Only Seventeen

~ 9 ~

*~*~Justin's POV~*~*

What Brian doesn't know, and I don't tell him, is that I'm a virgin. I don't know why I bothered to keep it hidden because it's fairly evident the moment he starts to enter. I cringe slightly as he eases in. I guess I'm lucky because he doesn't ram in, worrying more about his own pleasure rather than mine. Also, because he's slick with lube, but I'm not expecting the amount of pain that is involved and bite my lip to control any noise that might attempt to escape. I can see through my squinted eyes Brian watching me with his brow furrowed.

"You okay?" He asks slightly above a whisper.

"I'm fine." I reassure him and bring his face down towards mine so that our lips can meet. My hand runs the length of his back, which is now covered with beads of sweat. I pull him to me, wanting to be closer than we can ever be, and he complies.

"Your first time." He states, doesn't ask, just states, and it's all I can do to nod my head. He looks away and slows down. I thrust my hips at him and grasp for his, try to let him know that it's okay, that I'm okay. "Jesus! You should have told me."

"I wanted this." I tell him and plead with my eyes for him to continue. "I still want this. Don't stop." He shakes his head and I can tell he's contemplating it, but his face realigns with mine, and he resumes what he was doing. This time I can feel him trying to be more careful, to make it count. He angles himself to rub across that certain spot, once, twice, and then three times, and I almost lose myself in the feeling. He closes his eyes and I watch him, see for the first time how really beautiful he is. My mother says it's an artist's prerogative, but I doubt this is the time to be thinking of my mother.

Brian dips his head and flicks at the silver ring attached to my nipple, tugs it with his teeth, and looks at me with a mischievous grin. His eyes are darker than normal and it's incredibly sexy. I'm panting, watching him closely as he trails his tongue between the concave of my chest towards the other nipple. My back arches and I let out a deep, guttural moan. Does he know how easily he can drive me mad? Make me want things and do things that under any other circumstance I would decline?

There are too many sensations traveling through my body and I don't think I'm going to be able to last much longer. Brian moves his hand between our bodies and grasps my hard-on with his palm, pumps it in his hand, and I definitely know I'm not going to last. I moan in pleasure when my orgasm hits and Brian follows suit, landing on top of me, attempting to support part of his weight on his arms. We're hot and sticky, the moisture clings in the air, but when Brian attempts to move, I grab for him and pull him back to me.

"Not yet." I plead. My eyes are closed and I'm reveling in the feelings that have just occurred. I'm fighting sleep, but the feel of Brian's lips on my neck and his hand brushing the hair off my forehead lull me and I succumb to the darkness.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I awaken, a smile plastered firmly on my face, and slide my hand behind me. I feel nothing but empty, cold sheets. The smile disappears and I know that Brian's gone. If he was ever here to begin with. Maybe I dreamt about him and my subconscious decided it was a good idea to build it into a reality.

A damn good dream.

An alcohol induced dream, albeit very vivid and graphic, but a fantasy nonetheless.

Only when my alarm goes off, sending a stream of irritating beeps through the air, do I realize that it's a school day. That I'm going to have to walk into the classroom and see Brian, knowing that I had the best wet dream of my life, and it starred him. Hell, he fucking wrote, directed, and produced it.

I push the covers off of me and sit up in bed, immediately greeted by a throbbing pain in my ass. I know now that it wasn't a dream. No dream or hallucination, no matter how good, can be that graphic. The realization hits me and I'm not sure whether I should jump for joy or cower in the corner because as bad as it was when I thought it was a dream, the truth, the reality-I fear-- is much, much worse.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I bounce down the stairs, a dazed smile on my face, and enter the kitchen. My mother is sitting on a stool at the island, a cup of coffee in hand, staring at nothing in particular. I eye her as I move towards the fridge and take out the orange juice.

"Your father called last night." She says, turning to look at me. "After you left."

"Oh." I say, getting a glass from the cupboard. I roll my eyes and prepare myself for the usual morning after routine. "And what'd he have to say this time? Does he want money for utilities? Phone? How about he wants to sell my car, is that it?" I throw out my ideas and she turns her face away from me. I think I see a tear, but I haven't seen my mother cry this whole time so that couldn't possibly be.

"He already did." She says looking down at her coffee, at the wall, the ceiling, anywhere but at me. "Invested the money."

"Oh."

"That's your bad news." She says with a deep sigh.

"There's more?" I ask. The minute I ask, I know it's true because there's no way she'd be this upset about my car. "Whatever it is, we can get through it." I move away from the counter and set my glass down. My arm moves around her shoulder and she's shaking. I've never seen her this upset before, except for the time she thought she'd lost Molly in Meijer. Mom looked frantically, screaming her name, and even had it announced over the PA system. We'd thought we'd lost her, but she was sitting on the floor in the pet department, a guinea pig nestled in her lap. One of the store clerks found her and brought her to my mom. We named the guinea pig Sneakers.

"He wants custody of your sister."

I don't say anything because I don't know what to say. Mom's looking at me expectantly, but the words won't form on my lips. Sure, she can be annoying sometimes and sure, I've wished that she'd leave me alone, but I don't want her across the country. Especially if she's going to be with my sperm donor.

"But…umm…He…" I stutter looking for the appropriate words in this situation. "Shit."

I hear the echo of my sister bounding down the stairwell and cease my thoughts. She peeks her head around the corner, her strawberry blonde hair is pulled into braided pigtails and she's wearing an impish grin.

"Hi, Sweetie." Mom calls when she sees what I'm looking at. Molly slides away from the wall and lays her head on my mom's shoulder. She's wearing the jumper uniform for her prep school. It's long on her.

"Is he in trouble?" Molly asks and points at me. "Did you yell at him yet?"

"No." Mom says with a laugh. Then, she turns to me. "So, you had quite the adventure last night."

I strain to swallow my orange juice, sputtering as I answer. "It was alright, just like any other night."

My mom nods her head and glances at the clock on the stove. "You guys better run off to school. I don't want you to be late."

Molly runs into the living room to grab her bag and meets me at the front door. I usher her out and wait by the door to talk to my mother further. "She doesn't know yet, does she?"

"No."

"We'll fight him." I tell her, opening the door and stepping out.

She nods and pulls her terry cloth robe tighter. "Justin?"

"Hmm?"

"You forgot to lock the back door last night."

My face falls as my mind flips back through the night. "I must've been so tired that I forgot."

"Whatever you say." She's smiling. I like that. "We'll discuss it when you get home."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I drop Molly off at her school and then proceed to mine. The bell hasn't rung yet. There are kids milling around, each complaining loudly about the time of day. It's not that bad, though I'm still on California time. Mom says I'll get used to it.

I pass through the wrought iron gate and march up the stairs to the entrance of the school. I catch my reflection in the glass door; my hair is messy and I look dazed. I guess it works. The door squeaks and creaks when I open it; it's old and heavier than most doors, probably the wood.

I wonder if I'll see Brian before class and if I do, how he'll react. How I'll react. It worries me and I run through my mind what I could say to him, but nothing sounds right. It's never easy to say what you really feel until the moment has passed.

Then, my mind moves to the problem with my father. I couldn't imagine life without Mollusk around. She's annoying, always spelling shit for some 'Bee', correcting my grammar, but I've gotten used to it. I'd miss her. Really. He's only doing this to take unnecessary jabs at my mother. It's not enough that he cheats on her, but he has to take away her family as well.

"Watch it, fag!" A boy that I don't know yells. I didn't realize I had run into him.

The nice thing for me to do would be to say excuse me, but I'm pissed and opt for "Fuck off." I don't think he likes it that much.

He spins on his heels and gets up right in my face. He has bad breath and I wonder if I should offer him some gum or a mint. He probably wouldn't like that either. He's staring, breathing deeply in through his nose, out his mouth. Sometimes, his nostrils flare. It reminds me of a bull.

"You wanna repeat that to my face?"

My head is telling me to turn and run, say you're sorry, but my mouth is quicker. "Fuck. Off."

He grabs my jacket with a rough fist, pulls me closer -if that's even possible-and spits in my face. It lands just this side of my eye. He loosens his grip and I grimace, prepare myself for a punch to some part of my anatomy, but instead he shoves me. Hard. The back of my head smacks against a locker. I don't black out, but I wish I had. I wipe the goo from my face and notice that there's a circle of people around the boy and I. Only one person breaks through to help me.

Daphne.

"Thanks." I whisper, rubbing a hand over the back of my head. It'll be sore for a while.

"That's your only warning." He says, venom in his voice.

"Back off, Chris." Daphne orders, a firm arm around my waist, the other balled into a fist at her side. "Jesus, be more of an ass."

"Stay out of it, Chanders."

He pushes me one more time, I'm assuming for emphasis, but Daphne's arm keeps me upright. She eases through the crowd, picking up my bag on the way, and helps me to my class. I thank her for that.

"Don't mention it." She flips her curly hair over her shoulder and bounces to wherever she needs to be.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I'm sitting in the back row of my communications class, a goose egg forming on the back of my head. I absently rub it with my fingers, wincing each time. I don't know why I continue to do it. Nerves, perhaps.

Mrs. Peterson's at her desk, waiting for the bell to ring, and Brian's nowhere in sight. I don't know whether I should be happy or upset. I'd wanted to talk to him, but who knows if I'd have the courage.

Two rows down and one seat up, Daphne idly plays with her pencil on her desk. She's staring at the eraser, attempting to make it balance on the lead. It's not working. She sighs heavily when it falls for the tenth time. She notices I'm staring and flashes me a toothy grin and a wink before pointing towards the door. I look and Brian's walking in, a stack of papers in his hands. He places them on the edge of Mrs. Peterson's desk and then takes his seat in the plush arm chair in the corner. His hair is freshly washed and there are slight water spot on his shirt. He looks like he just got out of the shower.

My mind flashes images of his naked body, beads of sweat glistening in the moonlight. He looks paler and more blue than what he probably was, but that's the mind playing tricks. I shake my head to chase away the thoughts and immediately regret that decision. My head throbs and the bell ringing doesn't help matters any.

"Okay." Mrs. Peterson stands in front of the class after taking roll. "I want each of you to think of a current event, something that has happened in your life, and then each of you will come up here and give a thirty second summary." She pauses, giving us time to think of something to say.

I don't have anything to say. Well, I do, but it'd sound a little like this. 'Last night I got rimmed and fucked by the hottest guy I've ever seen. It was my first time and hopefully not my last. I woke up this morning to not only find out that my mother knew the whole thing was occurring, but also that my father -who lives in California and boinks his 19 year old mistress-sold my car and wants custody of my sister.' I'm gonna say no to that one.

"Any volunteers?"

Nobody raises their hand, so she picks an aisle and has them begin. I'm fourth and still have yet to come up with any thing to say. It's horrible to get up in front of people and talk, but it's worse if you get up in front of people and can't think of anything.

When it's my turn, I stand at the podium, and expect words to just fall out of my mouth. They don't and I can feel the heat in my cheeks. "I…my…This morning…" I stutter and stall, but my mind is blank. The kids are smirking, their hands attempting to cover their devilish grins. I hear a snicker in the back corner and that's the last straw. I race out of the room and down the corridor to find the nearest trash can.

I hate throwing up.

I turn and slide against the locker, feel the cool metal against my back. My head throbs so I shut my eyes. I hear footsteps and know that the teacher has sent somebody to check on me.

"Justin?" A male voice calls.

"Yeah."

"You okay?" Brian slides next to me and slings an arm over my shoulders and rubs the back of my neck.

I nod, though I'm not sure if I really am. I rest my head against his shoulder and he tenses.

"I heard about what happened." Brian states with a slight pause. "In the hall this morning."

"No big deal." I tell him, reaching up to feel the back of my head. "He was an ass."

"They usually are." The silence lingers in the air and everything that's happened rushes over me. I open my mouth to speak, but close it again, unsure of what to say. I just want to forget for a little while.

"Brian?" He doesn't answer so I take that as an invitation to continue. "Let's go to my house and fuck. Please?"

He moves his arm and stands. "Let's get back inside."

"I need to escape." I tell him, but he turns away from me and walks back towards the room. "Brian!"

"I can't, Justin." He says, his voice distant and eerie.

"What? Why?"

"Last night was fun, but that's all it'll ever be." Brian pauses. "I've already had you." Then, he opens the door and walks in the room, leaving me alone in the hall, and alone with my thoughts.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"He already had you?" Daphne says with a low whistle. "Damn, that's harsh."

"That's what he said." I answer, pushing my food around on my plate. "It just makes you feel about this big." I pick up a green pea and hold it between my fingers.

"Interesting." Emmett says after awhile. "I've always wanted to be privileged enough to know what he says to the ones who stick around."

Daphne punches him in the arm and turns back to me with concern on her face. "Are you going to be alright?"

"I'll be fine." I assure her with a nod. "I'm not some lovesick puppy."

"Plus." Emmett quips. "You work with him so he has to see you."

The bell that signals lunch is over rings and the next class is about to begin. I have gym. I hate everything about it and we'll probably end up playing some retarded kid's game that's been around since the seventies.

I say goodbye to Emmett and Daphne before opening the door to the locker room and throwing my stuff into a locker. I change my clothes in peace and make my way to the gym where everyone is already grouped together.

"Taylor?" A tall man asks. He's got a crew cut, nice build, and there's a whistle lodged between his teeth. He must be the teacher. "You're new, right?"

I nod and he ushers me to join the rest of the class in the middle of the court. I look around and see the asshole from earlier today, Chris, I think. He's leaning against the wall, not really paying attention, but staring straight at me.

"…dodge ball." The only two words I catch from the teacher's mouth.

I knew it.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Sunshine!" Deb calls when I walk into the back room at the diner. She rushes over to give me a hug and I wince when her arms wrap around me. "What the fuck happened to you?"

I mumble something about dodge ball and stupid jocks before walking away to grab an apron off the hook around the corner. She grabs my arm and whips me around. I wish she hadn't. My head still hurts from the locker, and now I have bruises and bumps in places I didn't know existed.

She places her index finger under my chin and lifts my head so we're staring, eye to eye, nose to nose. She can see beyond the discoloration around my right eye, beyond the curtain that I drop between acts. Deb can see it all, sense it all, and she'll call you on it. I've yet to figure out if it's because she's a mother or if she's just got a gift for it.

"That's not all." She doesn't phrase it in the form of a question. Alex would never except that answer. "You did it, didn't you?"

I act vague in hopes that she'll drop it. "Did what?" I really just want to leave, to start my shift so that I may go home and nurse my wounds beneath the hot spray of the shower.

"You let Brian fuck you."

I don't answer, which probably says volumes. Deb knows what he said to me, what he didn't say to me. She knows how he broke the heart I swore I would never allow anyone to break. How I let him into my home and into my bed only to receive the ultimate brush off. Only she doesn't say 'I told you so', or 'you should've followed my advice', or 'I knew it'. She only nods and pats my shoulder gently.

I want to tell her about my father's phone call. How he insists on breaking up the only family I have left out of spite or jealousy. I haven't figure out which one is more powerful, yet. I want to fill her in on the boy -Chris something-from school. I want to tell her how he insisted on throwing the balls only at me during class. How he kept hitting me even after the whistle was blown. How I kept looking towards the teacher for help, but received none.

I want to tell her all of this, but I don't.

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