Note: Sorry, I was unable to write during the week, but at least I'm keeping my promise of a week end update ^^
Now things will begin to happen, it's only beginning in this chapter!

Mello
The passenger's window slid down and I saw Mail bent over the passenger's seat, looking at me.
"Hey, I'm sorry, it's quite late and I didn't even ask you if you needed a drive home, I went away a bit fast..."
I stopped walking, and looked at him with disbelief. What was that attention for? I mean, he, Mister Homophobe himself, cared for a gay eventually being late home? I was actually speechless, wondering if that was a trick he was playing to me, or if he was sincere.
My luck, he was sincere. His eyes told me so. He had that look, the one that made me melt two times already, the first time I saw him in the amphitheatre and the second time was when he had called me for the first time by my real name.

So I melted again, totally aware that it would always be this way each time he would have that particular look. I didn't want it, but I was helpless. Fuck it.

He opened the passenger's door as he saw me hesitate, and I found myself sat in the Camaro although I wasn't late at all. I hated the way I felt. It was like if I was changing at his contact, unable to be coherent under his gaze. So I did what was necessary to put things back into place.
"I'm not late but since you're offering me a drive, I won't refuse." I winked at him while I slammed the door shut.
Like I expected, it set him off and his soft look turned into one of indignation. He then sighed and went back on the road. "I guess you can never stop being an asshole."
I would have literally killed him when he stood (well, sat...) if it wasn't for the light smirk that tugged at the corner of his mouth as he glanced briefly at me. I laughed out loud, I guess it was true, after all. I was sitting in his car knowing he was already late and making him even more late although I didn't need the drive.

He kept on driving, and curiously, the silence that had settled between us, apart the sound of the motor, wasn't uncomfortable. The question about the sudden attention was bugging me though, but it wouldn't have been subtle to ask about it directly. The fact he was driving faster and faster just comforted me in the idea that he had important things to do (or strict parents?) so I took that as a way to beat around the bush.

"You're gonna get us killed if you keep on driving like if you were in Gran Turismo."
But unfortunately, my remark didn't bring the expected conversation, it took a totally different way.
"You know that game?" he asked, looking at me.
"Watch the road please, I don't plan to die now." I reminded him that he was actually supposed to look at where he was going, "Yeah, I know that game."
"I'd never would have guessed you'd be the kind to play video games actually." Was that an insult? I probably looked a bit on the defensive side, "I mean, you look more like the sportive kind."
"Are games and sports incompatible?" I wouldn't know, I only knew some games by name, I didn't like video games that much.
"I guess so..." he shrugged, but the light in his eyes told me the subject was something he was keen on.
"I don't really like games actually, but I suspect you do?"
He turned to stare at me (fortunately we were stopping at a red light) and the light in his eyes turned to a bright glow. Hit.
"Actually I only can play the games I can illegally download and play on my computer, but I really like it, I hope I can get a real console someday." Then he seemed to tick about what I said, "How do you suspect I do like games? It's not written all over my face, as far as I know." He was the one being defensive now.
"Well, besides the fact you're quite lanky..." I began under his seething expression, and stopped, just so it would set him off a little more.
After a few seconds I added: "Okaaaaay, it's just because you looked interested by the topic, don't take it so bad!" because as strange as it was, we were having the closest thing to a real conversation for once and I didn't want to ruin it. YES I liked it. Period.
"I thought you were finding me sexy." he pouted, but quickly he couldn't hide his smile anymore and the fake pout turned to a sticking tongue. It was hard not to attack this tongue with my own.
"I do." I replied, trying my best to look dead serious, and I squeezed his tigh. To my surprise, he slapped my hand with his palm, but more like a mother slaps her kid's hand when he touches something not allowed.

Matt
His hand on my thigh. It just... I don't know, I just slapped it like I would have smashed a mosquito from my leg. I felt more like 'Warning, forbidden area' than being horrified or shocked. Somehow I almost expected he would do something like that, I had to admit I had brought this with what I said.

I knew he was crushing on me, it was as obvious as a nose in the middle of a face, and I wasn't probably helping him get over me (because he had to, he really had to, since it was hopeless) but fuck, it was his problem, and after all, it wasn't really different than Layla, it wasn't because they had a crush on me that I had to feel guilty.

"You're not running away this time, am I making progress?" he said with a mischievous smile, and this time I really felt like running away (or throw him out since we were in MY car). It was further than I could take the joke.
"Take it easy... God you're so fucking stressed about that topic that it's not even funny, I'm joking, JOKING, okay?" he raised his hand in a helpless way, "If I had really done something to get my way with you, believe me, you'd have a sore ass by now already." He sighed and leant against the passenger's door, "and this last part wasn't a joke."

"Oh yeah? So what? You'd have raped me?" I almost strangled myself at his last statement. The idea of him taking... aaack... doing whatever gays do, to me, made me shudder.
"I wouldn't need to." he said flatly.

My kind of relief for being able to hold a real conversation with him for once just got ruined, in these last few seconds. The tone was quickly growing into one of argument.

"I didn't know you had the superpower of turning hetero guys to gays." I replied as flatly as he did. But unfortunately, this brought to my mind an image that had me laughing out loud all of a sudden.
"What?" he snapped, indignated.
"I just imagined you wearing a Superman's costume with briefs above your pants and all." I choked out, still laughing.
"See, I'm turning you on." he was refraining himself but I knew he wanted to laugh too.
"You wish."
"I will."
"No way."
He became dead serious in an instant.
"I will." he whispered in a dangerous tone that sent shivers through my spine, and left my car as the light turned green again. I don't know, but I think I'm starting to dread our next encounter, and unfortunately, it's tomorrow... Damn fence.

The next day was pretty eventless, since I was specialising in technology and computing and Mihael had, for what I knew, chosen literature. It seemed we would only meet for our respective optional course, since mine was literature and his was computing. It was fine with me since I didn't really want to know how he would turn me on. I mean, try to... I was feeling nausea at this sole idea. That meant so much and so few at the same time. He would probably be all over me, tease me, make sexual jokes, I didn't know what to expect. Bleh.
I realised all of a sudden, in the middle of programming, that I had no literature class today, and somehow I felt relieved.
But I still had to meet him at the fence, since we weren't over cutting it. Shit.

He was already at work when I arrived breathless on the basket ball playground. I was late since we were supposed to be there around 5pm, but I had met Annie as I was exiting the toilets of the amphitheatre and she had felt a sudden urge to push me back in and lock us together in a booth. It was... hot. She sucked me off, swallowed it all, and kissed me. Then she just left with a wink. Damn, she really was a slut.
And I don't know what went through my mind, but tasting myself on her lips brought the weirdest of thoughts to me: Wasn't it a bit gay to taste cum? Even if it was my own? Stupid thoughts. I shook them out of my head.

We barely greeted each other before I grabbed scissors and moved away, and resumed cutting the fence where I had stopped the previous day. I kept on glancing at him nervously in the distance, wondering if he had something planned for me, but he ignored me all along.
Little by little, we came closer to each other as our work progressed, until we had almost finished doing the whole contour of the playground. It became impossible to cut side to side since we were too close so he threw the scissors he was holding on the floor, letting me finish the job, and opened his water bottle. He drank slowly, and this time he was looking at me. He knew I was thirsty, but he didn't offer any water to me.
His look was indescribable. I was a bit scared, actually.

And I was right to be.
I saw him let some water run along his chin on purpose, that he wiped away with the back of his hand, then he poured some water in the palm of his hand, and dampened his nape. Then he let his hand run from his nape to the front of his neck, and I could see drops run on his chest and disappear in his vest.
I was hotter than the weather usually made me. I was uncomfortable, disturbed, annoyed, disgusted, scared... all mixed emotions telling me I didn't want to see him do this, but for some reason, I stared. Maybe when you're exposed to fire, you get insensitive to it after a while?

Then only he handed me his bottle, but I was unable to drink. I had a lump in my throat, and I didn't want to drink that water, it was just... aaack!
So I stood there, bottle in hand, as he picked up his scissors again and finished cutting the fence.
I don't know how long I stood there with the bottle, but at some point I may have looked utterly stupid because he smirked at me, and chuckled.

I was pretty sure it was only the beginning of what he had planned. It wouldn't work, but it was putting me in a pretty bad situation: I was the target of a psycho gay that, I was sure of that, would stop at nothing, even if he didn't have a chance with me. Which would make things last forever, and forever was long, very long...

I was stirred from my thoughts by a loud cry and the sound of metal hitting the ground. I turned around quickly, startled, to meet the sight of Mihael holding his right wrist with his left hand, blood flooding between his fingers in a manner that told me it was not just a little cut. I let the bottle fall to the ground and ran to him.
I glanced at his wrist and decided to call the emergencies instead of dragging him to the sick bay of the university. It was serious, considering the blood that was pooling on the ground, pouring so quickly from the wound that I was beginning to feel sick.
I dialed quickly and after a few seconds, I got the confirmation someone would come for us.

I tried to see how deep the cut was. It was horrible. I was not a sissy but he had slashed his wrist to the bone.
"Hold on, the emergencies' gonna be there soon." I tried to talk to him as he began to leave the field.
"I don't need an ambulance, it's just a cut damnit!" he replied, angry (why? I wouldn't know, I was only trying to help, and he didn't seem to realise how serious his wound was).
"Wait! You're losing way too much blood!" I was alarmed. There was blood on the ground all along the way he was taking to reach the campus. I ran to catch up with him, and only had time to refrain his fall, grabbing him by his middle, as his legs gave up.