Playing with Prodigal Sons
folder
Angst › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
2
Views:
2,621
Reviews:
13
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Angst › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
2
Views:
2,621
Reviews:
13
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Playing with Prodigal Sons
Title: Playing with Prodigal Sons
Author: Murron
Notes: Oh god, there are many things to be warned about. First, it\'s m/m!! [and, although not really explicitly stated, kind of implied that the characters are minors]. Second, not really respectful of religion [some imagery and language may offend some people, sorry]. Sort of quasi-non-con-angsty as well. I really don\'t know where this came from, the recesses of my mind are dark and scary. And a nod to Rufus Wainwright for the snazzy title. He rocks!! *subliminally* Buy his albums! Now, on to the masterpiece>>
**
The St. George Academy for Young Men; the place stank of old money and tradition. That was Derek Lance\'s first impression of his new home. It was a huge, aged stone building in the country, L-shaped, one arm of classrooms and instructional labs, another of small, tastefully furnished dorm rooms. Satellite amenities [pool, tennis courts, stables] were grouped around it, connected with cobbled pathways.
A bout of nasty unpleasantness at home had sent him here. His new uniform made him itch. His new blazer, cross on breast pocket, weighed him down as he sat in the headmaster\'s office. The welcome-to-our-school speech. He wasn\'t listening. He was tapping his fingers on the clean pleat of his new pants. And chewing the inside of his lip. And fighting to look interested in the \'good catholic traditions\' that the master was droning on about.
Derek hadn\'t been in a church since he was baptized. But his parents were wealthy enough to pay the tuitions, and gifted enough at lie-weaving to make it past the admissions board. The official line was that Derek had found school at home in New York \'too unstructured\', that his parents were concerned about his \'developing attitude\'. Not entirely the truth, but good enough to get hi aft after school had been in session for almost a month. Once upon a time a boy named Derek was sent to an all-boys Catholic school for dubious reasons, and he lived happily ever after.
He snapped out of his trance as the first bell of the morning rang. The master was standing, holding out his hand for a shake. Derek hauled his stocky, short frame out of the chair and reciprocated, aas ras rewarded with a piece of paper, his schedule of classes. He flicked one shaggy strand of brown hair out of his eye.
He slid out into the sea of boys which flowed through recently-empty halls. Most of them still had sleep in their eyes or damp hair from early showers. He was pulled with the general flow towards his first class.
**
The next few weeks were like a whirlwind dream for Derek, actively forging alliances disguised as friendships and throwing himself into convincingly faking the Catholic faith for the benefit of his teachers.
He managed to squeeze himself stealthily into the sporty group of boys on the sheer merit of his soccer skills and agility. They were the kings of the school, the leaders of the pack. The other cliques looked up to them, or were terribly frightened of them, a fine line really. When one of them was wronged, or perceived to have been wronged, they closed ranks, a tight, cleat-wielding mafia, and took swift care of business.
There are always exceptions, though. Theirs was Alexis Burton. A short, scrappy-looking thing he was, shirt always undone, tie never straight. Even the biggest jocks, the ones who were perpetually lifting weights and sweating in copious amounts, would not take on Alexis. In fact, they all steered clear of him. Derek never really thought to ask why. He didn\'t really take an interest. But Alexis took an interest in him.
**
Derek coming in from the soccer pitch, carrying his jersey in one hand, positively glowing from his exertions. Meets Alexis coming out the front door. Derek\'s way is blocked by the other\'s body for a split second, on purpose. Derek\'s first up-close look at Alexis. Short, slender, curly brown-blond hair, appearing uncomfortably confined in his uniform. Looking as if he would be more comfortable barefoot and shirtless on a beach, skin and scalp gritty with sand.
**
Derek in the computer lab, heonesones on, pecking at the keyboard. When he gets up, he can see Alexis following his movements in the dim reflection of a monitor.
**
Derek going up the deserted stairs, in a daze, late after a last-minute cram session. Alexis coming down, sock-feet, old sweatpants and a tight black tee. The backs of theirs hands brush although there is plenty of space for them to pass with touching. Derek jumps and finds flinty black eyes flicking over his body for an instant.
**
onlyonly class Derek shared with Alexis was Calculus. Alexis sat one row to the right and one seat back, which was nerve-wracking for Derek. He could feel, or at least imagined that he could feel, cool eyes on his back constantly, prodding like icy fingers.
\"Mr. Lance, please do the final question for the class.\" The master looked at him expectantly, and he got up, holding his notebook in one hand. He flipped to the right page and grasped the chalk, copying out his solution in blocky pt opt on the dusty green board, script lined up obsessively straight.
The master nodded as he slid int into his seat. A bit of folded paper poked out from under the corner of his textbook. He unfolded it, trying to keep it hidden in the crook of his arm from the prying eyes behind him.
\"I know why you\'re here.\" Scratched messily in black ball-point pen. Derek\'s head filled with screaming white noise. He crumpled the note. He willed himself not to panic as his hands began to shake and sweat.
The master was circulating around the class, bending for a look at form or to answer a question. Derek his hand half-up and asked to go to the washroom.
**
He leaned over the sink, staring at his reflection in the grimy mirror. The institutional lighting buzzed and the matte-blue tile walls seemed to bend as his head swam with a thousand possibilities.
The door opened and shut again, and his body tensed as he heard the lock click. Alexis caught his eyes in the mirror from behind.
\"I know why you\'re here.\" Articulated quietly, sharp as a knife.
\"Fuck off!\" Derek wheeled around suddenly, slamming his elbow on the ceramic lip of the sink, making his whole arm tingle and burn. \"I don\'t know what shit you\'re trying to pull! Whatever you think youw..\w..\"
\"Oh, what I *think* I know?\" Alexis was inching towards him, threatening in his intensity. \"I know exactly what got you sent here.\"
\"And how would you know that?\" For every step the other boy took towards him, Derek took one back. He found himself quickly in a corner with his back to the wall. \"And why would it matter anyway?\" Added as an afterthought as he desperately tried to keep his composure.
Alexis was laughing at him silently, encroaching on his personal space. The power he exuded was entirely out of proportion with his lithe, compact body.
\"My parents just ed..ed.. more structure.\" He feebly tried to drag up the lie he had been taught to spout at the slightest prompting.
\"And they wanted you to stop doing the boy down the street, right?\" Alexis pressed Derek\'s shoulder\'s back against the wall with his fingertips. His captive refused to struggle, defiantly surrendering.
\"You\'re fucking crazy!\" Derek shut his eyes, no longer able to endure Alexis\'s forceful stare. Suddenly there was a raised knee between his legs, pressure increasing steadily to the point of excruciating pain.
\"Stop!\" Derek gave in. Immediate relief of the pressure. He opened his eyes to find Alexis still staring straight at him, eyebrows raised in expectation. \"I swear it wasn\'t like that!\"
\"What was it like?\" Alexis sank to his knees, hands linked in front of his chest as if he were praying.
\"Please don\'t.\" Derek squirmed, caught against the wall, trying to press away Alexis\' fingers as they began to fumble with the clasp on his belt. \"It was.. a game.. just a joke.\"
\"Oh, it always is.\" A clink, metal-on-metal as the belt came unclasped. But strangely Alexis pushed no further. He settled back, hands clasped again, a disciple begging at a wicked altar. \"It always is when people can\'t be honest with themselves.\"
Derek\'s body was rigid, throat beginning to ache as he bit back the tears threatening steal his self-control. But somehow he couldn\'t force himself to simply leave, to push Alexis out of the way and forget this whole mess.
\"It was. Just a game. We were drunk..it..\"
\"Who\'s we?\"
\"My friend and I. Best friend actually. Mark.\" Flashes running through Derek\'s head. Mark\'s goofy smile, spiky brown hair, corded arms. They had known each other since third grade. Played baseball. Shared video games. Started high school together, hung out every day. \"I swear, we were just drunk. Nothing really happened.\"
\"But something did, or you wouldn't be here.\" The eyes looking up at Derek were cold, cruel even. A look that said there would be no compromises.
\"Jesus fucking Christ, what business is it of yours anyway?\" Derek barely missed grazing the other boy\'s face with a rough motion of his hands.
\"It isn\'t.\" Frosty smile from Alexis. \"But you want to tell someone about it.\" Derek swallowed hard and tipped his eyes toward the ceiling as he again felt fingers on him, this time undoing the button on the front of his pants.
\"Fine. We were bored and my folks were out of town. So we raided the liquor cabinet in the living room. Jamaica rum, we finished off the whole bottle.\" He jerked his chin down with a gasp as Alexis unceremoniously wrenched his pants and boxers down to his knees, fabric chafing the skin of his thighs. Derek was now exposed, dreadfully exposed. He tried to cover himself with his hands but Alexis slapped them away.
\"And then..?\" Alexis had his hands up under Derek\'s shirt, hands playing at the skin of his smooth belly.
\"And then..\" Derek couldn\'t keep the pubescent crackle out of his voice. He was finding it hard to think clearly, to think at all with the blood rushing past his ears in a roar. He swore to himself that he wouldn\'t respond to the other boy\'s touch, wouldn\'t give in to his caresses. \"And then I lay down on the couch, I was dizzy. Lay down on my back. And for some reason, I have no idea why, he sat on me. Or straddled I guess. I was so wasted. He put his hands on my chest, and I thought he wanted to wrestle, you know, just fuck around a little bit.\"
Alexis was staring up at him and Derek found that he couldn\'t tear his eyes away even as his face darkened into a deep blush. Almost absently he brushed Derek\'s penis for the first time with an open palm. Instantly Derek lost his earlier resolve, the first thrills of lust making him shiver, tense up.
\"And..\" Alexis began to stroke Derek in earnest. His fingers were hot and dry, rough around Derek\'s thickening cock.
\"And out of the blue, he leans down and kisses me.\" He distinctly remembered the moment of shock brought on by Mark\'s lips on his own, the taste of rum and sweat and bubblegum as an alien tongue entered his mouth. \"He kissed me and..\"
\"And you pushed him away, right?\" Tug tug of insistent fingers.
\"No. I.. let him do it. I don\'t know why.\" Derek clenched his eyes shut for a moment, then opened them again. \"I do know why. I wanted him to do it. And then my fucking brother comes in with his slut of a girlfriend. He sees us, raises all hell, tells my parents. They freak and I end up here.\" Without thinking he reached out to brush a stray hair off of Alexis\'s forehead, his hands coming to rest at his sides in surrender. He waited, his eyes pulsing and vulnerable, breath shaking, for the other boy\'s response.
\"Hmm.\" Disinterested, barely discernible was the reply. One of Alexis\'s hands darted to his mouth and then back to Derek. It was slick with spit now, cooling Derek\'s skin while paradoxically making him hotter, harder. \"Do you want to know how I got here?\"
Derek didn\'t answer, just gritted his teeth and pressed the back of his head against the cool tiles of the wall, eyes raised again towards the ceiling. A lone tear slid down his left cheek as he frantically tried to slow his racing heart. His body tingled as his stabbing, quick breaths made him lightheaded.
\"Last summer my parents hired this guy to clean our pool, you know, do yard work, shit like that. He was a short little Hispanic guy, Paolo or something like that. Anyway, I noticed him looking at me all the time, you know, checking me out. But he couldn\'t make a move on me because he was only help.\"
\"Only help?\" Derek marveled at his flippant tone.
\"Yup.\" Alexis shrugged. \"Then one day, middle of July and hot as hell, my parents grounded me for some petty shit. They went out, and I was stuck home, all alone except for Paolo. I staked out by the pool on a towel and watched him work, in my little swimming shorts and nothing else. He knew I was watching him, and he got more and more nervous as the day went on. I never said a word to him, but I could tell he was getting jumpier and jumpier. And I finally just got up and grabbed him around the waist from behind.\" As he talked, Alexis never wavered from his steady, slow strokes.
\"Why did you do it?\"
\"I dunno. I was bored, he was there. It was a challenge. I wanted to see if I could seduce him, make him my pet.\"
\"That\'s really classy\" Derek said to the ceiling under his breath.
\"Fuck class. Anyway, to make a long story abruptly short, my parents come home to find me poolside, hilt-deep,\" Derek winced at this crudeness, \"in their beloved Paolo, whom they fired on the spot. Do you know they actually tried to have him charged with rape? I\'m banging him, but it\'s rape because I\'m not old enough to know what I want. Jesus Christ! Anyway, two months later I was here. An all-boys school, find the fucking logic in that.\"
But Derek was well beyond logic. His head spun as he began to press his hips forward, shoving himself with more and more force into Alexis\'s teasing hands.
He moaned and bit his lip as he finally got what he wanted: Alexis\'s warm mouth on him, his darting tongue and nipping teeth playing at the head of his cock. Derek held on for a moment, but quickly let himself loose in the other boy\'s mouth, coming with a shudder.
Instantly their bond of touch was broken. Derek, vision swimming, watched abstractly as Alexis got up from his knees and bent low to spit into the sink. He turned on the tap and cupped a palmful of water, rinsing and spitting again.
Derek shut his eyes, back sliding down the wall as he sank into a sitting position. His bare skin touched the floor. His pants were still tangled halfway down his legs. He pulled his knees up to his chest and buried his face in his crossed arms. He could vaguely smell the scent of his own sweat. His hair was damp against his temples and his head throbbed with each dull beat of his heart.
Alexis sat down beside him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, their sides pressed together warmly. They sat for a minute in silence. The quiet hum of the washroom and the heat radiating and mingling from their bodies lulled Derek. He began to doze.
Suddenly he was prodded quite stiffly in the ribs with an elbow as Alexis reached into his trouser pocket for something. Derek groaned at the disturbance, but kept his face firmly pressed into the dark , warm pillow of his arms.
There was a click, and then a sharp aroma hit his nostrils, bringing him abruptly back to reality. He raised his head, blinking the dazed feeling away. Alexis had a thin permanent marker in his hand, uncapped.
\"What are you doing?\" Derek laid his head on Alexis\'s shoulder, cheek against the stiff fabric of the school blazer.
\"You\'ll see.\" Alexis brushed the wall, down close to the floor, with his fingers, wiping away some invisible dust. The walls were mostly clear, but the bottom few inches, just above the floor, were filled with scattered graffiti, names and dates penned on, or scratched into the tile.
The squeak of the marker made Derek flinch. Alexis\'s hand shielded any attempt by Derek to discern what was being written. He finished and capped the marker again, letting it drop from his fingers with a clatter onto the cold floor.
Derek contorted, leaning over the other boy, to see what he had added to the general mess of graffiti. \"D.L.+A.B.\", that was all, enclosed in a heart.
******
I know, I know. If I were a medieval knight, my name would be Sir Angstsalot. And I would have a sword and a lance and a bevy of beautiful, apple-cheeked, young squires to attend to my every whim and.. *floats off into slash-heaven daydream*
>
>
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Oh, you\'re still there? Reviews are nice, you know? I really appreciate anything, even if you didn\'t like it.. flame away! xo. (kohl_boys_rule_all@yahoo.ca or exlaintherainxp on AOL). I will respond in kind, I swear on my life. Kisses, xo.
Author: Murron
Notes: Oh god, there are many things to be warned about. First, it\'s m/m!! [and, although not really explicitly stated, kind of implied that the characters are minors]. Second, not really respectful of religion [some imagery and language may offend some people, sorry]. Sort of quasi-non-con-angsty as well. I really don\'t know where this came from, the recesses of my mind are dark and scary. And a nod to Rufus Wainwright for the snazzy title. He rocks!! *subliminally* Buy his albums! Now, on to the masterpiece>>
**
The St. George Academy for Young Men; the place stank of old money and tradition. That was Derek Lance\'s first impression of his new home. It was a huge, aged stone building in the country, L-shaped, one arm of classrooms and instructional labs, another of small, tastefully furnished dorm rooms. Satellite amenities [pool, tennis courts, stables] were grouped around it, connected with cobbled pathways.
A bout of nasty unpleasantness at home had sent him here. His new uniform made him itch. His new blazer, cross on breast pocket, weighed him down as he sat in the headmaster\'s office. The welcome-to-our-school speech. He wasn\'t listening. He was tapping his fingers on the clean pleat of his new pants. And chewing the inside of his lip. And fighting to look interested in the \'good catholic traditions\' that the master was droning on about.
Derek hadn\'t been in a church since he was baptized. But his parents were wealthy enough to pay the tuitions, and gifted enough at lie-weaving to make it past the admissions board. The official line was that Derek had found school at home in New York \'too unstructured\', that his parents were concerned about his \'developing attitude\'. Not entirely the truth, but good enough to get hi aft after school had been in session for almost a month. Once upon a time a boy named Derek was sent to an all-boys Catholic school for dubious reasons, and he lived happily ever after.
He snapped out of his trance as the first bell of the morning rang. The master was standing, holding out his hand for a shake. Derek hauled his stocky, short frame out of the chair and reciprocated, aas ras rewarded with a piece of paper, his schedule of classes. He flicked one shaggy strand of brown hair out of his eye.
He slid out into the sea of boys which flowed through recently-empty halls. Most of them still had sleep in their eyes or damp hair from early showers. He was pulled with the general flow towards his first class.
**
The next few weeks were like a whirlwind dream for Derek, actively forging alliances disguised as friendships and throwing himself into convincingly faking the Catholic faith for the benefit of his teachers.
He managed to squeeze himself stealthily into the sporty group of boys on the sheer merit of his soccer skills and agility. They were the kings of the school, the leaders of the pack. The other cliques looked up to them, or were terribly frightened of them, a fine line really. When one of them was wronged, or perceived to have been wronged, they closed ranks, a tight, cleat-wielding mafia, and took swift care of business.
There are always exceptions, though. Theirs was Alexis Burton. A short, scrappy-looking thing he was, shirt always undone, tie never straight. Even the biggest jocks, the ones who were perpetually lifting weights and sweating in copious amounts, would not take on Alexis. In fact, they all steered clear of him. Derek never really thought to ask why. He didn\'t really take an interest. But Alexis took an interest in him.
**
Derek coming in from the soccer pitch, carrying his jersey in one hand, positively glowing from his exertions. Meets Alexis coming out the front door. Derek\'s way is blocked by the other\'s body for a split second, on purpose. Derek\'s first up-close look at Alexis. Short, slender, curly brown-blond hair, appearing uncomfortably confined in his uniform. Looking as if he would be more comfortable barefoot and shirtless on a beach, skin and scalp gritty with sand.
**
Derek in the computer lab, heonesones on, pecking at the keyboard. When he gets up, he can see Alexis following his movements in the dim reflection of a monitor.
**
Derek going up the deserted stairs, in a daze, late after a last-minute cram session. Alexis coming down, sock-feet, old sweatpants and a tight black tee. The backs of theirs hands brush although there is plenty of space for them to pass with touching. Derek jumps and finds flinty black eyes flicking over his body for an instant.
**
onlyonly class Derek shared with Alexis was Calculus. Alexis sat one row to the right and one seat back, which was nerve-wracking for Derek. He could feel, or at least imagined that he could feel, cool eyes on his back constantly, prodding like icy fingers.
\"Mr. Lance, please do the final question for the class.\" The master looked at him expectantly, and he got up, holding his notebook in one hand. He flipped to the right page and grasped the chalk, copying out his solution in blocky pt opt on the dusty green board, script lined up obsessively straight.
The master nodded as he slid int into his seat. A bit of folded paper poked out from under the corner of his textbook. He unfolded it, trying to keep it hidden in the crook of his arm from the prying eyes behind him.
\"I know why you\'re here.\" Scratched messily in black ball-point pen. Derek\'s head filled with screaming white noise. He crumpled the note. He willed himself not to panic as his hands began to shake and sweat.
The master was circulating around the class, bending for a look at form or to answer a question. Derek his hand half-up and asked to go to the washroom.
**
He leaned over the sink, staring at his reflection in the grimy mirror. The institutional lighting buzzed and the matte-blue tile walls seemed to bend as his head swam with a thousand possibilities.
The door opened and shut again, and his body tensed as he heard the lock click. Alexis caught his eyes in the mirror from behind.
\"I know why you\'re here.\" Articulated quietly, sharp as a knife.
\"Fuck off!\" Derek wheeled around suddenly, slamming his elbow on the ceramic lip of the sink, making his whole arm tingle and burn. \"I don\'t know what shit you\'re trying to pull! Whatever you think youw..\w..\"
\"Oh, what I *think* I know?\" Alexis was inching towards him, threatening in his intensity. \"I know exactly what got you sent here.\"
\"And how would you know that?\" For every step the other boy took towards him, Derek took one back. He found himself quickly in a corner with his back to the wall. \"And why would it matter anyway?\" Added as an afterthought as he desperately tried to keep his composure.
Alexis was laughing at him silently, encroaching on his personal space. The power he exuded was entirely out of proportion with his lithe, compact body.
\"My parents just ed..ed.. more structure.\" He feebly tried to drag up the lie he had been taught to spout at the slightest prompting.
\"And they wanted you to stop doing the boy down the street, right?\" Alexis pressed Derek\'s shoulder\'s back against the wall with his fingertips. His captive refused to struggle, defiantly surrendering.
\"You\'re fucking crazy!\" Derek shut his eyes, no longer able to endure Alexis\'s forceful stare. Suddenly there was a raised knee between his legs, pressure increasing steadily to the point of excruciating pain.
\"Stop!\" Derek gave in. Immediate relief of the pressure. He opened his eyes to find Alexis still staring straight at him, eyebrows raised in expectation. \"I swear it wasn\'t like that!\"
\"What was it like?\" Alexis sank to his knees, hands linked in front of his chest as if he were praying.
\"Please don\'t.\" Derek squirmed, caught against the wall, trying to press away Alexis\' fingers as they began to fumble with the clasp on his belt. \"It was.. a game.. just a joke.\"
\"Oh, it always is.\" A clink, metal-on-metal as the belt came unclasped. But strangely Alexis pushed no further. He settled back, hands clasped again, a disciple begging at a wicked altar. \"It always is when people can\'t be honest with themselves.\"
Derek\'s body was rigid, throat beginning to ache as he bit back the tears threatening steal his self-control. But somehow he couldn\'t force himself to simply leave, to push Alexis out of the way and forget this whole mess.
\"It was. Just a game. We were drunk..it..\"
\"Who\'s we?\"
\"My friend and I. Best friend actually. Mark.\" Flashes running through Derek\'s head. Mark\'s goofy smile, spiky brown hair, corded arms. They had known each other since third grade. Played baseball. Shared video games. Started high school together, hung out every day. \"I swear, we were just drunk. Nothing really happened.\"
\"But something did, or you wouldn't be here.\" The eyes looking up at Derek were cold, cruel even. A look that said there would be no compromises.
\"Jesus fucking Christ, what business is it of yours anyway?\" Derek barely missed grazing the other boy\'s face with a rough motion of his hands.
\"It isn\'t.\" Frosty smile from Alexis. \"But you want to tell someone about it.\" Derek swallowed hard and tipped his eyes toward the ceiling as he again felt fingers on him, this time undoing the button on the front of his pants.
\"Fine. We were bored and my folks were out of town. So we raided the liquor cabinet in the living room. Jamaica rum, we finished off the whole bottle.\" He jerked his chin down with a gasp as Alexis unceremoniously wrenched his pants and boxers down to his knees, fabric chafing the skin of his thighs. Derek was now exposed, dreadfully exposed. He tried to cover himself with his hands but Alexis slapped them away.
\"And then..?\" Alexis had his hands up under Derek\'s shirt, hands playing at the skin of his smooth belly.
\"And then..\" Derek couldn\'t keep the pubescent crackle out of his voice. He was finding it hard to think clearly, to think at all with the blood rushing past his ears in a roar. He swore to himself that he wouldn\'t respond to the other boy\'s touch, wouldn\'t give in to his caresses. \"And then I lay down on the couch, I was dizzy. Lay down on my back. And for some reason, I have no idea why, he sat on me. Or straddled I guess. I was so wasted. He put his hands on my chest, and I thought he wanted to wrestle, you know, just fuck around a little bit.\"
Alexis was staring up at him and Derek found that he couldn\'t tear his eyes away even as his face darkened into a deep blush. Almost absently he brushed Derek\'s penis for the first time with an open palm. Instantly Derek lost his earlier resolve, the first thrills of lust making him shiver, tense up.
\"And..\" Alexis began to stroke Derek in earnest. His fingers were hot and dry, rough around Derek\'s thickening cock.
\"And out of the blue, he leans down and kisses me.\" He distinctly remembered the moment of shock brought on by Mark\'s lips on his own, the taste of rum and sweat and bubblegum as an alien tongue entered his mouth. \"He kissed me and..\"
\"And you pushed him away, right?\" Tug tug of insistent fingers.
\"No. I.. let him do it. I don\'t know why.\" Derek clenched his eyes shut for a moment, then opened them again. \"I do know why. I wanted him to do it. And then my fucking brother comes in with his slut of a girlfriend. He sees us, raises all hell, tells my parents. They freak and I end up here.\" Without thinking he reached out to brush a stray hair off of Alexis\'s forehead, his hands coming to rest at his sides in surrender. He waited, his eyes pulsing and vulnerable, breath shaking, for the other boy\'s response.
\"Hmm.\" Disinterested, barely discernible was the reply. One of Alexis\'s hands darted to his mouth and then back to Derek. It was slick with spit now, cooling Derek\'s skin while paradoxically making him hotter, harder. \"Do you want to know how I got here?\"
Derek didn\'t answer, just gritted his teeth and pressed the back of his head against the cool tiles of the wall, eyes raised again towards the ceiling. A lone tear slid down his left cheek as he frantically tried to slow his racing heart. His body tingled as his stabbing, quick breaths made him lightheaded.
\"Last summer my parents hired this guy to clean our pool, you know, do yard work, shit like that. He was a short little Hispanic guy, Paolo or something like that. Anyway, I noticed him looking at me all the time, you know, checking me out. But he couldn\'t make a move on me because he was only help.\"
\"Only help?\" Derek marveled at his flippant tone.
\"Yup.\" Alexis shrugged. \"Then one day, middle of July and hot as hell, my parents grounded me for some petty shit. They went out, and I was stuck home, all alone except for Paolo. I staked out by the pool on a towel and watched him work, in my little swimming shorts and nothing else. He knew I was watching him, and he got more and more nervous as the day went on. I never said a word to him, but I could tell he was getting jumpier and jumpier. And I finally just got up and grabbed him around the waist from behind.\" As he talked, Alexis never wavered from his steady, slow strokes.
\"Why did you do it?\"
\"I dunno. I was bored, he was there. It was a challenge. I wanted to see if I could seduce him, make him my pet.\"
\"That\'s really classy\" Derek said to the ceiling under his breath.
\"Fuck class. Anyway, to make a long story abruptly short, my parents come home to find me poolside, hilt-deep,\" Derek winced at this crudeness, \"in their beloved Paolo, whom they fired on the spot. Do you know they actually tried to have him charged with rape? I\'m banging him, but it\'s rape because I\'m not old enough to know what I want. Jesus Christ! Anyway, two months later I was here. An all-boys school, find the fucking logic in that.\"
But Derek was well beyond logic. His head spun as he began to press his hips forward, shoving himself with more and more force into Alexis\'s teasing hands.
He moaned and bit his lip as he finally got what he wanted: Alexis\'s warm mouth on him, his darting tongue and nipping teeth playing at the head of his cock. Derek held on for a moment, but quickly let himself loose in the other boy\'s mouth, coming with a shudder.
Instantly their bond of touch was broken. Derek, vision swimming, watched abstractly as Alexis got up from his knees and bent low to spit into the sink. He turned on the tap and cupped a palmful of water, rinsing and spitting again.
Derek shut his eyes, back sliding down the wall as he sank into a sitting position. His bare skin touched the floor. His pants were still tangled halfway down his legs. He pulled his knees up to his chest and buried his face in his crossed arms. He could vaguely smell the scent of his own sweat. His hair was damp against his temples and his head throbbed with each dull beat of his heart.
Alexis sat down beside him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, their sides pressed together warmly. They sat for a minute in silence. The quiet hum of the washroom and the heat radiating and mingling from their bodies lulled Derek. He began to doze.
Suddenly he was prodded quite stiffly in the ribs with an elbow as Alexis reached into his trouser pocket for something. Derek groaned at the disturbance, but kept his face firmly pressed into the dark , warm pillow of his arms.
There was a click, and then a sharp aroma hit his nostrils, bringing him abruptly back to reality. He raised his head, blinking the dazed feeling away. Alexis had a thin permanent marker in his hand, uncapped.
\"What are you doing?\" Derek laid his head on Alexis\'s shoulder, cheek against the stiff fabric of the school blazer.
\"You\'ll see.\" Alexis brushed the wall, down close to the floor, with his fingers, wiping away some invisible dust. The walls were mostly clear, but the bottom few inches, just above the floor, were filled with scattered graffiti, names and dates penned on, or scratched into the tile.
The squeak of the marker made Derek flinch. Alexis\'s hand shielded any attempt by Derek to discern what was being written. He finished and capped the marker again, letting it drop from his fingers with a clatter onto the cold floor.
Derek contorted, leaning over the other boy, to see what he had added to the general mess of graffiti. \"D.L.+A.B.\", that was all, enclosed in a heart.
******
I know, I know. If I were a medieval knight, my name would be Sir Angstsalot. And I would have a sword and a lance and a bevy of beautiful, apple-cheeked, young squires to attend to my every whim and.. *floats off into slash-heaven daydream*
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Oh, you\'re still there? Reviews are nice, you know? I really appreciate anything, even if you didn\'t like it.. flame away! xo. (kohl_boys_rule_all@yahoo.ca or exlaintherainxp on AOL). I will respond in kind, I swear on my life. Kisses, xo.