Blue Eyes (bxb)

Thirty Three

You were probably expecting school to be awkward on Tuesday, and you're right, it was. Although Jacob and Brendon gave me nothing but the upmost support, I still felt like something was slightly off with us. Not in a bad way, it was just... different. I don't know, I guess coming out was more of a big deal to people than I first thought.

However, it wasn't to Steph, or Finn, and I'm pretty sure Sam knows but doesn't care. Georgie, too, for that matter. So why those two? I suppose having a homosexual companion was new to them, it may just take a minute for them to settle with the thought. That's okay, as long as they don't start acting all bitchy. Or else they'll have both Finn and Steph's slimey arses to deal with, and God bless them if that ever did happen.

I was sat in Geography, attentively staring at and scribbing down the notes on the whiteboard. We were studying the effects of flooding on the economy, and I hadn't realized how interesting it was until now.

Mrs. Tyne rambled on about the subject right up until the bell, and not one thing did I forget. It was lodged in my brain and I could've easily wrote an essay worth five pages mentally with all the information I'd taken in.

I gathered my belongings, shoving my book and pen in my backpack, just as I saw Mrs. Tyne approaching me from the corner of my eye.

"Good morning, Zakary. I just wanted to let you know how proud I am of you. You really applied yourself today, and I hope all your hard work isn't just a one-off thing. It would be a shame." It was the first time she's ever smiled at me. I noticed the etched out crinkles below her eyes and the wideness of her lips, of which only a genuine smile showed.

"Thanks, Miss."

"Not a problem. You're a bright lad, Zak, I would hate it if you failed this class just because you were too interested in entertaining the rest of the class."

I flashed her back a smile similar to her own, then headed out. I didn't have any more lessons that day, so I decided to do some studying in the library.

As I plopped down on one of those cheap plastic chairs amongst the aisles of books, I tugged out my maths textbook - that I had actually remembered for once - and began scribbling down equations and putting them into practise.

Yes, I was having an educational sort of day, but I couldn't help it. I felt inclined to learn and expand my knowledge. Having a pen in my hand just felt good, it was weird. At this rate, I'd be straight in Oxford without a bat of an eyelash.

I couldn't wait to show Mr. Smythe and shove it up his flabby arse. He'd say I'd just copied it out from Kayley, the class sweat's (nerd) book and I'd say no, I took two hours out of my day to actually improve my intellectual capability. Then he'd question my suddenly impressive use of vocabulary, and I'd call him a drittsekk, "bastard" in Norwegian. And he'd be confused. And I'd laugh, and then go meet Finn in the storage cupboard so he can suck my dick.

Yes, I had it planned. I'm strange, I know. And yes, I speak Norwegian. Well, partly. And by partly I meant I could cuss thanks to that time I pissed off this thirteen-year-old girl who came here on a holiday from Norway. Long story short, Norwegian preteens know how to throw a punch.

I glanced down at my watch. It read 12:32pm. Shit! I was supposed to meet Finn at half past. I was late, and I couldn't be late for my blue-eyed goddess.

I practically galloped out of the library, throwing everything in my Nike schoolbag. It was 12:36pm by the time I'd reached the courtyard, where he sat lonely on a picnic bench fiddling with the zip on his lemon and navy-coloured windbreaker. I leapt on the seat opposite him, a goofy grin plastered over my lips.

"Guess who, motherfucker?" I teased.

"Gosh, I don't know. Zakary David Peters, perhaps? Or am I mistaking the aftershave with my last hook-up?"

"Bitch, I am your last hook-up," I countered.

"Not technically, no. No penile penetration was involved so your still a gay virgin and the last guy I fucked forgot his name," he cackled, knowing fine well he was right. He was always right. It was annoying, in a lovely sort of way.

"I hate it when your right. Also, too much information."

"Ha, sorry, not sorry. Anyway, I was just thinking, remember when we first met? And you hated me so much you punched me. Good times."

"Yeah, sorry about that, by the way. I'm just an angsty teen who needs to take his hormonal mood swings out on someone, aka you."

"Hormonal mood swings, huh?" He chuckled, though his eyes shifted slightly. An aura of darkness seemed to settle around him. He looked suddenly all the more delicious; I was ready to take him then and there. Of course, however, the middle of the school courtyard was not only impractical but inappropriate.

"Yes," I uttered cautiously. Part of me craved what he was hinting towards, yet another part of me grew nervous. Finn got pretty intense when he was turned-on, so this was sure to be interesting.

"I'm sure I could settle those for you." I felt his foot trace up my leg, reaching my knee with agonizing anticipation.

"Really?" I purred. "How?"

"Oh, wouldn't you love to know." His chin rested between the palms of his hands. He was leaning closer into me now, and it took all my will not to snog his face off in front of all these people.

"Yes, I would. Tempt me, go on. Make me beg for it." I certainly caught him off guard with that, his cheeks deepening a shade of pink.

Instead of stammering out a sentence like I'd expected him too, he began stroking my bare knee cap through the rip in my skinny jeans, where his foot had been a mere minute ago. The softness of his fingertips felt like cotton blankets draped across a memory foam mattress. I always loved his sweet caress, maybe even craved it a bit. Especially late at night when I was lying in bed all on my own, dying for him to magically appear and start working his way all over my skin.

He bit his lip, and I could barely contain it. I was like a balloon ready to pop, a stressball that had been pushed a tad too much. I found myself gasping for breaths with sweat trickling down my back.

I would do anything to him right now. Kiss him, choke him, gag him, just to get rid of that stupid flirtatious smirk and glimmer in his eye. It was wickedly surreal how unbelievably stupid I was for thinking such thoughts. But it was true. I wanted it. I wanted him. I wanted his everything; his skin and those glorious lips. Fuck, I could climax just dreaming about it.

"Jesus Christ, I want you to have me. Right fucking now," I squirmed.

"You know we can't do that, baby." His voice sounded like melting chocolate, so velvety and delicious.

"Can I kiss you?"

"You can. But I don't think that's what you want. It's the testosterone filling your pants talking."

"Please, please, baby. I want you, so much."

"No, you'll have to wait to get it," he teased. I felt this warmth of his fingers trace my jawline, pulling my head upwards. "Fuck, your neck is so pretty looking. I want to claim it. I want to kiss it and bruise it and lick it."

I gulped, so loud he probably heard it over the bellowing seagulls. My jeans were so tight on my crotch, it was unbareable. Those blue eyes bore into my own, and, despite actually looking at me, I was at a loss for myself. He was so handsome and I was so horny. So goddamn horny because of him.

"Do it, please, I want it."

"Not now, my lovely. Are you busy tonight?"

"No, I'm never too busy for you."

"I'll see you at ten." Then he walked off, leaving me in the dust with a throbbing boner and watering mouth.

When I eventually calmed myself, I rose from the seat, only for some blondie to throw me back down again, her taking the seat beside me.

I glanced over at her, confused. And that's when I knew.

Skai.

She was back.

Song: 'Mirrors' by Justin Timberlake