Summary: What if Max and the Flock had never gotten "the talk"? What is the outcome of an adolescence without an adult and knowledge of societal norms?
Chapter Eighteen: The Road to Hell is Paved with Gold.
Virgin. Was I a virgin. What did that mean? I mulled it over in my head at rapid rates despite the blank, expressionless page written on my face like a book, as I slowly brought my head up and turned it over my right shoulder to look at her.
She stared right back, with a look of slight apprehension, a touch of doubt, coupled with a mere inkling of what seemed to be self-denial for the sake of fear. I didn't know what the word meant, and I couldn't seem to judge its connotation from how she was reacting to her own words. Her reaction was too complex for me to decipher and translate into something plausible for my own mind to annotate.
I kept staring at her, wondering if she would let the question go. Asking her what it means might give her hint as to how un-normal I really am. How I'm grotesquely lacking in knowledge of societal interactions considering how I'm not a really part of society itself. Isolated—thats what we, the flock are. By choice.
Isolated?
Fuck. It hit me. What the fuck had I just done? I'm in someone else's home. I might potentially be fucking up everything we, the flock have. Isolation, isolation, what the FUCK IS WRONG WITH ME?! I wracked my head as to how stupid I must be. What was wrong with me, how could I have just walked in here? All night long this human girl has been asking me questions about myself and my life—all of which is a secret to everyone except a top-secret government facility.
How did I let myself sit here this second? How did I get myself into the situation I was in right now? This girl was two inches, one second, away from pulling my shirt off and seeing, feeling, touching my wings.
What the fuck was wrong with me.
And what had we just done? It'd felt good, it'd felt so good, but what the fuck was that all about?
And now shes sitting here, looking like she's one second away from going completely insane if I didn't answer her any sooner. I kept staring at her, but I'm sure by this time my face had betrayed me in the slightest. Or at least, she seemed intelligent and decent enough to have some sort of insight. Fuck. I was screwed. And I killed myself. Why the fuck did I come in here. Its over. She's going to figure out that I don't know a thing about her life in a second. God, I really screwed up.
"...Fang, have you ever had sex before? Were you a virgin?" she asked again loudly, getting off the headboard and leaning forward on the bed, widening her eyes exponentially, her eyebrows up expectantly.
Sex. I'd heard that before. On tv, a lot. On the adult sitcoms, they used that word all the time. It was something they did at night, and sometimes they'd wake up regretting it. Sometimes it'd get them in a lot of trouble. It was how people had kids.
Normally, I mean. I mean, if you weren't cultivated in a pod and grafted with wings.
This was sex? I had just fucking did it ?
That it, that elusive it, they always referred to it as on television.
I'd just had sex.
Gr-eat.
Stupendous.
If this fucking girl has a kid with wings, what the fuck am I supposed to say to her? And if she has a fucking kid, what the fuck am I supposed to do? Do I really want to be one of those guys on tv that ditches and leaves those irritating, annoying, emotional, dumb, self-righteous woman-moms all crappy?
I mean, just watching those daytime television movies makes you feel guilty inside, for absolutely no fucking reason—which is precisely why I hated watching them. Movies that make you feel sad for a non-real character, or mad at a non-real character, or feel anything beyond for yourself is too irritatingly agitating for my liking. Next to the fact that it shouldn't be happening.
Anyway, by just looking at her face, I knew the answer she wanted to hear.
"No," I lied, distinctly.
The tension on her face seemed to melt off, but instead it was replaced by a hint of laughter mixed with confusion. Her left eye twitched as she assessed me, and she seemed to mull something over in her head before she spoke. She looked marginally more laid-back now.
"You're so hot though, you must have had so much more experience than this." she said, with one eyebrow raised, her mouth curving into a skeptical smile.
I didn't respond.
"C'mon, you must be a total hunk at your high school," she continued, nudging the back of my shoulder softly and laughing.
Her delightful smile lit up her face, yet I continued to ignore her. I wasnt even in high school. A part of me.. a part of me, it felt guilty. Didn't I just lie to her? Indirectly, I suppose, but it was still the same thing, since I didn't bother to correct her. What the fuck was I getting myself into?
She leaned back on the headboard, and spread her legs wide, giving me a perfect view of her genital organ, in all its pink, slippery, wet glory. She slithered her hands down to her thighs, watching me carefully, and began to carress the insides of them slowly, lifting her buttocks off of the bed in rhythm, as if the massaging of the insides of her thighs with her own hands were elliciting all of it.
They were, I realized, as I continued to watch, mesmerized. The folds on her vagina seemed to get more and more wet. She had her eyes closed and turned to one side haphazardly, as one of her hands trailed down from the insides of her thigh to lightly brush the side of a fold. She took a breath and continued, her body still moving up and down on the bed.
I felt my penis harden again as I watched her, completely, undeniably, utterly mesmerized. I reached down to touch rub my penis gently as I watched her—it seemed like an open enough environment to do so, obviously.
When I looked back up, I saw her fingers dig into her nether-regions. Leaning closer, I looked a bit more carefully. It had probably been where my penis had gone into, all hard. She brought her fingers in and out, and absentmindedly, I wondered if it would be opportunistic for me to do it again cause I was pretty damn willing at the moment.
Taking her fingers out and bringing them up to aggressively rub against a circular feature sitting on the northern part of her vagina, she brought her other hand up to squeeze her left breast, as a shallow moan released from her mouth.
She started to go faster and faster and her whole body was convulsing on the bed on which we were both sitting, shaking the mattress up and down as her whimpers began to fill the room.
After a moment, she cooled down and relaxed. Leaning even closer, I noticed a trickle of white fluid excrete from her, from the hole that my penis had been in. Her hands lay on her breasts tiredly, and her face was flushed—it looked like what she had just done had been very physically straining, but she seemed to have obviously been enjoying it.
I.. I must not have been able to.. satisfy her. Thats all that I could comprehend from the situation. It was pretty incredible how things came rushing to me so quickly after figuring this out, all those television shows we never watched cause we never understood half of what they were talking about, sort of all made sense now. I was, hah, 'bad in bed', so to speak. I crawled up on the bed completely to hover over her side completely.
She still look completely spent, but I might as well try. She was well aware of my looming presence behind her, but she didn't open my eyes before I bent down and curiously touched the folds on her vagina with my own fingers. My touch was feather-light, and I was lacking in too much knowledge to be confidant, but I just needed to find that area.
"oh!" she exclaimed suddenly, my fingers still probing her core, and thats when I knew I had found it. Keeping my fingers ontop to hold the place, I maneuvered myself closer and in front of her. She watched me with wide, catlike eyes, smiling the slightest bit as her neck followed my form change position.
Without saying a word, I quietly pushed in. My eyes closed as I concentrated on pushing in and out, but the pleasure was an overwhelming distraction, despite the fact that the heavy breaths coming from beneath me were encouraging. I was trying hard not to get too ahead of myself, cause that was obviously where I had messed up before, but it was so hard, when it just felt so good. I started breathing heavily as saturation fell down my back. I really wanted to take that fucking shirt off, but I couldn't.
"Fang.. you feel so good inside of me..," she said, but I ignored her, trying to focus on thrusting.
She writhed beneath me, and I seemed to be doing well. Her knees had come up to hook around my hips, making it easier for me to go in and out—but it wasn't helping me in terms of trying to keep it all in. Every time it felt like I was about to go over and explode, I suddenly stopped in all hopes and efforts to keep it all in. After a moment or two, I'd slowly start again, thrusting at slow and unsteady intervals, but going in really deep (which she seemed to enjoy particularly), and later on I'd naturally catch up speed into a rhythm until I felt like exploding all over again. It'd continue like that, but it was so fucking physically straining. I had to try so hard, it was killing me inside, but it felt so damn good the closer and closer I got.
"Fang.. stop fucking teasing me," Brigid said in a hoarse, breathy voice. My eyes opened as I heard her spoke. She thought I was teasing her? Did she understand how much of a fucking tease I was getting every 2 seconds? How much effort it takes to stop once you get so fucking close?! She didn't know how much she was enjoying this.
Her hand raised up to touch my face. The other was clenched ontop of her breast. The free one was bouncing up and down in time with the rhythm in which I was thrusting my hard member into her.
She was so small, and looked so cramped beneath me. I was thrusting into her, with the headboard of her bed being the medium for keeping her still, so I was pushing her into the back of the board on the bed, surrounded by pillows. I pushed her hand off of my face.
It didn't feel right. I didn't like it. I didn't feel comfortable with her touching in me in that way anymore. I concentrated on thrusting into her.
Opening my eyes and looking at her was a big mistake though. Her flushed face, her smiling eyes and distraught, breathless, divine mouth pushed me over the edge, her breasts swinging up and down tantalizingly and haphazardly. I couldn't keep it in any more and started ramming into her uninhibitedly.
I was the one putting that desperate look on her face, and I was the one making her scream my name so loud. I reveled in that realization as I quietly pushed into her, over and over again, harder and harder each time. And then finally I exploded against her, slumping over her form, spilling everything out. I tried to keep myself up on my elbows after I was completely done, but the quivering was enough to let me know that I shouldn't even bother.
The first groan that came out of my mouth throughout the entirety of the sex released from my mouth as I propelled myself to the side keep from squishing her beneath me. I was breathing heavily and felt like a thousand trucks had run me over—yeah, I felt that tired. Who knew sex could be so rewarding and so frickin tiring at the same time?
But in the end, it had felt so fucking good.
I felt a hand on my chest, and then Brigid softly kissing my neck. Tiredly I reached my hand over to touch her.
"Fang.. you were holding out on me.. I was so scared at first when you'd came in 2 seconds, I thought I'd devirginized some random guy.. I felt like a total slut for a second," she murmured against my neck, half sleepily, "But you're really good..," she continued.
I shrugged off the compliment. To be honest, I felt like sleeping right now as well, but I knew I couldn't. I needed to get back home.
Slut? Now, I finally understood what slut meant. And yeah, she was one. From what I knew about society, sex wasn't something you had with people you just met, unless you were Carrie Bradshaw. No, nevermind, I thought, thinking back to what I'd seen before. Sex was often something that people had frivolously, and it seemed to happen all the time (or at least it was described that way), but it was.. suggested to have it with emotional implications?
What the fuck did that mean?
All I knew was that, this felt good, but it felt wrong, it felt so wrong on so many different levels.
I was doing something.. something unethical, and I knew it.
Brigid was tiredly climbing up from my neck to place kisses on my upper jaw and the side of my lips now. I sighed in the afterglow. It sort of all made sense now.. Sex, the penis hardening, the.. the feeling. The good feeling. Thats why people wanted it so much.
But.. but good people, they abstained, didn't they?
I frowned as I realized there was still alot of stuff that I didn't understand. Amazing how good sex felt, it was amazing that all the hype on tv was.. was just this. Sex? It was sticking your excretory organs together.. thats what it was: the big goddamned secret. They were so goddamned allusive on tv, and they made it impossible to figure out even though it was so simple. It all made sense now, and it was pretty dumb to be so coveted. What was there to really hide?
A thought suddenly struck me, apprehension dawning on my face as it circulated throughout the neurons of my brain.
"Brigid.. you're not gonna get pregnant, are you?" I trailed off, hoping she didn't sense that panic in my voice. No wings.. no wings..
We stopped believing the stork story a while ago. TV made it clear that babies came from sex. Just exactly what sex was.. now I knew. Panic began to rise up within me. I hoped it wouldn't be like the Montel show where she'll try to prove that I'm the negligant father of her baby, or some shit like that. I started to grow, very very very worried. We'd done it twice now. TWO babies? what the fuck, what the fuck, what was I supposed to do?! I was only thirteen, I was only thirteen, it wasn't even proper for me to be having sex, but she obviously didn't understand this. I looked her age, I guess about a high schooler, however old that should be, thats what I looked like and thats what she took me as.
I screwed up, big time.
She looked up sleepily, attention seeming to come back onto her face. She reached over me, and with half-lidded eyes reached over my chest, slumping across the width of the bed to rummage around for something in her bedside table drawer that she hadn't closed before, from when she was bandaging me.
She dazedly pointed at something vague in there, next to the box of bandaids, random miscellaneous earrings, scissors, duct tape. It was the small see-through semi-circulare case full of oval-shaped pills I had noticed earlier when she had been cleaning up my cut.
"I'm on birth control, to like, regulate my period," she murmered serenely, yawning the slightest bit.
Her hands whispering out over my chest played with the rim of my shirt uncomfortably. I shuffled a bit. She couldn't see what was underneath that.
So, I supposed the answer was a no. I don't think its exactly orthodox for someone as young as her to have a child either, evidenced by those tv sitcoms we never watched. And I sure as fuck was sure that it wasn't exactly orthodox for a thirteen year old kid like me to be having sex either.
I'd like to say that, yaknow--we, the flock, aren't pretty orthodox either, but for some reason the implications of this situation seemed to exceed such menial jokes. I don't think this was something to just joke around about. It seemed like pretty goddamned serious, for such frivolous consummation.
There was a still few things that didn't piece out exactly, I thought, furrowing my eyebrows. I still needed to figure some stuff out. I pushed her prying hands off of me and decided she was touching my torso a bit---way too much for my liking.
Leaning over the bed, I grabbed my jeans and tiredly got up to sit on the edge of the mattress and slide socks onto my feet before putting my jeans on. I felt Brigid's eyes watch me. It was already about half past 11, I really needed to go.
"Fang.. can I see you tomorrow?" she asked quietly, looking up at me, conscious of herself.
My pushing her hands off must've been a bit harsh, I realized, especially to a girl who had hypothetically 'given' herself to me. That seemed like it was a big deal, from what I knew. But the act.. what we had just done.. it was just so.. goddamned frivolous. It felt like nothing.
I didn't.. I didn't like it.
All that hype, all that shit, and in the end, this was all that it was. Sex, and it felt so goddamned meaningless.. it felt trivial, and yet its been made to sound like something extraordinary. Some fucking 7th wonder of the world.
No, thats wrong, I realized. It was a wonder, it really was, but.. it was me who was feeling dissatisfied with what had just happened. It was just me, mulling these thoughts over in my head. It felt meaningless, but thats only because I wished it didn't. I didn't expect it to be.. like, this. And try as hard as I was, I couldn't find anything deep in what I had just done. I was.. I was dissapointed in myself, I'd realized. Dissapointed in the hype.
Don't get me wrong; I had liked it alot. I had loved it, it had been great. It had felt fucking awesome. But.. somewhere deep inside, I was unsettled. It was uncomfortable, and it didn't feel right. Maybe it was guilt. It most likely, probably was, because I shouldn't be here in the first place. By having sex with some menial girl, I'm jeopardizing the security and lives of my flock. Maybe thats why I was feeling so unsettled right now. Maybe thats why I wanted to get away from her as fast as possible. I didn't even want to fucking look at her dumb, stupid, face.
Lust. Thats what had caused this. I'd been ruled by lust. It had power for me, it had power over me.
I felt so.. so.. dissapointed in myself. I'm so close to ruining everything for our flock.. and I did it why? Over lust, cause I was ruled by lust.
I hated that, I hated that something or someone ruled me, ruled my actions. Thats what caused me to do this.
But zipping up and buttoning my jeans, I decided I hated this fucking girl. Useless, bitch, hoe, slut. How could I do this?
But I turned around anyway, and waves of guilt smashed against my the lining of my forehead on the inside with the sight I was faced with.
I felt so confused.
There was sudden apprehension and fear written in her eyes. Her small, tiny form, lay on the bed, completely unclothed now. She looked like a child in so many ways. There was no way that this thing was reserved for adults. She looked small and helpless, despite looking so breathtakingly alluring and beautiful, laying there, naked. I can't believe that I had been ramming myself into her just a few minutes ago. She was so small. And she had felt so good. I took pity on her and an incredible urge to wipe that inkling of fear off her face overcame me. I leaned over the bed and fit my hand over her to rub the side of her waist.
"Of course," I reassured her, because I knew that that was what she wanted to hear.
Would I really see her? I didn't know. I needed to figure some things out. I need to sort things out and think all this over.
I was still right about before. I had stepped into the home of someone living outside. I was getting myself into a lot right now, and I had done it with the first step I had taken.
Slowly, silently, I stepped off the rooftop and fell into the air, flying to the bottom of the cliffs where I'd left all the groceries before heading up back up the hills to the E-shaped house.
It was already pretty late, and despite it all, I hoped Max had gone to sleep. She didn't need another reason to lose sleep. She had to learn that I wasn't worth it—that she didn't need to waste time or energy over me, because I didn't need it. She could baby Gazzy, she could baby Iggy or Nudge and Angel, but I—I didn't need that. She had to understand that. She was only hurting herself, and she was hurting me, she was hurting me so much by hurting herself over me. She had to understand and she had to stop.
The house was dark, since we didn't have lights installed into our ceilings. If lights were to show through our windows, our house would be easy prey for helicopters and other people searching for us. Our days begin and end with daylight. However, there was no noise coming from inside, (which was definately not a frequent occurrence), so the flock must probably all asleep by now, I assumed, satisfied.
I opened the front door with a creak and swing, pushing it open with my feet as my arms carried the tumultuously insane amount of grocery bags in. I set most of them up on the kitchen counter and some on the floor next the kitchen table.
I unbagged a few and set the miscellaneous items ontop of the table so that Max could look through them and sort them out, and left some of the bags with solely food items on the table for Iggy to sort through in the morning. Certain bags I put away myself, like the milk and eggs into the fridge. The rest I left on the floor for the flock to look through in the morning.
I hoped Angel would be surprised with the lollipop and Nudge happy with her shirt. Absentmindedly I remembered the hairspray and rummaged around a bit before I found it in one of the bags and swiftly threw it into a random drawer beneath me so that Iggy could find it eventually. We couldn't have Gazzy finding that in the morning while looking through the bags, now could we?
Yawning, I looked around the floor before I decided that I had cleaned and sorted out enough of the necessities, for the rest to be sorted out in the morning and headed to bed.
Washing up in the bathroom and changing my clothes, throwing the ones I had worn today into the hamper, I walked out and immediately bumped into Max. On sight of her, I grew angry. It was already around 1, and she should be in bed by now. Max saw the irritation sitting on my face, ready to explode into a thousand bits but she didn't look guilty in the slightest.
"I was waiting for you to get back and see if you found anything else out," she said, looking up at me. She had gotten really short these days. No. That doesn't really make sense, I realized. I guess I'd been growing a lot, since she looked mad small these days.
"I'll see you on the roof?" she asked questioningly, nodding at my sign of consent before walking away.
It was the perfect night to stay up and talk. The weather was ideal, honey dew from the previous rainstorm lingering in the air, the late spring weather now divine. I had recalled thinking about wanting to talk to Max tonight, but now.. now.. after all this.. I no longer felt like it. But I nodded, nevertheless.
Drying my face with my towel, I headed to my room to throw a shirt on over my head. I was surprised Max hadn't lectured me about not wearing one previously, but she was probably getting used to it. And either way, I was justified, completely under the impression everyone was asleep. (But regardless, I shouldn't do it either way, since its a bad habit, blahblahblah whatever).
Tired and unwilling, I unhinged the bars in front of my window and climbed up on the current to sit on the roof next to Max. It was quiet for a moment, peaceful, before she spoke.
"So what did you find out?" she asked serenely. I put my head into my hands, and thought quietly for a second about how to go about explaining it to her.
Well, I hadn't completely gotten anything through yet anyway. I still had to figure some stuff out.
"Alot," I trailed off. It was vague, but true. Max turned her head to look at me, probably slightly agitated, but I didn't bother to return the glare.
"So..?" she asked impatiently.
Oh, what a shame, I had completely destroyed her previously serene demeanor. The atmosphere was nice, it was so goddamned perfect, and I had to go and be me, though, right? I suck, I know, whatever.
"So." I admonished, nodding slowly. I got up and I swiftly jumped down onto the railings in front of my window. I caught a glimpse of a hurt look on Max's face as I left.
I just always made her hurt.
Bah-ah Humbug.
For those of you who hate the slow pace, I'm having a tiny time skip soon, so say hi to elation.
Sorry for that extra M-frigid stuff. THIS IS NOT GOING TO BE A FANG/BRIGID STORY.
I mean, if I had been planning on doing that, I definately would not have made the story directly say "Fang and Max" up on the toolbar.
IT WILL BE FANG AND MAX.
and Brigid is just a catalyst. Just.. a catalyst.
And this is the last of much Frigid you shall see.
THIS IS DEFINATELY FANG/MAX. PLEASE DONT STOP READING BECAUSE OF THIS SHORT SEGWAY! ITS A CATALYST, for the SAKE of Fax. =((
Ah. These negative reviews are making me feel SAD. =(
Its making me so sad, that I'm putting an ultimatum up. And you know that I'm against this. Its just that I've already explained that she's simply a catalyst and that its still Fang+Max.
Good Luck with that, good luck with that. I write for myself, and I post my chapters up so you guys can enjoy them too. If you guys aren't enjoying them whats the point of posting them up?
Well. Just, well. I'll keep writing on MSword then. It won't really interfere with my life, because afterall, I don't really need people telling me how much they hate something. Its not my loss, because I'm still writing this story. You know, this story is going to be EPIC, so 3 Frigid chapters aren't a big deal next to the rest, but if you guys think that its enough to stop reading/reviewing, well, it makes me sad. It makes me very sad.
Reviews make me happy, because people care enough to encourage. Flames make me giggle, because they care enough to complain.
But when people thrust their own implications unto myself.. that.. just makes me sad. Which is why I'm putting up an ultimatum.
Bye, =(