ‘Sarena Cornwall owns the universe’ tangent again, so I nodded.



“And John just isn’t. I mean, he’s not a bad guy or anything. But he’s pretty shy and likes to be by himself a lot. It takes a lot for him to get to like someone, but other than that he’s really not bad.”



“I see.”



So John was a loner. Interesting. Although that did complicate things a lot. It was rather difficult to convince a hermit to come out of his shell. I started pondering the multiple ways in which I could show the blonde that he would benefit from being close to Michael, then stopped shortly after and mentally sighed.



My to-do list had grown considerably since moving to Marshbrook Hill. In one short week I had added the following: fuck a teacher, take Michael shopping and ask if he had ever gotten laid, attempt to prick Emilee T’s hooters to see if they popped, and make Sarena fall in love with Michael after getting her brother to buddy up with the guy so they could talk about pussy and eat pizza or whatever else it was that straight men did in groups. Hopefully Michael would have the sense not to talk about Sarena’s pussy in front of John, though. I got the feeling that wouldn’t go over well.



Jesus. This year was not going to be a walk in the park.



ooooooooooooo



Ohsnap. Quick update. You know why?



No, OHOLYONE, plz enlighten uz.



Why, of course, my dear children. You see, the first three chapters of DNFDS are already complete. That means one more quick update after this... and then you have to deal with my unfortunately slow real updating speed.



Thank you, reviewaaahhsss.



Riley Face - Mwahaha. Your comment makes me happy. Roflcakes for youz.



j.s - Titus\' name is pronounced "Tie-tuss". I think it sounds cool, too. :DDD





Chapter three coming to you tomorrow. I can haz review now plz?