Little Ray of Sunshine

”Little Ray of Sunshine”
By: Camui

A/N: I’ve done one thing, a loooong time ago in 1st POV… we’ll see how this turns out, eh?
Warnings: Rated NC-17 for graphic situations and morbid language. Uh, really really satyric humor? Sure. From the other perspective of “OMG I WAS RAPED”, instead it’s “AHAHA I RAPED U”.



-0-0-0-

I groaned and slammed my head down on my desk, the dull sting of pain shooting through my head, but I didn’t care at the moment. I mean, where did this teacher come off, anyhow? I mean come on. First he told us that the eight-page essay was due at the end of the Trimester, and now he says he wants it next week?

Well, run me sideways and fuck my ear canal. I’m screwed. I haven’t even started the fucking paper!

“Hey,” the kid next to me, who claimed himself to be my best friend, nudged my shoulder. “It’s not that bad, you’re a genius when it comes to writing!”

“Fuck you,” I grumbled, letting my head loll to the side so I could look up with him with my green eyes, glaring hotly at him. “Just because you’ve had it done since the first week Mr. Lalonde assigned it doesn’t mean you can brag your ass off to me.”

Colby shrugged and tapped his pen idly on his desk, resting his cheek in his palm and staring ahead at the board with a hint of disinterest.

“Well maybe you should have at least thought of a topic,” he said, shrugging again and glancing down at me, his bright blue eyes teasing.

“You’re a topic…” I muttered in a vain attempt to insult my friend. It was one of my ‘things’, to ‘verb someone’s noun’.

My friend sighed through his perfect, pouty lips, and returned his attention to Mr. Lalonde who was trying to placate the other kids that had at least gotten in a vocal outrage towards the assignment.

“Can you at least come over tonight and help me?” I asked, my voice taking on that special, whiny-but-sort-of-begging-in-a-wannabe-seductive voice. Colby rolled his eyes and I sat up, whimpering and dropping my forehead onto his shoulder. “Pleeeeeease?”

Shoving me off of his arm, he rolled his eyes and raised a brow towards me. Ah, he looked so cute like that – he knew exactly what I wanted, I knew what I wanted, and there was no use in denying it – with his mousy brown hair mussed slightly and cheeks slightly red from my tone.

“Fine, shut up and pay attention.” He conceded finally, and smiling brightly I turned to the front of the class, watching Mr. Lalonde speak.

It was like watching a beached walrus struggle for air. Like… if a walrus had gills, or something like that. The guy had like, three chins, the one below it bigger than the one before it, and did he even have a neck? The collars of his shirt were always popped like he was a cool Abercrombie model or something. Haha. But yeah. A walrus. When he spoke he used his hands, and then I always imaged the walrus sound ‘ork! Ork!’ along with it.

I snickered to myself and waited for the bell to ring, packing my bags up early and earning a disapproving look from Mr. Walrus just as the bell rang. Waving ‘bye’ to Colby I rushed out of the classroom, eager for lunch. Colby and I didn’t have many classes together; we had TAP (tutorial advisory period) and second period together, but that was just about it. It’s not like we were attached at the hip and can’t survive without each other.

My thigh vibrated; ah, a text from Colby.~

… What?

Answering his text with an abusive amounts of smileys and exclamation points, I snapped my phone shut and sat down at the usual table, waiting for the usual troupe of nerds to come around. See, I wasn’t the most popular kid, but I don’t think anyone in the school disliked me. I befriended the ‘geeks’ because I related to them the most; I watched anime, I played video games, and I was into those crazy youtube videos that kids quoted all the time. Yeah, I admit, I’m one of ‘them’. Not abusively, though.

Like the text I responded to Colby’s response with. I never usually use too many smileys, but for him I practically write out a sentence in “T_T e_e;; xD xO x___x LMAO” just to piss him off. He always complains that he doesn’t get it. And then I just snicker, because hell if I know what I’m typing out, I’m just doing random letters with underscores to convey a random emotion.

Shortly after I arrived at the table, it started to fill up. I swear I’m like, some sort of demi-god to these kids. None of them will even go near the table if I’m not there, and once I sit there the seats closest to me are the last to fill up (the tables are circular with eight little stool things around the edge). And even sometimes no one sits in them; people stand in or around the vicinity. I kinda like the attention, y’know?

Pfffft. Ego much? Chaa.

And of course, I never got my own food. I usually had money for an Arizona Tea or something, and of course a pack of gum, but why bother with food? All I gotta do is stare at someone’s tater tots and they’ll give me the whole slew of them. Ah, the power. Muwahaha.

So here I was, munching on what’s-his-face’s tater tots, when – oh no! – Jared approaches the table.

Now… Jared is one of the types of kids where you want to punch him in the scrotum because he’s stupid, but then again you want to feign niceness so that when he goes Columbine on your ass he lets you live. Maybe even waves you out of the building to safety while he’s busy poaching Mr. Walrus. So I smile a bit strained at him, though a smile from me is like, the most important thing in his life and suddenly makes it worth living.

“Hey guys!” He said happily, taking the empty seat next to me. The other guys just stared; they thought Jared was incredibly stupid, or maybe had a death wish, since usually the kid sitting next to me had to put up with my usual annoying tactics.

For as soon as Jared sat, I pinched him in the inner thigh and made him yelp and grasp at it, obviously alarmed. “FUCK!”

I shrugged and popped another piece of deep fried potato fatty goodness into my mouth and pretended like nothing happened, looking across the table to Greg and Karl and trying to listen to their WoW conversation. I never personally played WoW, but I could probably write a descriptive dialogue about it, with how much Greg and Karl blab about the stupid fucking thing.

Honestly, if I’m going to do something worthwhile on the computer, it’s going to be porn.

Hands down.

In the lap.

Oooh, yeah…

…

“I finally got a PSP guys!” Jared said, finally over the fact that I had defiled his inner thigh, as he was now bouncing up and down, reaching into his impossibly large, and stuffed to the brim back pack. He pulled out the console and everybody just stared – we all knew that Jared wasn’t particularly the most financially well-off kid in the school, how the fuck did he get one of those?

“How the fuck did you get one of those?” I asked, staring at it. It was the white kind, with like… I don’t even know what made it special, it was white and more expensive than the black ones.

Jared grinned, “I took up part time at Buck’s Pizza and saved up for the past few months.”

I raised a brow, “Do you even have any games to play on it?”

The kid paused, then licked his lips. “Well, no, but I have one! And if I save for another few months I can buy a game!”

Rolling my eyes and reaching into my back pack, I focused on getting out the copy of Crisis Core I had carrying around with me. I didn’t even try to pay attention to the conversations going on, my hair was blocking my vision as I bent over and it was getting annoying, tickling my nose and getting into my eyes. Fghghughghuhgugh. Sitting up, I sat the copy of the game in front of Jared, then held out my hand, tossing my head to get my black and red bangs out of my face.

“Give me five bucks right here, and five bucks tomorrow, I’ll let you have that game for a week.”

Staring at the game, wide-eyed, Jared quickly fished out five bucks from his wallet and handed it to me, myself grinning as I pulled my wallet out of my back pocket and put the money in along with the other bills.

I’ve got a job; I work at Hollister, in the mall. You know, that stuffy outfitter place, sister-store of Abercrombie? I like my job. It’s a really relaxed atmosphere; surfboards, lounge chairs, fake palm trees. We even have big screens set up that have a live Surf Cam™ on the San Diego beaches. Plus, flip-flops 24/7? My kind of job. Except in the winter. That’s cold.

Anyway, I’m one of the models there – and before you say “OMG MODEL HAWT” – no, it’s not that type of model. I don’t pose and let people take pictures of my half-naked body. At Hollister a floor model is the person that walks around going ‘can I help you?’ and folding clothes and whatnot. What a dumb fucking misleading title, am I right? Chaa. Most def.

So to say I was poor would be lying, but I could use some extra cash. Why? I dunno. I like to go to the arcade and kick people’s asses at DDR or Dance Freaks, but that’s about it. Ah, and I like food. I always buy a Cinnabon and a milkshake on my breaks. Healthy, right? Mmm, feel my six-pack!

No really, it’s there. You can check.

The bell brought me back to attention to the goings-on of the table, and I stood up and gathered my things. The others followed my example (I swear they’re like minions, I could probably lead a revolt against faculty) and we parted ways, waving and grouping together if we were going in the same direction. Me, I had P.E. next and none of those guys took that class of their free will. I, however, love that class to death.

Mr. Humphry is a pretty cool character, I must say. One day I came to school wearing a ‘I Love Hentai’ shirt and he stopped me and asked ‘is that appropriate?’ I asked him why he knew what hentai was, and ever since then it’s been a goofy relationship between us.

If I don’t want to participate in that day’s activity, I don’t. I lay on the floor off to the side and sleep. If I want to play, I play. If I want to listen to my CD, we put it in the surround sound. See, I don’t know why, but I have this inexplicable power at the school. I’m not a jock, and I’m most definitely not a straight-A student… maybe it’s my winning charm and good looks?

Hah.

Today was basketball, and since I’m too short to be any good at it (really, I’m smaller than most of the girls in this school), I didn’t even bother going into the locker room and changing. Besides, in the locker room I got typical geek-treatment from the jocks. It’s even worse because I’m feminine looking… I don’t even wear girl-pants or eyeliner! I’m sorry I’m prettier than your skankbag of a mother, boys.

Sitting down by the bleachers (they were folded in so there was room on the courts), I leaned my back against them and pulled out my sketch book, deciding on doodling. Right as I was in the middle of drawing Mr. Lalonde being fangoriously digested by a gelatinous monster some kid sat next to me and started talking.

I never figured out what his name was. I don’t even think Mr. Humphry knows. All I know is that he’s got glasses, he’s cute in the dorky way, and he’s got shaggy blond hair. He usually just talks about nothing; what he did that weekend, what cool movies are out, what he really thinks of that one jock over there hitting on the school slut…

He wasn’t annoying, no. In fact, he didn’t even expect me to talk back to him, which was pretty freaking sweet. Most everybody looked at me like a lost puppy, waiting for some sort of comment to keep going. It was as if this kid kind of didn’t know who I was. And it was nice. I liked being treated like a normal student. Glancing up from my drawing, I briefly wondered if Mr. Humphry let the kid sit out like he let me. The other was dressed down for the class but not participating… maybe the jocks were making fun of him.

Now that I think about it, this kid is pretty cute. He’s wearing black-rimmed glasses that aren’t thick, and not ‘emo’ by any means, just an honest solution to bad vision. His eyes look like a honey brown and his skin is slightly tanned. He’s talking about something, I don’t know what, but I set down my sketchbook and pencil and interrupt him.

“What’s your name?”

He stopped and blinked in my direction, as if he were surprised that I spoke to him. Really, I’d never said a word to him, just grunted in positive or negative effects.

“… Er… Shaun.”

“Shaun.” I smiled my dazzling smile, and – ah, was that a blush I spotted? “Jules.” I held out my hand and he took it, nodding as he shook it briefly.

“I know.” He said, and I blinked and raised a brow. As if sensing my question, he shrugged. “Just because everybody else fawns all over you doesn’t mean that I’m going to.”

I grinned. I like this kid. Scooting a bit closer to him, I glanced at the book that he had open and dangling from his hands. I could feel his warmth against my shoulder and side as I leaned over and nodded towards the novel.

“What are you reading?”

“I’ve told you,” Shaun said, as if exasperated. Did he really think I paid attention to what he said? “It’s Mark Twain’s greatest collections.”

“Ah.” I nodded shortly, then paused a bit. “… Like Huckleberry Finn?”

“Yes,” Shaun chuckled, and I decided that I liked that sound coming from his lips.

And before I get reprimanded, let me clear the air about Colby and myself – best friends. He’s not gay, not even close to it, but he lets me flirt. Maybe some day I’ll get him to cave. He’s gorgeous and my charm is irresistible.~

But this kid, Shaun. His behavior screamed CLOSET GAY, and I was going to bring him out of the closet… a bit forcefully.

“Hey, I’m thirsty.” I stood up and stretched a bit, holding my hand out to help Shaun up. I expected him to come with me. “I’m gonna get a drink in the locker room.” We had vending machines in the boy's locker room. Convenient, right? They got broken into a lot.

Shaun obviously knew that I was expecting him to follow me like a lost dog, and he fought with his pride and dignity for a moment before ignoring my hand and pushing himself up, marking his page with the satiny ribbon thing and setting it down. We went into the locker room, which was abandoned because the door was locked – I had asked Humphry for a key – and moved to the vending machine. Hm, the new G2 Gatorade looked good… now, what flavor?

As I seemingly contemplated, I was really formulating a plan. Operation: How To Get Shaun Out Of The Closet And Into My Pants. It seemed so simple, but it couldn’t be. Glancing towards him, he was looking at the hundreds of inspirational posters the teacher had hanging around the locker room, I assessed him. He was slight in stature, not too much taller than me… probably five-foot-four-inches, maybe. (I myself am only five-foot-one and a half)

Could I overtake him? Maybe. Probably in a wrestling match, he was scrawny, and I did do sports in my spare time…

Taking my chance when he turned towards me, I shoved him back into the wall and pinned him there. The look akin to a frightened deer passed over his features, but when I smirked a huge blush painted itself across his cheeks. I wonder, had he heard about this part of my reputation? Mindlessly taking advantage of good-looking, good-natured boys? Hm, apparently not, because when I kissed him, he gasped.

Cute.

Shoving my tongue into his mouth and kissing him furiously, I decided that I liked the taste of this boy. Innocent, like he’d never been kissed before. He resisted, only briefly, before giving into the kiss and relaxing a bit, his hands resting plaintively on my chest. I liked that. Tilting my head, I toned down the kiss into a gentle coaxing, trying not to scare the kid too much. Didn’t want him scarred forever, right?

I moved a hand to his hip, pushing his shirt up so my fingertips could caress bare skin. I felt him shiver beneath me, and I smirked against his lips as my tongue traced his bruised flesh lightly. I wasn’t much bigger than him… in fact I wasn’t bigger than him at all. But I definitely had the advantage, and despite my height and feminine looks, I’m quite the dominant creature. Letting my palm drift further up his skin, my fingers tweaked at a nipple briefly before skimming down again, tugging a bit at his shorts.

At this, he broke the kiss and his hands flew to his waistband, gripping it as he murmured a soft “no”.

I stared and raised a brow. No?

“No?”

Nobody had ever said no to me.

I can change his mind, I decided. Smiling and nuzzling the crook of his neck with a slight rumble in my throat, much like a purr, I started to kiss and lap at the skin generously. He seemed to be wearing down, I could at least shift his hands a little ways from his shorts. Pulling them down inch by inch, being discreet, I ground a bit against his leg. Of course I was already hot, it’d been at least a week since I’ve had sex last. Too long, honestly. He responded by letting out a strangled moan, and I plunged my hand beneath his underwear and gripped the base of his shaft.

He was half-hard, that was a good sign. I pumped once, then twice, and then dropped to my knees and kissed my way from base to tip. He shuddered, his virginal flesh hot between my lips as I took him in. He was average sized, and while I wasn’t a pro at deep throating, I was a master at improvising. Taking a bit more than half of him into my mouth, my tongue swirled along the underside as my free hand wrapped around his shaft and massaged firmly. My other hand moved up to cup his balls – yes, I’m that much of a faggot – and started to roll them between my fingers gently, with a warm caress.

I had to convince him that I cared a little bit, right? Even if it was just a ploy to get into his pants.

Sucking his cock was pleasant enough; to be honest I don’t really like to suck dick, but when it came to the art of seduction, it was a necessary tact. Even though it was disgusting. I’m such a hypocrite, to me there’s nothing better than lips around my arousal, but ehh. Can’t win them all, right?

So here I was, on my knees, my own arousal straining against my jeans. The friction of the head rubbing against my boxers and the denim was making me almost hump the thin air, and I pulled away from Shaun’s cock with a gasp, my cheeks slightly flushed as I looked up at him. He seemed confused as to why I stopped, and when I stood and kissed him on the mouth again, only a bit of his confusion ebbed away. He liked being ravished, I could tell. I could feel it. Reaching into my other back pocket, in that little hidden section that seems to be there for no reason, I pulled out a Trojan and traced the line of Shaun’s jugular with it, pulling away slightly so he could see.

His eyes widened, and I quickly hushed his protests by shoving my fingers between his lips.

“Shut up.” I said, my voice serious but my lips curving into a bit of a smile. What I said and did often contradicted what was going on in my head; in my mind by this point I’m laughing hysterically, but on the outside I need to fuck something and am trying my best to intimidate this kid.

Which, as I said, can be hard due to my effeminate looks and nature.

Fuck you, society.

He sucked on my fingers like a good boy, and I smiled in a mocking ‘good boy’ manner. Pulling the two digits from his mouth I reached down and pushed his shorts down to his knees, and he obediently pulled them off further and set them aside.

Wonderful.~

I unzipped before lifting Shaun’s leg up and wrapping it around my waist – this was going to be easy, because of our height difference – and then carefully maneuvered my fingers to his entrance. Ah, virgins, so tight and puckered… Carefully pushing a finger in, the hiss that left his lips fell upon my ears, but I ignored it. I’ve been through this before plenty of times, I know how to handle it, let alone how it felt. I admit that the first few times it hurt. But now I’m so loose you could probably stick the Eiffel Tower into my ass and leave room for a colony of prostate cancer cells to take tourist pictures.

Pretty image, right?

Not that I have prostate cancer. Ew.

Anyway.

My finger slipped in all of the way, and it was a bit hard since saliva really isn’t the best lube. Don’t believe those yaoi mangas you read, or even a lot of the slash fanfiction your dirty little minds absorb.

Saliva as a lube is a LIE! A filthy dirty lie. Unless you’re loose like me, then you need hardly any preparation at all. I’m a crafty soda pirate.

But I didn’t want this to be completely uncomfortable, and for a virgin like him, something like spit up his anus is a bit welcomed. It gives a sense of comfort, I think, to know that I’m at least not going to rape him raw. I could, but I would like for him to come back occasionally.

Eventually I slid in two fingers, and now was where we would cue the whimpering and whining and some tears. Yeah, it probably hurt like a bitch, but it would end soon enough, eh? In actuality, the pain for dear old Shaun will probably last until near the end, and by the time I’m finished he’ll need to be jacked off because the pain will be over… because I’ve climaxed.

Oh, homosexuals live in such a pretty world.~

Tearing the foil of the condom and rolling the rubber onto my cock, the self-lubricant on the stupid product gets all over my hand. If you’ve touched a lubricated condom, you know how icky it feels. It’s not even lube, it’s like a camel spit wad smeared over rubber and then cheaply scented. Definitely not the coolest thing ever, but it does make things a bit more slippery and pleasant on Shaun’s end.

Without hesitating I plunged inside of the tight heat, and Shaun nearly screamed out; I shoved my thumb into his mouth so he could bite on it while my other hand propped his leg up around my waist. A bit of an awkward situation, but once we started getting into the beat of things it’d get better. The thumb in his mouth was already a bit bruised and scarred, I always shoved it into their trap if they made too much noise. Poor appendage was abused too much.

But I didn’t care at this particular moment in time. Shaun was starting to lose his arousal but mine was throbbing in the confines of his sphincter. And oh, did it feel good. I pulled out just a smidge and then pushed back in, starting up a rhythm that was pleasant for me, but probably not too nice for Shaun. Soon enough he got into the swing of things when I shifted my hips and angled my thrusts and hit his prostate; he whimpered and bit down hard on my thumb and caused it to bleed, shifting his hips to try and meet my thrust. His erection was returning.

As we fucked against the wall I pumped him, surprised that he had adjusted so quickly. That just saved time and me the effort of the extra five minutes trying to get the guy to cum. Really, I had better things to do. Like finish that sketch of Mr. Walrus being digested by a fangoriously gelatinous monster. I’ve yet to draw the monster but I know what it’s going to look like; a venomous, angry blob of lime green jell-o.

Shaun’s whimpers were starting to echo off of the shower tiles and rows of lockers in the empty room, and I figured I may as well make it quick before anyone walking by hears our inconspicuous noises. I wasn’t subtle.

Thrusting in a few more times, my hips stilled as I felt the heat gather in the base of my arousal and shoot forward, the elating sensation of the pressure releasing sending a brief state of euphoria through my mind. Apparently I was so good that I didn’t even need to touch Shaun, as he came quickly after me, his seed coating his stomach and getting a bit on my shirt. Good thing I was wearing white.

Pulling out and away from him, I pulled the condom off and tossed it into the garbage cans. Sorry, little condom, but I don’t like to stew in my own juices for too long. Cleaning myself off with a towel and tossing it into the hamper, I retrieved another and tossed it into Shaun’s lap, said boy having slid down the wall and was now sitting on the floor, panting slightly. Raising a brow, I smirked and zipped up my pants and adjusted my belt, and Shaun looked up at me as if he were going to say something.

“What?” I asked, not wanting to wait.

“I didn’t know you were a boy,” he said, giving me a half-quirky smile.

Smirk widening a bit, I ran a hand through my hair (which reached about my nipples, when straightened completely; I resemble a j-rocker, people tell me) and flipped it over my shoulder, placing a hand on my hip and walking away.

“If I’d have known, I would have talked to you sooner!” Shaun called out after me as I opened the door and exited, smirking to myself.

Ah, the advantages of being me.

-0-0-0-

Fourth period was so. Freaking. Boring.

It’s bad enough that I have to be at school, but really. I could take six periods, fifty minutes long. But nooooo. We have four periods, eighty minutes long. Plus TAP, which is twenty-five minutes. This system fucking sucks, whoever thought of it should die.

In fact, as I thought this I drew a random stick figure with ‘inventor of school schedules dude’ written by its head up near the top of my sketch of Mr. Walrus. I drew flames around his body and a very, very distraught expression on his face.

“Mr. Nielson!”

I jolted slightly in my seat, then glanced up coolly at the teacher. She was an attractive woman, in her late twenties. All of the guys had a crush on her; all but me, of course. And that’s not because I’m not into women – really, I do like girls – but because she was a snot.

And the math teacher.

I fucking hate math.

“Yes ma’am?” I ask sweetly, setting my pencil down on my doodle. She stalked over to my desk and took my sketchbook from the surface, raising a brow and rolling her eyes at the drawing before slamming the notepad down in front of me.

“Stay after class.”

“Yes ma’am.”

It was a routine thing for us, this whole ‘stay after class’ thing. If it wasn’t for a doodle, it was for a spit wad. If it wasn’t for that, it was because I decided to glue Robby’s hand to a page in his book while he slept in the back.

Not my fault I was so agonizingly bored in this stupid class. Math won’t even help me when I’m older. I want to write a novel for crying out loud. And I’ll probably have someone do my taxes for me because I’ll be overwhelmingly famous in Japan. Where they don’t have taxes. … I think. I never lived there long enough, nor was old enough, to know if they pay taxes. Maybe it’s like Europe and it’s like a yearly thing? Fuck, I don’t even know what Europe’s tax system is like.

Gimme your gold!!

That’s what it is.

So the bell rang and everyone shot out of class like two dozen bullets, and I stayed in my seat, not even acknowledging that people were leaving and continuing their Wednesday elsewhere. Mrs. Green made her way to the desk next to me and sat down, crossing her legs professionally and giving me a stern look.

Sigh. This is where I make eye contact and apologize.

For what, I’m not sure. I think she likes to hear the words “I’m sorry” come out of my mouth for some sick, sadistic reason. I think she knows I have a huge pride-issue, and admitting I’m wrong is something that really irks me.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Green.”

“For what, Mr. Nielson?”

“For not paying attention in class.”

I still wasn’t really paying attention, I was just going through the motions. The doodle was still below my pencil, which was shading in the jell-o monster with acute detail. Mrs. Green leaned over to look at my drawing, and smiled.

“Is that Mr. Lalonde?” She asked, pointing to the walrus being eaten alive by the jell-o monster.

“Yeah.”

“Ah.” She smiled, knowingly. She understands me, on a certain level.

If she didn’t, she wouldn’t be worthy of being my sister, right?

“You should add the mole that he has on his second chin,” she suggested, and I snickered and drew a dot, with an obnoxiously long, curly hair poking out from it. We both laughed.

Yeah, my life was a perfect, normal little ray of sunshine.

Aren’t I just a swell kid?

-0-0-
A/N: Behold... THE DOODLE!!!
http://i27.tinypic.com/29cb0co.jpg
yeah I actually drew that. XD;;
behold my FAIL.
^.^