Rick had been in his room for 3 hours, alternating between pacing frantically and sitting on his bed rocking with his head in his hands.
"Omg, Omg I can't have enjoyed that. Not that revolting, unwashed, vile punk!" He hated Vyvyan, everyone knew that. And he was not a poof! Not the People's Poet, who all the girls wanted to get with - even if they didn't realize it yet. He was a sexy, hot-blooded young man and no disgusting punk was going to turn him into some little queer!
But if he hadn't liked it then why did the moment Vyv's tongue touch his arm correspond with a hardness in his pants that was mercifully hidden by his dungarees? Rick slowly began to stroke his hand up and down the part which had been licked and felt little lightening bolts start to travel back down his body, heading for the one part of him that should really not like the idea of Vyv (and his tongue) at all.
He was nearly in tears with frustration with Neil knocked on the door, announcing he had made a lentil midnight snack since no one had bothered to eat the lentil dinner he had been forced to create. Needing to let off some steam Rick screeched that he didn't want a stupid midnight snack and the hippy started to make his way downstairs, keeping up a monotone one-person conservation on why he shouldn't bother doing anything and he would be better off dead.
Hearing the floorboards suddenly creak again Rick prepared himself for another tirade but the slight clanging of chains informed him it wasn't the hippy this time.
Slowly he turned towards his bedroom door, allowing his eyes to travel from the shadow on the floor, then slowly up past boots, jeans, the "love you dead" top and finally into Vyvs eyes. They held no malice, but there was a certainty and determination in them that made Rick feel helpless and somewhat seduced already. He glanced down again and noted the container of ice cream and the spoon that the punk had carried upstairs.
"You liked it, didn't you poof."
***Next chapter will be the naughty one***