You know guys, I found it interesting that I have the same exact black hard wristband with buckles that Warren's got. Hehe. Totally by accident too! I wonder if my favorite Firebird shops in Spencer's as well! XDD
Oh my God, I was so proud of myself for this chapter. Finished it in an hour or so. That's total time spent on it, mind you. The between periods consist of my watching Mrs. Brown's Boys, or Queer As Folk or refilling my water bottle or taking a trip to the bathroom for a wee from consuming said water bottle. Speaking of which...I need to refill my water bottle.
This Friday night, Saturday and Sunday is...are...whatver...they're well deserved for all of us! It was a long week! Enjoy the weekend! Watch gay boy porn, lay on your bed fantasizing about your favorite slash relationship, read a few good fictions, and for fuck's sake catch up on some much-needed Zs! I don't think I slept well one night this week! That's gonna change! I'm gonna sleep all day tomorrow! HAH!
~Will's POV~
My fingers jumped from the strings of my acoustic guitar in astonishment. I gripped the neck and the base, quickly turning it slightly up at me. The strings swayed and waved up at my awed face. E, A, D, G, B, e. All of them. Broken. Snapped. I couldn't believe it. I could not…freakin' believe it.
I shook my head in disbelief, "You have got to be kidding me…" I just restrung this! Just! One C chord and they all snap! What the hell?
I cursed my strength. I felt like I had been extremely careful. When me and my Mom and Dad had sat down for dinner, I'd broken my glass of water with one careless grab of my hand. Of course it had scared the crap out of us. Dad then gave me a quick but thorough lesson of how to just pinch things like glasses and other delicate things until I learned the extent of my strength. And also to be careful with biting the prongs on my fork lest they come away in my mouth and I end up chewing metal.
I growled in annoyance and started loosening the keys, removing the strings. After that I took the teeth and removed the string bits at the base. I shook my head, mumbling to myself. I dropped the broken strings in my garbage cans and went over to my desk. I pulled out the long middle drawer and shuffled around for that new pack of strings I bought last week. That is…until I realized that the new pack of strings I'd bought were now lying in my trash can with a couple of tissues, a small sleeve of plastic and a few gum wrappers.
My eyes went up to the ceiling with a groan. I set my sad looking string-less acoustic on my bed. Then I reached up and rubbed at my eyes.
I looked over at my clock and saw that it was 11:17pm. I licked my lips and thought, I can walk into the city and just make it about twenty minutes before Blunt Instruments closes. For a moment, my parents' teachings of caution and stranger-danger and the dangerous weirdos that go out at night and I thought against my original plan. I looked sadly to my guitar that I had really been looking forward to playing tonight. I hadn't had much time or thoughts to pick it up all week and it was long overdue. Wait…If anyone bothers me I can just punch them through the sidewalk…
I laughed and made up my mind. I yanked on my Converse, then laced them up. I knew it would be another few hours before Mom and Dad got back from Italy so I wasn't worried about being reprimanded. Less than twenty minutes ago, Dad had come in to let me know that the Jetstream and the Commander were needed. "The Leaning Tower of Pizza is falling over. We'll probably end up getting invited to that Italian…thing your mom was talking about…I don't speak Italian." He had reached up and taken off his glasses, "So we may not be home for a few hours…or something…I don't know." He turned and left my doorway, mumbling "It's six hours ahead in Europe…? No. But then it's three hours back in California…hmm. Josie! How far ahead is Italy in time?"
I went down the stairs and through the foyer to the front door. I yanked on a jacket. Then I went out and locked the door behind me. I went down the walkway, stuffing my key into my pocket.
I walked quietly, passing under the light from street lamps that cut through the darkness upon the ground. The stars and moon lit up the sky and cast a silver sheen upon the windows on all the houses and buildings I passed.
I hadn't ever gone out walking this late at night. It was kind of nice. The city was interesting at night. And mostly empty. I mean, I passed people occasionally as well as a few cars, but they were docile and hardly said anything to me. One guy with his girlfriend smiled with a nod, and said, "Nice night."
"Yeah it is." I had agreed and kept walking.
I checked my watch and saw that I was running a little behind my schedule.
Maybe I was enjoying myself a little too much.
I turned onto Harvard Street to cut my walking time to Blunt Instruments which was right on the next block. The only sign of life on the street was me. All of the buildings on either side of the street were business offices that were closed up for reconstruction. I ran my hand over a CAT claw machine as I passed it with a smirk, knowing that I could pick the giant hunk of metal right up off of the ground. My palm was dirty when it came away. I grimaced slightly and wiped it off on my coat as I walked.
I heard a distant motor somewhere behind me. That would be a motorcycle. I proudly told myself. Yeah, I knew some things about mechanics and…things…Although I still didn't understand what the hell a transmission really was on a car yet…
The sound got closer and closer as I walked. When I was about halfway down Harvard, I saw a light cut through the dark from behind me. I glanced over my shoulder and there was the motorcycle, rumbling loudly down the street. It was going pretty fast. The light cast upon me and I turned my head to avoid the light as I walked. The motorcycle sounded like it was slowing down…It went past me and did a U-turn and stopped on the left roadside right ahead of me. I lifted a hand against the headlight.
I heard the motor rumble to a stop and I was temporarily blind. The only source of light on this street were the three street lamps so it took me a second to readjust my eyes to the dark again. My eyes comprehended the biker. I saw a full-face helmet with a tinted shade, a leather jacket, jeans and boots. And something told me that a biker at night that had stopped right in front of me was not a good thing. Oh great… I hadn't actually thought that I would have to use my powers to protect myself.
I clenched my fists and one of my knuckles cracked. The biker reached up under his chin and undid the strap to his helmet. Here we go…
He leaned his head forward slightly, and a head of shoulder-length dark hair was released. "Well, what do we have here?"
My limbs froze. My insides froze. My blood froze.
He chuckled in amusement and got off of his motorcycle, setting his helmet down on the seat, "Now just what is Little Stronghold doing out walking late on a Saturday night, hmm?"
I swallowed to wet my dry throat. It didn't work. My heart threw itself against my ribs.
He walked lightly toward me. He tilted his head, "What's wrong? Surprised to see me?" The side of his mouth turned up slightly as he smirked. His scent wafted toward me with a gently night breeze and filled my nostrils. And my body seemed to unfreeze and melt. Nostalgia found me and I breathed deeply through my nostrils, wanting to draw it in as much as I could. There was a hint of Chinese food, but it was hardly noticeable because it was overpowered by his scent. It was the smell of leather, spice, and fire.
He came closer to me and I backed up a few steps. My chest felt hollowed with fear. But I felt something below my waist twitch in interest and excitement. My breath came a bit faster in and out of me.
He reached out a large hand. His black wristband that was buckled around his wrist peeked from under the sleeve of his leather jacket. He placed it upon my chest and gave me a good shove. I gasped and grunted when my back came into contact with cold, hard bricks.
He chuckled, firmly taking my chin in between his strong fingers. "Just what are you doing out here at about 12 o'clock in the morning?" A small shudder went through me and I could tell that he had noticed. He tilted his head the other way, studying my face.
I shuddered again when I felt his free hand against my ribs. I felt it slide across and then slowly drag the zipper to my jacket down. He pushed either side of my jacket open and I felt his fingers slip under the hem of my shirt. My stomach drew in slightly as I felt his warm fingers slither across my sensitive skin.
"Forget how to speak, Stronghold?" He asked huskily.
His fingers slid across my stomach, and clenched my hip in a bruising grip. It made my muscles jump. His fingers quickly became searing hot. I squeezed my eyes shut and yelled out. I felt his hand leave my chin and move down my neck, dragging his boiling hot fingertips across my skin. I felt his teeth clamp harshly down on the nape of my neck. I cried out, and I could feel my erection hardening and weeping against my jeans.
He pushed my jacket from my shoulders and I heard it flop to the unforgiving ground. In my nostrils came the smell of burning fabric. I flinched back against the brick as my shirt fell to ashes, leaving me half naked in the middle of Harvard Street at almost 12 o'clock in the morning.
I cried out when his hands burned across my vulnerable skin. I squirmed, and whimpered. His teeth left throbbing, agonizing trails up and down either side of my neck. He was making me tremble as my muscles tightened up and that pleasurable weight started laying heavily down upon me. I could swear that I would go insane with the pain, and the aching arousal that he just would not touch.
I reached downward to hook my fingers around my penis on my own, to try and provide myself with relief.
"What do you think you're doing?" He growled into my ear.
His large hands hooked around my wrists and yanked them up against the brick high above my head, making balance almost on the tips of my toes.
I flinched when I felt his warm lips press against mine. Dear god, I moaned right against his lips. He bit my lower lip hard, and then ran his tongue against the blood that he'd drawn. His tongue plunged into my mouth and rigidly traced my gums on my upper jaw, the roof of my mouth and my taste buds.
I heard the rush of flames and my wrists lit up in white hot pain as he sucked on my tongue. I whimpered and pulled at my wrists. I cried out, the pain growing, the weight getting the heaviest it has ever been since the first time I masturbated when I was twelve years old.
Tears brimmed my eyes and spilled over. "Please,"
He clamped my wrists into one flaming hand and the other trailed its flames down my bare chest and I cried out.
"Please."
He sunk his teeth into my shoulder. His fingertips dug hard into my stomach.
"Please!"
My eyes shot open and I cried out in pain.
I closed my eyes and then I started gasping for my lost breath. It felt like there was a fuzzy storm cloud in my head, as if my brain had fallen asleep. I laid there, seeing nothing but the darkness behind my eyelids for I don't know how long. Maybe an hour, maybe ten minutes, maybe thirty seconds.
My breath was back and I started to become awake and aware. I opened my eyes and met darkness again except for the moonlight coming through my window. I put a shaky hand onto my mattress and pushed myself to sit up from lying on my side. My comforter was bunched at my feet. I looked around and found my room.
My mom and dad were in Italy.
I was in my room, alone in my house.
I reached up and wiped the cold sweat from my forehead. I reached down and touched the wet crotch of my boxers where my exhausted member lay hidden. I laid a searching hand out across my sheets and my fingers slipped through semen.
I wiped my palm off on my soiled sheets and rubbed at my eyes. I looked at the clock and saw that it was 12:01am exactly. I took in a deep breath and let it out very slowly.
I turned and pushed myself from my bed. I slid down my boxers and tossed them onto my bed. I stood in the moonlight, staring at the mess. Then I took hold of the sheets and took them off of my mattress, the comforter falling to the floor and my pillows sliding to the middle of the mattress.
I bunched them up in my arms and walked from my room and down the hall to the laundry room. I opened the washer and stuffed my sheets and boxers inside. I poured some detergent in and then closed the lid and twisted the knob. I heard the water start streaming into the machine, spilling across my come-covered sheets.
I leaned down and rested my arms against the cold metal. I bent my head down and laid my forehead against it.
That was my first erotic dream…first any kind of dream about…Warren.
