Author's Notes: Although it seems that no one read the last chap (if you did, it'd be really nice and only fair if you left me a review so I can see if ANYONE reads this fic anymore), I will present you the next chap and therefore the first one Cerulean Twin corrected for me. I'd be happy if you could give me some feed-back on my beta's work. Though I'd be happy if you gave me any feed-back at all -.-
Chapter Twelve: Fucked up
On Tuesday, I found Seifer in front of my house waiting for me to come home. Sitting on the top step, he had his nose buried in a folder that looked too much like math. Did I tell you the story of How Squall Leonhart Came to Hate Math? No? Well then let me sum it up for you.
It was shortly after entering middle school and meeting Seifer at our martial arts club – but that's still another story – that our old math teacher went on a hiking tour and fell off the mountain. I laughed my ass off and the principal gave me one week's worth of detention – so the school had to find a substitute. So guess who thought she could handle teaching calc to us well-behaved kids; right, our art teacher. Problem was, she'd probably had her last math lesson in college and that was about thirty years ago. Half of the class could do the stuff better than her and the other half didn't understand a word.
Thus we convinced her to let us have more interaction in class and math classes became fun again. Now the students explained the new stuff and our teacher just sat there, smiled and tried to correct our homework. You might wonder why I said I hated math; easy enough to explain. As soon as my class mates realized that I was really good in math, Selphie and Seifer – they are a SCARY union – decided to make me the new teacher. Great, isn't it? So anti-social little Squall had to do twice the work for math, thus tried real hard to live up to everyone's expectations, spent his free time learning more and more math and became the nerdy freak he is now. Not to mention that I trained even harder in my martial arts club to be able to defend myself against the bullies. And that's the reason why I'm awesome in math, worked as a math teacher without salary until high school and came to hate math.
Anyway, back to today. The Prick was sitting in front of my door trying to beat that shit into his brains and giving me fantasies about how I could teach him some more. Maybe it was time to try some role-plays.
"Mr. Almasy, homework is to be done at home. If you wish to have private lessons with me you should get up and follow me into my office." I barked at him in my best teacher voice. Oh wow, I guess I still rocked. He looked up from his papers, grinned at me and let me pass so I could open the door. Once it closed behind us, he shoved me against the nearest wall and our lips locked in a fierce kiss, fingers tangled in shirts and hair. It took us almost ten minutes to shrug off our jackets and shoes without breaking the kiss. He then picked me up and carried me up the stairs after I'd motioned for him where my room was. He didn't throw me on my bed though, but instead sat down on my office chair in front of my desk with me straddling his lap. By now we were both rock hard, grinding against each other. We both moaned when he bit my neck again. I guess I will have bite marks for the rest of my life. Not that I care. I slipped my hand beneath his T-shirt, running my fingers over his smooth skin. I wanted him naked so badly. He took my shirt off faster than I could react, digging his fingers into my back, smashing our lips back together. I lifted his T-shirt enough to feel our skin rub together. I moaned again.
It was only then that we heard a noise from the doorway that resembled a strangled sound. Our heads shot up, turning to the source of the sound. It was my dad. Standing in the doorway with his mouth agape and an expression of complete and utter shock written on his face; it could have been funny under different circumstances. It only made me feel like someone had made me swallow a ton of ice water right then.
"Shit." It was the only thought my mind provided me with. Did I mention I wanted a gun and a bullet rather desperately? My father's expression changed into barely suppressed anger and disgust.
"Call me when you're done." He just said in a voice that cut deeper than steel. He turned around, closed the door behind him and the sound of steps on the stairs informed me of his retreat. Why hadn't we heard his steps moments ago? I turned to look at Seifer.
"I'm a dead man now, ain't I?" He sounded really worried. I shook my head.
"No, don't worry. He'll concentrate his anger on me. Now you have an idea of how he reacted when he saw me in that skirt." Seifer bit his lower lip.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to – "
"Don't apologize!" I interrupted him. "By now I don't care anymore." I grinned. "Nothing can stop me now 'cause I don't care anymore." I started singing while kicking my stereo on, switched to "Piggy" and resumed our making out. It was probably the weird tension between us or the knowledge that my father would give me hell later that made Seifer fuck me harder than he ever had. I know you might wonder how he could do that without hurting me; he didn't. He hurt me a lot but like I already said: I don't care. I even loved it. I'm quite a masochist. He took me on my desk, thrusting hard and deep, but still fast enough to make me run out of breath a few times. I choked on my moans while he kept going like it was the most normal thing in the world. This time I came before him. My last conscious thought was to push my papers and my computer keyboard out of the way so I wouldn't have to explain to my teachers why I had cum all over my homework. My orgasm left my head swimming for minutes.
"I should probably fuck off before your father decides to come back because we took too long." Seifer joked but my heart sank. I nodded nevertheless, accepting the tissues he'd grabbed from my nightstand. I still felt too dazed to talk. "Finally managed to fuck you stupid?" He chuckled, reading me way too good for my comfort.
"Hey, I'm sorry I didn't get to teach you some math. How about I make up for it after training on Thursday?" I offered when I saw his papers lying in the hall which was a mess. No surprise dad came to check on me with all the jackets and boots scattered all over the place.
"That'd be awesome. I know I learned that stuff sometime but I just can't seem to remember how it's done. Let's do it at my place so I can fuck you afterwards." There was that suggestive grin again and I couldn't help but chuckle. I kissed him good-bye – more like made out good-bye – and watched him leave through the living room window – I mean, he left through the door and I watched through the window. You have strange ideas, guys - as I decided to have a drink before I called my dad. He picked up after the second ring.
"Dad, you can come back." I wanted to say some more but he'd already hung up. I waited impatiently, like a lamb waiting for slaughter. Well, I guess they don't wait for it 'cause they don't know they'll be killed but I knew. I took a look at the clock. It told me mom would be home soon, too. Wow, I was SO looking forward to telling them I'm bisexual, or maybe rather gay in denial? Hm, whatever. This would be so much fun. I needed a ride to la-la-land so I didn't have to cope with this shit. Somehow straightjackets seemed rather inviting right now. Though maybe I should return to my original plan with my dear old friend the gun? Oh yeah, I'm insane. Beautiful world.
Fuck off, you're scary. Just let me handle this. Oh great, I'm schizophrenic and have multiple personalities now. My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door. I refilled my glass before my dad entered the room. I didn't say anything, just stared out of the window. I wondered how much I looked of the fuck I just had. I should have checked. Fuck.
"I'm curious as to how you're gonna explain that to your mom." My father's voice was quiet and calm; the voice he always used when something was totally wrong. Like that time when I'd knocked Seifer unconscious with a stone because he had tried to kiss me. I wondered if dad had recognized him.
"Why don't you do that? I'm sure you have a lot of beautiful words you can use to describe me." I took another gulp of what I thought might be whiskey. I'd be hammered before mom came home at this rate. My father didn't reply with anything. Hit a nerve? So we stood there and waited. At least he hadn't screamed at me yet. Might be a good sign, right?
When the door opened again and the cheerful voice of my mother greeted us, dad slipped out of the room. I didn't listen to what he told her. I tried to sing "Reptile" in my head but somehow I couldn't remember the lyrics. It was just a loud blur of screaming, drums and abused guitars.
Hey pig, yeah you, hey pig piggy pig pig pig, all of my fears came true. At least I could still sing "Piggy".