Pink

Completed: March 28, 2006 9:25:50 p.m.

A/N: And after months and months of procrastination, I finally was able to produce… this. It's so lame, clichéd and absolutely stupid. But I like it. Somehow.

I wrote this part by part, each separated by a lengthy amount of time. So if they don't really make sense, tell me. (Ughhh…) I hate editing.

The moment I turned around the corner of the men's changing room, I was immediately bombarded by the sight of hundreds of flying volleyballs of all colors and sizes(?). Although I wonder why they would want to manufacture Christmas colored one?

Anyway…

Fuck.

First day of gym, or P.E. (Physical Education), and it's volleyball.

Picture:

Widdle me being bashed on the head by big round blue, yellow and white volleyball.

An enormous red and green killer ball of doom whizzing through the air towards my cute little bubble butt.

Oops. Too much information.

Wanna talk about my killer nipples?

The sharp shrill of a whistle screeched through my ears, followed by, "Everyone! Come here!"

Crap…

Instinctively, I hid behind one of the columns to try and catch my breath, which had been lost when I saw the incredibly delicious patch of tanned skin I saw fleetingly a while ago. And I still have no idea whose it was. But it was so… slick and sexy. And altogether, so lickable… Argh… no time to be gay right now!

Someone called out to the teacher, who was also the school's varsity basketball coach, Mr. Robert Burton. "Oi! Coach, where's Pinkie?"

Pinkie?

"Pinky?"

Nope, that wasn't me. That was Mr. Burton.

"Pinkie. I. E. You know, the smashingly cute little dude with the pink hair? He once painted his cute little fingernails pink too." If I closed my eyes, I could literally hear little hearts popping over the guy's head.

Cute little dude? Who the heck was saying all that stuff?

"Mr. Sandes?"

There was a single very male gasp. I envy you, whoever you are, for being able to gasp so… mannishly. "Oh oh oh! You mean Alex Sandes!? The Alex Sandes who won the Trans4mation Art Contest with that abstract art thing? That Alex Sandes!?"

Alex Sandes!? Shit…

"I don't know whether he won anything or not, but yes. I think your 'cute little dude with the pink hair'," Oh my god, eye-rolling sarcasm. "…is Mr. Sandes." I see rolling eyes.

"Well, since he's not here, can I go find him?"

"Whatever you want." Burton's barks gradually fainted away as he followed the other students over to the other side of the gym towards the volleyball nets.

Fuck. Should I get out there now? But what would I tell Burton? I was taking a shit? Maybe… But then again, I can't afford another C in this thing. God forbid me to actually get a GPA above 3 for this stupid subject that's not technically even a subject…

"Yoohoo? Hey, dude. Sands? You're laaaayyyyte… Hey?" The Annoying-Art-Fanatic Dude's voice echoed from within the locker room. "Is anybody here?" Raps against metal lockers burned my eardrums. "Hell-lohhhhh?"

Oh my god. Someone make him shut up please.

"Darling! Where are you? You can come out now!!!" Darling!?

The… the… freak.

I really don't wanna do this, but anything to make him shut up. He sounds even worse than my cousin's singing, or should I call it yowling like a lifesaver stuck in a cat's throat? I meant the cat, not the candy.

Step by step, tiptoe by tiptoe, I slowly slid around the pillar, intending to make a dash towards the class on the other side of the gym without making the Annoying-Art-Fanatic Dude With-the-Yowling-Voice see me.

And of course, like the damsel in distress like me, nothing ever comes out right. Obviously. For I am no damsel.

"Hey! You! Pink-haired dude!" AAFDWYV (Oh my god, I really shouldn't have tried to write this story by myself.) called out.

I froze, back turned towards him, while mentally feeling a body coming closer towards my back at a terrifyingly fast pace. NO, I do not want to see him.

A hand landed on my shoulder rather heavily, a squeak escaping me. "I finally found you. C'mon, Coach is looking for me." Oh good Lord. I feel the Ray of Gigantic Grin against the back of my neck. And it's contagious. Merde! I feel the GRIN contaminating me! Fuck. What should I do now? Stay frozen like the block of iced nerd I am? Or turn around to face the sweet warmth from those must-be perfect teeth?

He made that decision for me. Stepping around in front of me was probably the worst and best thing that he could have ever done for me.

Slick and… sexy?

I wanna lick that.

-:Just out of meanieness (and of course, laziness), I almost ended it here. But NOOO, I love you guys too much (what guys?), so I took pity and continued. Be happy.:-

BIG LINE BREAK

"FUCK!" I screamed when another big bouncy bright (volley) ball launched itself at my head. Reacting on instinct, I raised my hands up to protect my face and pushed it away with all my strength before I almost collapsed against the net with buckling knees.

There was a loud dull smack and the ball zoomed over the net, inches away from my head, and another loud 'fuck!' could be heard from the other side.

"HAH! I told you that Pinkie would rule at setting!" AAFDWYV, now named Luke Morraine, exclaimed loudly at his teammates.

Raising my head up to glare at him for using the awful awful nickname, I was hindered by a big bear hug from the same dude I was going to glare at.

"Great setting, man." I could hear the big grin that seemed to be permanently attached to his face, yet I could not see it, for my face was pressed up close to an insanely sweaty pair of pecs with… equally insanely sexy brown nipples.

Must not be tempted to bite.

Lick…LICK IT, DAMNIT!

"Stop hogging the cute kid, Morraine!" A guy I knew distantly as Tomm something whistled. "We wanna piece of him too!"

A series of hoots and yells rose up from the other dudes in the team.

"Are you kidding me!?" Luke arched his neck back slightly to leer at Tomm. "I'm his guardian angel from all you horny perverted bastards, you. He's under my protection, so…" There was a decidedly immature and loud raspberry from the seemingly mature and sexy (there it goes again!!) morsel of male flesh in front of me. "… no no no nookie for you!"

I giggled. I swear, if they weren't such obnoxious grown up kids, I'd think they're gay. Wriggling, I tried to get out of the circle of his sweaty arms, making him look down at me again. "Hey, are you okay?" He let go of me quickly.

Shaking my head, I giggled again, this time, under breath so the others wouldn't hear me. "Yeah. You just stink like Burton's old sweatsocks, that's all." I added a cough that sounded more like hocking up a furball, while swatting the air in front of me annoyingly.

The guys grinned. Someone giggled. Luke pretended to be offended, "What? Are you saying that you won't allow me any of you, pumpkin, just because I'm stinky?" He slapped two palms against his cheeks and girlishly screamed, "This won't do!" He turned around, but after sending me a huge wink that knocked me off my feet. " Coachhhhh… Can I take a shower? Sandes won't have sex with me cause I stink!"

Some girls giggled. (Again) I was, to be honest, nothing less than mortified. The guys cracked up. Burton sighed but nodded. I want to kill myself…

The puppy grin came back onto his face when he faced me again. "Let's go, pookie! Did you bring your sea kelp salt body scrub with you?" He linked arms with my shocked self, effectively dragging me over to the locker room 15 minutes before the end of class and day. The zany crackhead. What were we gonna do in there? Really have sex?

"I promise you the best sex ever, muffin. Cause I brought the condoms today too."

Uhh… I was kidding!

BIG BIG BIG BIG LINE BREAK

Random note from author(ess): Whatcha gonna do with all that junk, all that junk inside that/your trunk? I'm get get get you drunk, get you love drunk off my hump. OMG SOMEONE SAVE ME FROM THIS SONG!!!

Whatcha gonna do with all that ass, all that ass inside those jeans? I'm gonna make make make you scream, make you scream, make you scream!

NOOOOOOOOOOOOO…

Back to the story:

They had sex.

The end.

Completed (with editing): April 6, 2006

Don't kill me, please.