Identity

IDENTITY

x

At eighteen I had already worn out my first valid ID card. It was quite impressive that I managed to stuff it in the back pocket of my jeans, considering just how tight they were.

Wandering hands kneaded against said pocket and I stifled a laugh. When drunk I was always a little easily amused.

“Lemme get you another drink.” A masculine voice breathed against my ear, and though I had swallowed more than enough alcohol already, I nodded easily.

Parker grinned and after teasingly running his hand up my spine, disengaged himself from my overtly sensitized body to grab me another pretty little drink. Left alone with the lingering gazes of young men, I propped myself up on a stool a bit shakily and drummed my fingers against a cold table’s surface. It wouldn’t be long until Parker came back, but I hoped he was quick enough to reach me before anyone else. In my state, I could easily be made to forget about my current interest with a few well-placed touches.

Reign was probably my favourite night club. I had been to my fair share, but it seemed the most gorgeous guys migrated to this one. I scanned the floor quickly, catching the eyes of a smirking blond and smiling dazedly back. Parker then returned with my drink.

A typical night at Reign.

“So come on, kid,” Parker leaned over, his breath a mix of mint and vodka. Kind of nauseating, honestly. “How old are you really?”

I sucked the life out of my straw, cringing only minutely at the tiny burn in my throat. Parker was still staring at me questioningly; amusedly. I humored him by licking the remnants of the drink off my lips before leaning in just as close. Kissing him sweetly, my tongue flickering out to caress his bottom lip, I waited until he began to open his mouth before pulling away.

“Eighteen.” I said smugly. I was well aware I looked sixteen – maybe seventeen – and sometimes I was turned away from clubs even with my completely truthful ID. Remembering it, I arched my body upwards to reach behind me and pull it out for proof.

Parker’s expression was mild amusement yet again, his dark eyes scanning the ID card without much interest. I suppose he didn’t really care if I was telling the truth.

I usually didn’t give out my real name to prospective one night stands, and Parker was no exception. I had used my favourite pseudo club name with him – Kent. I suppose that had been a bad idea.

“Ferris, huh?” I blinked in surprise, and it was his turn to look smug. “Never give out a fake name and then show your real ID.”

Damn.

That was the point I decidedly lost my cool. Sipping my drink a bit sullenly, I very nearly flipped him off to chat up that cute smirking blond boy.

Parker laughed a few minutes later, and the voice echoed in my ears. His features were becoming increasingly blurry as I became increasingly more drunk. I liked the feeling – it amplified sex and permanently set a bubble of laughter in my throat.

“Kent – Ferris – whatever it is,” Parker smirked, his fingers running down my inner arm. I had finished my drink by then and was loosely sucking on the straw, glazed eyes a dark blue with lust. “I have a place near by –”

I wondered how many times I’d heard that phrase as I followed Parker eagerly through the exit. Probably too many – since I’d dropped high school and quit my job, I pretty much mooched off my brother and went clubbing, quite literally, every night.

Once we reached the parking lot I was shivering. Walking even the slightest distance clad in nothing but a tight t-shirt and skimpy jeans was never pleasant. I would know.

I was quite ready to jump into his Honda, blast on the heating and be ravished when Parker pressed me up against the passenger door with his firm body. I suppose I didn’t mind being ravished first.

He had a musky, manly smell to him that made me imagine he had a wife somewhere and perhaps a kid. As he looked to be no older than twenty-five, I figured he probably knocked up some girl, had no chance to explore his sexuality and fucked teenage boys at clubs every other weekend to make up for it.

I couldn’t complain.

He kissed my mouth hard and unforgiving with both of his hands squeezing my ass. I was already half aroused from copious amounts of alcohol and Parker’s former ministrations at the club, so moaned quite pathetically at the contact. I could feel his eyes laughing as he snaked one of his hands away to run it up my chest.

Cold air brushed up against my nipples as he rode my shirt as high as it would go, caressing the flesh with callused fingers. A twinge in my cock made me gasp and Parker left my open mouth alone to attack my neck with an unbearably skilled tongue.

My clothes seemed stifling and I writhed underneath Parker heatedly, hands flinging around his neck for some semblance of support as teeth bit into the soft skin of my neck. I winced, fingers meshing into short black hair as a ripple of pain chorused down my spine though it seemed to melt into pleasure that spread through my groin as Parker soothed the abused flesh with a soft suckling pressure.

A whimper escaped my mouth and I hugged Parker closer, his erection warm against my stomach. My eyes opened briefly to stare at the fuzzy sky with its equally hazy stars as I tentatively let a hand drop to delve underneath the waist of his jeans. He let out a low growl, pulling his frame backwards a bit so I could unzip and free his cock.

“Fuck.”

His reaction was immediate as I gripped the hard length firmly. I pumped slowly at first, feeling his lips trail a wet path to my chin as he breathed harshly against my mouth. I kept my eyes open, fingers curling around the head of his cock as he nuzzled the crook of my neck.

I felt Parker thrust against me, speeding up the friction so I jerked him faster. He was moaning regularly, lips kissing my own every so often or opting instead to run his hands along my shoulders. The touches sped up my heart rate, a rush flooding through my own erection and I leaned my head back against the sharp coldness of his car.

My fingers grew slippery with his precum and I didn’t think twice as I slid down the door, his arms reaching out against the car for support. He was murmuring encouragement as I continued to pump his cock, my other hand squeezing his balls gently before I stopped all movement.

Smiling up at the other man, I slowly dragged my thumb across the slit. My blond hair was immediately assaulted by eager fingers as he groaned low in his throat. He didn’t even have to apply force, my mouth wrapped around his cock of its own accord.

I tried to memorize the noises he made as he fucked my mouth. It was brutal the way he pushed his cock forward until it reached the back of my throat, and I felt myself glisten with anticipation. I imagined his cock pulsing against my entrance – ripping through me just as hard.

I sucked sharply, down to the base swallowing him whole before alleviating the pressure to just the tip of his cock. Parker was more than appreciative – I could tell by the consistent grunts of satisfaction – and I could sense he was reaching completion. Quickening my pace, I flattened my tongue against the slit, tasting him and teasing him all at once.

He came with breathless moan, low and guttural. It made my insides twitch and my cock pulse. My eyes opened as I stared at a tangle of dark hair, swallowing his release. Pulling out half way, I continued to tease the sensitive head with my tongue, when I stopped suddenly in surprise.

Clearly I was a bit of an exhibitionist but I didn’t expect to have an audience that night. Pulling my mouth off Parker’s softening cock, caressing his shaky legs, I tilted my head at the boy staring at us with a wide open mouth – obviously shocked.

With an alluring smile directed at the figure who just realised he’d been caught, I gave Parker’s slippery length one last kiss.

The boy turned his back and ran. Pretty fast too.

After a minute, Parker pulled out of my grasp and buttoned his jeans. He grinned at me and pressed a hand against my clothed erection.

With his other hand he opened the car door.

“I’m going to fucking ground you into my mattress.”

I was going to hold Parker to his word.

* * *

Shit.

I forgot Bryan didn’t work on Sundays. With my lack of responsibility, I tend to forget what day of the week – even what month it is. Everything, to me, was just a hazy fog of ecstasy.

Dropping my keys onto a small coffee table, I sighed and shucked off my shoes.

“Fuck, Ferris.” Bryan ran a hand through his hair – blond as my own. Although, his was wasn’t tainted with black like mine was.

“Sorry, sorry.” I walked tiredly to the kitchen for some water. At three in the afternoon my hangover was mostly gone, but I still felt like shit. “Lost track of time.”

Bryan was seething. I might have promised him I’d stop being so promiscuous. Unfortunately, I always break my promises. “Who did you whore yourself out to this time, huh?”

I paused, setting my glass down on the kitchen table and regarding my brother with a slightly surprised blue gaze. Much lighter and clearer than they had been the night before. “I don’t whore myself out.” I said stiffly.

“Oh yeah? Maybe you should start. Get some money and pull your weight around here.” Bryan looked dangerous as he pulled on his coat. “Otherwise I’m afraid you’re going to have to move out.”

I must’ve really pissed him off. He’d never threatened to kick me out – I was his beloved baby brother. The one who always got his way because Bryan felt endlessly guilty about the fact my parents had disowned me when I was sixteen and discovered as gay.

“What? You can’t! Bryan – ” I followed him back to the door, feeling confused and angry all at once. “What’s wrong all of the sudden?”

Bryan let out an angry breath of air and turned to face me, brown eyes dangerous. “Do you know a Parker Robbins?”

My face contorted into an expression of confusion. Parker Robbins... What the hell? Of course I didn’t know a Parker Robbins.

But then, I vaguely started to remember just last weekend. A guy named Parker, a delicious fuck and ... an audience member. Oh fuck – was it a cop?

Bryan must’ve seen the recognition on my face because he groaned resignedly. “Can’t believe mom was right – Parker Robbins was arrested early last night on account of rape, Ferris. Do you get that? Rape.”

I thought back to Parker and his soft moans and kisses. Surely the guy was horny and deprived, but no rapist. “It must be a different Parker,” I explained.

Bryan held up a hand to silence me. “Ferris, the point is, even if it wasn’t... it could’ve been. You’re playing a dangerous game and refuse to follow my rules. I’m sorry, but until you grow some shame, I can’t trust you in this house.”

Shame? I had plenty enough shame. Just because my brother was a prudish accountant with a fiancé and perfect life didn’t mean that I was a fuck up.

“This is about Jasmine, isn’t it?” I called out to his retreating back. “You just want to get rid of me!”

He stopped walking, still a few feet away from the apartment’s elevator, and turned around. The look in his eyes assured me that I had gone too far. After a stare, he shook his head and walked the rest of the way. I knew it wasn’t about Jasmine – Bryan sacrificed everything for me – but sometimes cutting remarks were the only way I knew how to deal with things.

With another sigh I slammed the door shut and retreated to my bedroom. I couldn’t get the image of Parker offering me drinks all night out of my head. Who knows what were in them?

I was a bit sickened that I wouldn’t realise if I was being drugged and raped. I’d think it was just consensual sex.

It wasn’t a comforting thought to fall asleep to, but somehow I managed.

* * *

When Bryan returned home that night from his date, I was curled on the sofa with the T.V. remote sitting in my lap. The eleven o’clock evening news was on and it echoed in the background as Bryan pursed his lips.

“Look. I’m sorry. You know you can stay here as long as you need to.” He said in a rush, still obviously angry but also a bit apologetic as well.

Instead of relief I felt numb. “It was the same Parker.” I said a bit dully.

Bryan’s mouth opened as if to say something, but no words came out. Instead, he let out a huge sigh and sat next to me on the sofa, wrapping an arm around me and letting me cry.

* * *

I chewed my lip nervously. The restaurant was fine dining – with candles and shit. I felt almost out of place in my own clothes – neat grey slacks and a fine fitting navy v-neck. But I didn’t want to work at some crappy fast food place – I wanted a job that I could respect.

A man wearing an extremely nice suit wandered toward me and I sucked in a sharp breath.

“Mr. Ducette?”

I straightened and nodded with a bright smile. He grinned back and led me to a far room after a firm handshake.

“So, Ferris is it?” His blue eyes regarded me curiously. I guessed he was in his early thirties.

“That’s right.” I wondered why I was so nervous. Drinking always loosened me up – too bad drinking before an interview was never a valid option. I licked my lips, pulse quickening as he read over my skeleton-like resume.

Then I waited for the verdict.

Apparently, I was more persuasive than I thought. I think I hated myself briefly when not fifteen minutes after our handshake I was clawing Mr. Setton’s clothes off. He did the same to me, running hands up my bare torso and tossing my newly bought clothes onto the floor.

His dark hair was caught between my fingers as I propped myself on his desk, legs spread for easy access. I felt his mouth on my neck and leaned back, allowing him touch me wherever he wanted.

Mr. Setton smiled almost cruelly for a moment before inserting a digit into my entrance. I felt my face heat up as my semi-aroused cock grew rigid and painfully hard. He was impatient enough for me to wonder why he even bothered preparing me – it was just as painful the way he jabbed his fingers inside, down to his knuckles. I moaned half-heartedly, my back hitting the cold surface of his desk as he positioned himself.

I hadn’t been properly fucked since the night with Parker and I was almost ashamed that I was so willing, whimpering against his rough kisses. I met each of his thrusts with a sharp undulation of my own hips, eyes wide and unseeing as I stared at the ceiling.

He managed to hit my prostate a few times, and my toes curled as I came. My eyes finally squeezed shut as a wave of pleasure washed over me, the fingers jerking my cock slowing down to tease the spent tip. I groaned as he continued to pull in and out, his handsome face contorted into an expression of pure ecstasy as he paused in the middle of an exceptionally shaky thrust.

I felt him come inside me and clenched my muscles around him, my fingers collecting the sticky mess that was spread all over my abdomen, dazedly.

After a moment of staying in that position, Mr. Setton pulled out with a groan. I left the office with messy, purely blond hair and a rumpled outfit.

I also didn’t get the job.

* * *

I was pleased to see that the owner of the local film store was a woman. She beamed as she ushered me inside.

I suppose when I’m comfortable – and not attracted to the person I’m talking to – I could be somewhat charming. I got the job on the spot.

Admittedly, it was a shit job. I didn’t know crap about video games, and clearly you had to have some in depth knowledge. One kid actually had the audacity to laugh at me. Bastard.

But, like every other Friday, I was stuck at the cash register, leaning an elbow on the counter with my head in my hands whilst flipping through some movie reviews. A few customers entered to wander around the store and I ignored them.

A few minutes later my eyes glanced at the clock, irritated. My co-worker was supposed to have arrived already and I was worried that the Friday rush was going to come and go without said arrival. It wasn’t easy to handle a hoard of customers all on your own. Luckily, a teenage boy dressed in a blue polo with the film-store logo stitched onto it entered the doors quite frantically, short brown hair mussed from what must’ve been an exhausting run.

“Sorry I’m late.” He panted, running fingers through his hair and then wiping his forehead.

I grunted noncommittally and went back to my reviews. The kid was persistent in his apologies, though.

“I had to pick up my sister from daycare – my mum’s car stalled.” He opened his station, before turning around to face me, relaxing against the counter.

Deciding to give him my attention because he was clearly counting on a response, I smirked. “I’m surprised you can even drive yet. You’re what? Fifteen?”

“Fuck you!” It wasn’t said with much malice but more of a resigned irritation. “I’m seventeen.”

I grinned. Truthfully he looked sixteen at the youngest, but what else is there to do at work if you can’t piss off your co-workers? “Oh yeah? Guess I’ve got seniority.”

The boy – his nametag said Eliot – snorted. His eyes met mine and they flickered with a brief wave of surprise, before he looked away. “I’ve been working here a lot longer than you.” His voice had lost its brazen quality and turned astonishingly meek. I raised a brow at the furious blush that was crawling over his cheeks.

“What?” I was never subtle. “What’s wrong?”

Eliot quickly glanced back at me, eyes wide like he’d been caught in the midst of something, and I was met with my own shock. So much for a clean start – I had been hoping no one would find out I was such a whore.

“Shit.” I sighed and straightened my back, remembering clearly the night I’d scared away – and most likely provided jack-off material to for months – a boy who had a striking resemblance to Eliot. I’d been with Parker that night.

He didn’t respond and pretended to busy himself with tidying up brochures, offer packages and application forms. His hair was short enough that I could just see the reddish hue of his neck and after a minute of awkward silence I tried to recharge the conversation.

“So, did you practice that line?”

Eliot’s spastic hands paused and he slowly tilted his head to glance at Ferris, green eyes shrouded in confusion. “Huh?”

“About your mom and her car.” I ran a hand through my hair, sorely missing the streaks that usually decorated the otherwise dull strands. Walking over to the other, I smirked slightly and punched in my ID number on the till next to his. “I really don’t care about excuses – you can tell me.”

Eliot seemed surprised, but eventually turned to face me fully. I was relieved that he was resorting back into his ordinary persona, because I liked this job. Sure, the customers, the location, the pay – it was all crappy, but it was low-tension and I needed that. Awkwardness just sent that all to Hell.

“Err. Not a lot,” Eliot finally relented, smiling. “Just on the way here. You didn’t buy it?” He asked sheepishly.

I smiled back. He was letting it go, and I wasn’t sure if he’d ever tell anyone, but for now things were good. “Nah, I did buy it.” I said raising a brow. “Until now, anyway.” Eliot looked slightly miffed, but mostly good-natured. “But don’t worry, I won’t rat you out.”

It was sort of a double promise – an expectation. You keep my secret, I keep yours kind of thing. Eliot seemed to understand, because his own expression became almost comical in its seriousness.

I found I liked working with Eliot. He was refreshing. He was in eleventh grade and had a girlfriend named Penny. It was the normalcy I needed.

So when the time came for inventory, I wasn’t totally annoyed about it because the little dork would be there too. For some reason, even though Eliot would be my age in a couple of months, I always felt older than him. I think all those nights out, and the rawness life had treated me with thus far, aged me. It was a horrifying thought.

At least metaphorical age didn’t come with wrinkles.

We did inventory on Friday nights after we closed, once a month. The little backroom stuffed with old DVDs and retail became our sanctuary for a good two to three hours. I wondered what it was like with VHS around – I would have never wanted to rewind tapes for hours. The redundancy was stifling.

“So, you score with Penny yet?” I smirked. I’d learned early on in our relationship that Eliot was a virgin. It frustrated him that his girlfriend wouldn’t take the next step until graduation, even though that was only a month’s time away. I realised if I had kept up with school, I’d have been graduating too, but the strange melancholy I felt eventually dissipated.

Usually when I teased him, Eliot would roll his eyes and toss a few empty DVD cases at me before shrugging it off. I noticed he was exceptionally quiet as he scanned a copy of Fight Club.

“No, but Michael Jetson did.” He said bluntly. There was rage written all over his face, behind the cold mask of nonchalance.

My shock caused me to toss my own scanner onto the table – a much needed break – and I raised a brow. “I thought Penny had morals.” I said with a sigh. Not that I could judge anyone ... but she and Eliot really matched.

Eliot tossed his gun away too, and I noticed him watching me really intently. An old feeling of intensity burned in my abdomen and I had to look away. It reminded me too closely of those nights like those with Parker. I had given them up to try and start actually dating. I mean, I joined Westland High to upgrade my high school marks mostly to finally socialize with ordinary people again, and my last ‘boyfriend’ had lasted almost three weeks.

“Eliot?” I questioned as he flickered his gaze away, rubbing his palm against the denim of his jeans.

“I can’t stop thinking,” he began, his neck growing warm and red as he raised his eyes back to mine. “About that night at Reign.”

My mouth opened to interrupt, my insides prickling with a desire that I had repressed since meeting Eliot. My boyish hormones sped up as he licked his lips, breathing shallowly as if unable to voice what he wanted to say. “Eliot...”

“You know, I figured I was bisexual. I liked touching Penny, feeling her curves... but I had tried to sneak into Reign with a fake ID because...” He trailed off, a blush curving onto his cheeks as he breathed in deeply. “At night... I think of you. Of that look you sent me.”

His green eyes finally locked on my wide gaze. After a shaky breath, he leaned forward, his chair scraping an inch across the floor as he did so. I didn’t notice my mouth was still open until his tongue connected with my own. And I couldn’t help it. I gasped as he shifted from his own chair to my lap, straddling my thighs and deepening the kiss in a way that made me wonder how Penny could have ever given him up.

“Can you...” Eliot’s lips disconnected with mine, and I would have voiced some sort of discontentment if his hands hadn’t dropped to my waist. His fingers curled into my jeans so that his thumbs hooked onto the leather of my belt, pulling down futilely. He groaned a bit in frustration, one of his hands releasing their sensual hold to unzip the denim.

He never finished voicing his desires. Instead, he kissed me again, pulling my lips between his and caressing the swollen flesh with his tongue. My mind felt drunk, feeding off the feel of the bumps of Eliot’s spine beneath my fingers. He shivered against me, pressing his hips against mine and grasping for some sort of fiction.

Somehow, I knew what he wanted me to do. I remembered him watching me all those months ago, his stricken face focused so intently on what I was doing that his fantasy was easy to read. I pushed him back onto his chair, and he groaned in surprise, the wide look of his eyes illustrating rejection. “Can I what?” My voice was husky, the tone of it unable to exceed that of a raspy whisper. Slipping off my chair, I felt my knees hit the hard tiles of the floor but barely winced.

Eliot blushed, his hair damp and disheveled from sweat. I shifted closer toward him, my hands slowly prying apart his knees before reaching for the button of his jeans. Pulling them down, I reached for his erection through his boxers, listening to his attempts at holding back his moans.

I’d never been in the position in which I had to approach sex carefully. Usually, I’d tear off the guy’s boxers and begin without any restraint, but there was something about Eliot that held me back. Instead, I ran my hands up his bare legs, and stretched to place warm kiss on his jaw.

He opened his eyes briefly, and the distraction was enough for me to pull down the remainder of his clothing, freeing his cock. He was fully hard, squirming carefully on the chair, and I placed one hand on his thigh to hold him still while the other wrapped around his shaft.

Stroking idly, I rubbed my lips against his tip, poking my tongue out to test his resolve. A disjointed noise escaped from his throat, but other than that he was quiet, panting expectantly. When my stroking became too little attention, and he finally bucked forward, I bent my head low and took him in my mouth. I was glad at that point that it was just the two of us in the store, because his moan would have attracted quite a lot of attention.

I went slow at first, taking him halfway in before applying pressure as I suckled slowly toward his tip. His fingers threaded through my hair as he jerked his hips to thrust deeper down my throat. I only managed to lock eyes with him once, the green orbs wide and frantic with lust, because the rest of the time his head was thrown back with his eyes tightly shut.

“Ferris...”

His groans became regular, and his fists enclosed around the armrests of his chair as he lifted his hips off the seat to buck into my mouth. I had to hold him still once I slipped my tongue off his cock and rubbed it against his balls, my free hand massaging his sac gently. I don’t think either of us predicted his climax.

Eliot’s orgasm ripped through him hard, and his body flattened out in the middle of thrusting as though he wasn’t ready for it to come. My mouth was back on his cock, and I felt the sticky fluid trail from my lips and onto his shaft as I pulled my mouth off the sensitive head. He groaned exhaustedly, one hand untangling from my hair and stroking his softening length to sooth it.

Swallowing, I breathed in deeply to collect air in my deprived lungs. Eliot wiped his cum on his jeans, still petting his tired cock as his glassy eyes stared at me in fascination.

“Fuck.”

I kissed the tip of his half-hard length, before trailing my mouth up to his. “Exactly.” I smirked slightly, deciding it was my turn to straddle him.

He laughed a little, wrapping his sticky hands around me to acquire a better angle to my lips.

Needless to say, inventory became our favourite part of the job.

And, I lost my ID card.

x