Date: Mon, 11 Mar 2024 00:35:48 +0000 From: Oliver Readings Subject: Boy on a Mission- chapter 9 This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental. If this sort of material offends you in any way or if you are a minor, please leave now. As always, feel free to send me feedback at olliereadingsw@gmail.com! Also, do send donations to https://donate.nifty.org if you can, to keep Nifty alive and running. -I'll be taking a short break to focus on work, but I'll be back with more chapters soon. Until then, happy reading and thank you for all the feedback and support! It means a lot.- Boy on a Mission Chapter 9 In my eighteen--almost nineteen--years of being alive, I've never been romantically or sexually rejected. I was always the one to do the rejecting and I've gotten used to it. It's like second nature to me now when I'm not interested in a guy. Most of the time, the really kind ones, they're super chill about it, but those who didn't belong to the `kind' category didn't handle rejection quite well. I always hated those guys, like, I could never understand their desperation. So, imagine how shocked I was at myself upon registering in my mind that I was acting like the boys I hated. Oh, how far I've fallen. I guess it's time for me to go back home and put on my clown outfit, because that's what I am: a clown. In spite of my thoughts, I genuinely believed that my actions were justifiable because look at Mr. Hart! How could you not be obsessed? He's a grade A man through and through, and I just needed to have him. I guess I'm as much of a hypocrite as Mr. Hart is...or am I? `Please say something, Mr. Hart.' His gaze remained on his hands as he sighed, but no words came out of his mouth. With each passing second, I grew even more tense. What kept me going was the fact that I believed that good things come to those who wait, whether it be in the form I initially want it to or not. As long as it's something great and what-I-want adjacent, I'm good. `Mr. Hart, please...' `What do you want me to say, Archie?' he muttered without looking up at me. `Anything,' I said. `I just don't want you to hate me. To think that I'm disgusting.' He shook his head, `I'd never think that.' Mr. Hart lifted his head so I could see his weary and worried expression. Our gazes met and I felt my face mirroring his. `I'd never hate you, Archie.' My heart thumped in my chest. Even in moments like this, he was able to make my heart flutter in excitement rather than anxiety. Well, a mix of both, really, but who cares when the former's effect is stronger than the latter's? Rubbing his neck again, he sighed, `This is wrong, Archie. You've gotta see that.' `But--.' `No buts, Archie,' he interjected. `I'm your Dad's friend, and like I said before, you're way too young.' Fortunately, he wasn't yelling at me and he didn't look angry at all, which is great compared to last time. That was rough. I did notice how he never mentioned anything about me being a dude, however, which is, to some degree, comforting. It's obvious how I shouldn't really push my luck, but I had to do something. I wasn't going to give up so easily. `So, me being a guy isn't an issue?' I asked. `That's not the point, Archier.' `Answer the question, Mr. Hart, please.' He shook his head. That's it. No explanation, no anger, nothing. Feeling bold, I returned my hand to his knee gently and muttered, `I just like you, Mr. Hart. Is that really so wrong?' No response. I waited and held out hope. I needed to. Then, he shook his head. `It's not wrong that you like me, Archie, but it's wrong to act on...this.' `Why are you so afraid?' I asked. My tone was gentle and genuine, not condescending in the slightest. `I'm not afraid, Archie.' `Then, be honest with me right now,' I said. `Do you feel anything at all towards me?' He paused and I noticed his Adam's apple bob upon hearing my question. We're getting somewhere now. `It doesn't matter what I feel,' he averted his gaze again. `A simple yes or no, Mr. Hart.' I expected a pause, a sigh, a click of the tongue, but instead, I received an immediate answer, and honestly, I did not expect it at all. `What would you do if I said yes?' Mr. Hart's eyes were screwed shut and I could tell that he was having an internal battle. I needed him to listen to his heart, and to be honest, his mind as well because I'm absolutely sure that those two things are telling him to proceed, consequences be damned. `I'd be happy, for one,' I said with a smile. `Mr. Hart, you're already miserable with everything that's going on back home,' I added. `Why not just indulge in your wants and needs? It's not really cheating, right? You did say that Alicia's also kinda having an affair.' I sound like an absolute homewrecker, but am I really a homewrecker when the home has already been wrecked prior to my interference? Upping the bold factor, I leaned in slowly but surely, and thankfully, Mr. Hart didn't push me away, or even flinch, really. Good. `Just let go, Mr. Hart,' I murmured. `With me.' His breath hitched but he didn't pull away. His eyes remained on his fists and I could practically see the wheels in his head turning as if he was trying to conjure up a concrete excuse as to why I shouldn't--why HE shouldn't. Leaning in closer and closer, I could feel and hear my own heartbeat thumping. The closer I got to him, the hotter I got despite the cold temperature. Mr. Hart's scent was intoxicating to a point where I truly had to hold myself back from being to impulsive with my actions, which sounds fucking ridiculous considering how redundant that is in this situation. I slid my hand up his arm slowly and felt him shiver as I did, but again, he didn't move away from me. `I promise I can make you feel good,' I whispered. `Archie...' His voice was soft and breathy. His eyes were no longer shut but slightly open as he mustered the strength to look at me. My thumb made a circular motion on his bicep as I inched closer to his face. My lips were only a breath away from his. One slight move would make them touch, but I didn't want to lose this momentum. This--Everything must be perfect. I wasn't going to accept anything less. `Don't you want me?' Closer. `Don't you like me, Mr. Hart?' My breath tickled his neck and he shivered once more before allowing his gaze to land on me. His eyes were focused, yet unfocused at the same time. It was as if he was in a trance, charmed by the ongoings of the scenario. Charmed by me. `Whatever you want me to do,' I whispered closely, `I can do it, sir.' I kissed his neck slowly and repeated the motion within the same area. Slow and soft kisses peppered his skin and he even started to groan after a while. He seemed to have relaxed, but I had my work cut out for me. I wasn't going to go all out in the next step. No, that would be idiotic. `Archie, don't...' I ignored him by continuing my series of kisses, moving up to his jaw, which he gave me access to. `Then stop me, Mr. Hart.' Of course, he didn't. He couldn't. As I kissed his neck and jaw, inhaling his intoxicating musky scent, I brought my hand to his cheek and caressed it gently, and as I did, I could feel his body growing less tense with every kiss and touch. But then, his hand grasped my wrist. I halted my kisses but remained where I was, slowly facing him. I wasn't going to allow him to scare me out of accomplishing my goal. Not now, not ever. His gaze was intense, as was mine, but I saw no hostility. I couldn't quite get a read on it, surprisingly, but as I said, there would be no backing down on my part. That had become a void option since the onsen incident. There's no choice but to push further at this point. `Are you mad at me, Mr. Hart?' I said, quietly. His breathing had become extra labored. He didn't say anything. Instead, he leaned forward. And just like that, his lips were on mine. And I've never felt more victorious. To be continued...