Warning: this IS an M rated fic. Sexual content ahead.
Jak grinned and ground down on me, making me groan and grasp his hips. "You fucking tease." I growled, straining to reach his lips as he lifted them just out of reach of my panting face.
"You asked for it." He murmured back, leaning forward to kiss me as his hands came up to hold my head. I kissed him back fiercely as one hand reached the bottom of his shirt and pulled it up, my fingers tracing his defined stomach as he moaned in appreciation. I smirked into the kiss and then slipped my fingers quickly into his trousers, enjoying the way he started then started writhing in my arms, completely at my whim as my hand moved up and down.
"Oh god...please, Ollie." He begged me, making me grow harder at his panting face and half lidded eyes. I moved my hand faster, taking great pleasure in watching his facial expressions as he lost control. First loss of speech to panted whimpers, then loss of sight as his eyes clenched shit, then finally the frantic bucking of his hips stilling as he let out a pleasure filled cry, his face contorted into that twisted expression I loved so much.
"Fuck, I love you." His voice was spent, exhausted. I laughed and kissed his cheek, feeling the sweaty skin beneath my lips.
"I love you t–"
I can't stop; don't care if I lose! Baby you are the weapon I choose; these wounds are self-in-flicted!
I woke up; disorientated as hell. I glared at my radio alarm, blaring out a Katy Perry song.
Ugh. Someone's got to shut her up. Like me! I slapped the snooze button, her voice cutting off in a satisfactory way. Now for someone to shut her up permanently...
Blood rushes as I suddenly remember my dream. I flop back onto my pillows, trying not to remember his face; how it looked when he arched up, a cry echoing from his lips...
I throw back the covers and head for the bathroom, grabbing a towel along the way.
"Fuck me. I need a cold shower."
Lunchtimes are agony.
He just doesn't understand how he looks. I don't know how everyone else doesn't see just how fucking delectable he is. Hot in that understated way. Get him tighter clothes and a snazzier haircut; he'd have ladies swarming over him.
Actually, I don't like the sound of that. You're staying the exact same! Don't you dare make yourself known to the public!
Aaand now I'm talking to myself again. I do that a lot. I look up from where I'm doodling on my latest sketch to Jak. He's eating the pizza the dinner ladies dished out on Wednesdays, making faces at every mouthful.
"If you hate it so much, why don't you just bring in a home lunch?" The words were out before I could stop them.
He jumped, completely thrown from his own little world. He shrugged at me, a smirk playing around his mouth. "Can't be bothered."
I rolled my eyes at him, allowing a small smile to be seen. Since his nose incident, I'd like to think we've become friends. It was only then I realized I didn't just want to fuck him. You have to understand – I was a complete man whore at my last school. Hence why my mum moved me. And to set eyes on the one guy who didn't make a big deal over my arrival, and was sexy as fuck but just didn't know it, really pressed my buttons in a good way. But then I got to know him, and...Jesus, he's just so fucking perfect it makes me elated and pissed off at the same time. Elated 'cos he talks to me and thinks I'm a friend. Pissed off because I can't just use him without feeling guilty. And damn the fact I've actually developed feelings.
When Jak took off his shirt – took off his shirt! – to help his nosebleed I actually had to restrain myself from raping him. Fuck he's got the sexiest body ever – wiry but clearly defined muscles, showing how he clearly does work out somehow. It's no wonder all I sketch nowadays is him...him eating lunch, him in art, him in imaginary scenarios, him and me tangled up together in a mess of limbs and sweat and...
Oops. Got a bit carried away there.
I look down at my current sketch. He was sprawled across the floor, his lips parted as one hand was up in the universal come hither sign. His eyes were half lidded. In short, he looked damn sexy.
"You wanna help me with my photo?" Jak asked me out of the blue. I jerked myself out of my daze, turning to his large brown eyes. Must....not...drown....
"Sure." I try to sound indifferent. "What are you planning on doing?"
Jak grinned. "Have you got makeup at your house?"
I frown. "Tons. Why?"
"Oh, you'll see."
Yes, Jak. You'll see. If you grin in that devilish way one more time, I'm going to leap across the lunch table and ravish your perfectly untouched body.
Yep. Definitely have a problem.
"Right. I need eyeliner in three different colours along with black and white mascara...then foundation; you got any powder stuff? Then a really light shade of lipstick."
Ollie laughed. "You're not serious?"
"Actually, I am. Now go get me them!" I shooed him off, already going through his wardrobe to choose the perfect outfit.
Jesus, I sound like a girl. But I had a burst of inspiration for my photograph. I wanted to recreate a seventies shot of a famous rock star; one a black and white one along with a close-up of his face with it signed in black at the bottom. Like an autograph.
I found a strange assortment of clothes in his chest of drawers but didn't comment. My fingers caught something while combing through his t-shirt draw, and I lifted it up to see....a choker?
"Why do you need all this?" Ollie exclaimed as he dumped all of the contents onto his bed.
I explained my idea to him, glad he seemed eager to help me. "It's the easiest way to get a grade. Plus I've always wanted to do it."
"Sounds good to me." Ollie stretched out his arms, a smirk on his pale face. "Well, what are you waiting for? Do me already."
Cue blush and stammering. Damn, I hate my inability to deal with any sexual innuendoes! "Put these on." I handed him a pile of clothes. "Then I'll do your makeup."
"Sure thing." Ollie took the clothes and dumped them on the chair, kicking off his shoes. I thought he'd move to the bathroom to change, but then he stripped off in front of me. I stared, my mouth dry as he threw off his t-shirt and shimmied out of his loose trousers, leaving him in nothing bit a dark pair of boxers.
He works out more than I do. Anyone can see that. Defined six pack. Muscular arms. Toned legs.
"I...ah...pee." My mouth garbled out words before I left the room, going to the bathroom and almost slamming the door shut.
What the fuck was that?
I tried to calm my breathing. But it was difficult, knowing that seeing Ollie strip off and see him practically naked...
I really need to get laid if seeing a mostly naked boy my age gets me a little...excited. I look down, glaring.
"Now's not the time. Shoo."
You know, it would be awesome if that command worked.
"Hey, Jak? I'm changed."
"Good!" I open the door, brushing past him to the bedroom. "Makeup time!"
I swear he just cringed.
Putting makeup on Ollie was fun. First of all I made his skin one even tone, brushing the powder painstakingly over his skin. I've seen my mother do this countless of times; surely it's as easy at it looks! Then I worked on his eyes, putting first a black baseline on his top eyelid then lining up the different colours below and above his eye. After doing that I piled on black mascara and then put white mascara on the tips, leaving him with a psychedelic, but still quite punk look.
I then tackled the black beanie on his head. "Beanie off."
"What?!" Ollie cried, hands coming up to protect his head. "No one said anything about that!"
"Take it off. Now." I ordered.
He huffed. "Fine." And then dragged it off his head.
I stared in utter and blatant shock.
"Shut up!" Ollie was mortified. "Dyeing accident. She was Chinese, and mistook pale blond for purple. Now go take your damn photos!"
I sniggered to myself as I artfully mussed it up, even letting out a small giggle. I feel gayer than I ever have in my life. Should I shoot myself for enjoying that?
"Right. Finished." I stepped back, pleased with my work. He looked in his mirror, one eyebrow rising as he took in his look. There was a pause. Then, "You forgot the lipstick."
"Aw, shit." I picked it up and grasped his shoulder, forcing him to sit back down on the chair. "Stay." I told him, grabbing his chin to pull his face close as I slowly put on the lipstick. His lips parted and warm air swept over my hands, making my hands shake slightly.
For fucks sake. Why the hell am I reacting like this?!
I lean back and admire my project. Damn, I'm good.
"Why do I need lipstick?"
"It'll even out your face in the photo. Now go stand by your wall and strike a pose." Ollie smirked at my demanding tone and did as I said, standing by the wall with his arms crossed. "No, idiot! Uncross your arms. Take a wide stance with your feet. Lean into your hip a bit...no, too much, go back. There. Now hook your thumbs into your front pockets...yeah. Then tilt your head..." Without thinking I raised my camera and clicked. I looked back at it, frowning. "Something's missing."
"What can possibly be missing? I'm dressed up, in makeup, posing like a fucking model...what's missing?!"
I eyed Ollie, my eyes flicking between the photo and his current stance. The answer showed when he rolled his eyes, the expressionless mask coming to life.
Apparently, I sounded too excited, for Ollie laughed at my eagerness. "Whoa. Calm down there, tiger."
I ignored his comment. "Can you...maybe look a little more...posey?"
An eyebrow raised. "Posey?"
"Er...." Words came to mind, but I couldn't use them. Tempting. Enticing. Inviting.
"Think of it as a picture for your girlfriend."
Ollie's other eyebrow raised. "You mean boyfriend." He said pleasantly.
I stared at him for a full minute before coming back to earth. So he's gay. That isn't a big deal. At all.
"R-Right." I nod. "Whoever. Think of them and make that expression. Someone you want to be...er...."
"Sexy for?" Ollie smirked.
I nodded. "Yeah. That."
Ollie took a deep breath and seemed to think for a minute before he shifted his feet and got comfortable. Then he opened his eyes slowly. They smouldered as they did, an inviting smile on his lips as his eyes fixed on mine, holding them there as his eyes widened and grew to a pair of fucking bedroom eyes. The air tensed then pressed in on me as I tried to tear my eyes away, but failed. His eyes held me captive, promising, asking; telling me there was so much more to be done than staring.
There was one word to describe Ollie at this moment.
Fucking downright, and undeniable sexy.
I reached up and took several pictures, my breathing erratic and I tried to avoid his hot gaze. But it was everywhere. I could feel him look me up and down, lingering in places that made me flush and tug at my t-shirt. Jeeze, it's getting hot in here.
Why? Why am I acting this way?
I never though myself to have any defining sexual orientation. But seeing him there, and practically fucking me with his eyes, made me seriously consider why I was so affected by it.
"Right." I announced, trying not to sound breathless in any way. "I need a close up. Sit on the chair."
Ollie sauntered over to the chair and folded his body languidly. I swallowed and walked forward a few steps, adjusting my camera and taking a few practice shots. I couldn't get the focus right so had to stand right in front of him, my face close to his as I adjusted the settings and took practice shots. His face fell back into that expressionless mask, and I felt a small sliver of disappointment run through me.
"You need to have that face on again." I hastened to tell him. He winked and assumed that sultry expression, eyes twice as inviting. I gulped and took the time to take the photos, trying to get the right angle. When I'd finished I looked through them, critically judging each one.
"Hmm...Maybe we should do that one again..." I muttered to myself.
Hands grasped my hips and pulled. I squeaked and fell forward, landing awkwardly on Ollie's lap as my chin banged into his forehead.
"Fuck." Ollie muttered. "I meant to use you."
I stared down, horrified. He realized what his words sounded like and desperately tried to take them back.
"I mean to get off-up!" His slip was noticeable. His cheeks flushed a violent red, matching my own red skin. I scrambled to get off Ollie's lap, causing him to groan when my hand slipped down his chest and onto his lap as I tried to gain leverage to stand.
"Uh...I'll show you the pictures tomorrow!" With that I turned and ran out, taking my camera with me as I left.
I really, really need to get laid.
Fuck my life.
Jak had stared at me like I'd grown an extra head during the shots. And when I tilted my head and did it a second time, I actually saw his eyes widen and his breath shudder. If those aren't signs he's interested, what are?!
I had meant to use his hips to help haul myself up, but he hadn't been expecting it, and fell into my lap.
He was straddling me. So you'll understand my brain took over my common sense and mixed up my words.
"I meant to use you....I mean to get off-up!"
Like that wasn't blatantly obvious. And when his nails scraped my chest and he pressed down on me...fuck. I couldn't help the moan that escaped my lips, my hips shifting slightly to seek more of that momentary pressure. Then he was gone, babbling excuses and running out of the room.
Like I said at the start.
Fuck my life.
I'd managed to avoid Ollie for yesterday and most of today. I mean, the photo shoot in itself was awkward...plus I needed a long, hard think about my own damn feelings.
Why him? Why not some other hot guy in the school? Urgh. Hormones? You suck. Why not show yourselves for years, then suddenly appear when he's around?
Back to my original point. Hormones suck.
It was Friday, meaning project hand in day. I'd developed and bought the pictures to school, and hoped Ollie was bringing in the drawings of me.
I walked into someone in the hall and went flying, books falling out of both our arms. I recognized the black beanie in an instant, but they didn't recognize me.
"Out of my way, fuckhead." Ollie snarled before walking on. He didn't realize it was me. I sighed and picked up all my books, realizing Ollie had dropped his sketchbook.
"He-" My voice died in my throat. The sketchbook had fallen open to a particular page....with me at the subject. I was sitting at the lunch table, concentrating on my food. That was the very first day he came to school. What...? I took the book and stood, flicking through the pages slowly. Then I came to one that made my eyes widen and my mouth fall open.
I was lying on a bed, elbows holding me up as I tilted my head back, shirt open at the front as my school tie lay abandoned on the bed. My trousers were unzipped and lying low on my hips. But most of all, I had the most sensual expression in the world, begging the artist to come closer. I gulped.
Why would Ollie draw that?
The sketchbook was ripped out of my hands and closed with a snap. I barely had time to gasp before I was dragged around and corner and down a corridor, stumbling backwards. I then was brought around another corner and pressed against a wall. By the time my head stopped spinning I realized I was in one of the lesser traversed corridor by the janitor's closet, and it was Ollie glaring fiercely at me.
Not the right thing to say. He snarled angrily at me, his eyes narrowed into slits. "Why'd you look through my sketchbook?"
"It...it fell open!"
"You had no right!"
"It wasn't my fault!"
"How could you even bother to look through it?"
"Hey!" I ripped my arm free and waggled a finger in his face. "Don't you dare try to turn this on me, huh! Why the hell was I in those drawings, looking like some...some personal Ollie sex toy! I've never looked like that! Ever! That's what you looked like at the damn photo shoot! Seriously, man, I've never seen anyone look so damn-"
"So damn what?" Ollie's voice took on a different tone. His eyes darkened as he breathed those words, his head lowering over mine. His arms came up to rest on either side of my head, making me feel decidedly trapped.
"Uh..." Brain. Gone. Bye bye, brain!
"I know what I looked like at the photo shoot. I know I looked fucking sexy. Is that what you're saying? That I looked good?"
I couldn't form words. His head was so close to mine. I've never been in this position with anyone. Ever. And it's making me loose my train of thought. And hey! The butterflies have arrived!
Ollie laughed, nice and low in my ear. "Look, Jak. You think I looked good? You think I looked sexy? You saw my drawings. You saw how damn irresistible you looked there. Let me tell you something – if you think I look good, that pales in comparison to how utterly fuckable you look every single fucking second of the day."
I couldn't help it. My breathing stuttered as my heart stopped then restarted twice as fast. I can't believe I'm hearing this. From him of all people. And...fuck, what is he doing?!
He was leaning close, taking my chin in one rough hand. I lean back, unsure of what he's doing. Then it hits me too late.
But he does anyway.
His lips touch mine, pressing into them firmly. I freeze, muscles locking up as my lips press together in a straight line. My whole body has stilled; I've even stopped breathing. Then the pressure has lifted and Ollie's opened his eyes to see me staring in terror, lips still pressed together as I try and understand what's happening.
Why....? Why did he do that?
"You look terrified." He chuckled. I continue to stare. "Aw, come on. You've been kissed before; it's the same with a guy as it is with a girl!" He joked. There was some tension underneath his tone though. Uncertainly? Fear?
I open my mouth, trying to tell him. "That..." I wouldn't know the difference. "I haven't..." No one's ever liked me enough to. And he just tried to make out with me. God. My face was turning red as I become more and more mortified.
He tried to kiss me, and all I did was stiffen and clench my lips shut!
Jeeze, I'm pathetic.
Some understanding passed over Ollie's face, making him draw back in surprise. "Wait..." He started slowly. I watch, still bright red. "You mean you haven't...? Never?"
Is it possible to die from embarrassment?
I shake my head curtly, avoiding his piercing eyes as I stare at a spot to my right. Soft fingers touch my face, drawing my attention back to him. I refuse to look at him. Fuck, this is horrible.
Then both of Ollie's palms envelop my face, forcing me to look in his eyes. His face is close again, his eyes holding the most tender look I've ever seen him give anyone. He opens his mouth and has a few false starts before he speaks; looking so unsure I feel a spark of confidence.
May you what? Ride on a pink elephant? All humour dies away when I realize he's staring at my lips, his eyes glancing back up to look into mine.
Should I? I don't know, do I? It should be automatic, not thinking over and over ag-
My answer is a jerky nod of the head as I cut off my own trail of thought, shoving it away into a dark corner of my conscious. A smile of relief adorns his lips before his grip on my face tightens and he leans forward again, breath ghosting over my lips. I couldn't help it; I stiffened and my mouth pressed together as my eyes widened.
Ollie drew back again, snorting softly. "Breathe." He murmured. "Relax. You're not about to die. Let your lips relax. And close your eyes."
Close my eyes?! And let him just kiss me? I take a deep breath and after eying him suspiciously, close them.
It's strange, having my eyes closed. I can't see when he'll kiss me. But just as I wondered when he would I felt the smallest of pressures on my lips, ever so light. I take a surprised gasp, realizing that that pressure was a pair of lips. They were dry but very soft, pressing gently into mine without moving. I slowly relaxed, realizing it wasn't so bad.
Then Ollie's hands moved from my face to take my hands and put them to his waist, replacing his hands when his lips moved.
I stiffened, a small squeak resounding from between us. I felt him smile as he heard that, then as his thumb gently stroked my cheek his lips moved again. What the hell do I do?! I had a brief moment of panic that slowly ebbed away when Ollie released my lips to whisper, "Relax." And then started kissing me slowly again. Very slowly, I got used to the way his lips moved. It was still a work in progress, but soon the feel of his lips felt very warm, and very nice. I liked it. I had no idea if I was doing it right, but Ollie hadn't stopped me, so I must be.
Then all thought process stopped when his tongue prodded at my closed lips.
Being unprepared for that, I gasped at the sudden wetness, my mouth opening to let the air in. Ollie took this as an invitation, his tongue going past both of our lips into my mouth. He gently touched my tongue as his mouth moved again, making me suck in a sharp intake of breath.
Fuck what I said earlier. This is new and weird as fuck, but better than before.
And slowly, very slowly, I got the hang of it. His tongue explored my mouth as we slowly made out, one of his hands slipping to wrap around my back. My own hands were clenching his t-shirt in fists, so caught up I didn't realize them moving.
Then Ollie let out a small moan and pressed his whole body into me, pushing us both against the wall. His hand slipped to the back of my head and he tilted my whole head, using the angle to kiss me better. I felt so lightheaded and dizzy; fuck he was moving fast. Our tongues got faster as we got further and further into the kiss; me losing oxygen as I kept forgetting to use my nose to breath. For some reason when he tightened his grip on my hair and stroked my tongue, a panted whimper escaped me and was lost between our mouths. Just as I did so Ollie drew back, his eyes dark with unmistakable lust as he looked down on me. I was panting and half dazed by his kiss, still buzzing and feeling incredibly light headed.
Ollie suddenly smirked and leaned forward, but not for my lips. His lips went to my neck, where he slowly kissed a trail of kisses up and along my jaw, stopping to nibble slightly at the hollow of my neck. I think we both jumped when I let out a breathy groan, disturbing the silence.
Ollie laughed into my skin before stepping back to look down at me. The smile fell slowly from his lips as his eyes gazed in mine, the mood suddenly serious as he opened his mouth to speak.
"So....I take it you didn't mind that?"
I could still taste him on my lips. I licked them quickly, a small shiver running through me as I saw his eyes follow the movement. I swallowed next, forcing words out of my mouth.
"Um....I wasn't completely opposed to it."
That earned a laugh. "I sensed that."
We both stood there in silence for a few minutes; I waited for him to speak while he visibly gathered enough courage to. There were a few false starts – he'd open his mouth and go to speak, but no words would come forth, so he'd close it again. Eventually he snorted and shook his head, muttering "Pussy." under his breath.
"Jak." The word came out sharp and high pitched. Why is he scared? "I like....sitting with you at lunch."
I raise an eyebrow. "That's clearly not what you wanted to say."
Ollie's unreadable mask broke. He laughed loudly, the infectious sound making me smile as he smile broadly at me. "You're Jak. You won't care, will you?"
His eyes glinted as he swept my hand up to his mouth, bowing extravagantly. "Jak. My fellow loner. My inspiration. Boy with the cutest ass imaginable. Be mine?" To top off his overdramatic act, he kissed my hand, winking afterwards. "So? Whadya say?"
I could have caught flies with how wide my mouth had fell open at the moment. Ollie closed it for me, his finger lingering as his eyes bored into mine.
"So...?" He trailed off, looking uncertain.
I liked him. I genuinely, honestly like him. But there was the rest of the school; the teachers...my mum....who by the way told me before she went to work this morning she 'approved' of Ollie. What?!
In hindsight, maybe she had a mother's inkling something like this would happen...? Wait, why am I thinking of my mother when I should be answering him?
I pursed my lips and looked up at him again, standing there with his purple hair glowing in the dim light, with his blue eyes fixated on mine. He looked a tad apprehensive, unsure of what I was going to say.
Hopefully, I didn't surprise him much when I removed his hand from my face and held it tightly in my own, shrugging in an attempt to be suave as I answered him back. "Sure. But it's still my table. Not ours."
I'd barely finished my sentence when Ollie let out a woop and swept me up in an ecstatic hug, turning my head so our lips met in a jubilant kiss.
Yes, he looked scary with his chains and piercing eyes and loud, roaring music. But he was mine. And he could draw me all he liked.
Man, I LOVE writing cutsey three-shots!