Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Proof ❯ Chapter Two ( Chapter 2 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Chapter Two

“Hi,” Jake greeted Gone with a cheeky grin, as if they hadn't come to school together, crammed in the backseat of Bart's Chevy Knight. Both of them were ambling up to the school's side entrance, Chase hanging off of Bart while the other teen complained and tore him away with one hand. “I haven't seen you since last night.”

Gone heard himself giggle, quickly covering it up with a clearing of his throat. “Don't play that with me. I can't keep a straight face.”

“Me, either,” Jake confessed, reddening before laughing at himself. His skateboard was out of his pack and at his feet with a loud clack of sound. With the freshly cleared sidewalk, his roadway was free to ride before the first bell rang. “But, y'know, I always get all dumb whenever I see you in the morning. It's like, this, brand-new start?”

Gone reached out to snatch his jacket before he could skate away, just wanting that excuse to touch him. Then, self-conscious as to how they might appear to others, he quickly retracted his hand, shoving them into his pockets before they could do anymore clinging. “Me too. I, uh, like your hair like that.”

“Hah! Really? I totally messed it up—see? Toothpaste.”

“…Why do you have toothpaste in your hair?” Gone asked, reaching up to pull dried pieces from the messy shag before Jake shooed him off, moving to push away on his `board.

“Long story. I—” Before Jake could finish, he shuffled forward at the feel of a snowball striking him squarely in the back of the head, Gone sputtering at the feel of slush hitting him seconds after impact. “OW! Bart! You're supposed to PROTECT my body, not abuse it!”

“STAY OFF THE `BOARD!” came Bart's cranky reply.

“You have a barnacle on your ass,” Gone replied.

“He is so mean. How am I going to get my thirty minutes of exercise in if I can't skate? Oh my god, I'm going to get so huge if I don't work off my sip of Dew,” Jake complained, picking up his `board. “Just because I broke my arm once in his presence…”

“THREE TIMES!”

Gone snickered, reaching up to straighten the collar of Jake's jacket before the other could move away from him. “He's obviously not good at his job.”

“I HEARD THAT!”

“He acts like he's never been my age,” Jake mused.

“QUIT DOGGING ON ME!”

“Why does he yell all the time? He's like an old man standing on his porch, making sure people don't walk on his lawn.”

The pair snickered together once they heard Bart's growl, the teen marching up to the doors before pausing short and then turning to glare hard at them, gesturing that they follow him.

“He's so fun to mess with,” Jake said on a snicker, reaching out to grab Gone's arm and dragging him after him. He then abandoned him and reached for Bart, but the other teen opened the doors and shoved him inside. He pulled the door shut on Gone, the other protesting loudly before following after them. Once inside, Bart pulled ahead, Jake turning to curl an arm companionably around Gone's shoulders.

“Were you looking at my ass? Isn't it manly?” Jake then laughed, feeling his face warm with embarrassment. He didn't think he'd get used to the fact that someone thought he was attractive.

Gone felt himself flush. “No,” he said quickly, tripping over his own large feet, nearly taking the accident-prone teen down with him.

“Hah! Liar!”

The main hall was filled with students, all of whom were readying themselves for their first class. Shouts, laughter, and slamming of lockers overwhelmed any indication anybody had noticed their closeness or spoken words.

Jake grinned as he looked around to see if anybody was watching them. As the usual, many of the kids in the hall were studiously trying to avoid being caught in his general area. After last year's fiasco with the mercenary Chuyuri, many of them were actively trying to avoid him, as if they were going to be caught in some sort of crossfire. It didn't bother him as much, anymore, considering he now had Gone to pay attention to.

He then looked for Bart, seeing that he was busy correcting his shag by examining his features in a trophy display case nearby. With a light grip on Gone's jacket to draw him close once more, he hissed, “Meet me in the bathroom by the gym. I need to make-out with you.”

“Don't say that out loud!” Gone protested, blushing as he looked around to see if anybody had overheard. “Okay. Let me get my stuff for my next class.”

“You always do that. Playing hard to get, but then—HEY! Jameson! Give me some of that!” Jake interrupted himself, leaping away from Gone so quickly that the other teen stumbled. Jake dashed away from him to crash into a couple of jocks near the lockers, one of whom protested loudly as he held a box of fund-raising candy away from him. The loud thud of their crashing caused some kids to duck with their hands over their heads.

Bart whipped around with a low expletive, saw what was happening, and then performed a mock lunge toward a student that he caught gaping at him. After the freshman took off, Bart went back to grumbling over the hang of his hair.

Gone frowned, feeling that familiar sensation of jealousy curl in his stomach. Jameson pushed and shoved at Jake, the two of them talking and laughing over each other as they negotiated prices.

There were moments when he felt absolutely insecure when he compared himself to those that Jake had confessed to crushing on. He looked nothing like the jocks, the casual athletes that had caught the older boy's eye. He was also nothing like them—preferring to avoid strenuous, athletic action than engaging in it.

“Don't be so jealous. The man always comes home to the first wife,” Bart muttered as he sauntered over. Teens moved around him with nary a complaint, not wanting to bother with the only known Superhuman in Highlands High.

“Will you shut up? And it's not like that,” Gone added, still frowning. He didn't look up at him—it secretly infuriated him when Bart looked down at him.

“Stop acting so jealous, then. Glaring at everybody just because he talks to them.”

“I'm not jealous. And I'm not glaring!”

“Staring hard while he talks to another guy is not glaring?” Bart asked on a scoff. “`Tch.”

“What cunning skills of observation. No wonder you're repeating your senior year. And third, ew, quit watching me!”

Bart scowled. “Listen, you—! I'm not repeating ANYTHING. And second? I never went to school in the first place. And third, you're not interesting to look at.”

Gone's eyes widened with mock surprise. “One would never know.”

Bart wanted to slug him. But Mr. James had given explicit orders not to touch this particular person, as engaging battle with non-combatants happened to be cowardly. Among other things.

He was only able to attack verbally. “You do that. Get all insecure. What's Jameson got that you don't? Oh, yeah, right, everything. Balls, muscle…happiness…”

Gone snorted, walking away but saying loud enough for Bart to hear, “You would know about balls, you're the only homo here.”

Bart growled, moved to go after him, and then forcefully stopped himself. With a heavy exhale, he stomped toward Jake, grabbed the collar of his shirt and shoved him towards their next class.

“What's the big idea?! I had Snickers going for me! Wait! Bathroom! I need to go to the bathroom!”

“Stow it. We're late.”

“I could have gotten you one, too. Ah, well, I guess…” Jake looked wistfully over his shoulder, searching for Gone, but guessing that the younger teen had slipped off to class. The bell rang at that moment, and he heaved a downcast sigh as he settled into Bart's naturally long strides.

0o0o0o0

He was such a small person. Very slight in build, skinny limbs, small stature. Every time he was forced to speak aloud in class, his voice cracked, causing him to redden and grow flustered, which only encouraged teasing by their classmates. He wasn't attractive—he had small, crowded teeth that seemed to overwhelm his small mouth, like some troll or wrath; ears that poked away from his head; too thick eyebrows over too big eyes; his features seemed too crowded. But he was very clean and neat, performing various actions precisely, thoughtfully cleaning up activity areas without being forced to by their teachers. The girls were intimidated by his size and by his shy silence; the boys didn't know what to do with him, how to interact without making fun of his features, studies or size.

Winston Tweedy had known Gone for over five years. They talked in shared classes, but it was only Winston verifying an instruction or two.

Winston went by his last name, Tweedy. A senior set to graduate, his mixed classes with lower classmen had him involved with most of the students in Highlands High. As such, he was pretty familiar with all the kids in his school. Outgoing, a first-chair trumpet player and a star first baseman, Tweedy could be considered by some as popular. But he didn't think of himself in that sense; he got along well with others and had his share of teenage drama.

He had a few close friends, he attended parties, got along with his parents, and he discovered his sexual orientation in seventh grade. It was definitely something that he didn't disclose with anybody, considering that Highlands was a very small community. He was set to attend Oregon State in the fall, and as such was looking forward to exploring his sexuality in its fullest, considering that he was set on not coming back.

About six foot, with shaggy sandy-hair, green-eyes and a freckled face from all the time he spent outdoors perfecting his sport, Tweedy was considered good looking. He was built like an athlete and had a decent sense of style; he preferred wearing orange, his favorite color. But he was also a little insecure over his image, and hoped that perhaps a little work done on himself whilst away at college would build up his self-esteem.

In World History, he watched Gone as the brunette steadily made his way through a study packet for an upcoming test. All around them were classmates out of control; Mr. Portman had passed out at his desk again. The popular kids were flirting amongst each other and commenting on their looks; the nerds were scheming in their back corner, a couple of them throwing wadded paper at the studying brunette, and the others were busy playing video games on their notebooks.

Tweedy shifted uncomfortably in his desk. It was during this year that he started watching Gone. All because he'd finally noticed that the nerds picked on him a lot. He'd noticed the slurs thrown at him, the way they'd pair him with a good majority of the boys in school. Especially that raging ADHD Jake James.

Tweedy wondered if those stories were true—that some guys from New Park City tried to kill the pair. Maybe it would explain the extra close attention Jake paid to Gone.

After hearing the things that were being said of the smaller teen, Tweedy started to pay attention. Looking for clues. All he saw was a shy, very tidy student that looked as if he paid attention to himself. There really wasn't anything about him that screamed gay, but perhaps it was just his attitude, the way he held himself. Tweedy had found himself looking at the guy day after day to see any signs of homosexuality and caught himself just looking.

Maybe he was and didn't know it, yet. Or maybe he did and was just deep in denial, trying to will it away by hanging out with some of the most rowdiest kids in school. Tweedy couldn't decide.

Tweedy looked at him again. With a frown, he straightened in his chair and struggled to come up with something to say to the underclassman.

In the end, he came up with nothing.

0o0o0o0

Hiding the relationship was one of the hardest things he ever had to do. It was a matter of not knowing how people would react once told. But despite it all, it took everything he had to hold back on revealing every sign of affection he had for the younger teen.

Jake was the first to admit he was a grabby, physical sort of person. Even more so if he were close friends with someone, or if he just felt like roughing up an attractive guy just to have his attention for a few minutes. It took all he had to keep from grabbing Gone in obvious ways whenever he saw him. Every minute with the teen was filled with teenage impulse and action—he wanted to grab, hold, molest without reservation.

After the eventual confession of mutual like months ago, exploring a relationship with each other had been filled with possibilities and new discoveries. Seeing Gone in an entirely different light than he ever had made the younger teen new to him. The touch of his skin, the feel of his hair, the taste of his lips—it all made his days worthwhile, even with the crap that his formerly safe community dealt him.

He definitely couldn't help the fact that his very existence brought in unsavory characters from all over the world—and a few galaxies. He couldn't exactly place an announcement into the newspaper to declare his lack of powers, or physical prowess; all of which these characters were interested in.

He was just a regular, hormonal Normal with a rehabbed father, living a boring Normal life. He wasn't a threat…well, to anybody but himself, but that should have been painfully obvious.

Above it all, even if he still retained all the attention and caring from those he grew up with, this negative attention drew him even closer to Gone. This hormonal bliss of new discoveries, where every private moment they managed to steal with each other had him looking forward to the next.

He hummed happily as he doodled a few random squiggles on the back of his hand. There was a lecture being given by his Electronics Aid instructor, but he'd given up on paying attention a long time ago. He figured he wouldn't need the information; he'd always have someone around to do it for him. He smacked Bart, sitting beside him at their shared table, with the back of his hand to get his attention.

Bart caught his wrist and twisted his arm back. To alleviate the pressure, Jake fell out of his chair. The students sitting in front of them glanced at him warily as Bart let him go and he clumsily climbed back into his seat.

“Dude, hypothetically…”

“NO.”

With a sigh, Jake continued doodling on his hand. He tried to recreate the exact shape of Gone's balls. Just thinking about their heavy petting made him shift uncomfortably, pulling at his pants. A recent night of making out had led to groping, hormones raging out of control for both of them until clothes had been shed and bodies explored. He shivered and pulled at his pants again, remembering the way Gone's face had reddened as he'd come.

“Ha, ha that was fun!” he exclaimed out loud, then slapped his hands over his mouth with an embarrassed expression.

Bart frowned at him. “Dude. We had a talk about this.”

“Look, hypothetically—”

“I told you `no'.”

“You don't even know what I was going to say!” Jake whined, glancing around to see if anybody were looking their way. But with two to a table, and theirs sitting in the very back, he found it perfectly okay to do a little shifting within his pants, until he could make his erection go away. His hormones felt completely out of control lately, since he and Gone started messing around. His thoughts and feelings were always on their next private play time, and he was constantly battling a boner at the most inconvenient times.

“I don't care. I know it'll be dumb. And I'll feel angry.”

“You're always angry. Didn't my awesome taking do anything to you today?”

“You farted on me!” Bart snarled. “You fuckin' farted on me!”

Jake nodded gravely. “I'm just sharing my awesome with you. It's a privilege.”

“Dude, you are—! The most—!” Bart gripped the table, struggling to hold himself back. Jake reached out to give him a neck massage, but the other teen pulled away with a violent start. “Fuck, you were touching yourself with those hands!”

Jake laughed out loud, the teacher pausing in his speech to glare back at them. Straightening in his chair, Jake focused on his notebook until the older man looked away, continuing his lecture. He then looked back at Bart.

“Being worldly an' all,” he began, in a softer voice, “you got with, like, chicks all the time, huh?”

Bart snorted. He leaned as far back in his chair as he was able, stretching his legs out.

Jake's eyes widened, and he leaned in close. Bart used his elbow to give himself some space. “You're gay?!”

“NO!” Bart shouted. The instructor lowered his notebook and gave them a stare. Bart found himself looking down at the table as he was given the same look Jake had received earlier. When the man looked away, he looked at Jake with a fiercely irritated expression. “No! I'm not! I'm just—look. To put it straight, I'm not interested. Chicks, man. Nothing. I get nothing when I look at them. Guys—same way. The way I see things, it ain't normal.”

“…Animals?”

The expression on Bart's face could have curdled steel. Jake couldn't even think of a come-back, but he giggled goofily, waving a hand between them, as if to dispel the power of that glare.

Then he sat back in his chair, frowning. “You're such a liar. You're hard-up for somebody.”

“Buhlieve it, son,” Bart muttered, crossing his arms tightly over his chest. The tightly fitting garment was just as white as his jacket, and Jake was completely bewildered as to how the teen could wear the color without getting anything on it. He was then distracted by the way Bart's muscles bulged underneath the fabric. He had to reach out and touch them, earning another elbow jab.

“Will you stop touching me?”

“I can't. How can that be believeable?” Jake scoffed. “Shit. I've been checking out girls since I was, like—”

“Hah.”

“…I have.” Grumbling, Jake crossed his arms tight, sulking in his chair. “Now I forget what I was going to ask. It was real important, too. You're lying. Wait—do you get jealous easily? Maybe you just don't want to tell me who you're all into because she might like me better.”

“Hah!”

Sighing, Jake folded his hands behind the back of his head. “Whatever. You like somebody. There's no way that you can't. The world is full of hormones and sex and violence and sex and oh my god I remembered what I was going to say!”

Bart sighed heavily. He suddenly understood why Mr. James seemed so exhausted by the end of the day.

“Speaking of sex, I was wondering…y'know…how to…y'know…if you're with a…a chick? But…it's like…”

Bart shivered. “Why are you asking me this? I just fuckin' told you I ain't into it. Ask yer dad for The Talk. Ew. Oh my god.”

“No. No, hear me out. Now. Say…you. Say you're with this chick? And you like the HELL out of her. I mean, just like…just like totally like? And, say…say you've done things with her that's just…completely awesome, and totally wild because it's always in the next room. And you're just, like…wanting to go further but you don't know how—”

“Oh my gawd!” Bart suddenly wailed, making the connection. His hands shot up to his face as he bent over the table, startling everybody in the room. Jake jumped, fearful that something tremendously dangerous was coming down on his head.

He then sighed again as he and Bart were separated, the other teen clinging to random objects for support as he was forced to sit at another table. Jake frowned as their classmates giggled and whispered amongst each other, a group of girls giddy that Bart was nearby. He half-listened to a scolding that was harped down onto both of them, drumming his notebook pen onto the device, wondering how he was going to wrangle some answers from Bart about sex.

He knew the other teen was holding back on him. There was just no possible way Bart could be disinterested in sex. That was just…sociopathic. Barton McKinley came from New Park City—there was just no way he was a prude. A virgin. He was just holding out on Jake, refusing to give him answers and tips because Bart was feeling jealous over Jake's ability to score some on the d-low.

With a boy.

He giggled to himself, thinking about the way Gone would stroke his inner thighs with his toes. Underneath the table at Go's, while Go regaled tales of his manliness within the fighting ring and in the bedroom. Gone didn't look it, but the teen was a freak. Jake was sure of it. But he wasn't complaining as he shifted his pants around once more, cursing lightly over his uncontrollable hormones.