Date: Wed, 5 Apr 2006 14:55:10 -0400
From: mymouthtrain@gmail.com
Subject: Days Before You Came 04

Legal stuff: You ain't old enough, don't read it.  You ain't mature enough,
still don't read it.  You lookin' for a quick wank, look elsewhere.  There
WILL be sex in this story, and it WILL be graphic, but it'll come with
time, so bear with me.

Given to Nifty for archive; if anyone else wants to post this somewhere,
ask first thanks.  Email is mymouthtrain@gmail.com.


Days Before You Came | 04


I learned two things right away in that car with Torin.  One, Josh has
phenomenal taste in music.  Two, Manda is a complete and total bitch.

I should have known this from the start, really, but I'm a little slow
today.  Every word that came out of her mouth was an insult to someone,
even herself-- though I doubt she realized that.  Her laugh was loud and
braying, and any sort of attractiveness she might have had was completely
eradicated the moment she opened her mouth.  As we drove along, I
fantasized about stabbing her in the neck with one of those plastic forks
we're forced to use in the school cafeteria.

Josh, however, was Manda's perfect antithesis.  During the car ride he said
next to nothing, barring a brief "watch your feet" as he slid his seat
back.  His music selection, as stated before, was astounding.  We jammed to
Zeppelin's Houses of the Holy the whole way... wherever.

I still had no idea where we were going.  Looking at the street signs as we
passed just made it more obvious that I still had a lot of the town to
learn about.  Torin wasn't any help, either, after introducing himself
(pointless, I already knew his name) and shaking my hand (very limp, almost
bored grip) he hadn't said much at all.  Most of the silence was taken up
by Manda attempting to chatter above Robert Plant's voice, which I think is
a difficult task indeed.  She passed with flying colors.

Josh eventually turned his obscenely expensive car into a parking garage
somewhere downtown, and when we got out and I asked where we were, Manda
said we had arrived at her house.

Her 'house' turned out to be a three-bedroom condominium on the eleventh
floor of a fairly new high rise.  The place was small but utterly posh, and
the south-facing wall was constructed purely of glass paneling.  It was
stunning, but empty, like a painting with no emotion.  There just wasn't
anything that would stick with you.

A hand on my lower back had me looking up in alarm, and Josh's green eyes
were smiling, even if his mouth was not, as he asked, "Want something to
drink, Noah?"

- - -

Four hours later, and I was wondering vaguely what time it was, and if it
was, indeed, a Wednesday.  These kids partied like it was Friday, and by
this time I had so many illicit substances running through my veins that
everything was either grossly profound, or increasingly funny.  Under the
influence, Manda's actually interesting, and I found myself engaged in more
than a few highly entertaining conversations with her.  They went mostly
like this:

"So the second law of thermodynamics states that entropy can never
decrease.  It's impossible."

"My leg warmers keep me really, really warm."

"See?  It's wrong!  I knew you'd understand."

Eventually, despite forming an airtight bond with Manda over Smirnoff Apple
Twists, I found myself in a bedroom with Torin.  At least, I was fairly
sure it was a bedroom-- there was a bed in it, at the very least.  There
were also office chairs and what looked like a dance floor.  Eh, we'll
still call it a bedroom, just for very kinky... ah, bedroomers.

I tripped on something invisible and laughed when I fell onto the bed,
Torin's hand in mine guiding me the entire way.  I fell on my side and
looked up at him, really studying him for the first time.  Grey eyes, like
limestone in winter, so pale they looked colorless.  They were trained on
me and suddenly, I couldn't look away to save myself.  Any sort of virtue I
might have had was quickly going down the drain at this point.  He sat next
to me on the bed and hovered, and I practically draped myself across the
bed for him, on display.  I probably looked very stupid, but I felt
incredibly turned on, watching him watch me like he was.  Like he was
trying to figure something out.  My mouth parted, and I licked my lower
lip.  My breathing became labored as I watched him do the same thing.

'Kiss me," I willed at him, and his face lowered close to mine.  Loomed
large and in front of me.  He smelled like mints because he had one in his
mouth, and for someone who had been partying for the better part of an
afternoon, he looked surprisingly composed.

Suddenly his hands were planted on either side of my head, and he looked as
if he was doing a push-up over me.  I was completely aroused, but stuck
where I was.  I couldn't touch him, no matter how bad I wanted to.  My arms
seemed glued to the bed.

He leaned down, our faces so close we could have kissed, before sitting
back up and murmuring something.

"What?" I asked through the thick, dense fog in my head.  I sat up as well,
not nearly with the grace Torin had, and blinked at him, confused.  Wasn't
he about to kiss me?

"I said I'm sorry."  I heard him crystal clear this time.

He was facing away from me, and had his arms resting casually on his bent
knees which were pulled up to his chest.  I scooted as close to him as I
could stand it, and tilted my head at him.  He answered the unspoken
question.  "Yeah, I'm gay."

"Okay," I said slowly, shaking my head.  "Why apologize for that?"

Torin laughed, a sharp, bitter sound that surprised the both of us.  "I
wasn't apologizing for being gay, I was saying sorry for testing you like
that.  It wasn't something I should have done, and I realize that now.  But
it's all good now, though," he raised his gaze from his feet to look up at
me, "'cause now I know."

"Um..." Today was not one of my better days.  "What do you know?  I'm
sorry, I'm not getting it."

The faintest smile spread across his face, and his eyes dropped from mine.
"That we would never work.  There's no chemistry."

Okay, uh, what?  Had we been a part of the same moment, because what I had
experienced had been full of chemistry, the kind of chemistry that would
have gotten me pregnant had I the proper plumbing.  Obviously, he hadn't
felt it, and now I was left sitting there feeling really dumb, and a little
bit pissed off.  Being buzzed and angry didn't go too well together.

"Well, what the fuck?"  My mouth was running away from me.  "You're gay,
you think I'm gay and what, you instantly think those two factors alone
would have us jumping into bed with one another?  Fuck you, you asshole!"
I got up and stumbled over everything, and ended up on the floor at Torin's
feet.  Black, scuffed boots, frayed jeans.  Cream carpet.  That was all I
could see.  Torin, to his credit, had gotten up to steady me, but I had
fallen out of his grasp and now he stood, looming, in front of me.  I tried
to scramble away from him, but he caught my arms easily and held me still.
I forced my chin up at a painful angle to glare at him, but the look on his
face as his fingertips bruised the softer skin underneath my arms had my
mind switching to something more primal.

I reached up and grabbed a handful of his jeans, my fingers slipping into a
rip in them, and I pulled my way up his body until I was kneeling before
him.  His crotch was right in front of me, and without much thought, I
turned my head and rubbed my cheek against it.  I could feel something
inside jump in response, just as Torin's hand came to bury itself in my
hair.


- - --|to be continued. Thanks for the response.|-- - -