Chapter 1

Who could forget their first kiss, especially when it happened while you were handcuffed to your locker?

True story.

It was your average day at St. James. The sun was shining, the sky was bright. Birds were chirping and the air was crisp and cool. And Chris Hobbs was being a complete asshole.

As usual.

I was walking down the hall, somewhat late for class. See, my little sister tripped me on my way out the door, and I got mud on my pants. So I had to change. Then I missed the bus, and… Oh fuck it. I spent too much time jacking off in the shower.

I stopped at my locker to get my math book when all of a sudden I was pushed into the cold locker. Hard. I grabbed the sides and spun around, coming face to face with Chris fucking Hobbs. I peered at him from inside the locker, wearing what I hoped was a really scary expression. I doubt it was.

Chris and I have a mutual understanding. We understand that we hate each other. I think it all started when we were six. We were talking about crayons and then he pushed me into the mud so Anna Peyton would think he was cool. Fucking Anna Peyton.

That was ten years ago. You'd think he would have grown up a little, but no. He's still that little six year old, giving noogies and wedgies. I rolled my eyes. Then I climbed out of my locker. I had kind of forgotten I was in there.

"Stuffing people in their lockers? Really Chris, can't you think of something a little more original?" Then he got that look. The I-thought-of-something-really-clever-and-couldn't-wait-to-do-it look. He gets that look about twice a year, if he's lucky.

The results of that look are never pretty.

"No, I've got something better." God his voice bugs me. So does his hair. Everything about him bugs me, pretty much.

"Oh, what's that?" Then before I really knew what was happening he grabbed my wrist and snapped the handcuffs on. My eyes almost popped out of their sockets. I tried to run but he grabbed me and held me against the lockers while he leaned in and hooked the other side of the handcuffs to a loop on the side of the locker. He laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world. I think I growled. Do you know how fucking hard it is to be tough when the schoolyard bully handcuffs you to a fucking locker?

"Oh, that is so, so fucked up. You're done. Let me go." Yeah, I'm tough. I wasn't scared, just annoyed. I needed to get to class, and Mr. Crapbag was delaying that.

"I don't think so, Taylor." He dangled the key in front of my face and I rolled my eyes, blowing a lock of blonde hair from my face. I raised my eyebrows.

"You're just going to leave me here?"

"Looks that way." He then tossed the key down the hallway. I watched it skitter along the tile and stop in a corner. I looked back at Chris and sighed. He gave me a smug smile and trotted off down the hallway. Fucker.

I look down at my hand, trapped mercilessly in the handcuffs. What's a poor defenseless gay boy to do?

Then I glared at the handcuffs, as if they were going to say 'Oh shit man, look at his face. He's serious' and just pop open. That didn't work. I sighed and leaned back against the locker. I wasn't scared. It wasn't like I was going to die there. I was just stuck there for an hour until class ended, and then I was open to public embarrassment and humiliation. I've had my fair share of that.

After ten minutes or so, I totally went into McGuyver mode. I was thinking about getting the gum from my backpack and chewing it up, and then taking the shoelaces from my sneakers, and tying them together. Then I'd add a paperclip as a weight and stick the gum on it. Then I'd throw it, and hit the key with the gum and drag it over. Yeah, I'm so McGuyver.

My McGuyver plan tanked when I remembered I was wearing shoes without laces. Out of all the fucking days in the world, I choose the day I get handcuffed to my locker to wear those stupid shoes.

After that I got all bitter. I wanted to be McGuyver. It totally would have worked.

Another five minutes passed. I was right in front of the clock, so I stared at it. That made time move slower. Then I started humming and doing little dances. I decided that being handcuffed to your locker in the middle of the day was the most boring thing ever.

I heard the door to the main office creak open. I looked up and hoped it was a teacher, or a janitor. Someone old who wouldn't torment me. Kids can be so fucking cruel. I blinked, and when I opened my eyes again the most gorgeous guy I've ever seen in my entire pathetic little life was standing right there.

Oh shit, insta-boner.

Then I started thinking of really disgusting shit, like cockroaches. But the word cockroaches got me thinking about cock, which made me wonder if the very very pretty boy had a big cock. That didn't help my hard on.

Naked grandmas. Ok, that's helping. My grandma naked, fucking my naked grandpa. Ew. Mission accomplished.

The pretty boy started walking my way, studying a piece of paper intently. It looked like a schedule. He must be new. Score one for Pittsburgh. He hadn't seen me yet, so I hid my cuffed hand in the locker and leaned against it casually. Damned if pretty boy would make my acquaintance while I was handcuffed to the fucking school.

He looked up and locked eyes with me. They were the most beautiful hazel color. I stared at them for a long time, until I saw him raise one elegant eyebrow and realized he was talking to me.

Way to go, dumbshit.

"Hi." That's all I could say. I am so special ed. I'd bet I was blushing too.

"Hey, I'm Brian." That's my new favorite name. It just rolls right off the tongue. Brian. Oh yeah, he probably wants to me say something back.

"Justin." Ok, more than one word would have been just fabulous.

"Nice to meet you." He stuck out his hand and I awkwardly stuck out my left hand so he could shake that one, since my shaking hand was occupied. He shook his head and switched hands. "I was just wondering if you could help me out. It's my first day here, and I was wondering if you could show me around?"

Oh, I'll show you around. No! Bad Justin! I'm such a fucking nympho, and I hadn't even kissed a guy yet.

Then I started wondering if pretty boy, Brian, was gay. I looked him over and he did the same, smirking in this sexy way. My gaydar started pinging like mad.


"What class do you have right now?" I asked, still leaning against my open locker. My hand was falling asleep. He looked down at his schedule for a second. He has such perfect hair.

"Math with Quay."

"No way. I'm supposed to be in that class right now."

"Oh, good. You can walk me there then." Hell yeah. I stepped away for a second and felt the handcuffs pull me back. Nope.

"Uh, I'd love to, but..." I trailed off. I couldn't think of an excuse. He looked a little hurt and started to walk off. I grabbed his arm with my free hand and turned him around. I dropped my head and stepped away from the locker, revealing my predicament. I was afraid to look up until he started laughing. "Thanks."

"I'm sorry," he got out between the laughter. He held his stomach and wiped his eyes as I rolled mine. "How the fuck did you get handcuffed to your locker?"

"This asshole likes to torment me." He smiled, that tongue in cheek smirk again. I felt like I was falling. Maybe I was.

"Well that's unfortunate. I don't suppose you happen to know where the key is." Brian shifted his weight and dropped his book bag near my feet. Ok, it should be a crime to make a school uniform that sexy.

"Actually, he tossed it over there. It's in the corner." I pointed to said corner and he turned to follow my finger.

Now please go bend over and pick it up so I can check out your ass.

Oh shit, he raised his eyebrow. Please tell me that I didn't just say that out loud. I don't think I did, but he looks amused. Oh god. Maybe I did. But he isn't saying anything. Maybe he's shocked. Maybe he doesn't care. Maybe he wants me to check out his ass. I shook my head. Maybe I suck at life.

He started walking over to the corner, and I still didn't know if I said that out loud. I had no clue if I just made a complete fool of myself. Brian reached the corner and lifted up his uniform blazer up in the back, wiggling his ass and making a show of bending over. He looked over his shoulder and winked at me.

Oh my fucking god. I am the biggest loser ever.

He has the hottest ass ever, and that's more important.

So I'm standing there, salivating over pretty new boy's ass as he retrieves the key to unlock the handcuffs trapping me half inside my locker. Ah, life is grand.

He came back over to me and stood a few inches in front of me. He's tall. He stretched his arm above my head, dangling the key above me. That isn't cool.

"Don't you think I've suffered enough?" I gave him my biggest puppy dog eyes and he laughed.

"I don't think so." He raised the key higher and I sprang up, trying to grab it. My foot slipped out from under me as I landed and I slipped, falling right into Brian. My forehead hit his shoulder and my arm wrapped around his waist instinctively so I could regain my balance. I kept my face buried in the lapel of his blazer, frozen in embarrassment. I mentally surveyed my internal Crayola box, trying to guess what color my face was. I'd put money on candy apple red.

Let's review, shall we? In the past five minutes I'd met Brian, revealed to him that a bully handcuffed me to my locker, told him that I want to check out his ass, and tripped and fallen into him, while still attached to the locker. I am smooth.

I remembered I was still clutching to him with one arm and was about to pull away when I felt his hands slide up my back. They were large, warm, and so strong. He leaned into me and my face slid up to his neck. He smelled of cologne and cigarettes, and I was instantly addicted to the scent. He gently pushed me back against the locker door and looked into my eyes. Then he licked his lips.

Ok, did he want me to cream my pants?

I spotted a hint of confusion in his eyes, like he wasn't sure what was going on. But I could tell he wanted something to happen and I felt my heartbeat speed up. This couldn't be happening. Then he leaned forward and placed his lips against mine, tenderly, apprehensively. It took me a full second to respond. I think my entire body sort of melted into him. His lips were so soft, so incredible. I felt a tingle down my spine.

The kiss deepened. His tongue slid into my mouth and I mimicked his actions. He placed his hands on my hips and I slid both hands up his back.

Wait a minute. Both hands. I was free!

I pulled away form the kiss and held my hands up, confirming that he indeed released me from my confines. The handcuffs were still attached to my wrist and I glared at them. He chuckled at my expression and took the handcuffs off of my wrist. He took my hand in his and lifted up my sleeve. There was a dark purple bruise forming on my wrist and he furrowed his brow and ran his finger over the bruise.

He so cares about me.

He lifted my hand and placed a soft kiss against my wrist before letting go of my hand. He took the key and the cuffs and slipped them into the pocket of my blazer.

"Keep those, they might come in handy someday." He gave me a wicked smiled and another quick peck on the lips.

I gave him my most dazzling smile. Then the bell rang and the herds filed out of every doorway. He picked up his backpack and smiled at me, a shy, knowing grin.

"We should get to class."

"Yeah." I sounded like a dreamy schoolgirl.

"Later Sunshine." He turned on his heels and walked down the hallway, mixing in with the other teenagers. I watched him until he was out of sight.


"And that's the story of my first kiss," I tell Daphne proudly as we walk closer to my house. I can't keep the smile off of my face. It might be permanent.

"That's so wild!" She exclaims. Her eyes are so big and bright. She's so cute. I just want to hug her. So I do.

"It was amazing, Daph!" It really was. We turn onto my street and she starts asking questions.

"So are you guys like, boyfriends now?" I wish.

"We just met."

"Do you want to be?"

God yes.  "Maybe."

"That's awesome." She looks up and nudges me. "Hey, looks like you finally got some new neighbors." I look up and see a moving truck in the driveway of the house next to mine. A surly looking old man climbs out of it carrying a box.

"Brian!" He bellows. I think my heart just stopped.

No fucking way.

I look up at the doorway and see Brian come out of the house, wearing a pair of worn old jeans and a black tank. He walks down the driveway and takes the box from who is presumably his father and trots into the garage.

Brian is my new neighbor? Holy fuck.

Things are looking up.

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