Dating A Stranger

A/N: I'm not sure if I editted this properly - it's really late - but here we go! Something pretty plotless, but extremely fun to write.

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The rain was cold as it hit Zachary’s shirt-clad skin. His annoying twelve-year old sister had insisted he wear a jacket because it was definitely going to rain, but like any normal seventeen year old brother would do – he ignored her.

He was paying for it now, his drenched blond hair dark with water. He wrapped his arms around himself while suppressing a shudder that chorused through his body anyway. It didn’t help and he muttered uselessly to himself under the howling of a few dogs left outside by negligent families.

Zach had been walking to work when the sunny day suddenly darkened but had turned right around after the first few drops splattered onto his face. It didn’t take more than a few seconds for the clouds to start pouring as if they’d been building up to that very moment for years.

A roar of thunder resounded through the empty alleyway and Zachary nearly jumped out of his skin. That didn’t scare him half as much as the skidding of the car behind him as it came to sudden stop barely two feet away.

Frozen in shock, Zachary just stared as a boyish young man swore loudly and the door to the Porsche swung open. He was wearing a black suit with a dark blue shirt underneath which was odd because Zach swore he couldn’t be much older than himself.

“Shit. What the hell are you doing in the middle of the road? I don’t have the time to run over some mindless idiot, so get the hell out of my way!”

Zach’s eyes widened as he processed the words spilling out of the other boy’s mouth. He was growing steadily soaked and so was the man, his dark hair turning near-black. “Wha?”

The man was extremely stressed out. Zach guessed that much when his high fashion shoes dented his own car door with a hard kick.

“Dude,” Zachary finally articulated. “What the fuck?”

The other man scowled. “There’s no way I’m going to make it on time. Damn.”

“Hey, if this is about work, you’re not alone. Today is just not our day, man.” Zachary tried, hoping to calm the man down. He figured if he didn’t annoy the guy further and said man really hated his car, he might be able to buy it cheap off of him.

“Work? Like hell. This thing is my dad’s.” Spoiled brat.

Zachary shrugged. He decided this guy wasn’t worth getting wet to his underwear for so he turned around and began walking in the opposite direction.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Pausing in his steps, Zach ventured a look behind him. The man’s hair was flat against his forehead, just grazing his deep green eyes. What a creep. “Uh, home.”

“No, you’re coming with. I need an excuse as to why I’m late. You’ll do.”

“What?” Zach’s eyes were wide as the man walked up to him, polished shoes splattering with rain. “Late for /what/?”

“For my sister’s wedding. I slept in.” He added defensively.

“What? How the hell am I supposed to be an excuse for that?”

The man’s face broke out into a smile that was incredibly handsome but more foreboding than anything else. “They know I like pretty things.”

Fuck. If he had only wore his jacket. All of this could have been avoided.

-

Zachary was more or less forced into the front seat of the Porsche. He suspected he should have run as soon as the young man made his offer, but the car was warm and Zachary wasn’t. His human survival instincts kicked in full force.

The heating was cranked up high and the frost on the edge of Zach’s pale eyebrows was slowly dissipating. He sighed contentedly, even though he was being taken to a wedding as some sort of weird as fuck hostage.

“Warm enough yet? My hair’s already ruined, I don’t want to be sweating when we get there.”

Zachary grimaced. “You never did explain why I need to go with you.”

The man, who had introduced himself as Oliver, scowled. “I already told you. They know I like pretty things, and it wouldn’t be the first time I was distracted because of one.”

“You could have just told them you slept in.” Zachary was beyond confused. But he was warm, at least.

“Yeah, I could’ve. I also could’ve run your ass over and don’t think I’m not still contemplating it.”

“Uh, okay.”

“They’d kill me if they found out I slept in.” Oliver elaborated. “If I bring a date, they’ll be much more inclined to forgive me. I don’t go out much –” Gee, I wonder why “ – and they’re always pestering me about it. And you’re cute; they’ll be all over you.”

Even warmth wasn’t enough to keep Zachary from jumping out of his seat, or trying to – he had momentarily forgotten about technology and seatbelts. “DATE?”

“Yes. Don’t look so scared, I have some spare clothes in the back for you. You’ll look dazzling.”

Zachary gagged. “As if that’s the reason I’m panicking,” he replied dryly. This guy was unbelievable.

“Yeah, yeah. You’re not gay, I’ve heard that before.”

Zachary wasn’t, but arguing didn’t seem like the proper thing to do. He tried reverse psychology. “No, no. I am. I guess you better find someone more exciting to pull along for the ride.” He subtly tried the door. Maybe he would be able to pull off some stunt like in the movies and jump out of a moving car.

Child lock, what kind of predator was this guy!

“You are?” Oliver looked ecstatic. “Well, at least you’ll be believable.”

Zachary sulked. “You do know I’m going to call the police on you.”

Oliver laughed, turning up the volume of his radio. “Right. I save you from hypothermia and won’t even touch you. You’re just acting. If you were really against it, you’d be more frantic… and I’d let you go.”

The blond thought that over. He supposed Oliver was right in some twisted sense of logic. He should be more frantic now that his toes weren’t frozen together, but he wasn’t. He relented and Oliver smirked while staring straight ahead of him.

“Yeah, whatever. There better be cake.”

-

There was, but the wedding was boring as hell. Zachary had to sit through what felt like hours of crying couples surrounding him and, to keep up their pretense, Oliver’s hand on his thigh. When it was finally time for cake, Zachary was pulled away by his captor’s parents as they cooed over what a pretty shade of blond his hair was or asked where he got his pants tailored.

Pants get personally tailored? That was new. Zachary more or less got his clothes from thrift stores or wal-mart.

But he was styling the fashion industry that night. Oliver had forced him into a black collared shirt and grey spiral-patterned tie. He briefly wondered what the hell he was doing at the wedding wearing a complete stranger’s clothes, but before he could act or turn himself in at an insane asylum, a hand brushed the small of his back.

His brown eyes widened. “You said you wouldn’t touch,” he hissed. He had a feeling the hand on his thigh was not so much for show anymore. Damn his reverse psychology –Oliver probably thought he was up for grabs and discounted.

“Okay, next time I’ll bring a cardboard cutting of Orlando Bloom as my date. It’ll be more believable.”

Zachary agreed with that idea, before he frowned. “Ugh, Orlando is so overrated.”

The hand at his back traveled lower and Zachary jerked away. “Right. I have to introduce you to Lorry and then we can get out of here.”

As it turned out, Oliver had taken Zachary’s hand and led him out of the hall with purposeful stride, seemingly as ready to get out of there as Zach was himself. But, families that could afford to dent their own Porsches were obviously not cheap and the hall was gigantic. It was no mystery as to why they got lost moments after stepping outside the main room.

“Great. Now we’re lost. You can add that to the list of crap things you’ve done to me tonight. You know, right under almost running me over.” Zachary drawled, tugging his hand away.

Oliver rolled his eyes. “We can just head back to the main hall. We’ll find them sooner or later.”

The first door they opened was not the hall, but instead a highly perfume scented restroom. The ordinate toilet seats made Zachary raise his brows, but he was ushered from the room immediately after stepping inside.

“Damn! You’d think they’d decorate each door differently, or draw a map on the ceiling.” Zachary said dully, situating himself on the steps leading to another door. They hadn’t tried it yet – the fifteen others had downed their spirits.

“Differently styled doors would be tacky.” Oliver mumbled, his dark hair – dry now – falling tiredly over his eyebrows.

Zachary crossed his arms. “Oh yeah, because getting lost is totally in style these days.” He threw his head back to stare at the upside down door. “One last try?”

Oliver sighed, pushing himself off his resting position that was leaning against the wall and walked over to the steps. He gave Zachary a hand up and they ambled to their door of hope together.

What they found inside was not a bathroom or a coatroom. It was a suite. A very large, very expensive-looking, very romantic kind of suite. In fact, if Zachary was to take a wild guess, he would have to say it was the honey-moon suite. The rose petals and champagne, and not to mention the huge bed with silky satin sheets draped across it, were a dead give away.

The crazy, self-absorbed rich boy took a step inside, his eyes raking across the room. “How long do you think it’ll be until the wedding’s over?”

Zachary, not quite getting the gist of the conversation, shrugged. “Soon, I hope. These clothes are itchy.”

The blond found himself pressed against the door, two strong arms pinning him immobile.

“Uh yeah, that list keeps getting longer.”

“Fuck, do you know how to ruin the moment or what.”

Zachary grinned a bit as Oliver let go of him, opting instead to sit on the bed. He picked up a rose petal with a pained expression. “How unbearably cliché.”

“Yeah, every romance should be like ours, Ollie.” Zachary said sarcastically, using the nickname his mom had.

‘Ollie’ rolled his eyes. “I thought you were gay. You should be all over me – I’m gorgeous.”

“Yeah, about that, I’m not.” Zachary was nonchalant as he joined Oliver on the bed, falling back into the cushions.

Narrowing his eyes, Oliver rolled over so that he was on top of Zachary, the blond’s limp wrists in his grip. “You are. You’d never have come as my date if you weren’t.”

Their warm bodies were pressed against each other, and Oliver leaned close enough so that their faces were almost grazing. Zachary’s heart-rate sped up minutely.

“What part of kidnapper with a warm car do you not understand,” he mumbled, a bit breathlessly.

Oliver’s lips turned up in a small smile. He let go of one of Zachary’s wrists, satisfied when the smaller boy made no effort to move. “Don’t be stubborn. You’re so innocent it’s funny. Have you ever kissed anyone, Zach?”

Zachary had a feeling his brief romance in second grade didn’t count so stayed quiet.

“I swear you were about to have a heart attack the minute I placed my hand on your legs back there.” As if to prove his point, he let a rough palm smooth up Zach’s knee just stopping short of his groin. As predicted, Zach’s traitorous body ran out of oxygen and he inhaled sharply.

With a chuckle, Oliver let go of Zachary’s other wrist, but his fingernails brushed against the blond’s inner arm before his hand landed flat against Zach’s chest. A shuddering breath escaped the boy’s wide-open mouth, and he tried to close it. He didn’t want to end up swallowing any rose petals or anything.

The thought of swallowing brought a flush to his cheeks and he feebly tried to pull himself away from the hands that were unbuttoning his shirt from the bottom up.

“Er, s-stop.” He twisted a bit, his arms still above his head without the previous restraint. He supposed his stuttering was credited to Oliver’s deft fingers which had finished buttoning the expensive fabric and were crawling up Zachary’s smooth chest. He left the tie on, the prick.

“Itchy,” Zachary mumbled, his eyelashes flickering open to expose glassy eyes.

“Sexy,” Oliver corrected, an impish smirk gracing his features as he sifted his fingers through Zach’s messy hair. His fringe stuck to his forehead slightly due to the prickles of sweat chorusing down his spine, and he grimaced.

“Itchy and … hot.” He persisted. He made no effort to untie it or dislodge the silky-clothed boy off his fragile frame. Nor did Oliver look too inclined to comply with whatever weak protests the smaller boy was making.

“You’ll live,” Zachary became aware of the fact that Oliver’s mouth was very close to his and that his bare chest was sliding against the material of the other’s shirt every time he inhaled. He felt a rush of adrenaline spike throughout his body as his wide eyes locked with amused green.

Then, lips crashed down onto his own – insistent but gentle.

Zachary’s eyes were still open as the lips grazed his own, coaxing the blond to open his mouth. Teeth made an appearance once or twice to nibble and distract until finally Zachary closed his eyes and parted his lips with a whimper. Oliver’s tongue wasted no time, slipping between moist lips eagerly and gnashing with teeth. Zachary suspected that must have been slightly painful, but the brunette only grew more desperate, his tongue searching for Zachary’s less confident one. The first rub against the roof of his mouth sent jolts of excitement straight to Zachary’s cock and he blushed furiously as he felt those same hands trace down his abdomen to massage his pant-clad groin.

“N-no,” Zachary pried his mouth away and gasped, his cheeks flushed a bright red and his back arching into the touch despite his protest. “N-not gay.”

Oliver chuckled, his green eyes dark with lust as he looked at the flushing pale body beneath him. Blond hair was strewn over closed eyes as angular hips jerked almost as regularly as Zachary’s cock.

The taller boy kissed Zach again, not enticing his mouth open like before, but instead drawing his kisses up the corner of swollen lips to a quivering throat. At the same time, Oliver’s hands unclasped Zachary’s well-tailored pants and they slid off the slender frame easily.

Distracted by the suction on the juncture of his neck and collarbone, Zachary didn’t protest but moaned, his hips bucking against Oliver’s hand and his delirious eyes fluttering open every few seconds to stare at the chandelier spinning above him.

Oliver’s hand finally grasped Zachary’s naked erection and the boy spread his legs apart weakly, the muscles trembling with effort to stay still. Oliver had somehow managed to take off his own shirt in the process of unraveling Zachary’s willpower and he pressed their bodies together, the silk of Zach’s grey tie the only thing between them.

The nibbling at Zachary’s throat became needy, and unwilling – not to mention unable – to pull away, the blond wrapped his arms around Oliver’s shoulders and buried his scorching face into a sweaty neck.

The hand continued to jerk him and Zachary’s head tossed away from Oliver’s neck to land on the mattress. He was hard enough that it hurt and Oliver, noticing how close he was, swore to himself with his mouth pressed against Zachary’s inner elbow. He shoved off his pants immediately and his hard length settled on the pale youth’s thigh.

This somehow embarrassed Zachary further but he forgot his shame when the hands left his cock permanently, leaving him hard, panting and with a watery, lusty eyes. The sight sent Oliver into a frenzy and he dug in his pockets for lubricant. “Fuck,” he muttered, his shaking fingers not cooperating.

Zachary turned his head away, his legs spread wide and his hands twitching as they tried to hold back from grasping his cock. Just when his restraint broke, Oliver caught his hand and held it above his head with a hungry look in his near-black eyes.

“I’m going to fuck you,” he said huskily, letting go of the hand and warming the lubricant between hands palms.

Unable to respond, whether he was too aroused or too mortified, Zachary only let out a desperate whimper, trying to rub his groin against Oliver’s.

He wasn’t expecting the finger that pushed its way through the ring of muscle in his most private spot, and Zachary’s form nearly flung off the bed as he winced in pain. “No – No. Hurts.”

The hand was back on his neglected cock again and lips were suddenly by his ear. “It gets better, Zachary,” Oliver moaned, pushing in and out with his digit. “I’m going to give you the best orgasm of your life,” he let out a raspy chuckle. “Not that there’s much competition in that department.”

The words sent the blond into a mewling mess and he was soon arching into the now two fingers that were loosening his entrance. The smell of rose petals mixed with musk and for some reason that only made him anticipate the sex more. He tried to mumble that he was ready, that he wanted it, but he couldn’t form words and was sure anything that came out of his mouth was incoherent and wouldn’t pass for any language of any country.

He forced his eyes open, rocking his body against the fingers pressed deep inside him, and caught Oliver’s gaze. The fingers pulled out of him then, and lips latched onto his own, Oliver’s tongue more purposeful than before.

Something hot and thick was placed at his entrance and Zachary blushed furiously at what it was. He gurgled in his throat, trying to hold back his moans and failing, when Oliver’s cock pushed inside of him.

It stung. It felt like it didn’t fit and was uncomfortable. Zachary’s eyes opened wide, his damp hair swiveling across his forehead as he shook his head. “Out – out – I don’t like it!”

Oliver stroked Zachary’s cock as he positioned slender legs on his shoulders to push in more deeply. The blond was babbling, his head shaking side to side as he tried to keep his eyes open. When Oliver was finally all the way inside, he stopped moving and let Zachary adjust around him.

With a clenched jaw, and the heavy weight of his own cock against his stomach, Zachary’s quivering legs locked themselves tight around Oliver. Then, he opened his eyes which were dark as night. “Move.” He whispered in a broken whimper.

Oliver pulled in and out slowly, trying not to hurt Zachary as his length disappeared into the clenching heat. He continued the slow rhythm for what seemed like hours until Zachary finally let out a wail, his legs tightening around the other as his prostate was hit dead on. Brown eyes flew open as hips jerked uncontrollably, trying to force the cock inside of him to go deeper.

“More.” Zachary moaned, trying to arch himself in time with Oliver’s thrusts. “Fuck!”

Oliver laughed hoarsely, aiming for that same spot over and over, his hands sweaty and slippery with lube sliding up and down Zachary’s erection. “Best damn orgasm of your life,” he grunted, burying himself inside the boy beneath him with a hard jerk of his hips, making Zachary cry out and dig his nails into whatever he could grasp.

As promised, Zachary came with a loud yell, his hips bucking as each rope of semen left his aching cock to land on both their chests and Oliver’s knuckles. The length inside of him throbbed and he clenched around it, trying to hold onto the painful pleasure that was chorusing through his groin.

It took a few more thrusts for Oliver to orgasm, but he came with a long moan. His own semen dribbled down Zachary’s cheeks and pooled on his right thigh in a slick mess. They both panted harshly before Oliver pulled out and rolled onto his back, dizzy with bliss and exhaustion.

Zachary’s eyelids were already closing and Oliver tugged at the tie hanging around the blond’s slender neck, accenting the bright teeth marks and hickeys. Then, he pulled the half-conscious boy in toward him for a long kiss.

-

When Zachary returned home, in his own clothes and his cheeks still flushed from his incredibly strange evening, his sister ambled into the room with an ‘I told you so’ look on her face.

He ignored it, but she was persistent. “See, I knew you should have taken your jacket with you.”

Zachary smiled serenely, shoving off his shoes and shakily walking toward the stairs. “Nope, you were wrong. In fact, I think I’ll go walking out in the rain without a jacket more often.”

- End -