Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ A Fugitive and Me ❯ Twenty Questions ( Chapter 7 )

Chapter 7- Twenty Questions

 

I could hear voices in the other room, I couldn't make out the words but it was obvious that they'd finished their little fuck session. After what sounded like good-byes, I heard a door shut and then a few moments later saw a car pull out of the driveway through the window in front of me. I heard footsteps headed to where I was sitting and cringed, burying my face in my knees. I can't believe they'd had sex while I was here, how can someone, even a fucking prick, be that inconsiderate to my poor virgin eyes and ears?

 

“You're still here?” I heard the voice and grunted.

 

“I don't know the way home,” I mumbled, speaking under my breath and more to myself. I have every right to be bitter difficult bitch, just so you all know for future reference.

 

“Psh, well after walking in on that I would have expected you to leave anyway,” He crossed the living room and I refused to look at him as he walked in front of the couch. “You looked like you were scarred for life when you were standing in the doorway,” He seemed to think this whole incident was funny. Let me tell you, children, walking in on your history teacher having sex is not funny!

 

I wanted to think up the best insult I could in a short amount of time, something that would really piss him off. “You're gay,” That's all I got out. I'm pitiful… of all the things I could have said…

 

“So are you,” I was surprised by the answer. Not because I hadn't meant the insult in this case to imply homosexuality even though it fit, but because he knew. I looked up at him after he'd said it and he had this humored look in his eyes, and a smirk that spoke his evil knowing thoughts. I mean really, how do these rumors, true or not, get all the way to the faculty in five fucking days?

 

“Guess this means we have something in common then?” I felt the couch shift and turned my head to see that he was sitting on the opposite side, TV remote in hand.

 

“Oh goody,” I mumbled. “Don't get the idea that it means you get to put your old gross thing into my ass because of it, either,” I huffed. Just the thought of something like that made me shudder where I sat.

 

“Hah, don't worry, I prefer the bottom anyway,” I could hear the suggestiveness in his voice, and even though I was disgusted, I glanced at him. His eyes were focused on the TV as he flipped through the channels, chewing on his forefinger, he does that a lot so I've noticed. He changed his shirt, this one's white with pretty blue designs on it, it looks fitted too, more casual than what I usually see him in. I don't want to know why he's not wearing the other shirt anymore. After inspecting the changes my eyes traveled up to his face, I wonder if his hair is naturally that dark black or if he dyes it? It still looks greasy and sweaty and messy, unpleasant images return to my head. He winks at me. It didn't register at first when he did it, and by the time it did it was really to late to freak out, even though I was inside my head. I mean really, the pervert just winked at me! I should report him for pedophilic actions! Instead I just blush and look at the TV.

 

“When can you take me home?” I ask out of nowhere.

 

“When my ass stops hurting,” He mumbles in reply. I scoff to myself, deciding that I should just shut up, seeing as everything he says now is reminding me of… well, that.

 

I'm becoming more and more conscious of the fact that I'm not wearing a shirt, probably because I'm suddenly aware that there's a gay man sitting next to me. Almost in regret, I turn to him to ask yet another favor of him.

 

“Do you have a shirt I can borrow?” I asked, surely only looking half as uncomfortable as I really am. “One that's not pink,” I added in a mumble. I saw him roll his eyes and nod from the corner of my eye before tossing the remote next to me and lazily getting up. I picked up the remote and changed the channel to TBS, Ace Ventura: Pet Detective was on, TBS never fails me.

 

About three minutes later, he comes back and throws a black shirt on my head. Surprisingly, it's my shirt, the one I'd worn to the party the night before. Suddenly it all came back to me, the kiss, the fight with Miles, my life is so damn fucked up.

 

“I washed it last night, you can thank me,” He plopped back down on the couch. I ignored him. “Well, someone has damn good taste in movies,” He laughed at the Tv and leaned back, casually stretching his arm across the back of the couch. I didn't like how close it was to the back of my head, I wander what he'd do if I bit it.

 

“Ow, what the fuck!” He jerked his hand away, that's when I realized I actually had bitten him.

 

“Your finger touched my hair,” I scoffed, pulling the shirt over my head.

 

“Oh, my apologies, your majesty,” He mumbled. “Sorry I didn't put itching powder all over that shirt,” He was being all over dramatic, sucking on his finger as if I'd actually bitten hard. What a baby.

 

I grunted and focused on the movie. As funny as it is when Jim Carry acts like a secret agent in a mission possible movie, I can't even giggle. I'd really much rather be watching this at Mile's, but I vaguely remember him calling me a `heartless playing prick' last night, so that's really not an option. It seemed to really piss him off that I kissed Mel again, along side the fact that I did it only out of pity, but it's really none of his business.

 

“I really have to question the sanity of that actor,” Curtis laughed and it brought me back to reality. I'd been too deep in thought to pay attention before.

 

“Hey, Mr. Curtis?” I said slowly.

 

“I told you to call me Tom,” He replied simply. He's so casual and cool, it pisses me off, I don't even want to say anything anymore.

 

“Tom,” I practically spit it out. “Who told you?” I asked, glaring when all he did was smirk.

 

“Maybe I just knew,” He grinned, and then the son of a bitch winked again, I don't know what he's implying with the winking but it's creeping me out.

 

“You're fucked up,” I said conclusively, deciding that I no longer give a shit how he found out. It would after all be more productive to think up ways to get away with murdering him right here and now.

 

“Aww, but in the note to Mr. Orchard that I intercepted you clearly stated that you found me attractive,” He sung. It didn't register right away, the way he worded it was a little too much for my small brain to comprehend but when I realized what he was saying, my eyes widened.

 

“What the hell? You like digging through garbage cans?” I scowled. I distinctly remember him throwing it away.

 

“Maybe, or maybe I was just curious of what you so desperately didn't want me to read,” He fucking winked again.

 

“Stop winking at me, fucking pervert,” He's lucky I wasn't holding anything small and hard, because if so, I would have thrown it at him.

 

“I'm just messing with you,” He said in a calm, less mischievous voice, which was a good sign. “I don't do little boys,” I think I heard evil in those words, and somehow I didn't believe him.

 

“I'm not that little,” I mumbled randomly, having nothing better to say.

 

“Oh? Does that mean you want me to do you?”

 

“I thought you preferred the bottom?” I mocked. The thought of people sticking things in my ass is just scary, I don't know how someone can prefer something like that. I'm a pitiful gay boy, I know, we're supposed to like it up the ass, aren't we?

 

“I do,” He shrugged.

 

“Have you ever been on top?” I asked, using my more serious tone. “I mean, like, are you experienced with that kind of thing? Because I'd love some tips…” I shrugged. He's giving me a look of disbelief, and I don't know why. It's a simply request and he has to stare at me like I'm insane.

 

“Uh…” I think he just now realized that I was serious. “…Well… use a condom… and lubricant is nice, toys are fun…” He was gritting his teeth between fragments. “…You have to be able to hold your load for a bit, and well, rimming is nice… and take your pants off. I hate when a guy tries to stick it in with his pants still hanging…”

 

“Enough,” I cut him off. I got disgusted around the time when I heard the word `rimming'. I didn't know people actually did those kinds of things. I mean, in porn and movies and books and stuff, but in real life? I think I'm going to throw up. Someday I'm going to make copies of a list of things I will never do and give one to every boyfriend I ever get.

 

“You're the one that asked,” He laughed. “So I suppose that means you still have your virginity,”

 

“Well…” I paused, wondering if having your private parts touched by someone else was considerably any form of sex. I decided it wasn't. “No, unlike you obviously,” I rolled my eyes. “Just please tell me you at least knew the guys name?” What if he just went out and picked some guy out of a gay bar to bring home and fuck? What if they weren't dating, what if he's just a man whore! This is just not right, my history teacher is a fag and he has interracial sex… and probably non-interracial sex too! I feel all dirty just sitting next to him.

 

“Hmm,” He looked all thoughtful. “I think it was… John… Joan… Jean…” He was still trying to remember, and my jaw fell open. How do you fuck someone when you don't know his name, aren't you supposed to call out the person's name or something?

 

“That's gross!” I claimed. “How often do you do that!” I scoffed.

 

“Two or three times a week,” He shrugged.

 

“What!” I hollered, mouth a gape.

 

“I'm kidding!” He laughed. “Juan's an old friend of mine, he was bicurious so I gave him a spin in the world of man sex. He's now officially bisexual and prefers men,” He smiled proudly. “I'm so good,” He gave me a pedophilic smile.

 

“That's messed up,” I sneered, tightly hugging my knees and pushing my nose in-between them. I don't want to hear about this, I never should have brought it up.

 

“He's a pretty good lay too,” Tom leaned back and folded his arms behind his head. He seemed to be daydreaming, and at any other time daydreaming would have been acceptable, but in this case I knew exactly what he was daydreaming about.

 

“I dislike you,” I said plainly. I ignored his smirk, and was really too caught up in trying not to think about what he'd done to notice what he was doing. Before I could make a move he'd leaned over and closed the space between us, pushing his lips against mine. My eyes widened but I settled into it before protesting, his lips lingered there, and when I shifted he just tilted his head and deepened the kiss. Fucking hell, his lips are so soft, they're godly, he's not even moving them and I'm already giving into it. I put my hand on his shoulder and almost simultaneously, he pulls back.

 

“That's too bad,” He has such a sexy voice. “I was starting to like you,” I melt and then he's gone. All of the sudden he's no longer in sight, I looked around and behind me, how did he get out of the room so fast, I didn't even see him go! Whatever, though, I leaned back and slouched into the couch, smiling, he's fucking amazing.

 

Hell, he changed my whole outlook on him with one, simply kiss, he has to be pretty damn amazing. I mean, I thought Mellow Yellow was a good kisser, but obviously, I hadn't seen anything then. Miles had told me that kissing isn't all it's said to be, but I don't know where the hell he got that, kissing is amazing to me.

 

Wait a minute, am I really going to just accept the fact that I so obviously have more then professional feelings for my history teacher? I lick my lips, of course I am!

 

I hear keys jingling behind me and whip around to see Tom standing there wearing a jacket, looking at me like nothing had happened. Now I have to admit, he's attractive, I didn't see it before, really, not completely, but he's really lean and I love the way his pants fit.

 

“Fox,” He jingled the keys again and I snapped out of somewhat of a trance. “I said, are you ready to go?” He asked, I think he was trying not to smile. Damn, I think he caught me checking him out, that prick. He wasn't supposed to notice.

 

“Uh, yeah,” I got up from my seat quickly and straightened my shirt, running a hand through my hair. I kept my back facing him, not wanting him to notice how hard I was blushing. I don't get it, he's kicking me out now? It doesn't make sense, why doesn't he just ask me for a hot make-out session on the couch? I mean, as long as it doesn't get too hot. I know enough to know that you don't just kiss someone and then kick them out.

 

“Aright, well, I figured I'll drive up to the school, and you can tell me the way home from there, deal?” He strolled casually over to the door. I nodded, rubbing the back of my neck as I followed him.

 

He has a nice car, good taste in color too. It's a silver Nissan Altima, funny how he happens to own my dream car. We're half way to the school and I feel like shit, confused and disappointed in more ways than one. He's officially ignoring the fact that he kissed me, in his own house, on his own couch. I know that kisses don't always mean anything, I'm not that oblivious, but I wish this time it did. I feel like an idiotic schoolgirl, but I can't help it. He's old, he's got a life, has adult friends, not to mention he seems to be doing well financially judging by his large house and nice car. I'm just the student that sits in the front of the room, the one that happens to be gay, he must've just been messing with me. But I just can't get over how it felt when he kissed me.

 

We pass the school and I give him directions to Mile's house. I don't care if Miles is mad at me, I really need to talk to him now. Besides, he's probably gotten over it, he was drunk last night anyway.

 

I pointed out the white house that Miles lived in and he pulled up in front of it. I sat in the passenger seat once the car stopped, staring at my lap, wondering if I should do anything before I get out. Like, say good-bye, tell him I'll see him on Monday? Oh god, I don't want to see him in school Monday, how awkward is that going to be? Maybe it is best we forget about it, it is illegal after all.

 

“Aright, well, see-ya at school,” He was wearing this big dumb, fake smile, I wanted to slap it off of him. Or better yet, I wanted to kiss it off of him, but I suppose I'm still the same little prude, I don't think I could ever start a kiss. Unless of course it's with a little weirdo with no friends called Mellow Yellow, he's one of the few people in the world that doesn't intimidate me. So in saying that I guess I admit it, Mr. Cur… I mean Tom, intimidates me with his mighty authority, damn him for being a teacher.

 

“Bye…” I took off my seat belt and hopped out of the car. “…Tom,” I said almost grudgingly and then slammed the door. Why did he have to kiss me? I mean, really, and even more so, why did it have to feel so damn good? Being the generally apathetic person that I am, I don't really give a shit that he's a teacher and obviously at least ten years older than me. It'd be one thing if he was ugly, or like, a mass murderer, but he's a good-two-shoed schoolteacher and he's fucking hot beyond my imagination. Why the hell does he have to be so attractive, why the hell did I have to suddenly notice it? And of course, it all comes back to him kissing me, because if he hadn't I doubt I would have ever really noticed it, but on top of everything he has to be a fucking tease too. I bet he's laughing at me, laughing at the fact that he caught me checking him out too. I hope he crashes his car…

 

All of the sudden I'm standing in front of the door, looking at Mile's mother who had answered. When did I get on the porch? I don't remember ringing the doorbell. Oh well, here I am, why am I here again? My history teacher is hot, that's why. And Miles needs to help me make him not hot… something like that.

 

“Fox, I said you can come in,” Mrs. Harrison said, my eyes snapped up to her and I nodded quickly, hurrying into the house on her command. “Miles is up stairs with his video games, he said you might be dropping by today and that I should send you up,” She smiled sweetly and I nodded. Miles knew I was coming? That's odd, I never told him I was dropping by, in fact, I believe that the last thing I said to him was `I don't give a rat's ass what you think' but I don't remember last night very well after all.

 

I shrugged to myself and headed up the stairs, pausing when I reached the room that I knew belonged to Miles. I wonder if he'd be happy to see me, or if he'd just start scolding me about Mel again. I don't get why he cares about what happens to the little weird-ass, it's not like they're friends, Mel has no friends. God I am such an asshole. I roll my eyes and push the door open, seeing a big red `FIN' on the TV screen, just in time.

 

“Miles,” I got his attention and he whipped around to face me as if I'd scared him.

 

“Oh, hey Gorgeous,” He smiled. I rolled my eyes at the nickname. “Come on in and have a seat, I was just defeated by the giant fish lord, so I'm done,” He chuckled and picked up a bowl of popcorn, walking around the couch and sitting on his bed. Yes, Miles has a couch in his room, he says it's where his prude homophobic friends sleep. Meaning Dwayne of course.

 

“So what brings you to my humble abode, I heard you got kicked out of the party last night, you deserved it though. So where'd you go?” He cracked open a can of Pepsi and handed it to me, wow, he must've been expecting me. Either that or he just naturally always has two cans of Pepsi on hand.

 

“Well, actually that's what I wanted to talk to you about,” I said slowly. Oh god, where do I start? I mean really, Miles is accepting of a lot of things, pretty much everything I've ever told him he just shrugged off. But I've never really told him anything like this, I don't know what he thinks about Minors not being aloud to date anyone over the age of eighteen. I mean, I know he's totally supporting of my sexuality, but I don't like some random kid in the class, I like my teacher. Our teacher, it would even make it easier if he didn't know Mr. Curtis, but he does.

 

“Mmm, my little girly fox needs some more advise,” He pinched my cheek and puckered his lips. I scoffed and pushed his hand away, rubbing the side of my face, I hate when he does that.

 

“Well, I don't really know what happened after I got thrown out, but apparently I passed out on the street and someone picked me up. But he didn't know where I lived so I ended up in his place,” I turned to Miles, thinking maybe he'd have some sort of comment, but he was just listening closely, as usual. “Well, see, I found out he was gay, because he kind of made it obvious by having sex with some guy while I was there. I mean really, what kind of person has sex while he has guests over?” I scoffed. I heard Miles chuckle and continued. “So then we were sitting on the couch, arguing really, and then he…” I paused, wetting my dry lips and letting out a sigh. I just have to remember that Miles doesn't know whom it is I'm talking about, that makes it a little easier. “He just kisses me out of the blue, and then all of the sudden I realize he's all drop dead sexy, but he's pretending nothing happened. It really pisses me off to, because I kind of wanted to get with him or something, you know?” I sighed.

 

“Ah, so, does he have a name?” Miles asked.

 

“Well, yes, but I don't want to tell you that yet, we can call him Bob,” I said. This is what we always did, only usually we were talking about people we hate, or girls he liked. We always called the mystery person Bob, yes, even with females.

 

“Do I know him?” Miles asked, rubbing his chin as if in thought. I nodded idly.

 

“Hm, well he sounds like a whorish tease to me,” He said bluntly. I guess he's right but that doesn't change anything, it doesn't help.

 

“I know, Miles, but you should've felt the way he kissed. And oh my god, he's gorgeous, I mean, I accidentally saw him naked and holy shit, I never would have guessed someone like him… I mean, he would be that attractive. I didn't even notice it until he kissed me though, because he was always such a prick in my eyes,” I caught myself rambling yet I didn't want to stop. “God Miles, I didn't know kisses could feel that good,” I said almost dreamily.

 

“Sounds like seduction is his game, I really, really suggest forgetting about him, Fox. If he kissed you, obviously in such an amazing way, and then pretended it didn't happen, he was probably just teasing you. Besides, if he's that good he's probably had a lot of experience, one-night stands, multiple short-term boyfriends. Especially if he's as attractive as you say he is too,” Miles shrugged. “Unless you're only in it for the sex or something, I wouldn't get involved,” He concluded.

 

“I guess you're right,” I sighed. “But it just feels so good to finally like someone in this way, I mean, I finally find someone attractive other than random people on TV,” I shrugged.

 

“Well, that's life,” He sighed, resting his arms behind his head. “So do I get to know who he is?” He asked. I paused, now more than ever I didn't want to tell him, now that I'd completely spilled my feelings, what would he think if he found out I'd been talking about a teacher of all people?

 

“If you can guess,” I said.

 

“All right, let's play twenty questions,” Miles sat up with a big grin on his face. That's a little more than guessing, but I don't think he'll get it right anyway, he probably still thinks it's someone my age.

 

“All right, does he go to our school?” He asked. I nodded. “Okay, does he talk to me daily?” He asked. I paused a moment, and then nodded, yes he does technically. “Is he in more than one of your classes?”

 

“Homeroom included?” I asked.

 

“No,” He replied. I nodded my head back and forth. “Is he a sophomore?” No. “A Junior?” No. Oh shit, if he asks about all the class levels and I say no to each… shit! “Freshmen?” He asked. I remorsefully shook my head no. “Hm, then he must be a senior,” He got this look in his eyes. I didn't answer that question, hoping it was more of an assumption.

 

“All right,” He stopped to think about it. “Does he have… black hair?” He asked. I swallowed and nodded my head up and down. “Facial hair?” I said no, I don't think the five o'clock shadow counts as facial hair. “Glasses?” He asked. Shit, I nodded yes, how many seniors have no black hair and glasses? How many that talk to him daily? None, probably, agreeing to play this game was a bad idea.

 

“Hmm,” He has this sly grin on his face. “Is he a jock?” No. “Prep?” No. I think he's just humoring me now, he must know, I can tell by the look in his eyes that he has some kind of idea. “Goth?” No. “Does he like… Math?” No. “History, maybe?” Oh shit, I nod, he's got me. He has to know, so why the hell is he still asking questions? “Well Fox, I don't know, I'm stumped,” He concludes, wearing a big goofy grin. I gave him a pathetic look and he laughs.

 

“Dude, I knew the moment you said he wasn't a sophomore,” He laughed. “Because obviously you were talking about someone in your homeroom, and we all know that homerooms are divided by grade. Once I knew it wasn't a student, well, there's really only one decent looking Male teacher in our entire school,” He seemed so damn proud of himself. How dare he tease me like that, I slouched grudgingly, mumbling nothings to myself.

 

“So, Mr. Curtis is a homosexual pedophile, interesting. You can just tell by looking at him though,” He smirked.

 

“Tom,” I said defensively. Miles chuckled at me. “Anyway, he's not a pedophile, told me himself, who decided kissing was a sexual thing anyway?” I can't believe I just said that.

 

“Um, God I guess,” Miles shrugged.

 

“You don't believe in God,” I pointed out.

 

“Hmm, you're right, so I guess kissing isn't a sexual thing,” He decided. I shrugged to myself, I don't really care if it's a sexual thing or not, I was just trying to justify Tom's actions. I began to take a drink of pop. “So I could totally kiss you right now and still be straight,” Miles said slyly. I gagged and the pop spurted straight out of my mouth and nose, splashing all over the floor. I continued to choke, listening to Miles's hysterical laughter, how dare he see humor in my misery!

 

“Oh…” I coughed. “No… you couldn't,” I squeaked out the last bit and he pouted at me.

 

“Why not?” He stuck out his bottom lip. “What if I want to?” I expected a humorous smile but he just continued to pout. Was he serious? I hope not.

 

“Because if you did, I would report you to the police for sexual harassment,” I stuck out my tongue. “And, it would be cheating,” I concluded, wiping the pop that had dripped down my chin on my sleeve.

 

“But kissing isn't a sexual thing, remember?” He grinned.

 

“Yes it is,” I scoffed. He scowled at me and that was the end of it, good thing too, he was starting to piss me off. The last thing I need right now is my straight friend using me as an experiment or whatever to find out what it's like to kiss a guy. Or whatever the hell he's trying to accomplish by saying those things, other than pissing me off of course.

 

“You know, Dwayne and Terry look almost exactly alike, minus the difference in chest size. If he wasn't such a homophobe and they were both into incest I'd totally try for a threesome,” Miles was mumbling, but I made out every word and simply rolled my eyes.

 

“You're straight, Miles, don't try to pretend otherwise,” I grimaced. “Besides, being gay is my thing, and you can't have it,” I made a taunting face at him and he glared.

 

“You let Melvin and Mr. Curtis have it just fine,” He implied.

 

“Yeah, well you're not special like them,”

 

“Fine, I don't want your thing anyway, I got my own thing, and my own gay boy to mess with,” He grinned and poked me in the side. Son of a bitch, he knows I hate that. I swat his hand away, but that does no good, instead of stopping he tackles me on the bed and starts tickling me to death, once again. I'm laughing so hard I can't even tell him how much I hate him right now.

 

I ended up spending the night at his house again. He attempted to cuddle with me and I pushed him away. After hearing a sigh and shuffling around on his side of the bed, I think he finally settled in.

 

“Fox,” He said five minutes later. Damn him, and I was seconds from falling asleep too! “Do you really think I'm ugly?” He asked in a completely concerned and serious tone. I threw a pillow at him.

 

-0-0-0-

 

-Third Person-

 

“So you think he has a thing for you?” soft lips brushed over the bear, well-toned chest below him, coaxing a sigh out of the man he'd easily topped.

 

“Jesus, I don't know, Brady,” Tom groaned, feeling a warm tongue slide over his left nipple. “He seemed kind of pissed that I ignored him afterward, I think I left an impression at least,” His breath hitched and he choked a moan as Brady nipped at the erect nub between his lips.

 

“So,” Brady continued up to Tom's neck, leaving a trail of kisses along the way. “Bring him home and fuck him, it's not that hard. You said yourself he's a hormonal teenager, just touch his groin and he's all yours,” Brady began biting and planting kisses on Tom's collarbone where a small purplish mark was already apparent.

 

“Yeah but,” Tom arched his chest into Brady's touch, his right nipple being pinched between a finger and a thumb. “He's only seventeen, illegal, ya'know?” He shrugged. Brady smiled and crawled up further, planting a few soft kisses on Tom's flushed lips.

 

“You're so adorable,” He pressed his hard on against Tom's thigh and whined, burying his face between his neck and shoulder. “Since when do you care about whether something's illegal or not?” He chuckled, biting Tom's ear between words.

 

“Since… never,” Tom shrugged. “But you know, I don't really need another type of offense on my record. Not when I could just have you fuck me instead,” He smiled widely and brought Brady's face back in front of his. Brady pushed his lips firmly against Tom's rotating his hips, grinding their clothed groins together with the rhythm of the kiss. Tom arched into him rather suddenly and they both moaned, lips parting.

 

“So what's the problem then?” Brady continued the conversation, placing a series of kisses gingerly on the side of Tom's neck.

 

“Hmm,” Tom sighed in pleasure and smiled. “I guess I want more of a variety is all, not so great to just get fucked by one person, every other guy I know beside you has a girl or boyfriend,” He shrugged.

 

“You didn't need any type of variety when you were with `you know who' for all those years,” Brady informed. Tom bit his lip, Brady knew he didn't like talking about that.

 

“Yeah, well, he loved me, it's different,” Tom sighed, tilting his head to the site as Brady continued to bite his neck. “He said he did…” His voice trailed off.

 

“Well, by all means, I think you should go for this kid,” Brady mumbled between love bites. “You've got nothing to lose, you won't be here much longer. You could invite me over for a taste of him too, I'm sure he's got a young, sexy body,” Brady grinned widely and Tom chuckled, nodding in agreement. “So, can I take your pants off now?” He smirked, running his index finger along the rim of Tom's jeans. Tom smiled and nodded, leaning in for a peck on Brady's lips before lying back on the pillow again.

 

A/n- x3 I liked this chapter, I mean, I think it came out good? It was fun to write, just like the last, but it was also less filler-ish, longer too c:. You get to travel a little further into the life of Tom, and things start heating up a bit ;D. The next few chapters will start the main plot. They start slowly bringing things together. But keep in mind we still have quite a long way to go before the present and past meet c:.