Wilkinson didn't have much to do except ramble on in some language. Romanian I think. Despite my unfitness to speak or remember any of it, philosopher's stone was parlaying the words perfectly, sometimes even before they left the tutor's mouth. Maybe I got his speech pattern wrong ? I've never met an English somebody. I've seen them on TV and everything but this is the real trade. And he was so handsome.

Like those Greek statues you see, towering in neatly mowed lawns, every column inch of them perfect. And I mean, every inch, which left little to my imaging. It was unimaginable not to steal a glimpse at his crotch, and I immediately regretted it as my garb for that day was a span of very revealing Black person jeans littered with chain and buckles. The slim prominence beneath elixir's belt warp sent my judgment into rabies, and the tiny voice of my conscience screamed at me not to fuck things up by being irrational.

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

Elixir seemed to want to make me as unquiet as sin, by striking up a conversation immediately,
"So where are you from originally ?"That accent was driving me screwball, and I had to take a long breathing spell to loosen up. As calmly as potential, I replied,"Montana."I didn't want to say anymore than that out of nuisance value, but I soon kicked myself inside, shouting at my conscience to fuck off, that staying silent would get me nowhere.

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

"whoremonger of the trade, my friend. ”, he soothed, the vocalization derived of ebullience, but strangely enchant,"most of my family are from Romania."

"Where the lamia come from ? ”, I asked, trying to continue a casual conversation, but the commentary made Elixir's lips crack into a wide smiling, and he chuckled quietly through his nose. He rather reminded me of the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland ; different, rummy, but aristocratically charming with the all but simulated grinning.

I hated smiling ; my twain made me look about six, but the cunning dimples in my cheeks evened them out. Still, if no braces meant no dimples, I wouldn't care as long as I didn't have two fucking rail roads in my oral cavity ...

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

The chatter in the room was substantial, so I assumed it safe to talk openly with him without wondering spike joining our banter.

"My mom died when I was five, in a car stroke. I was in the car, but I only broke rib. I have these ugly scars on my rear where the glass shattered onto me. Apparently they'll never go away. My dad turned to drink in, started abusing me a lot. ”, I didn't quotation 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 gallant of myself. The whole explanation had really been my way of crying out to him that I needed someone to have sex me. piffling did I know, he got the jest well.

The toll of the Vanessa Bell, pitchy as it is, was the most wondrous randomness to learn, and everyone practically leapt from their rear end for lunchtime. Only two More periods of this melodrama then home time ... then another one and half semesters ... and more years ... It dragged me down, but at least I had one friend.

This admirer's voice, low and seductive it was, suggested,"Mind if I tag along ?"
"Um ... ‘ course not. ”, I replied, holding back my trepidation and my need to shout ‘ score'at the melodic theme of us hanging out. Passing some hoi polloi in the corridors, looking like he did, stares were attracted, but some of the other Goth guys, as there seemed more than a few here, fist-bumped him or gave him a well-disposed nod, to which he always returned.

The aspect of lunch also quickened my pace, as the odour of the canteen wafted to my nose. For the past few days I had survived solely on non soaker deglutition and refuse here and there, so I was do-or-die for something to fill my growling belly.

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

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

"Look, fellas. It's our picayune friend flower eyes ! ”, chorused the prick of a leader, lurching off the wall and stomping towards me, tailed by his retinue of fuckwhits. Opening my backtalk to defend myself, all I could manage was a small squeak of shock as Elixir grabbed my arm and forced me behind him.

Placing his muscled form between scrawny niggling me and the strapping jock, his jaw set harshly, tensing as he glared through narrow eye 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 little ass ? You got some lump kid. ”, skewer Trent, the jock Alpha Male, squaring up his brawny chest with Elixir. He attempted to grab turn to me, but my guardian holy man pulled us both aside quickly, hissing,

"I'd hold back your hands off him if I were you, Trent."He didn't even raise his tone.

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

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

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

As for Elixir, he turned, took me by the handwriting and literally frog marched me away from campus to the outback. A field of king scouring with one tree in the middle, which we plopped down beneath. This place had once been a feoff for the ring and emos, when ‘ battle'commenced between the two fork progeny of society. It wasn't anymore. No one went there. Apart from us two.

philosophers' stone glanced over to me, and upon seeing the flabbergasted looking at I held, laughed again. The Cheshire Cat he was. Mouth spreading into that intimate smile. Brow furrowing, I cursed,
"check fucking laughing ! It isn't funny !"

He stopped on my mastery. Speechless."What's awry ?"
"What's incorrect ? ! ”, 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, implements of war raised and hired man behind his hair. I was astounded by my misconception of the berth, and at his ‘ harmless'use of the deed ‘ swain ’.

"That's it ? ! ”, I cried, jumping to my feet, enraged,"That's fucking it ? !"With confused, puppy-like centre, Elixir watched me flame and ranting and boiling point with anger.

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

"fountainhead ? ”, he pressed, formulation still mournful. Eyes filling with tears, I collapsed hard into the stain, heel apart and bunt banging against the reason, stinging.

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

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

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

"Are you asking me out ? ”, Elixir chuckled. His coldness finger's breadth tip and uncouth gloves clutched my brass, the slight pressure he applied lifting my mind, and with it my eyes. He made it inconceivable to avoid his captivating gaze, and my voice caught in my throat. Lustfully, I nodded, the desire growing in his optic.

I suppose the consideration of my kickoff, passionate gay osculation could have been better, and not occurred after a one sided controversy, but it couldn't be helped.

And neither could it be helped that, as his business firm lips met mine, I released the hungriness for him within me. It coursed through my veins in a myriad of pleasance and infliction. Pleasure as his tongue parted my thirsty sass and endeavoured to explore my mouth.

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

Pleasure as our bodies and intimation mingles, and his second joint pressing into my crotch got me horny beyond belief.

Then the infliction. The pain of knowing I was letting it chance again. The pain in the ass of knowing it would all sprain around and bite me in the arse.

Erasing the pleasure, and partly nuisance, elixir pulled back. Our breaths came heavy and shallow, as though the animals within us were only now receding back into their hut, awaiting our adjacent acquaintanceship.

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

"Congratulations, Oliver Wendell Holmes. Your first successful deduction. ”, Elixir murmured back. Muttering a pocket-size curse to his sarcasm, I let his sleeve surround my body, and his lips close over mine again ...