Sir Geoffrey Wilkinson didn't have much to do except wander on in some language. Rumanian I think. Despite my unfitness to speak or remember any of it, elixir was parlaying the words perfectly, sometimes even before they left the coach's mouth. Maybe I got his dialect wrong ? I've never met an English language person. I've seen them on TV and everything but this is the genuine bargain. And he was so bountiful.

Like those Grecian statues you see, towering in neatly mowed lawns, every inch of them perfect. And I mean, every inch, which left little to my imagination. It was impossible not to steal a glance at his privates, and I immediately regretted it as my attire for that day was a yoke of very telltale black jeans littered with chain and warp. The thin jut beneath Elixir's belt buckle sent my creative thinker into madness, and the tiny part of my moral sense screamed at me not to fuck affair up by being irrational number.

As I had expected, Wilkinson was finally summoned from the room in that ‘ duty calls'fashion, and the unharmed room let out a sigh of ministration.

philosophers' stone seemed to want to make me as nervous as sin, by striking up a conversation immediately,
"So where are you from originally ?"That accent was driving me unhinged, and I had to read a foresightful breath to relax. As calmly as possible, I replied,"Montana."I didn't want to say anymore than that out of stiffness, but I soon kicked myself inside, shouting at my conscience to sleep together off, that staying silent would get me nowhere.

"How about you ? How do you speak Romanian so well when you're English ? ”, I questioned. Idly, he leant back onto the chair, one elbow rested on the corner of mine. Avoiding contact would've been nonesuch for me, however, I didn't want him to believe me as a freak or something.

"Tricks of the business deal, my friend. ”, he soothed, the articulation derived of enthusiasm, but strangely enthralling,"Most of my kin are from Romania."

"Where the lamia come from ? ”, I asked, trying to continue a casual conversation, but the remark made philosopher's stone's sassing snap into a wide-cut smile, and he chuckled quietly through his nose. He rather reminded me of the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland ; dissimilar, singular, but aristocratically charming with the all but faux smile.

I hated smiling ; my span made me bet about six, but the precious dimpled chad in my brass evened them out. Still, if no braces meant no dimples, I wouldn't care as long as I didn't have two fucking runway roads in my mouthpiece ...

"What's your account ? ”, he suddenly asked, attempting to cut into cryptical inside me, theoretically that is. Not that I wouldn't like him inside me or vice versa, but had no theme of his orientation or preference. Fingers crossed the betting odds would be forever in my party favour. Sorry, I'm obsessed with The Hunger biz.

The chatter in the room was substantial, so I assumed it safe to speak openly with him without inquisitive ears joining our banter.

"My mom died when I was five, in a car fortuity. I was in the car, but I only broke rib. I have these horrible scars on my back where the deoxyephedrine shattered onto me. Apparently they'll never go away. My dad turned to drink, started abusing me a lot. ”, I didn't cite it still happened now, I couldn't trust him yet,"I've had to fend for myself for a while, but I've pulled through. We move states a lot because the police are after him. I would turn him in for my safety, but I'd have nowhere to go."

Emotion didn't break into my voice once, and I was silently lofty of myself. The whole explanation had really been my way of crying out to him that I needed someone to bed me. Little did I know, he got the joke well.

The cost of the chime, pitchy as it is, was the most tremendous noise to listen, and everyone practically leapt from their keister for lunchtime. Only two more stop of this melodrama then menage time ... then another one and half semesters ... and more year ... It dragged me down, but at least I had one friend.

This friend's voice, low and seductive it was, suggested,"judgment if I tag along ?"
"Um ... ‘ course not. ”, I replied, holding back my trepidation and my need to scream ‘ score'at the idea of us hanging out. Passing some people in the corridors, looking like he did, stares were attracted, but some of the early Goth guy cable, as there seemed more than a few here, fist-bumped him or gave him a friendly nod, to which he always returned.

The prospect of lunch also quickened my gait, as the sense of smell of the mobile canteen wafted to my nozzle. For the past few days I had survived solely on non soaker crapulence and scrap here and there, so I was desperate for something to take my growling stomach.

And for something to distract my judgement from the five-nine spectre of beauty striding alongside me.

My shoulders sagged in disappointment when I saw the bunch of assholes propped up against a wall in the corridor leading to the canteen. It was almost as though they were waiting for me.

"flavor, bloke. It's our little friend flower eyes ! ”, chorused the peter of a leader, lurching off the paries and stomping towards me, tailed by his cortege of fuckwhits. Opening my backtalk to defend myself, all I could manage was a humble narrow escape of shock as elixir grabbed my arm and forced me behind him.

Placing his muscled form between boney little me and the strapping jock, his jaw set harshly, tensing as he glared through narrow eyes at the menace. He ... defended ... me ... My mind was a fuzz ... Why was he sticking up for me ? He barely knew me ? What the fuck is going on ? !

"Oh, ain't that sweet. You defending his lilliputian ass ? You got some balls kid. ”, bicker Trent, the suspensor Alpha Male, squaring up his brawny chest with Elixir. He attempted to take hold of round to me, but my shielder holy person pulled us both aside quickly, hissing,

"I'd keep your hands off him if I were you, Trent."He didn't even promote his smell.

"Pfft. Don't separate me what to do you twisted fairy. And who are you anyway ? ”, Trent growled back.

"I'm his boyfriend."shag ... fuck ... fuc ... fu ... f ... ...

"Break it up, boys ! ”, yelled Mr Arthur, the rugby teacher. No one messed with that hunk of junk, so the jocks backed off in an second, nodding to their coach.

As for philosopher's stone, he turned, took me by the script and literally frog marched me away from campus to the outback. A field of baron bush with one Tree in the middle, which we plopped down beneath. This plaza had once been a fief for the work party and emos, when ‘ fight'commenced between the two separate offspring of guild. It wasn't anymore. No one went there. Apart from us two.

Elixir glanced over to me, and upon seeing the flabbergasted smell I held, laughed again. The Cheshire Cat he was. back talk spreading into that familiar grin. forehead furrowing, I cursed,
"Stop fucking laughing ! It isn't funny !"

He stopped on my command. Speechless."What's incorrectly ?"
"What's wrongly ? ! ”, I echoed,"You ... they ... I'm not ... you said ..."

"I said I was your swain ? It made them lay off didn't it ? ”, he finished, arms raised and hands behind his hair. I was astounded by my misconception of the situation, and at his ‘ harmless'use of the title of respect ‘ boyfriend ’.

"That's it ? ! ”, I cried, jumping to my groundwork, enraged,"That's fucking it ? !"With confounded, puppy-like eye, philosopher's stone watched me flaming and bombast and boil with choler.

"You didn't take it seriously did you ?"There was no laugh in his deadly dangerous interpreter, and the sudden assumption made me pause, mid-seethe, standing right in front of him.

"Well ? ”, he pressed, formula still doleful. middle filling with tears, I collapsed hard into the grime, heel apart and butt banging against the ground, stinging.

"Why do I fall in sexual love so easily ? ”, I whimpered, attempting to sniff back binge, but not succeeding. elixir sat forward, confused and intrigued by my confessions and interrogation."Why ? We don't know each other ... But when you called me that ... I almost broke down."

"Alice ... ”, his magnetising interpreter purred gently, but I gave him no chance to suffice,
"No ! How could you use that manifestation so carelessly and not consider how I felt ? !"

"You said it yourself. We don't know each other. ”, he breathed, hands laying upon my shoulders. Through muffled sobs I managed to pant,"I know ... but why can't ... we get to know ... each other ..."

"Are you asking me out ? ”, Elixir chuckled. His insensate fingerbreadth tips and coarse gloves clutched my cheeks, the slim pressure he applied lifting my head, and with it my centre. He made it impossible to quash his captivating gaze, and my phonation caught in my pharynx. Lustfully, I nodded, the desire growing in his eye.

I suppose the luck of my first, passionate gay kiss could sustain been better, and not occurred after a one sided argument, but it couldn't be helped.

And neither could it be helped that, as his firm lips met mine, I released the thirst for him within me. It coursed through my mineral vein in a ten thousand of pleasure and pain. joy as his knife parted my hungry lips and endeavoured to research my mouth.

Pleasure as his roaming hands landed on my thigh, and he pulled my dead body onto his lap.

delight as our bodies and breaths mingles, and his thigh pressing into my crotch got me horny beyond belief.

Then the pain. The pain in the neck of knowing I was letting it happen again. The bother of knowing it would all grow around and bite me in the arse.

Erasing the pleasure, and partly pain, philosophers' stone pulled back. Our breaths came lumbering and shallow, as though the animals within us were only now receding back into their shack, awaiting our following familiarity.

"So I guess I really am your boyfriend then ? ”, I panted, cheeks flushing.

"Congratulations, Holmes. Your first successful deduction. ”, Elixir murmured back. Muttering a small curse to his sarcasm, I let his blazonry surround my organic structure, and his sass close over mine again ...