A/N

If you were with me from the VERY rough draft of this, thank you and please start from Chapter 1.

Want more updates? Motivate me by leaving a review!

Disclaimer: Explicit drug references and sex, plus, the latter part may only get worse as the chapters progress, please don't read if it makes you uncomfortable or if the law says you're not old enough to.

I don't own Square Enix.

X

X

X

I was on my side, getting thoroughly fucked from behind by the foreign exchange student.

He latched onto my neck and sucked, and sucked, and sucked, to the point it hurt. He was giving me a hickey. One big, bad, motherfucking hickey. I didn't stop him. Shit, my mom could walk in the room right now and I wouldn't stop him. God damn this boy could fuck.

The springs of my mattress complained, my headboard hit the wall at least once every second. Where the hell was my mom?

You're probably wondering how the fuck I got here. I suppose it all started with pot. Gateway drug, indeed...

Something about him made me uneasy at first. Like, he was some sort of King and I was his court jester; if I didn't amuse him, off with my head!

Well, you know what? He was a guest in my house and he didn't have the right to make me feel this way!

I stopped myself from thinking any more crazy thoughts when he finally blinked, and it wasn't just any blink, it was a "What the fuck is wrong with you?" blink.

He wasn't doing anything wrong. Shit, he hadn't even moved. I took a deep breath.

"So...do you smoke?" I asked, hoping like hell he did because I'm a long time disciple of the prophet Mary Jane and I really needed her spiritual healing right now.

"No. It's disgusting." he answered.

"Um, I meant like pot...green...herb...ganja...puff the ma-" I shut my mouth when he gave me a look that told me to do just that.

"I get it." he said, "Sure, why not?"

Even though I offered, I would have never guessed he was a smoker. He was so damn intense. Maybe he was just being polite. Regardless, I smiled and walked around him to get to my walk-in closet.

I stood on tippy-toes to reach my stash box from where I had it hidden along with some of my more placating faggot paraphernalia. My mom was too short to even think about trying to look up there without something to stand on. Lucky for me, she was deathly afraid of heights.

As I felt around for it, my shirt rose up, revealing my belly. I unconsciously looked in his direction only to see him looking me up and down like I was giving him a special birthday pole dance or some shit. I should have been thrilled, but my past experience with heterosexual teenage males taught me that they'll check just about anything out. I turned away when I had to stretch a little more because I knew I'd have to stick out my ass and my face was red as it was.

I jumped when I felt a warm body against my side and turned over to see him grinning down at me.

"Need a little help?" he asked and didn't wait for my reply. Instead he placed one hand on my lower back and reached overhead with the other. His eyes got wide and when he pulled his hand back, so did mine.

"Is this what you were looking for?" he asked in all seriousness.

I was mortified. In his hand was "Happy" my trusty dildo. "No!" I shrieked. "Put it back!".

"Oh, ok." he was terrible at playing stupid.

He felt around for about a second before he "magically" found my little Sailor Moon tin and handed it to me. I took it and squeezed past him to get out but I couldn't avoid brushing against him as he wouldn't move. I sat down at the foot of my bed and began getting down to business. When I saw that he hadn't followed me, I giggled and said, "You can come out of the closet now!"

"Too late." he informed me as he casually stepped out.

I don't know if this was some sort of sick Nibelheim humor or if he meant it just as us city folk would interpret it. All I know is that I felt like I'd been kicked in the stomach. Was he fucking with me? Had to be. He knew I was a queer and how he affected me and now he was trying to lead me on so he could do the "Mexican Cha-Cha" all over my gay little heart. Damn, this shit really does make you paranoid...

Don't. Care. Must. Smoke. Now. Kill. Brain. Cells.

He sat next to me and looked over my shoulder. After a moment he asked, "May I?" and took the tin from my lap, transferring it to his. Now I was looking over his shoulder, curious to see what was so special about his bowl packing technique.

He reached over and took a paperclip from my desk, which he then straightened so that it was one long piece of wire. Taking a lighter from my tin, he turned my pipe upside down, holding it by the tip and let the flame heat it up. He then used the paperclip to scrape some black shit out of the pipe and began to roll it in the weed I'd already broken up on the tin. The result where sticky little pot balls which he diligently got to packing into the bowl of the pipe.

"Ever smoked resin?" he asked as he worked.

"No." I answered shaking my head cutely.

"I can tell. Your glassware is a goldmine." he smiled deviously.

He handed me his masterpiece and the lighter and said, "I call this a Supernova – pleasure's all yours".

"Thanks." I beamed.

I brought it to my lips, innocently lit up, and inhaled. My lungs felt like they were on fire by the time I passed it back but tried really hard not to waste it by coughing. This is Grade A Gongagan shit we're talking about. What? Do you think I have no priorities?

"Why didn't you tell me that shit was so strong? I mean...why is it...what the hell is it?" I asked already feeling fuzzy.

"It's just the concentrated residue of everything you've ever smoked in there. Very high in THC. Useful if you ever run out and also a nice way to spike an everyday session." he answered all spokesperson-like.

"You're so smart." I could feel myself smiling stupidly, but he paid no attention and took his turn lighting up. "So, what brought you to Midgar?" I asked, feeling a lot more relaxed.

"A plane." he replied dryly upon exhaling.

I giggled and accepted the pipe back. As I was lighting it up, I looked sideways and saw his eyes zeroed in on my lips. Somehow his little closet joke was starting to make more sense. He brought his eyes to mine and chuckled.

"Sorry, it's been a while." he apologized and looked down almost as if he was embarrassed.

I wanted to ask him what he meant by that. Like, it's been a while since you smoked? Or since you saw a pair of sexy lips like mine? Instead I said, "It's ok." and continued the rotation. "Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

He nodded his head a few times as he lit up. I waited for him to exhale and got excited when he reached in his back pocket. He flipped open his wallet and gave me a glimpse of his driver's license.

"You drive?" I asked incredulously.

"Uh huh." he answered like he was fully expecting me to ask for a ride to the mall. Do I seem like that type of person? I walk...sometimes.

"How old are you then? I thought we were in the same grade." I asked, feeling even more intrigued by this mature driving man.

"We are, but I'm 19." he explained.

"Oh, how come?" I scooted a little closer.

"I started late." was his answer. It sounded a little choppy but I pressed on.

"Why?" I was genuinely interested.

"I was sick." was all he would say and I chose that moment to let it go. The tension was practically rolling off of him in tidal waves.

"I'm sorry." I was apologizing for more than just his illness.

His expression turned mischievous at that and he asked me, "Why? Was it your fault?" he raised his eyebrows in mock shock. "I knew you looked suspicious."

"Stop being stupid!" I squealed. I'm such a girl.

He continued to flip through the inserts in his wallet until he found what he was looking for.

"That's them." he said, pointing to a picture of himself and three other silver-haired sexies. Talk about good genetics! They all seemed to be competing for his attention in one way or the other. Shit, I'd be all over big brother too!

"Everyone says Yazoo is the prettiest, but it's this hell-raiser right here that has me wrapped around his little finger. He's the baby, of course." he explained with a touch of longing as he rubbed his finger tip on the image of a miniature him with chin-length hair. The kid was gorgeous, but something about him screamed "psycho". I could almost hear him saying, "You no-good city whore! Touch my bro-bro and I'll kill you!".

"Well, he is a cutie." I smiled, trying not to picture the kid running after me with a knife Chucky-style.

"Yeah...I can relate to him a lot." oh, he did not just say that!

I pretended I never heard it and pointed to the pretty girl named "Yazoo". I liked her, she looked normal. "She is beautiful." I said.

He let out a loud laugh and said, "Oh, well...Yazoo is a boy."

"Shit, I'm so sorry! It's just you said pretty...crap." I tried to excuse.

"It's ok, he's not one to preoccupy himself with issues of gender or orientation, for that matter." he brushed me off.

"He's gay?" I shrieked.

"Depends on his mood." he drawled.

"Hell, that's good enough for me...if all else fails..." I thought aloud.

"If what fails?" he asked, sounding like he didn't like what I was insinuating.

"Never mind, I'm just rambling." I fibbed. "Aren't you going to hit that?" I pointed to the pipe, scrambling to avoid the subject.

"Hmmm...ok." he didn't look too convinced. He examined the pipe and turned to me saying, "Last hit."

"Go ahead." I encouraged him.

He was about to light it up when he turned to me and suggested, "Shotgun?" with a sly smile.

Troublemaker!

I could feel myself blushing but nonetheless nodded as he inhaled. After a few seconds, he turned to me, looking into my eyes before slowly moving forward. Our mouths closed in on each other to prevent the air we were passing back and forth from escaping and stayed that way a lot longer than necessary.

He pulled away first, taking a deep breath. I didn't move a hair, my lips still tingling from having made contact with his. His eyes went to my mouth, still slightly agape as he exhaled. When the soft, pleasant wave of smoke hit my face, I closed my eyes. Then he kissed me, shy and tentative at first, but growing steadily into something more passionate and demanding. I put my arms around his neck, urging him to close the space between us and he pushed me down on my back, never breaking the kiss as he crawled on the bed to hover over me on his hands and knees.

His tongue was slick and hot as it swiped across my bottom lip before diving deep into my mouth. He didn't kiss like anyone I'd ever kissed before. It was as though his mouth was a vessel for desire itself. With kisses like his, there was no need for foreplay. I can't imagine anything being more arousing. So turned on was I, that I couldn't silence the little moan that escaped into his mouth.

I desperately wanted to feel his body on top of mine, so I tugged on his shirt. Suddenly, his hands went to my arms, unwrapping them from around his neck and he broke the kiss, rolling onto his back next to me.

I don't think I've ever known a greater feeling of loss. I sat up on my elbows and watched him stare at the ceiling.

"Wh, What's wrong?" I asked, the tininess of my own voice shocking me.

He tore his eyes away from the ceiling and sat up on his elbows looking at me as well, lips swollen and hair somewhat disheveled. His expression was kind of sad when he stated, "You're a minor."

"What?" I exclaimed, stunned. "I don't care!"

He gave me an amused look and said, "Of course you don't. You're not the one going to jail."

I looked down, feeling hopeless. Though there was no malice in his words, they still stung. I was about to cry when I felt his hand cup the side of my face.

"Hey...hey...look at me, don't be sad." he said, adding, "No, no, no, no..." when I finally let a big, fat tear slip, which he softly cleared away with his thumb.

"I thought your mom said you were a nice boy, huh? Why are you being such a brat?" he tried to humor me, "Do you want me to go to jail?" his tone was so light and playful that I nodded my head enthusiastically, despite my inner anguish.

He laughed and said, "That's not nice!" letting his hand drop from my face.

"I don't care..." I mumbled miserably, my eyes following his hand to the waist of his black jeans where he appeared to be adjusting himself. He was hard. Very hard.

I put my hand on his chest and trailed it down to his bulge, avoiding eye contact in case he disapproved. I wasn't thinking. I wanted him so bad. I grasped his cock through his jeans and began to rub it, slow but deliberate. I dared a glance at his face and noticed that his eyes were hazy and he was biting his bottom lip.

"I won't tell anybody." I whispered. "I promise."

"You're so fucking bad." he breathed out, raising his hips to my touch. I tested my luck further by unbuttoning his jeans and pulling his zipper down, revealing the moist head of his cock peeking out from his boxers. I ran my index finger along the tip and he hissed, making me flinch. I was so afraid he'd make me stop.

I slid his boxers down as far as I could, and began stroking him like I liked it, hoping it was like he liked it too. I couldn't stop staring. I almost didn't believe it was my hand wrapped around that long, thick, beautiful organ or the body it was attached to.

He's Fucking perfect.

My eyes focused on his face when he groaned and turned towards me. He grabbed me by the back of my neck and pulled me in for a dominating kiss. His tongue and teeth were everywhere, making it hard to breathe but my hand didn't skip a beat. I felt his own hand crawl under my shirt and his fingers teasing my nipples. I whimpered when he pinched one roughly and my hips bucked towards him of their own accord.

He lifted my shirt and ducked his head to soothe it with his tongue and I almost screamed when I felt him undoing my pants. "Oh, god..." I moaned as he wrapped his hand around me and squeezed. "Please, please, god, oh...please..." was all it took to get him to pump me, hard.

Our kisses grew more vicious as we jerked each other off mercilessly. I was so fucking out of my mind that I actually bit him. He then released my cock and wrapped his hand around my neck instead with enough pressure to get a point across and said, "Bad". I panicked for a second and he must have felt it because I could tell he was smiling. His hand snaked down to my ass and cupped it before giving me a hard smack. I moaned loudly in response and writhed uncontrollably, pumping him faster.

He slid his hand inside my jeans and I could feel him shiver when he felt my bareness. His fingers dipped between my ass cheeks and brushed my entrance teasingly. "Yes...please...don't stop..." was all I could manage. He pushed the tip of his index finger inside me and groaned, "So fucking tight..." before he let it fully penetrate.

"Yeah...for you...please...fuck me..." I begged, using all my strength to push back against him. He took my hand off his cock and rolled me over onto my side, facing away from him. I looked over my shoulder and saw him pulling his pants down and licked my lips reflexively. "I'm going to come all over myself if you keep doing that." he said, using a tone that made it clear he wasn't exaggerating.

"No...don't...come in me..."

"Fuck."

He spit in his hand and lubed himself up fiercely before aligning his cock to my entrance and pushing in to the hilt.