I'm rewriting this story. Hope it'll be better now.

His cold gaze followed us from where he sat on the counter as we walked into the school toilet. Sarah blurted out a, "whatcha looking at, freak?!" and pulled me into one of the stalls. Same as always; me taking a girl there during my chemistry lesson, which seemingly both him and me always skipped, and his green eyes following me emotionlessly.

Most people with green eyes usually have a very warm gaze, but, oddly enough, his was cold, colder than my blue ones and they stared right through me.

He made me want to beat his guts out.

But sometimes when he wasn't there I felt empty. There was no reason to make the girl moan louder, no reason to do it at all. Even if not a single muscle in his face changed I wanted to see him, feel content, as if I was torturing him, when in fact I had no idea why he sat there or watched me; I just assumed he was some kind of perverted freak.

I saw him quite often in the corridors and in classes. We usually exchanged a couple of hard stares and continued doing what we were doing. He had a light-brown haired cutey for a girlfriend and they liked to snuggle and kiss and giggle in the corridors like newlyweds. He was nothing like the guy who sat and stared at me so sternly. Rather he was the cheerful type who made sarcastic jokes; quite self-confident. But I always felt that it wasn't real, what they had. Just a show, as if to keep others away, him half-heartedly looking at her, pretending to love. Though she actually did have feelings for him, there was nothing from his side but pathetic attempts to keep her happy. It disgusted me to no end, though I didn't really care about them. Whatever they were, they were better people than me.

This Friday he sat there on the counter between the sinks as always, leaning against the mirrors behind him and just staring. I hadn't asked any girl for it today since I was curious as to how he would react to it because every time he'd seen me I'd acted like a bad boy, knocking up some girl. I leaned against the ceramic wall beside the door and lit a cigarette. I stared back at him for a moment and then slowly walked up towards him. He didn't move the slightest bit. The tension in the air fired me up, made me want to do something to him, scar him somehow, hurt him. I took a last drag on my cigarette (it was against the rule to smoke in the toilets) and smashed it against the sink, throwing it into the trashbin.

After yet another exchange of hard stares, I unexpectedly took his face in my hands and kissed him, blowing the smoke into his mouth between his soft, moist and tightly sealed lips. Supporting his head, I pulled his legs towards myself to make him lay down on the counter, staring up at me stupefied, his hands desperately clutching at my arms. He didn't move when I unbuttoned his pants. I gave him a vicious grin and started licking and sucking him. His left hand clutched hard at the one that I was holding him down by, stroking his tiny chest and stomach. But he didn't struggle, just let out quiet moans, trying in vain to breathe steadily. His legs and stomach spasmed when he was about to cum. I uncounsciously grabbed a piece of paper-tissue from the gadget beside his head and let him cum in it. Looking at him, I could see tears in his eyes as he lay there motionless and stared out beside himself, seemingly unaware of me. I cleaned and buttoned him and, after staring at his small figure still lying there for another few seconds, I walked slowly back to my position beside the door to lit another cigarette.

Slowly, he sat up, looking down on the white yet dirty mosaic floor. He mumbled something, trying to tell me to come back. I told him that he could come to me. He unhurrierdly got down from the counter and did as I'd told him to. I smiled in triumph, put my left arm around his waist, my other arm that held the cigarette around his head. I gave him a deep kiss, feeling his knees failing to keep him up. He shivered and let out a sigh when I let go of his lips.

"Let's not tell anybody about this," I told him.

"Don't ever touch me again." He walked past me and out the door. I laughed, perhaps in an attempt to keep my dignity.