So that was sex.
Intense, desperate grasping for another body, loving the feeling that there was somebody so close to me. Knowing that I needed more, but not really understanding why. The sense of intoxication as my hormones took control and I knew there was nothing I could do now to back away. I didn't know if this could count as my first time, or if it was the second or third. In the past, when I'd gotten this deep into something, I'd also been too intoxicated to realise what had happened, and had drifted off for a few hours of fitful sleep before waking with no clear memories of what had actually happened to me.
This was the first time I could remember it, I decided. So this was the first time that counted. The time that I would always be able to look back on, and that I would surely be tempted to compare future encounters against.
As I got my breath back, I tried to clear my thoughts, and make sense of what I had just done. I was sure that my parents would say it was the stupidest mistake I'd ever made; even worse than agreeing to pay for a broken window, but I couldn't see it as anything but a wonderful thing. Sure, it was something they didn't want me to do, and something I would never have done before. But it felt good. It had felt wonderful at the time, and now I was encompassed in a warm glow that I hoped would never fade away.
Clint had held me, and I'd had no second thoughts. I hadn't needed them, and I still didn't. I just knew that I was doing exactly what I was meant to do. What I had been designed for. Sure, it might have been a little foolish, but I knew that I wouldn't regret it. Regardless of when the drugs wore off.
While we were slowly building up to the main event, Clint had allowed me a rum and coke. He mixed it, so I couldn't overdo it. Just a little something familiar, so that I would be less nervous as we made plans without ever saying the words. When I'd been sure that I needed to put my inhibitions on one side, I'd asked him again for that bottle of Skim, and he'd looked deep into my eyes before agreeing. The intensity in his gaze there, showing me how deeply he cared and how seriously he didn't want to do the wrong thing, had turned me on more than anything I could have thought possible. And before too long I'd known that we were doing this; that it was too late to change my mind now.
I looked at Clint again. It was quite late in the evening; and he seemed to be sleeping deeply. There was a big smile on his sleeping face, which helped to reassure me that he might have enjoyed the experience almost as much as I had. He was still wearing his shirt as well; bunched up around his shoulders and unbuttoned, but it just went to show how quickly things had happened once I surrendered control of my actions.
I glanced over at the little pink bottle lying on the floor. That was something I still felt bad about; I knew that I shouldn't need something like that. But I'd known it would be easier if I was consumed by lust, and any second thoughts couldn't get a word in. Still, I wanted it out of sight before Clint woke up. I swung my legs off the little hotel bed, and noted that they felt like jelly, too weak to support me. But they did the job I asked of them, and I stepped over to where I could pick up the bottle. And then I stopped, surprised. It was heavy in my hand; and I'd already held these things often enough to know how much weight the plastic had. Almost every time I could remember holding one, it had been empty before I realised. But this one was still full.
I'd asked for one, I remembered. But I couldn't recall drinking it. He'd looked into my eyes and then given it to me, asking if I really wanted all the things that the aphrodisiac could make me do. He'd reeled off a list of different things he could do to me, and that I would have no power to resist. And each one had excited me more than the last; even when it got into suggestions of bondage and abuse, somehow I'd been looking forward to it. And then... And then he'd held me, and started to unfasten my clothes for me, and I'd given up any attempt to think. We'd rushed into it, the only worry that I'd lose my nerve before we could get anywhere; or before he realised what a mistake he was making by getting involved with someone like me. There had been a real urgency in our actions, and now I was starting to realise that I hadn't even needed the drugs. My own lust was enough for me to get lost in; doing things that would outrage my parents the way nature had intended.
I stared at the little pink bottle again. It didn't have a power over me now, because I knew that most of its effects were just enhancing my natural hormones. It couldn't make me feel anything that I didn't already feel when there was a hot guy with his hands all over my body. And when I was mostly sober, I could remember clearly enough to be sure that whether or not this had actually been my first time, it was certainly the best so far.
I still didn't know what I was doing. Or what I was going to do with my life. I didn't know if what we'd just done was supposed to give me a reason to stay with my family; or if Clint had hoped it would. But I couldn't imagine trusting them again, and I knew that somehow I would have to find another option, where I could continue to be me. About the only thing that I could be sure of right now was that I didn't need the drugs anymore, and didn't want to be around something that would make me lose control. I heaved the little bottle in the direction of the trash, and gave a satisfied little grunt as it vanished from sight. It couldn't hurt me now.
"You okay?" Clint asked, and I realised that his eyes had been open for a couple of seconds now.
"Yeah," I nodded. "I don't want that stuff. I don't want to..." And then as I saw his mouth open, I was sure I knew what he was going to say, so I had to say something first: "No, don't apologise. I wanted you, and I don't need drugs for that. You did exactly what I needed. And I didn't know you had it in you, taking control like that. Thank you."
"It was a surprise to me too," he mumbled. "You're sure that was okay? Maybe I shouldn't push you so much when you're finding it hard to–"
"You did the right thing by me," I said. "And I hope it's not something you'll regret. Please, if you want me, you should know that... You were wonderful, and I think just what I needed. But I can't promise self-control. I can't tell you I'll be good now, and I know sooner or later I'll probably end up hurting you. That isn't what I want, but I don't really have a choice about it. So... I'll do my best, but I can't promise I won't do something terrible. I'm not always in control when I get emotional. But I'll try to do my best, and let you choose what... you know. I trust you to keep the booze and drugs out of my hands. Don't let me go too far, because you know what kind of state I'm in better than I do. I trust you with that choice, and I want you to know that until I can trust me to make those kind of decisions myself, you can make the tough choices for me. Whether that's giving me a drink, or... some of the amazing things you just did for me. You know what it takes to... to make me feel good, I mean. And if there's anything I can do to make you feel good... you know?"
"I think I understand," he said, and sat up to put his arms around me again. "So... small talk and sweet nothings? I don't know if I know how to do that kind of conversation, but if you'd rather not think about the big, important issues, then..."
"We can talk about the big stuff if you want. But there isn't much for me to say. I don't think I can face Dad again. Not now."
"You don't have to," he said. "We can sort something out. Well, maybe I won't be much help there. But you've got friends, you know? Everybody will try to help if they can, and we can find somewhere you're safe for now. You can stay here, or find somewhere else. But whatever happens, I want to be there for you. And... Well, that's not entirely altruistic, but you know? I want to see the real you. Even if you're trapped between yourself and the anti-you, even if you're not sure who you are anymore, I want to be with you. I want you to have something good to hold onto."
"Okay. So, you can... Ugh. I'm going to be in more trouble, you know?"
And I told him about my plan. How getting a second shot of the Punishment Pill might reset the effects for a couple of hours, while the two different sets of nanoproteins negotiated how to work together in my body. And how that would mean I ended up with a whole new set of embarrassing problems that I would have to learn to deal with. Clint just held my hand, squeezing tightly when I was getting stressed, so I knew that he was there for me. And I made sure to tell him about my existing problems as well. Bedwetting, the diapers, drinking, drugs, getting angry at the drop of a hat. And he kept on telling me that he still wanted me, even with all those problems. That he wanted to help me to cope with them, until I could find out how much of the personality change was a part of who I was now.
"It must be tough to deal with," he said slowly. "These things are designed to embarrass you. And dealing with two of them is bound to be a big challenge. But I'm not going to think any less of you because of that, and I'll do anything I can to help you through it." He hesitated for a moment, and I wondered what he was going to say. It must be hard for him too; could he really be interested in someone who had those problems? I fought against the urge to cover my ears, as if not hearing his words was some kind of solution to my fear.
"It shows how strong you are," he said.
"Huh?"
"You know what you want, and you try to get it. Even when it means putting yourself through terrible things in the short term, you do what you have to do. I don't think I'd ever have the courage to do that."
The words took my breath away, and I just started for a couple of seconds. Then, finally, I could respond.
"You've shown me courage. You kept on practising on your board, even when the worst happened. And you've stuck by me through the worst, even knowing some of the gross stuff that will probably come up. Is it... what do you see in me?"
"You're the kind of person I really admire. And not just because you saved me. But there's so much... I don't even know how to say. I don't know how I feel. But I know that I want to be with you, no matter what. Whether it's... more of what we've just done, or being there to support you in public, or whatever you need. Just being there is all I could ask for. And sure, I don't really understand why, but that's how I feel. I hope that's enough for you."
I couldn't find the right words, so I just pulled him closer and hugged him tight. And maybe I understood that his feelings were something like my own; if I could even be sure what I wanted with all the drugs trying to confuse me. I really hoped that Clint would still be there with me when this was over; whatever kind of person I ended up being on the other side.