I pushed him up against the wall. His back hit the bricks with a light thud. His fingers were gripping it, waiting for me. I slid easily into my place in front of him. Kissing those sweet lips, gently taking his hat off and tossing it to the side. I ran my hands over his pale hips and then around to his back. He ground up against me eagerly.
"Come on." He was as impatient as ever. I chuckled, kissing him deeply. Reaching to unzip his jacket and placing my arms around his skinny waist. His fingers came up to push my hood off and tangle in my hair.
"Feels so good..." He breathed. I loved the way he sounded when he got needy. It was cute. He'd probably hit me for ever telling him that, though.
He had been so nice to me. He was always one of the more compassionate people in our group. Three days ago, I'd been hit by car. I didn't take it personally. It was the seventh time I'd died in that fucking deathtrap parking lot.
As I was laying there, convulsing and coughing up blood, he told me he loved me. I was gone before I could say anything back. I knew he wouldn't remember later, but it still meant a lot to me that he'd said that.
I kissed him again, then trailed more kisses down his neck, undoing a button on his shirt. His fingers moved down to my back, squeezing tight as he closed his already hazy looking eyes.
He gasped as I played with the hem of his pants. He pulled me even closer, blushing deeply. Shifting his legs almost like a girl. It made me laugh lightly.
He paid my laughter no mind. It was so good to be wanted. It felt so good to be loved. I nipped at his neck, grabbing his ass and then trailing my fingers to his thigh. He groaned. It was a good noise. I tried to see if I could get him to do it again by tracing the hem of his pants again. We hadn't often gone under the clothes, but we both had a free period and I was feeling particularly infatuated that day. He didn't object. In fact, he gave me that same small groan.
I knew someone else wanted this more than anything, but we were meant to be. That's what I told myself. I would protect him from that other person. That other person would only hurt him. I would never hurt him. And he would never hurt me.
Encouraged, I unzipped his jeans, tugging them down with his boxers. He was already hard. I bit back another chuckle. I supposed not everyone had all of my experience. I wrapped my hand around him and started stroking gently. He pressed his hips forward, eyes shut tight, mouth open in pleasure.
"S..."
I was confused. Softer? I had been about to pick up the pace, I didn't figure him for someone who needed things so gentle, with all the fights he got into.
But then he said it. Softly, barely audible.
"Stan..."
I froze. My mouth felt dry. I was deeply shaken by just that name. But at the same time...I didn't want him to know I'd heard.
It was like I wanted to un-hear it. I kept going after the brief pause. Praying he didn't realize I'd heard. I didn't think he had.
But I felt sick. Used. And here I thought he'd loved me. It had been childish. Stupid. I was stupid for thinking this had been any different. We didn't really do much after that hook up. And we never really would again. It was too difficult for me to continue. He didn't mind. Just smiled that perfect little smile and said 'okay.'
I wondered if he'd been pretending I was someone else the entire time we'd been fooling around.
Probably. I'd learn later that he had a bad habit of doing that.
