Motorbike

Returning to the “normal” school schedule was the exact opposite of fun. Waking up at the unholy hour of seven, Alex rolled out of bed, bemoaning the state of affairs that declared school should exist. He stumbled through his morning routine, stubbing his toe a couple of times crossing the threshold to the bathroom as he kept leaving things around the house and having to fetch them back and forth.



It was, to say the least, a nuisance.



I’m not awake. I’m not awake. I’m not awake. Shit, where’d I put the toothpaste?



He found it lying on the stairs just outside the bathroom. Huh, that’s funny. I don’t remember moving it. Eh, whatever.



Dad was in the kitchen poking at the omelet pan when Alex finally got everything together all the way. He shuffled out from the hallway by his bedroom and gave him a glassy-eyed stare as a “Good morning” substitute.



Dad only nodded silently in response.



Alex stifled a yawn and dragged himself into the dining room to devour a bowl of cereal. He was sore. It’s been longer than I thought since I last played bottom, he mused. Always topped when Jonas wanted to play… His thoughts drifted back to his ex-boyfriend for a little bit. In some ways, it was a tad depressing to be starting over, but realistically, Alex realized he’d only known the other city kid for a few months.



Still, that was the longest I ever spent in one place. Too bad he’s a distance commitment-phobe. Although - Alex smirked a bit to himself. Recalling Jonas’ sexual appetite, it made sense for them to have left each other. I don’t think he could have survived just talking via webcam and not actually being touched.



As to himself, Alex guessed the same was probably true. So what does that make me? Other than a complete sexaholic?



He dropped the line of thought and tuned in to the sound of Dad’s voice.



“Did you want a ride to school? You’re going to be late if you walk.”



Shit.



“Yeah, thanks, Dad.”



XXXXX



He cut it really close. First period he just made. The bell rang quite literally the second he stepped into the classroom, almost as if it had been impatiently waiting on him. The teacher looked up and made a face, motioning for him to take his seat. A few of the others in the class shot him congratulatory looks, as if making it on time by such a slim margin was a feat of genius.



If I could play it up that it was genius, he thought, covering a yawn, I would. I’d like to be a genius. Someday.



The desk looked like it would make a nice pillow, but even when he put his head down on it, he found that the soreness in his posterior made anything other than shut-eyed time impossible. Sleep was out of the question, so he just focused on the teacher’s droning voice, trying in vain to block out the ache.



What did Ni tell me the first time I played bottom? “The best cure for sore muscles is more of what made them sore…” Yeah, that was it. I don’t think she quite meant for me to bring over another guy that night, though…



The mere fact that he was already considering finding another partner played a little roughly on his mental state. He wasn’t exactly the most devoted of boyfriends, or fuck-buddies or whatever, but he did pride himself on the fact that he didn’t pull one-night stands. Even if he never touched the other guy again, he did make it a point to get to know him a little better.



Like that kid in South Africa. I remember how people complained about him… He’d been about twelve at the time, and hadn’t quite understood what the hullabaloo was about. It made more sense now, though, removed from the situation and quite a few years older.



“Alexander, if you are going to sleep in my class, I suggest you find your way to the principal’s office this minute.”



Alex winced. Great. Caught sleeping. He stood up and offered a slight bow of his head towards the teacher. “Of course.” He paused to gather his things, made his way to the door and stopped.



“Is there a problem?” the teacher demanded.



“Actually,” Alex answered, turning and leaning casually on the door, “there is. Where the hell is the principal’s office?”



The teacher’s right eye made a funny, twitching motion, and there was no answer. Alex shrugged and walked the rest of the way out the door. I guess he doesn’t know either. Well, if no one tells me where the principal’s office is, and this is such a huge building, it can hardly be expected that I’ll be able to find it on my own.



Instead of wandering aimlessly, the most logical thing to do seemed to be to head for a room he knew would be there. Again, logically, the only room that made sense – considering it would definitely be vacant first period – was the lunch room. Alex started for the nearest set of stairs, taking them down towards the cafeteria.



I wonder how they trace misplaced students? he wondered idly.



XXXXX



The bell rang again. It’s…fourth period? Fifth? He couldn’t remember. He knew for a fact he must have dozed off, because the clock had been jumping hours with irregular efficiency. It was nearly time for lunch itself.



No one even came looking for me, he thought, slightly amused at the laxity of the school’s system. I probably could have just gone home.



Back at his old school in the city, L’Académie d’Enfer, losing a student was near impossible. There were so many security measures in a big city that were lacking in a rural district like this one. Alex was grateful though, because even if he could sneer at the system that had let him slip away so easily, it had allowed him to catch some rest.



Now the million dollar question: do the pros outweigh the cons? He decided they did, especially if he was going to keep getting kicked out of class first period every day.



Although, I should probably stop making a habit of that, considering the fact that these people said something about weekly progress reports… Dad won’t be happy if I come home with Absent scrawled across every period before lunch. While wondering exactly how he would explain that, considering the fact his father had dropped him off at the school gates himself that morning, Alex heard the steadily growing sound of feet on the stairs coming down towards the cafeteria. He moved so he was facing the inrush of people, giving them all looks daring them to mention anything about the fact he was here already.



He got a couple odd looks from some of the earliest arrivals, but nothing that was too accusing. Well, not until the girl with the air sprites came and chased him away from “her” table. He considered refusing, but she was so adamant about it that eventually he gave up and floated over towards the table with the red-head. She was beckoning furiously - You don’t need to wave with your whole body; I can see your hand just fine - and pointing at an empty seat. Three was conspicuously absent again.



I guess that’s whose place I’ve taken in the permanent records, Alex mused. He was halfway to Lenna’s table when he stopped, surprised at a hand holding onto the strap of his book bag, halting forward progression. He followed the hand to the arm to the owner, sitting quite alone at a table and pointedly not looking at him.



Inward fireworks went off and he disregarded all of Lenna’s continued efforts to catch his attention. As Alex dropped into a seat, he appraised the math geek who’d stopped him. His hair was still just as carelessly messy as that first day, giving him a freshly tousled look.



“Why do you keep getting yourself tossed out of first?”



It took a moment for the question to register, because the math geek still wasn’t looking at him, and seemed to be talking to the equation he was solving. When it did hit him, Alex shrugged. “I guess he just doesn’t like me.” It was as honest an answer as he could come up with.



Clear, pale blue-grey eyes looked up. “That’s not a very good reason for getting yourself thrown out two days in a row.”



Alex blinked. “Before you start lecturing me, can you tell me your name?”



“Drake Savage.” He didn’t even look up from his paper.



“I’m – ”



“Alexander Nexus. I know,” Drake interrupted. Those crystal eyes were still focused on his math paper. Alex frowned.



“Why are you so…” He struggled to find a word. “So interested in my being kicked out? I already know the material. It’s not like I’m missing anything.”



Drake looked up sharply. “Well, the rest of us don’t.”



What does that have to do with anything?



The other boy looked back down and scribbled out a few complex looking equations across the margins of his paper. “Look, Brewer isn’t that great a teacher in the first place, but he has a habit of complaining. When he kicked you out the first day, he whined to us about manners for the rest of the period. Same thing today. I’m in his class for history, not etiquette. No to mention,” he added, punching a few buttons on the calculator next to him, “a few of us are taking an advanced test in a few months on this stuff, and we’d like to be reasonably prepared for it.”



“Oh.” It was the best answer he could come up with on such short notice. Promising to not get kicked out of class didn’t exactly float his boat, and he wasn’t so sure he could deliver on it, either.



Drake looked back up. “That’s all I wanted to tell you. You can go sit with bitch and company now.”



“And if I don’t want to move?” Alex challenged.



Shrug. “Whatever.”



Not exactly the open and friendly guy I’d been hoping he would be, Alex mused to himself. He shrugged and pulled out his sketchpad, figuring now was as good a time as any to do something interesting with shading, considering such an intriguing subject was sitting bare inches away from him.



About three fourths into sketching the outline, he was aware the other was taking a vague interest in what he was doing. He didn’t bother using an arm to shield the paper. For one thing, it would only smudge the delicate layers of graphite he was laying down. For another, he wasn’t the least shy about things he did well, and he did have quite a bit of artistic talent.



“What are you drawing?”



And…often times, subjects seemed to be fascinated by what he was doing, giving an even more realistic appearance to the picture once he captured that slightly glass-eyed look on the page properly.



“A person,” Alex answered, making sure to keep his reply clipped and obscure, but looking up to make it obvious exactly who it was that was going down.



Drake made a funny sound and leaned up and forward. “That’s…” He hesitated, as if afraid to make an accusation. “That’s…me, isn’t it?”



Alex nodded, looking back up to get the right placement of the eyebrows from the angle. Damn but it’s hard to draw when a subject keeps moving.



“Why are you drawing me?” Drake seemed honestly confused, as if he couldn’t imagine a reason at all to be an artist’s subject matter.



Alex shrugged. “Well, I already did one of you, and it turned out okay, so I thought I’d try again. Not all my people pictures work out very well.” A bit of graphite took a stray turn and ruined what could have been a decently done picture. “Like that for example,” he said, talking to the page as he pulled his bag up in an attempt to retrieve his special kneaded eraser from its confines.



The brunet-blond leaned forward further, craning his head at an odd angle to get a better view of the picture. Alex turned it, negating the movement. “See? This right here,” he said, tapping the page with his finger. “This is an imperfection, and it’s going to keep this from being a great picture. It could still make a good one though, if I can salvage it.”



This was where the eraser came in handy. After breaking it apart, Alex twisted the top into a tiny section and dabbed lightly at the paper, drawing the errant smudge away carefully. It still left ghost traces of itself – impossible to rid the paper entirely of markings, but it would do for now.



He could tell Drake wasn’t following his ramblings, but that was okay, because just sitting there with the other staring in a confused manner was giving him ideas for other artistic pieces. I promised Ni I’d do her a piece with a few of the Greek gods, he mused. I wonder if I can get him to pose for me? Well…it’s worth a try anyway.



“Hey,” he said, surprised a bit when the other boy jumped slightly at the sound of his name.



“What?” Drake asked, drawing back to his seat like a turtle withdrawing to the safety of its shell.



Alex pulled the paper back and flipped it over. “My sister is a fan of my artwork, and she’s the most reliable commissioner I’ve got. She asked for a piece of the Greek gods, but I’m no good at sketching from my head. Can I use you?”



The slight – and only slight - innuendo made him smirk inwardly, but outwardly, he was all ears, waiting for a yes or now. Acceptance or rejection.



Tentatively, it seemed, Drake offered him a blank looked nod. “Do I have to do anything stupid?”



“Just sit there, really,” Alex answered him. “If you want to just do your homework, that’s fine. I just need a brief outlining, and then I can get in the rest of the details later.”



He meant he would use a real Greek model for the rest of the features, but Drake frowned. “You said you don’t have talent for drawing from memory. Shouldn’t I just sit for the whole thing?”



If you sit for the whole thing, I may have to jump you at the end of it, Alex answered mentally. Because after staring at you for a few hours worth of time, I don’t think I could resist. Stupid hormones.



Thoughts about hormones sent his mind back to wave around Ace for a little bit. Apparently the subject made him look depressed, because Drake asked him almost immediately if things were all right. He replied with a bright look and nodded towards the math paper. “Do your homework. I’ll start.”



XXXXX



By the time the final lunch bell rang, Alex had a very well-done sketch, even by his own exacting standards. I almost don’t want to give this one to Ni, he realized s he slipped it into the special drawing folder he kept in his bag. I can always do a picture of Zeus and all them from Olympus on my own time from the library books. I think I’m keeping this particular one for myself.



Not that he wouldn’t show it to Ni to get her criticism and other helpful remarks on the work – he always did that. But, he planned on making it perfectly clear that while there was a bit of a Greek god residing in this particular portrait, it wouldn’t be her Greek.



Drake hadn’t been any more friendly as the lunch break continued on. Alex hadn’t exactly minded, which surprised him. Actually, he’d expected to be fighting rampaging hormones from sitting next to the other for a prolonged period of time, but nothing of the sort happened. In fact, whenever he started to really stare at Drake and wonder what he’d be like to touch or taste, the image of Ace came drifting back to him, like some weird clip from a bad romance movie.



Yeah, we had a really good night, and I’m planning on going to see him next weekend, but what the fuck! Get out of my head!



Unfortunately, bad movie clips weren’t inclined to listen, and so throughout the process – and the rest of the day, really – Alex found himself randomly assaulted by different images of Ace. Some were innocent enough…and others weren’t at all.



He supposed there was nothing he could really do about it besides try to shake it off and just keep up with the rest of the class, meandering through lessons like they were miniature rivers with gentle rapids every so often. Vaguely, he wondered how any of these classmates of his would fare in tougher circumstances.



Put just one of these people in my kind of neighborhood for just an hour, and see what happens. Classic entertainment.



When the final bell tolled, he gathered up his things and let the masses drag him out into the waiting lounge. Almost immediately, Lenna and her hangers-on mobbed him, demanding to know why he hadn’t taken lunch with them. Alex was sorely tempted to just ignore their squawking in favor of working a bit more on his sketch outline, but it seemed that they weren’t inclined to let him.



“You, like, just don’t do that to people, you know?” Lenna cooed at him, like he was an exceptionally bad student and she was trying to give him a lesson in life.



Hang on, little girl. I could give you a lesson you wouldn’t soon forget. Ace might swing sideways, but that doesn’t mean the whole biker gang does. With that odd thought in his head, Alex wondered – dismissing how insane the idea actually was – what it would take to get Ni to bring him and a maybe One or Two into the city that weekend.



“Lynn Shartur, your ride is waiting.”



Three scooped up her belongings and vanished.



Even as he watched her go, Alex flipped the idea over and examined it for any cracks or obvious flaws. Ni would be against it. That was one that stood out, but with a little glue and some sweet words, he was sure he could convince her of the merits of accidentally destroying one of the cheerleader harem.



Well, no time like the present for sending out invites.



Lenna was still flapping at the mouth, while One and Two stood beside her, little frozen minions with faux smiles plastered on their faces. Alex stood and linked arms with them, pulling them away from Lenna. She looked confused for a moment, and opened her mouth to keep speaking.



He drew back, smirking a bit, then addressed the girl on his right arm, “Would you,” and his left, “both of you,” another smirk, “care to join me on an excursion this weekend? I’m going into the city.”



Instant mayhem.