Dandruff

School had ended an hour and some ago. The hallways were virtually empty, save for janitors, students in detention, and teachers who stayed behind to fuck their co-workers on their desks, making cheesy puns and abusing rulers. Or at least that’s what Jacob assumed the staff did. Sue him; he was bored out of his mind and he was left to his own devices for amusement. He’d put together a makeshift lounge using the chairs outside the music room, his backpack providing a rather uncomfortable pillow for his head and neck.

He cursed quietly, damning Russell’s stupid orchestra rehearsal to hell. Apparently his pseudo-boyfriend-person was a gifted violinist, something Russell had failed to mention until after school when Jacob was waiting by his car. The older boy had nonchalantly shrugged as he retrieved his violin case from the backseat, telling Jacob he was free to leave if he didn’t want to wait for him. However, Jacob was spending the evening at the Laird residence anyway; Miranda was in need of a sitter while her parents attended some hospital fundraiser. Not to mention he’d already packed a change of clothes in his bag. All of this led him to the conclusion that he might as well wait. Too bad he hadn’t estimated he’d be bored to tears in hard plastic chairs as boring, classical music assaulted his ears.
Holy shit. He’d reached the level of boredom where his thoughts rhymed. Thinking like Dr. Seuss was never a good sign.

…And those sentences rhymed, too.

Fuck.

Turning onto his back, he noticed the paint on the ceiling was cracked, readying to peel away. Shocking; the first physical flaw he’d found in these old buildings. He scanned the area for something else to occupy himself with, settling on the adjacent trophy cabinet. It wasn’t as if he had anything else to do. He got up and walked over to it, reading the plaques despite having zero interest in what was on them. Nevertheless, something soon managed to catch his eye. It was an old, framed photograph, discoloured with age. It featured the 1998 rugby team and none other than Phoenix Scofield graced the centre, an arrogant smirk on his face. There was a newspaper snippet from the Harrison Academy Tribunal beside it, describing in exaggerated terms how captain Scofield led the team to victory against some other school. Jacob’s spirit instantly deflated.

Things between him and Phoenix hadn’t improved since that day at the beach house almost two goddamned weeks ago. The man completely shut him out, and it hurt worse than a spinal tap. He didn’t know what to do anymore. He never thought he’d miss abuse, but there it was. He was as sick in the head as he was lovesick.

In an unusual show of kindness from the deity devoted to making his life miserable, the orchestra rehearsal ended before he could completely submerge himself in self-pity. Students filed out, the murmur of their chatter breaking the still air. A small smile formed on his lips when he saw Russell approaching.

“Sorry to keep you waiting. I usually skip these, but we’ve got a concert coming up and attendance is mandatory.”

“It’s okay. You guys sound like a real snore fest, so I think that means you’re on the right track,” Jacob’s smile transformed into a cheeky grin.

“You’re so uncultured,” Russell rolled his eyes in jest, “ready to go?”

“Of course I’m ready. Although I don’t know if I’ll make it all the way to the car; your boring music put my legs to sleep.”

“If you weren’t so gorgeous, you’d be walking home for disrespecting my music like that.”

“Oh please. You just want to take advantage of me at stoplights.”

Russell’s response came in the form of a suggestive, utterly sexy smirk, causing Jacob to blush like a nun in the dildo aisle of a sex shop. He leaned over, his lips grazing the shell of Jacob’s left ear as he whispered, “I hope you’ll let me take advantage of you in my room later, too.”

…Did the temperature just rise by a whole ten degrees or what?

“If you’re good, maybe,” Jacob returned the flirtatious purr, tugging Russell’s tie to bring their faces closer together.

Russell swallowed noisily. “I think we should leave before we get ourselves in trouble.”

“Tease,” Jacob muttered accusingly as he started for the exit, leaving Russell to amble after him.

The sexual tension between them remained for the duration of the car ride to Russell’s house, and even the AC couldn’t cool Jacob down. Anticipation thrummed in his body every time Russell subconsciously licked his lips, and watching him shift gears suddenly became an erotic experience. He’d always known gear sticks were phallic but DAMN. He knew he was being silly but it wasn’t his fault; being this hard-up gave him the inability to think of anything but fucking. He needed some sort of attention he could understand, and sex was something he was fluent in. After all, was it not the universal language? Time was almost at a standstill until they pulled into the driveway. And then things were back to normal; his libido was kicked forcefully to the back of his mind thanks to seeing Miranda playing with the German shepherd in the backyard. Well, playing was perhaps too strong a word. She was trying her best to get a game of fetch going while the pooch lied on his back with his hind legs wide open, basking lazily in the sun’s rays and tanning his balls or something along those weird lines. If Jacob didn’t know better, he would swear the bloody dog was dead; he’d never seen it do anything. As soon as they disembarked the vehicle, Miranda bounded over to them.

“You’re late! I was home by myself for… like…ever!” she complained, her tone whiny.

Russell released a long-suffering sigh. “Miranda, didn’t Dad tell you not to go outside when no one’s home with you?”

“Allie’s here!” she supplied cheerily before skipping over to Jacob and wrapping her arms around his lower back. “I missed you soooo much, Jacob! I have a new Barbie we can play with!”

Jacob was saved from answering since Russell yanked the girl off him. “I wasn’t done talking to you, Miranda. Your stupid, imaginary friend does not count as someone being here with you. And you know that. What if something happened to you?”

“You’re hurting my arm, Russell,” Miranda pouted, tears glimmering behind her glasses.

“Don’t you think you’re being too hard on her?” Jacob intervened. Miranda took his intervention as a sign to run over to him and slip her tiny hand into his.

“I like Jacob better than you; you’re mean!” she stuck her tongue out at her brother. She started pulling Jacob in the direction of the front door.

Jacob looked over his shoulder and said, “I guess this means we’re going inside now?”

“Looks like Mini Hitler has decided that’s what we’re doing,” Russell sent Miranda an irritated look as he turned the doorknob and discovered it was unlocked.

“Who’s Hitler?” Miranda looked up at Jacob expectantly.

Jacob knew he wasn’t the most tactful person in the world, and he didn’t exactly want to lose his job over saying something he shouldn’t, so he turned to Russell. “I don’t know. Who is Hitler, Russell?”

Russell didn’t miss a beat. “Hitler was a bad man who didn’t like Jews.”

“I met a Jewish girl at camp last summer. She was nice,” Miranda frowned.

“You would’ve met her in a concentration camp if Hitler had his way.”

“Are concentration camps fun?”

“Ask Mom and Dad when they get home,” Russell patted her head with a positively evil, little smile.

“Okay!” she chirped, running into the living room and reaching for the remote. “Mom said you have to make dinner.”

Russell grunted in acknowledgement as he kept walking.

“I don’t think that was the best answer to give her on the Hitler thing,” Jacob snickered quietly as he followed Russell into the kitchen.

“It shut her up, didn’t it?” Russell grinned. “Would you mind if I ordered pizza?”

“Pizza’s cool.”

“What toppings do you want?”

“Anything except anchovies and pubic hair.”

“…Pubic hair?”

“I come from a really bad neighbourhood. I’ve seen things no man should see,” he shook his head gravely. “Hey, is there a bathroom down here I can change out of this uniform in?”

“Why don’t you just change here? I like a striptease as much as the next guy.”

And just like that the sexual tension came back at full blast. Jacob couldn’t say that he didn’t feel like throwing Russell onto the table and having his wicked way with him… Logic had a problem with his fantasy, of course.

“I don’t think you want Miranda walking in on that…”

“Good point. There’s a half bathroom near the living room if that’s okay with you.”

“Okay, I’ll be right back.”

The rubber ducky on the bathroom counter had a downright depraved expression as it watched Jacob undress. It was unnerving, and if he didn’t know better, he would’ve sworn it just winked at him. He turned it to face the other direction. The other direction turned out to be the mirror, which meant the duck was watching his reflection disrobe, and somehow that was even creepier.

In the end, he decided to back both the mirror and the damned bath toy; out of sight, out of mind and all that malarkey. He scrunched the shirt and tie into a ball and shoved them into his backpack, bending quite a few books in attempt to have everything fit. He then unbuckled his belt, doing a little shimmy so that his pants fell to his ankles. As fate would have it, the bathroom door flew open. He spun immediately, hoping with all his might that Miranda wasn’t behind him. Miranda was behind him. How did he forget to lock the door with that gremlin lurking in the shadows? Curse Russell for scrambling his brain.

A large, goofy smile lit up the girl’s flushed face. “Can I touch your butt? It looks so squishy!”

“…Squishy? Are you calling me fat?” Jacob had a feeling that that was not the reaction he should’ve had. Yet he was staring at his ass in the mirror anyway. Was that why Phoenix didn’t want him anymore? Had he gained weight? Well, he was eating better than he ever had been… He pinched a buttock. It wasn’t rock hard, but it wasn’t squishy, either. Had it always been that way? He smacked it and watched it jiggle a bit. It. Fucking. Jiggled.

He released a surprised yelp when smaller fingers joined in the ass evaluating festivities.

“Let go, you little pervert!” he grabbed her hand and tried to pry it off, which only led to his boxers revealing a sizeable chunk of his posterior. As usual, everything went downhill from there. He pivoted away from her in an effort to thwart the peepshow, but his feet were tangled in his pants and he hobbled a bit, slipping on the strap of his backpack before completely losing his footing. He reached out for the towel rack on the wall in a desperate effort to save himself, but it snapped clean off with a loud crack! His fall was cushioned a bit by the plush carpeting, but the pain of both Miranda and the solid brass towel rack plummeting onto his chest cancelled that out. His life had flashed before his eyes, and he was disappointed to discover that he hadn’t been delivered from his pathetic existence.

“Jesus Christ,” he wheezed, trying to catch his breath.

“Swearing is bad,” Miranda pointed out uselessly, brushing the curls out of his face.

“Why are you even on me? You let go before I fell…”

“I just wanted to be close to you,” she batted her eyelashes at him.

On the bright side, if he was a paedophile, life would’ve been much easier. Little girls fell from the heavens and onto his exposed body! He didn’t even have to lure them with candy or anything. He was a jailbait pussy magnet.

…For some unfathomable reason, that wasn’t at all uplifting.

Half an hour later found them in the living room, a box of pepperoni pizza open on the coffee table. Miranda sat on the floor, picking the pepperoni off and popping it into her mouth as she watched Leave It to Beaver. Who would’ve thought she’d enjoy 1950’s sitcoms? Jacob was sprawled on the couch, already on his third slice.

“I don’t know how you managed to break the screws on that towel rack. It took me forever to find replacements,” Russell said as he lifted Jacob’s legs to make room for himself on the couch.

Jacob smiled sheepishly, propping his feet up on Russell’s lap. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s no problem; it was an easy fix. Just try not to break anything else,” Russell shook his head amusedly as he retrieved a slice of pizza. “Miranda, you’re supposed to eat that with the toppings on it.”

“But I don’t like cheese,” she made a face at her brother.

“Yes, you do. You eat Mac and Cheese all the time.”

“No, I don’t.”

“No one likes a liar, Miranda.”

“I don’t like cheese on pizza then.”

“You’re being very unreasonable today.”

“Mom says I’m witty.”

“…Do you even know what that word means?”

Jacob couldn’t help but be entertained by the siblings’ banter. As much as Russell acted like he couldn’t stand a bone in Miranda’s body, it was obvious that he definitely cared about her. The dynamic of their relationship was adorably fascinating, even if Miranda was a tad touched in the head. Then again, so was Russell. He’d always secretly envied those with familial bonds. He wasn’t always as jaded as he was now; like every other kid he’d seen those Christmas specials on TV with big families huddled around the fireplace singing carols and sipping hot chocolate and wearing tacky, matching sweaters… He’d wished for the same, but lacking any other family but a drugged up mother who sometimes mentioned her own mother in varying degrees of contempt wised him up to reality at a young age. Russell didn’t realise how lucky he was to have parents who gave a damn and a sister who loved him.

These random bouts of depression were getting kind of tiring. The bottle he’d crammed all of his insecurities into was cracking, its contents seeping out and slowly poisoning him. And so he went from thinking like a Dr. Seuss story to an entry in XxXemofaggotblacktears666XxX’s livejournal. He honestly didn’t know which was worse.

“Are you alright?” Russell broke his train of thought, a concerned look on his face.

“Uh, yeah, why do you ask?”

“You’ve been catatonic for a while now.”

“Oh,” he observed his surroundings, a confused frown forming. “Where’s Miranda?”

“She’s getting ready for ballet class. Her ride should be here any minute now.”

“Ballet class?” Jacob parroted stupidly.

“I’m guessing Carol forgot to tell you. Miranda has ballet class at six for an hour and forty-five minutes on Fridays. Her friend’s mom who lives a few houses down takes them.”

“Oh.”

“It’ll just be you and me for a little bit.”

“Russell?”

“Yeah?”

“I think today’s a great day to take our relationship to the next level.”

Russell choked on his own saliva, taken by surprised. “What?”

“I’m serious. We’ve been taking it slower than molasses, which has been great and all, but I want you to fuck me. Today.”

“Are you sure…?” although his eyes darkened with arousal, he sounded dubious.

“You don’t want to?”

“Of course I want to! It’s just that… this seems so sudden. You wanted to wait and now you’re brazenly soliciting me…”

“Look, I’ve made a lot of bad choices in my life. You’re one of the few things that might actually be good for me. Trust me on this; I won’t regret it,” Jacob pressed a chaste kiss to Russell’s lips. “Please?”

Russell’s lips brushed against his before they were forced to separate; a horn honked loudly outside. With a disgruntled groan, Russell stood and made his way over to the window to see who was outside.

“Miranda, Ashleigh and her mom are outside!” he bellowed.

Almost instantaneously, Miranda skipped down the stairs, wearing a pink leotard, purple stockings with quite the run on the left leg, and a pair of beat up sneakers which lit up with every step, dragging a comically oversized, green gym bag behind her. Russell glowered at her for cock blocking him once again.

“Those aren’t ballet shoes,” Russell massaged his temple. “You know what? I don’t care. Lock the door on your way out.”

“Kay! See you later, Jacob!” she blew a kiss at her babysitter and then disappeared with an extraordinarily inelegant jump. The sound of a vase breaking and a yelled ‘sorry!’ followed. Something told Jacob she didn’t have a very bright future in ballet.

No sooner than Miranda had slammed the front door shut, did Jacob push Russell down onto the couch with a determined look in his eyes, dropping to his knees and pushing the thin thighs open.

“It’s only fair I return the favour, right?” he winked salaciously as he unzipped Russell’s school pants. There was something so much kinkier about the fact that his partner was still clad in his uniform sans the blazer and tie. Russell lifted his hips, allowing Jacob to slide the slacks down his legs where they were carelessly kicked aside.

Jacob had to stop himself from moaning at the sight of Russell’s engorged cock, the steel barbell adorning the head so close to his mouth that he could almost feel it. With shaky hands, he unbuttoned Russell’s shirt and parted it, revealing a leanly muscled torso and the delectable tattoo.

“Fuck,” Russell whispered harshly as Jacob’s lips pressed against his inked flesh, his tongue darting out as if to taste the detailed portrayal of sleek, black wings. Jacob mentally stored that erogenous zone for later encounters as he gave the warm skin a final nip.

He firmly grasped Russell’s throbbing arousal, pumping it in his hand as he flicked the barbell experimentally with his tongue. He could tell Russell liked it by the way his thighs tensed and his hips thrust forward. Very hot. Deciding he was being a bit cruel, he lowered his head, successfully taking more of the shaft into his mouth.

Long fingers tread through his hair encouragingly. His sucked hard enough for his cheeks to hollow while his fingers kneaded Russell’s tightening scrotum. His eyes flickered upwards and he found himself entranced by the sheer intensity of the lustful gaze which greeted him. He worked his mouth up and down, occasionally using his tongue to play with the piercing, which seemed to be driving Russell wild if the husky, incoherent whispers were any indication.

Gaining a bit of courage, Russell pushed Jacob’s head down gently, forcing more of his cock into the slick, warm cavity. It was delightfully obscene the way Jacob’s cherry red lips stretched around the base of his dick, vulgar slurping noises providing a soundtrack for an episode of the Andy Griffith Show. His hips were thrusting on their own volition, moving to an animalistic, offbeat rhythm. Jacob made such a pretty picture, his hair falling into his face in a false impression of innocence as he allowed Russell to ravage his mouth. His eyes were closed and his cheeks flushed as he focused on what he was doing. Christ, this was too much.

“Stop,” Russell breathed out.

Jacob reclined on his haunches, peering curiously at the other boy. “What’s wrong?” his voice was slightly scratchy for obvious reasons. “…You still think I’m going too fast, don’t you?”

“Sort of…”

Jacob frowned. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean,” Russell paused for dramatic effect, “that you’re going to make me cum if you keep doing that and I don’t want to until we’re in my room, and you’re on my bed.”

“Oh…” the descriptive imagery created quite the picture in his head.

The speed of light was given a run for its money with the way they bolted up the flight of steps. Russell had thrown his shirt off on the landing, but Jacob could not pinpoint the exact moments where his own clothes had been discarded, nor did he know which of them was to blame for their disappearance. However a look back revealed that his shirt had been thrown over the staircase’s banister. He entertained thoughts of playing a game of ‘Hey, Ma, I can see my clothes from here!’, but Russell had other ideas. Lips clashed; Russell’s arousal piqued further at the taste of himself on Jacob’s tongue. Hands groped desperately as they fumbled a clumsy waltz to Russell’s bedroom. The door was closed and Russell barely managed to break their intimate contact long enough to open it.

They shuffled over to the bed where Russell pushed Jacob onto his back and resumed kissing the breath from his lungs. He latched a leg around Russell’s hips and grinded their erections together, the cool metal of the piercing creating a different and totally enjoyable sensation against his own fraenulum. A pleasured hiss escaped him, his fingernails digging into broad, pale shoulders. He didn’t miss the pleased smirk Russell’s curtain of inky hair failed to hide. The grinded against each other like the horny teenagers they were, lost in the heat of the moment, heady with excitement. The deity who hated Jacob seemed to have roused from his slumber, because the telephone on the desk rang, the other phones in the house blaring in unison.

“Shit, it’s probably one of my parents,” Russell said apologetically as he scrambled off Jacob to answer the phone.

Jacob exhaled loudly. If he wasn’t already lying down, a theatrical flop onto the bed would’ve been in order, maybe even a ‘woe is me!’ routine.
Russell rolled his eyes when he saw the caller ID, but nonetheless accepted the call.

“Hey, Dad… Yeah, Ashleigh and her mother picked her up already…” it was kind of humorous to watch Russell carry on a conversation with his father whilst naked with a painful looking erection bobbing as he paced impatiently. Actually, that sounded kind of wrong and incestuous. Bah, you get the picture. Russell continued to answer questions exasperatedly, most likely because his father had had similar conversations with him several times before.

He walked back over to the bed, opening a drawer in the headboard and producing an instantly recognisable object—a condom packet. Jacob watched, fascinated, as Russell tore it open with his teeth. If Robert Laird could only see what his wayward son was up to now. Russell’s eyes never left his own as he rolled the condom onto his throbbing member. He then turned to Jacob with a predatory gleam in those arousal-darkened eyes.

“Bye,” Russell said to the man on the other line before he pressed a button and tossed the phone onto one of his pillows. “Now, where were we?”

“I think it’s obvious,” Jacob tartly replied, parting his legs invitingly.

“God, you’re so amazing… Your skin looks so pale and gorgeous against the black sheets…”

“Compliments later, fuck now.”

“Okay, okay, just give me a minute to find the lube—”

Jacob cut him off. “Forget the fucking lube! I can’t wait anymore.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I like it rough, Russell; it won’t be a problem.”

The weak grasp Russell held on restraint snapped. He surged forward and pulled Jacob’s right ankle up into the air, revealing the puckered entrance.

“Fuck, I can’t believe I’m finally going to do this to you,” he was speaking more to himself than to Jacob as he knelt between the younger boy’s splayed thighs.

A startled gasp tore its way through Jacob’s lips when the blunt mushroom head of Russell’s cock nudged at his hole, slowly working its way inside him. He could still feel the barbell almost perfectly, although he was well aware that it’d be so much better if they did this bareback. However, he was too aroused to bother about that minor technicality at a time like this. He wanted, no, needed, to be fucked through the mattress, feel the familiarity of another’s weight on his chest.

Russell’s entry burned quite a bit without the aid of lubricant, but that was exactly what Jacob needed right now. He didn’t want to turn Russell off by demanding something extreme, so rough sex was the next best thing. He’d always been damaged goods, but Phoenix managed to make him almost unmarketable.

Finally Russell’s balls were nestled against his ass; he was all the way in.

“Oh god, move, please!” he desperately rasped, clenching his muscles around the thick intrusion.

“I had no idea you’d be this fucking wild,” Russell immediately started slamming viciously into his pliant body. The penetration still stung like a bitch, and it was for that reason that Jacob’s cock was hard enough to cut diamond, dripping copious amounts of pre-cum onto his stomach. Russell’s nails were digging into his thighs seeing as how he was holding them open as he pounded Jacob with passionate abandon.

The Prince Albert piercing was proving itself to be a worthy opponent. It rubbed against the tender walls as Russell thrust wildly inside him, but when his prostate was finally hit, all hell broke loose. The barbell felt amazing against the sensitive gland, the force with which they collided enough to make his eyes cross temporarily.

“So tight… I’m gonna cum soon,” Russell moaned; his eyes closing as he threw his head back; if he kept watching Jacob he would ejaculate even sooner. The younger boy’s back was arched almost painfully, his ribs appearing as though they wanted to burst through his skin. Dark curls created a messy halo on the bed, barely standing out against the black sheets.

“Harder! I wanna…uh… cum without touching my cock…” Jacob babbled between moans, his index finger and thumb pinching and squeezing a nipple.

With a sudden ferocity, Russell powered into Jacob so hard that it hurt whenever their pelvises crashed. Jacob’s cock was trapped between their stomachs, being stimulated by the friction from Russell’s stomach as he plundered Jacob’s snug heat. He captured Jacob’s lips in an aggressive kiss, his groans being lost in Jacob’s mouth as he climaxed. A few short seconds later, Jacob was coming, too, his seed splattering his own belly.

“You… fuck like a porn star,” Russell chuckled tiredly. He rolled onto his back, his chest heaving as he tried to breathe normally again. Making a face, he peeled the condom off and chucked it in the small trash bin.

“Not what you were expecting?” Jacob turned onto his side to face his bed mate.

“I knew it’d be good, but damn.”

“I seriously have the urge to smoke a cigarette right now.”

Russell snorted.

Now that they’d finally had sex, Jacob didn’t know what to think. It had been good, very good. His body was satisfied, but his neurotic heart was anything but. Why did he have to be so hung up over Phoenix? There he was with a sweet, attractive guy who also happened to be stellar in bed, and he was thinking about his abusive, manipulative guardian.
He had feelings for Russell, but those feelings paled in comparison to whatever he felt towards Phoenix. Russell didn’t deserve to be a substitute. And yet he was the only thing keeping Jacob afloat.

Why did people always want what they could not have? He felt tears burning at the back of his eyes. He refused to cry; it never did him any good. Besides, if he started doing that, Russell would be concerned, and that would only intensify his guilt.

He was a horrible person and he knew it.

==

Phoenix’s nose was buried in the newspaper at the kitchen table, taking a sip of his coffee every once in a while. He was ignoring the room’s other occupant: Jacob. The boy had been stirring a glass of iced tea for almost five minutes now, his green eyes boring twin holes into the back of the attorney’s head. Phoenix had built an invisible wall between them, never saying or doing more than necessary where his ward was concerned. What was his reason for this? It was simple: Jacob fed off his attention no matter how negative it was, and he was well aware of it. What better punishment was there than denying him what he so desperately craved? It served him right for kissing Pilot of all people. He took his time turning the page as noisily as possible, idly wondering if today would finally be the day Jacob had one of his silly mental breakdowns.

“Good morning, you two,” Felicity entered the kitchen; oversized, designer sunglasses perched atop her nose. She lent over to kiss Phoenix on the cheek.

“Morning, babe,” Phoenix replied, knowing it must’ve driven Jacob crazy to see him getting along so fine with his wife while he treated the teenager like a pariah.

“Are you going somewhere?” Jacob asked Felicity despite her dressy blouse and jeans making it obvious.

“Yup, I’m heading off to the hairdresser. I’ve been missing a few appointments and it shows,” she gestured to her hair, which quite frankly looked just as annoyingly perfect as it usually did. Women…

“You look fine to me,” Jacob shrugged, finally sipping his iced tea, only to find that after all that time stirring it, he’d forgotten to add sugar.

“Aren’t you sweet?” Felicity smiled beguilingly as she opened the fridge to retrieve a bottle of water. “I might stop by the grocery store on my way back. Do you guys need anything?”

“No need to do that, Mrs. Scofield,” Juanita joined them. “I was actually about to do the shopping myself. We’re running low on a few things and I have to pick up the dry cleaning anyway.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to inconvenience you…” Felicity frowned uncertainly.

Juanita waved dismissively. “It’s fine.”

“Well, in that case, I might as well go shopping for clothes then! I’ve been looking for a cute, coral summer dress for weeks now… Maybe some shoes to match, and a new bag. I love Saturdays…” she snapped out of her daydream and headed for the exit. “I’ll see you guys later!”

The unpleasant silence returned as soon as Felicity left. Juanita made light conversation, asking Jacob about plans he didn’t have for Spring Break. His life was one big orgy of excitement. Depression was fucking the shit out of ennui while ennui gave kill-yourself a blowjob.

After preparing tacos for lunch, Juanita left to run her errands, leaving Jacob an awkward few hours alone with Phoenix. Before heading up to his room, he grabbed a taco for lack of anything else to do and washed it down with his sugarless, lukewarm iced tea. He’d ended up on the phone with Danica, wanting to give Seppuku a shot as she absentmindedly brought up how great things were going with Marcus in that god-awful dreamy tone, irregardless of what the topic of conversation was. Growing weary of her perfect, little romance, he sarcastically asked if Marcus popped her cherry with his ‘big, black cock’ yet. Not surprisingly, she hung up on him after a few incredulous stammers. He’d take that as a ‘yes’.

Now he had nothing to do but think about his shitty situation, and instead of wading in the kiddie pool of sorrow as has become his usual pastime, he was pissed the fuck off. This reaction was much more in line with the Jacob he knew himself to be, and so he was quite thrilled with the prospect of being furious, which would of course lead to him doing something reckless and perhaps suicidal. This was never a good thing.

He stormed down the stairs, armed with a baseball bat he’d found in one of the hallway closets, nestled amongst other pieces of sporting equipment. He marched into the kitchen with a purpose even Phoenix could not full ignore, because he put his Blackberry on the table and eyed his ward as though the boy had gone mad, sprouted two heads, and shoved a rabid weasel down his pants. Neither of them spoke. Everything about Jacob’s posture pointed to infuriation, the baseball bat serving to emphasise just how angry he was. On the other hand, Phoenix appeared utterly and completely indifferent, aloof, apathetic, and any other synonym one would think of.

“So you’re just going to ignore me forever now?” Jacob began.

“There’s nothing left to say, is there?” Phoenix shrugged unconcernedly.

“Okay, fine. I guess nothing will make you talk to me. What’s a girl to do?” Jacob twirled the bat and exited. Phoenix knew that tone and expression all too well; Jacob was up to something. And that never ended well. The Reign of El Diablo returned from its hiatus. Today apparently was the day Jacob snapped. Shaking his head, he wondered what silly antics the teenager would attempt now.

The Range Rover’s alarm was the last thing he’d expected to hear.

“THAT LITTLE SHIT!”

He was on the porch in an instant, frozen by both rage and disbelief at the sight which greeted him. Jacob, in his ratty jeans and flannel shirt, had broken the rear view mirror on the driver’s side. Chunks of glass were scattered on the ground. He’d fucking HIT PHOENIX’S SUV WITH A BASEBALL BAT.

“What brings you out here, Phoenix?” Jacob taunted. “I thought you were ignoring me. What’s the matter, I’m not so easy to ignore now?”

WAM!
The bat was swung into the driver’s window, completely shattering it.

“Oh my god! I’m possessed by the devil! I’m Emily Rose! It’s a good thing no one cares what I do!” a series of blows were landed on the windshield, successfully breaking that, too. “God, I’m glad this fuckin’ car isn’t mine!”

And that was when Phoenix joined the Snapped Club.

It was as if his rage had made him blank out for a moment. One minute he was in the porch, and the next he was dragging Jacob back inside the house by his hair, throwing him into a wall in the foyer and using his own body to pin him there.

“Have you lost what’s left of your mind?” he seethed.

Jacob glared defiantly. “Fuck you, you selfish, pompous CUNT.”

It wasn’t the most normal catalyst for a kiss, but that’s where it headed. Phoenix shoved his tongue inside Jacob’s mouth, kissing so hard that it was very likely they’d both sport cuts on their lips. They kissed as though they’d been starving in the desert for days and now they’d found an oasis—an oasis they wanted to both possess and destroy.

Everything was happening so fast. Phoenix was fucking him against the wall and it hurt like nothing he’d ever experienced; his insides were still sore and raw from what he and Russell had done the previous day. Phoenix hadn’t even bothered to undress himself fully; he’d just whipped his cock out and shoved it in Jacob with no preparation but spitting in his hand and rubbing it on his prick. Despite all this, Jacob was still very much aroused. He dug his fingers into Phoenix’s shoulders, bouncing hopelessly onto the big cock hammering away at his prostate. It was too much to take, and he’d buried his face in the crook of Phoenix’s neck as they both came. Phoenix had slumped against him and they were panting heavily, making no effort to separate.

When Jacob lifted his head, he was surprised to see a mortified Juanita in the doorway, clutching groceries to her chest.

Jacob had to give her credit; at least she hadn’t dropped anything.


==
The Munez Feed:
First of all, I’d like to blame swine flu, school, lack of talent, and George W. Bush for my absence. Wait, it’s not vogue to blame Bush for everything anymore? Well, this is news to me.

DarkSacrifice: Sorry you had to review so many times. I hope this chapter isn’t too much of a disappointment for you!

sleep-spent-dreaming: I try to represent real life a little where people actually do change going through different things, but at the core they remain themselves. It makes me happy that you can see that!

Oh, so I feel kind of shitty about not being able to reply to reviews because it’s so hard to do on here, but if you want me to reply, indicate! I appreciate them all!

Munez