Sin For Me (bxb)

Fantasy

Damian

I could not stay awake.

Its not my fault this guy has the voice of a thousand math teachers. All mixed together into one annoying drone.

Homosexuality this, impure thoughts that. I had heard this all before but none of it's stopped me from fucking a boy. Guess they dont like that kind of thing around here.

I tried to focus on something, the paintings on the walls, the baby who was as interested as I was in this sermon, even focusing on Thomas (who's attention was squarely on the priest) wasnt distracting me from how tired I was.

I left America yesterday morning, and being on that plane for so long over an entire fucking ocean wasn't the best place to sleep to be honest.

It also did not help the dude was practically singing me a damn lullaby. It lulled me to sleep and before I knew it, I was asleep on the pew. The British asshole tried to kick me awake, which would work for a whole ten seconds before I fell back asleep.

~<>~

I woke up to ice cold water being poured on top of me.

I flailed up and felt the cold water fall down the rest of me, making me let out a string of curses. I looked to see Jack holding a metal bucket and laughing his ass off. Thomas held a stern look on his face, absolutely no humor in this guy.

"Glad to see you got a good nap." He said sarcastically. Jack and his 13 year old sidekick nodded in mocking.

"Your in trouble now!" The 13 year old spat. I fake jumped at him and he fell backwards.

"What are you gonna do?" I smirked and raised a brow, "Make me scrub the pews or something? Ooh I'm scared."

For a second, a ghost of a smile played on his lips. "No. We are going to dinner. Go get dressed in your day clothes." Was all he said before walking briskly to the common rooms.

This place was like a maze, I tried to find my way to our room, but got lost several times. I finally reached it, and undressed in the plain room.

My old room was a lot brighter. Posters and a TV, a cool couch. This place only had the absolute essentials. 2 beds stacked on top of each other, a window with long beige curtains, and the only decoration being a cross on the wall.

It was better than the streets, that's all that mattered. It was a warm bed and a meal and that's all that mattered.

I ran a hand through my hair, missing the length, but I expected they would cut it. Plus the backwards ombre was not the cutest look I've ever worn. Kind of like a skunk during a mid-life crisis.

I took the soaked dress-wizard robe and laid it out on Tom's bed. Asshole wants to pour water on me... better not say a word about having cold sheets.

I put on my dressy shirt, if you could call it that. It was hand made from the same material the curtains, sheets, and wash rags were made of. The hem was frayed and the collar stretched, but it fit well enough. Plus the material was soft enough.

I don't really know what to think of this place yet. Its my 9th home, but this one definitely isn't your average foster home. Usually its some couple who cant have kids or some old woman trying to get her last minute ticket to heaven for good deeds.

Worst case its just some people getting money from the government to take care of you, and that's the only reason that you get a bed and a seat at the dinner table. But either way they get tired of you. Especially as a teen, people no longer find you cute when you start growing a beard.