oh god. don’t hate me for this, i beg of you. i was being paranoid over
the beginning of this chapter (you’ll see why) and i was worried that
everyone would get mad at me and stop reading (and by everyone, i mean
the five-or-so people that read this >_>) which i didn’t want … but i wrote it
anyways, because i know at least one person has been waiting for it …
keep in mind that i’m unbearably young. but perverted, so it balances into
mediocre writing … uh, good luck.

ps: this is around a week and a half later, btw …

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx commence the gay xxx

xxx Keith’s POV xxx

If I’m not mistaken, I hear a crack as the front door slams back against the wall. I also hear him mumble something about it being my fault, but I clearly see it as his because he didn’t have to swing it so viciously. Neither of us get to voice our complaints very loudly, because we’re welded together at the mouth, and have been since I kissed him on his doorstep. His shoulder nudges against me as his clumsy hands scramble to find the doorknob, unsuccessfully at first, but I don’t blame him for struggling when there’s a scrawny boy hanging off him. I strive to sling my leg around his hip, and he chuckles, muffled against my tongue. After getting he door closed, he grabs the back of my thighs and lifts me up until he can carry me.

That same maddening feeling creeps through my bones and sears at my lips, causing me to wrap my arms around his neck and tug at his hair. I pull sharply until he’s looking up, and I lower my face to his neck. I’m dimly aware that he’s stopped walking, but it’s not exactly first priority in my mind as I stick my tongue out and trace his throat with just the tip. He gasps and nearly trips on the first stair as I close my mouth around a soft spot on his neck and suck hard, but he keeps stumbling upwards, hands getting dangerously close to my ass.

I hear music from Sasha’s room (right next to Coy’s) and I wonder if she can hear his footsteps. The thought is quickly diminished, however, because when we near his bedroom door, I realize his hands really are on my ass, and he doesn’t seem to have much intent on moving them. That thought makes me feel sick and excited and so screwed up I can’t even think rationally, but I don’t really have to, because I’m on his bed.

At first I think that I can’t be right, but then his lips cover mine and a jolt runs through me, then I know it’s real. My head is lopsidedly lying on his pillow, and I feel his hair curl against my shoulders as he keeps kissing me, one of his thighs moves between mine. I blink a few times, watching his closed eyes from inches away, seeing silver eye shadow sparkle alongside black eyeliner, and I realize just how much makeup he’s wearing. It’s gorgeous, like a girl or something … feminine.

His lips break away from mine with a wet noise, and I don’t miss the malicious glint in his baby blue eyes. I open my mouth to ask him something, but he starts kissing my neck and it turns into a groan. His teeth scrape over a chord of muscle in my throat and I suck in a breath. I have no idea what he’s thinking right now, he was the one who didn’t want to fool around, and now here he is doing … this. If I’m not mistaken, he has plans, that’s what that glint was.

He pauses momentarily and holds my shoulders, pulling me into a sitting position, then his hands grab the back of my thighs and tugs me onto his lap. Before he can do anything else and confuse me further, I wrap my arms around him and kiss him hard, trying to regain at least a bit of dominance … but then he does this thing with his tongue, and I lose it. Instead of holding him, it changes into a desperate cling, and a lethal shiver runs through me when I feel his hands at my chest, carefully zipping my hoodie off.

I stop kissing him and pull back just a little bit, his hands don’t stop moving, he unzips my favorite charcoal sweater with the checkerboard hood and eases it off my shoulders, then down my arms. I shiver as my bare skin is exposed to the always frigid air of his room, and I hear my hoodie land with a linen ‘ploof’ behind me. I look into his eyes from inches away, and he’s still got that challenging look to him.

I hate it when he’s snarky, it makes me feel completely powerless, and I hate that. Again, I try to regain some control, and I kiss him nice and slow, bracing my hands against his chest, running them over his collarbone, trying to distract him from biting that spot on my neck again. It’s nearly evening, and since it’s late in the year, it’s almost pitch black outside, our only source of light other than streetlamps outside his window is the small green oriental lamp perched on his nightstand.

I watch our long silhouettes dance on the walls as I slide away from his lips, kissing along his cheek, down his jaw, and to his ear. Swirling his earrings with my tongue, tugging with my teeth, I nip and the shell of his ear and pet his chest, hoping to get him worked up, or at least give me some indication that I’m doing this right. I inhale sharply when he makes a deep, oddly masculine groan in the back of his throat, and I find myself shivering, because with one goddamn noise, he’s won. He says my name lowly, barely a whisper, more of a groan as he tips his head back.

I freeze, teeth in his ear, and I open my eyes.

Without a lot of thought, I blush crimson red from head to toe, because I realize I’m getting hard … I don’t know what to do and my heart starts beating so fast I think I’m having a heart attack, and I’m grossed out and humiliated and ashamed … I want to leap out his window and run home, anything so I don’t have to deal with what he’s going to say. This is not being supportive in his stand to wait. This is being a horny little ungrateful bastard, more or less, or maybe I’m just getting technical.

I draw away from his ear and kiss him again, trying half-heartedly to keep him quiet. I think my lips might be trembling, but I try not to let any of this bother me and I just kiss him, biting at his lip ring, sucking his bottom lip into my mouth. For a while I think I’ll be okay, because he hasn’t noticed anything, and I wonder if he can feel it. If not, I’m in the clear …

… But then his lips stop moving.

He leans back, letting his head rest against the wall next to his bed, narrowly missing a thumbtack. I’m scared to look at him, but when I do, he’s got a very … un-Coy smirk on his lips, a little malicious, and completely and utterly amused. I know he knows, and I look off to the right, heavy blush over my cheeks.

“Shuddup.” I mutter childishly, twisting my painted nails in the hem of his polo. Even not directly looking at him, I can see the flash of teeth in his grin. I feel his hands smooth over my back, nearly hot through the too-thin material. They trace my shoulder blades and come up to cradle the back of my head, one of them presses just behind my ear, turning me to look at him.

I paste a petulant look on my face, so humiliated I’m having trouble breathing, and his bedroom has suddenly gone from too cold to too hot. I squirm in his lap. “What?” I say impatiently, just waiting for him to tease me, and just wanting to get it over with. Then again … there’s always the chance that he’ll … no, never mind.

His thumb smoothes over the shell of my ear, catching on a piercing. “You know …” he says in an unnecessary whisper, leaning in and brushing our noses. “We’ve got two options here. You can either go have a cold shower …” Which didn’t sound too appealing, so I waited for the next one, begging that it wasn’t ‘Get the hell out of my house’. “… Or, you can let me take care of it.”

I think I throw up a bit. I open my mouth to say something, but I end up making a croaking noise like a frog or a squeaky chair. My hands go limp and stop playing with his shirt, because he so did not just say that.

He giggles, brushing his lips against mine, too soft to be a kiss. “That’s what I thought …” he says, playing with my hair and sliding his hands down to my shoulders, un-knotting tense muscles. He drops his head to my neck, tugging me towards him. “Hmm? Just let me touch you … I won’t go any further, promise.”

I can’t believe he’s actually saying this, I’ve gotta be dreaming. I bury my face into his hair, not needing to think a moment, but needing to take this in. There’s only one thing I can manage to say:

“I thought you didn’t want to?”

He gives a low laugh, kissing under my ear. “This is different, this is me doing stuff to you. I just didn’t want you to see me naked …” That just makes me even more out of it, because I can’t even imagine that, and it scares me to try. His logic makes a bit of sense, but I can’t help feeling offended. Why wouldn’t he want me to see him naked? He’s gorgeous, he knows that, right?

“A-alright …” I say a bit shakily, but he makes a really cheerful noise and raises his head, nipping at my shoulder. He doesn’t say anything else as he starts kissing and biting down my shoulder, pulling at my shirt when it stops him. He looks up at me, hair flopping over his face.

“Shirt. Off.” he breathes, looking straight at me, bluntness along with this entire situation making me blush.

I shift uncomfortably. “Can we turn off the lights?” I try to ask, but before I can get the sentence out, he manages to tug my shirt over my head, holding it out straight and dropping it onto the hardwood floor. I fold my arms over my chest, trying to hide every inch of my sickly pale, goose bumped skin from his eyes. My arms aren’t enough, because he’s staring now. I gulp nervously, but calm down when he licks his lips.

“S-sorry I’m not …” I’m a bit lost for words, treading into completely uncharted territory. “… better looking.”

He leans forwards a bit, looking me over again before nipping at my jaw. “Nonsense.” and I feel him smile. I’m still nervous as he starts sucking down my neck and across my collarbone, and all of a sudden I don’t know what to do with anything, so I just rest my hands on his shoulders and … sit there. I feel so sick and scared, barely able to feel his tongue on me through my irrational fear, worried about what he’ll do, what he’s thinking about me, how he has to be judging me … it’s terrifying.

“Calm down …” he whispers into my shoulder, snaking his hand across my skin, pinching and teasing at one of my nipples until I groan. He rubs his palm over my chest. “… You’re taking this too seriously, Kei.”

“This is serious …” I say quietly, fighting against the urge to arch my back, because what he’s doing is starting to feel way too good. “… Seriously serious, seriously …” I ramble, letting my eyes close.

“It’s not a big deal, it’s just … showing you my appreciation.” he tells me, and I can’t help but look at him oddly. He scrapes his carefully manicured fingernails (he’s such a pansy …) over my stomach. “Just think of it as me showing you how much I like your body, hm?” he tries, and I relax a bit because that makes me feel better, and because I like the feeling of his nails.

“Okay …” I say quietly, glad that he likes how I look, though I don’t really believe him. He bites that spot on my shoulder again, slicked with his saliva, and I shudder hard. We keep carefully going at things, and before I know it, my pants are getting in the way of his hands, and I have a feeling he’ll want to dispose of them as he did my shirt. I whisper his name to get his attention, and he gives me a quiet ‘Hm?’ into my chest. “Close your eyes for a sec.”

He blinks up at me curiously before leaning his head back against the wall obediently, closing his eyes with a satisfied smile on his lips. I slowly kneel over him, then stand on his mattress and shimmy out of my jeans. Well, I try to, they’re generally tight to begin with, but they’re a little more difficult to get off when you’re this horny. Once they’re off, I drop them on the hardwood floor with my shirt and after taking several deep breaths, I slide my boxers down my ankles and kick them off.

I chant over and over again in my head, telling myself not to be nervous, and to suck it up because he likes me, but that doesn’t help. I slowly ease back into his lap, and I hear him inhale sharply once my full weight is settled on him. “Um, you can open your eyes.” I say, tone laced with worry, because I don’t have a hell of a lot to be proud of, and I hope he’ll still like me once he sees this. He’s gotta know I’m not gonna be huge, I’m barely five feet tall …

He does as I say and his eyes flicker open. He slows smiles at me, then carefully looks down, trying to seem like he isn’t, but we both know he is. When he does, however, he does the last thing I ever thought he’d do:

He laughs.

I’m even more humiliated than before, if that’s possible, pissed off at the fact that he has the guts to laugh at me, and pissed off at myself for thinking he wouldn’t. I go to crawl off him and leave, certainly not going through with this now, but the minute I move, his hands are on my bare hips, and I turn into liquid at the contact. I sit back down on him, petulant and pouting. He laughs quietly again, lining his nose up with mine and smiling hugely.

“Shh, don’t be mad, Kei …” he whispers, barely able to keep the giggles out of his voice. “… I just forgot you were blonde.”

I’m now officially humiliated beyond all reason. I can’t even get a word out, let alone a sentence to respond, so I just lean forwards and bury my face in the crook of his neck, waiting for him to do whatever it is he wants to do now. I’m relieved that his laughing has stopped, but his silence is almost more unnerving and I’m too scared to open my eyes to check where his hands are. I don’t have to question that for long though, because suddenly I’m hit with the blinding flash of realization that my cock’s being touched by a hand that isn’t mine. Hell, that thought alone is nearly enough to undo me, but I look up into Coy’s suddenly serious eyes and look down at his black painted fingernails on my dick, and I come with a noise that sounds like a shriek, gasping for air and drowning in new sensations.

I pant against his skin, clinging to him desperately, leaning back against his shoulder and watching as he raises his come-soaked hand to his mouth, licking his fingers clean. I stare, somewhat transfixed as he closes his mouth around each of his fingers in turn and sucks, then swipes his tongue across his palm. I consider being vaguely grossed out, and I’ll probably be embarrassed later on when I realize what a quick date I am, but right now I’m way too out of it to think anything past ‘oh god oh god oh god he touched me’.

My heartbeat pounds furiously at my ribcage as he kisses my hair. “How was that?” he says quietly, still sounding amused as ever. I sputter incoherently before managing a few words.

“So … good …”

That must have been the right answer, because he rubs my bare back with his hand and kisses the top of my head again. My body’s still shaking, but he turns me with gentle fingers and tilts my chin up to kiss him hard on the lips. I groan and kiss him back just as hard, because I fucking worship this boy.


xxx Coy’s POV xxx A.N.~ … sorry about that?

I cannot belieeeeve I just did that.

I’m not regretting it or anything, but it was just so un-me. I think I like being un-me, though because that was fun. And so hot. God, I loved the noises he made … who knew he could be so fucking sexy? I wonder if he knows I think that about him, I think he’s a bit under-confident. Anyways, I’ve reverted back to twitchy nervous Coy now that it’s over, but he’s still bare-naked and hugging me.

“Kei?” I whisper after a second. “Can I get up?”

He sits up, obviously embarrassed, and shifts off me, gathering the quilt together to hide his body. I smile at his shyness and kiss him once more before shimmying off the bed and out the door. Once I’m in the bathroom, I strip off my shirt because it’s covered in his come, and my jeans are pretty bad too, so I pull them off and grab a crinkled pair of sweats from the floor, opting not to shower.

I’m predictably thinking back to Keith. Naked. On my bed. Right now. Naked. All sensitive. Waiting for me. Naked. Post-orgasm. Naked. On MY bed.

Now, in the future I will never admit to doing this, but I jack off while he’s only one room away from me. I can’t help it, this is way too much and I’m a hormonally ravaged teenage boy, so I figure I’m allowed. Since I was half hard to begin with, it doesn’t take long; when I’m done, I take several deep breaths, pull my sweats back up and step out into the hallway.

After short contemplation, I get a washcloth from the linen closet, because chances are good that he’s … sticky, and that makes me grin like mad. As I stand on tip toe to reach the top shelf, a door at the end of the hallway opens. The opposite end of the hallway. My mom steps out of her bedroom, and I falter, dropping the cloth.

“Coy? What’s going on?” she asks, motioning to the cloth. Luckily, lying comes naturally to me.

“Sorry, I spilled coke on the floor.” I say hastily, shutting the folding closet door and begin edging back towards my room. I try to send ESP signals to Keith, begging him not to come out here right now.

“Oh?” Mom says curiously. “You should just use a paper towel, honey, no sense in dirtying a washcloth.” she tells me and starts walking down the stairs. I thank god for her lack of short term memory; when I don’t get a paper towel, she won’t notice. I bolt to my room, slamming the door behind me. Keith’s still sitting on my bed cross-legged with part of my quilt across his lap.

“I was going to get dressed, but I’m … uh …” he trails off, and I know he was thinking ‘sticky’. He’s blushing when I smile and toss him the cloth.

“I thought so.”

I watch as he turns the cloth over in his hands nervously for a second before looking up at me. I’m still hovering near the bed, not quite sure what to do next.

“Don’t look.”

I raise my eyebrows at him. “I had my hands all over you, now I can’t even look?”

His blush deepens now that I’ve put it into words, and I still find his shyness hilarious and oddly endearing.

“Not … yet.” he says timidly. I sigh and sit on the edge of the bed with my back to him, reaching for the remote on top of the TV.

“Fine,” I sigh. “This time. Buuut …” I feel the quilt jostle and the bedsprings creak as he clambers out from under the covers. I hear the scrape of cloth. “… I liked seeing you naked. You’ve got a nice body, you know.” I say, wanting to make him nervous above all.

“Shut up!” he laughs, and I do too until I feet something damp hit my cheek. At first I’m confused, but then I belatedly realize it’s the washcloth I gave him, and I fling it off.

“Gross!” I yelp, throwing it against my closet door and watching it land on a pile of books.

Keith snorts as he pulls his shirt over his head (I’m watching out of the corner of my eye). “You voluntarily sucked it off your fingers earlier.” he says, and I don’t miss that hint of disdain.

“That’s different, that was hot.” I reply offhandedly, because it was the truth. That stuff doesn’t taste all that bad, and if I was just a little more perverted, I’d say I liked the taste.

“Was it?” he sounds a little surprised. I look down and his jeans near my feet, and I toss them to him, but hold his tiny underwear in my fingers, grinning. I turn around, but by this time my quilt’s covering all his good parts.

“You obviously thought it was.” I chuckle, because his boxers are a bit damp in certain areas. He blushes deep.

“Get me a pair of your boxers, you dork.” he’s good natured despite his obvious embarrassment. I throw open my closet doors and look around for a moment, grinning when I find the perfect pair. I whirl around and hold them up, watching as his eyes widen.

“Why the HELL do you have girls underwear.” he says in a very monotonous voice, clearly not as amused as I am.

My grin widens. “They’re my sister’s.”

“EWW! … YOU HAVE YOUR SISTER’S PANTIES?!!” he shrieks, backing up on my bed. The covers slip from his lap a little, and I can see his bare hip.

“Calm down, we went shopping once and they were mixed in with some of my stuff. She’s never worn them … you’re going to.” I say calmly and take a step closer with the panties, they’re satiny and pink with only a strap on the sides, and I don’t even want to think about them on Sasha, but I’m having a good time thinking about them on Keith.

“No fucking way am I wearing girls panties.” he says through clenched teeth, and I get even closer, slowly inching forwards until I leap onto the bed and pin him underneath me. He screams a bit, not loud enough that anyone would hear, and he struggles half heartedly. In a contortion that surprises even me, I immobilize him and lift his legs up.

“COY!!” he says loudly, but I know he’s trying to keep from laughing, and I hope he’s starting to get more comfortable with being naked around me. “STOPPIT!”

“Nope.” I say simply and manuver the pink panties around his ankles, then his knees, then over his dick. I snap the straps around his hips and grin once they’re on, keeping his hands pinned to the bed. He looks … amazingly good. They fit well, considering that he and my sister are about the same size, but he doesn’t look happy about it. I stay straddling him, smirking evilly as he squirms uncomfortably.

“Do I really have to wear these?” he asks pitifully. I lean down and kiss him hard, loving the feel of his chest against mine, something I’ve loved since our first kiss and I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving it.

“Mmhhmm … so hot …” I mumble, kissing down his neck, bracing my arms on either side of his head.

He groans and tries to pretend he didn’t. “You taste gross.” he says, raising his hand to wipe at his lips.

“Well that’s your fault.” I suck at his collarbone, rubbing my thumbs over the inside of his wrists.

“Ugh, is that what that stuff tastes like ..?! God, that’s disgusting, how can you swallow that?”

I laugh shortly. “It’s not so bad! I sort of like it.”

“You’re kidding!”

I sit up and grin and him, leaning down to kiss him again, making sure he gets a taste. He struggles, fists pounding at my chest, trying to shut his mouth against my invading tongue, but I’m bigger and stronger, and he has no choice. I finally ease up and he’s panting, glaring at me with eyes that he just can’t make threatening. I smile angelically and flop backwards when he pushes me, and he just sits there wiping his lips.

“That’s nasty, brush your teeth a few times before you try that again.” he giggles, and I compromise by crawling over him and across my bed to grab a pack of gum from my nightstand. “So, uh …” he grabs his pants from the end of the bed and tugs them on, and I snap my gum obnoxiously. “… what now?”

I smile serenely as I grab the TV remote that’s lying forgotten in the sheets. He watches me with a look of childlike fascination as I toe my socks off and curl my body around his, resting against the wall and drawing him against my chest. He doesn’t protest this time, and just settles his back against me, snuggling happily like a puppy. I bury my face into his mess of hair, breathing in deep and closing my eyes just a little unintentionally. I feel his tiny fingers take the remote from my hand, and he flicks the TV on. I don’t know if I should be insulted.

“I think you gave me a hickey earlier.” he comments, flipping through channels. I lean back and inspect his neck, sure enough, there’s the makings of one. I grin evilly, glad he can’t see me, and I drop my lips to his neck, sucking hard on the same spot. He gasps and jerks away from my lips, hopefully in shock. I sink my teeth into him happily, holding his shoulders so he doesn’t get away, not that I think he wants to.

He makes a small ‘yikes’ noise. “Why do you keep doing that …?” he asks quietly, but his voice sounds a little strained. I ignore him for a while, too happy doing what I’m doing, but then he pinches my leg. “Is it another creepy fetish?”

That gets my attention. “What do you mean another fetish?”

He giggles. “I dunno … I catch you staring at my feet a lot. I figured … I dunno.”

I hum softly, pressing my lips back against side of his neck, tilting my head to kiss his cheek. “Possibly ... You just have a nice neck.” and I bite it again.

If I’m not mistaken, his voice is getting increasingly breathless when he speaks. “That’s stupid … you sound like a vampire.”

I wrap my arms around him before sliding one along the hem of his jeans, hooking my fingers in the strap of his panties. Golden curls brush my knuckles.

“You know you like it.” I tease, kissing the quickly darkening hickey on his neck., then up into his hair.

“Mmmh ..” he mumbles shortly, which I take as a yes, because I know that if he’s getting incoherent, I’m doing a good job. I can’t help but grin. I slide my hands along his bare hips and under his jeans. He shivers.

“Tell me you like it …” I whisper quietly, swirling my tongue under his ear.

“Nnh, it hurts … Coy …” he breathes as he slowly closes his eyes …

Without knocking, Sasha walks in. I jerk my head up to look at her, but fortunately she knows me too well and she’s covering her eyes with her hand. “You’d better not be naked,” she says, holding the portable phone out straight in front of her. “Keith, your brother’s on the phone.” and she tosses it to him before leaving, knowing we were on the bed. Hm, normally she sticks around to flirt with him, but she didn’t this time … maybe she’s mad that he chose me, but it’s not like she was ever in the running.

xxx Keith’s POV xxx

“Hello?” I say into the phone, leaning back against Coy’s chest again, absentmindedly running my fingers over the teeth marks in my neck. It stings a little bit, but it’s not too bad … I sort of like it.

“Come home.”

“Wha? Brandon? What’s up?” I ask curiously, because it doesn’t sound good … he never calls here, he knows I’ll be back.

“Just come home. You’re not busy, right?” he asks, sounding tired as always, but there’s a bit of exasperation in his voice.

“No, I’m not busy …” I say, tilting my head back to look at Coy, who gives me a thumbs up. I smile at him. “So you want me home, like … right now?” I try to get him to clarify, because I don’t exactly understand why, he’s never done this before. I hope it isn’t serious …

“Yeah, now.” he says in a sort of clipped voice, unlike his usual slacker-drawl, which I never thought I’d miss, to be honest.

“Alright, I’ll -”

“Hurry.” and he hangs up. I do too, staring at the phone and it’s little ‘call time’ numbers read no more than a minute. Uneasiness settles in the pit of my stomach as I rest the phone on Coy’s nightsand and look up at him, watching me with an apprehensive look. I can tell he wants to say something, but I just roll over and bury my face in his chest, which silences him. He smells amazing but I don’t know why, sort of a fabric softener and cologne scent.

“Brandon says I’ve gotta go home …” I mutter into his shirt, clinging to him. I really don’t want to leave, I was sort of planning to sleep over. I don’t wanna leave him.

“Brandon?” he says, which confuses me because I know he knows who Brandon is. “Not your mom?”

That makes me tense, but he has a point; normally mothers are the ones to call their children home. I really don’t like talking about my mom, not even to Coy, who’s more important to me than anyone. Even though he hasn’t really asked any questions about her, I find myself touching his arms to distract myself from my nervousness. I like his arms … strong. But not in a way that other people would see as strong, but strong compared to me, which I like. He’s paler than pale, nearly white, which adds to his vampirism qualities: blood red hair, never has an outfit without at least a little black on it, and his affinity with all things to do with my neck.

“Yeah, Brandon. He sounded sort of out of it, so I should probably get going …” I sit back on my haunches, wiping the worry from my face. “Are you gonna walk me to the door?” I smile. We walk across his room hand in hand, my gaze doesn’t drop from his. He has the cutest crooked smile right now.

“Hmm … I would, but if we go downstairs, I can’t kiss you so you make one of those sexy little noises …” he says quietly, smirking. I hate the noises I make, so I’m predictably embarrassed. His fingertips touch my jaw and he forces me to look up until he can kiss me without bending over too much. His lips are soft and his tongue is wet, I completely melt against him, practically unable to do anything else. His heavy arms pull me against his chest, and I resist the urge to squirm. Without thinking, I groan softly into his mouth and our kiss breaks when he laughs. I blush and pull back, smacking his arm.

“You’re such a bitch.” I grin. He reluctantly lets me go and reaches behind me to open the door. We step out into the hallway, but I don’t get very far, because he closes his hands around my hips.

“Maybe …” he says, biting at my ear, and I turn around. Even though Mrs. Russel or Sasha could see us at any second, he doesn’t move away, so I nuzzle his nose.

“Are you my bitch?” I tease.

“… Maaaybe …” and he kisses me again. I try to make it short, but I can’t help but linger.

“Okay, I …” he kisses me gently. “… really have to ..” he does it again. “… go … home now … Coy … nngh … listen … he said to … hurry …” his hands hold mine so I can’t push him back, not that I really want to.

“Oh gross guys, I don’t need to be scarred for life just QUITE yet.” Sasha says in that dramatic sort of way she carries, standing just outside the bathroom door. We turn to her, I’m worried, but Coy just looks amused.

“Are you sure?” he asks her. “Come join us and you can get scarred and tainted too.”

“EWWNOWAY! You’re gross Coy!” she leaps down the stairs in horror. Coy laughs as I bristle in his arms, hoping he wasn’t serious. He must have sensed my thoughts, because he gives my shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

“I was kidding, Kei. I don’t like girls, let alone my underage sister.”

I pause for a moment before realizing something. “We’re underage, actually.”

He looks rather surprised, but it’s true. The legal age in this state is eighteen, which makes us two years short. “Hm. So you’re right. Well, that’s not changing anything, right?”

“Of course not.” I say happily and bury my face in his chest, trying to memorize his laundry-cologne smell, but I stop. “SHIIT I have to get home!” I say frantically and run back to his room to get my hoodie, then back out. “Kay, bye now?” I lean in for a last kiss, but he flips me around by the shoulders and pins me to the wall next to his door. “Seriously … Coy, I … need … to get … nnnhome.”

But then he starts biting my neck again, and I know this could be a while. After he’s significantly darkened the blood-sucking vampire mark he’s left on my neck, he finally walks me downstairs. His mom’s in the kitchen, so we’re careful not to touch.

“I’ll miss you …” he whispers with a smile before he shuts the door. God, he can be cute. It’s a little cold out with remnants of snow still on the ground, but for once there’s no wind. It’s not so cold that I’m shivering, so it’s a nice walk home. I’m thinking of him the entire way with a stupid smile on my face because he makes me so goddamn happy. My glow of joy fades the minute I open my front door.

You know if your house smells like booze, something’s wrong. I take a few cautious steps inside before carefully taking off my shoes. I look into the kitchen and Brandon’s at the table, talking into the phone.

“Kay … alright.” he says into it, not looking particularly happy. “Good … thanks Jeff. Yeah, me too … bye.” he hangs it up and looks at me, still not pleased. “Keith, what the fuck took you so long?!”

His voice is harsh, I don’t move. I notice the flicker of light from the TV in the otherwise dark living room across the hall. “Sorry, Coy was … keeping me busy.” I say sheepishly. Brandon stands up and slinks around the table until he’s standing in front of me.

“Well, although I’m glad that you’re a horny little rabbit, we have to leave.” he stares at me.

I forget to take offence to the rabbit bit. “Leave? What’s going on?” I say, panic levels in me rising.

“Mom’s back.”


ohmigod, i saw a boy at the mall who looks like what i‘d want coy to look like in realism <3.

and sorry it isn't beta-read. if it sucks because of it, just go yell at ~Jahagafut, because he should have thought of the consequences before he defiled my innocent sister.





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