The Preposition Series
E.E Grey
Smashwords Edition
Text copyright 2011 by E.E.
Grey
Cover copyright 2011 by E.E Grey
All rights
reserved.
Published in the United States.
This is a work of
fiction. Any similarity or likeness to any events or persons living
or dead is purely coincidental
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I.
Under The Gun
Parker closes his eyes, the slats of sunlight falling through the bleachers and onto his face. A warm breeze swirls around him and he doesn’t think about the dirt or the insects or that it’s after school hours and campus is closed. He doesn’t think about it because Cole is on his knees in front of him, rough hands holding his hips still, fingers pressing bruises into his skin.
He doesn’t think about anything except the way Cole’s tongue, so talented in so many ways, is licking up the underside of his cock, a sharp, cold flick of metal as his lip ring follows.
The afternoon passes on around them, slow and warm, summer just around the corner. They’ll have all summer to do this, and Parker looks forward to it. At the moment, though, they don’t have much time. There are still people around: teachers who haven’t gone home yet, security guards who do little more than strut around campus giving out tardy slips.
“Oh, shit, Cole,” Parker gasps, hand reaching for Cole’s shoulder, broad beneath his fingertips. His eyes open, flicking down to the top of Cole’s head, to his roughly-cut black hair, shorter on the sides, hanging into his eyes in the front. Cole is everything his parents hate and everything Parker wants.
Cole’s mouth slides over Parker’s cock, swallowing him down as far as he can go, eyes flashing up to meet Parker’s. There’s a glitter in the hazel irises, something that tells Parker he’s in for a ride. His chest seems to seize up at the thought, excitement coursing through his veins.
Cole’s tongue glides over the ridges of Parker’s prick, and Parker sucks in a breath, wishing there was something to lean against, but he’s standing underneath the bleachers, shoes gathering dust, amidst the scattered empty soda cans and candy wrappers from long-forgotten games.
Cole’s hands have a hold of him, though, holding him steady as he sucks, running his tongue over the head, humming lightly. Parker’s eyes close again but not for long.
Cole pulls away, wet and sticky with spit, pushing Parker’s legs further apart – a feat considering his jeans are still bunched awkwardly around his ankles. He wedges a knee between Parker’s feet, bracing Parker as he leans in, biting at his inner thigh.
The positioning is awkward, but Parker bites his bottom lip, feeling the flush in his cheeks, pink to match his shirt. His light brown hair flutters in the wind, sticking up in the back, as he looks down.
Cole’s mouth is closed around his thigh, sucking hard, and Parker can feel the blood thudding in his cock. Cole’s always been a biter, and Parker’s not surprised when nips at the skin, mouth sliding back towards his prick, back to where Parker is silently begging him to return.
Cole pauses, though, contemplating the way Parker’s hips angle towards him, flushed cock at the ready, still glistening with his saliva. He pulls his lip ring into his mouth, chewing on the lip, flicking the little metal ball.
“You know what I like about you?” Cole asks after a second, and Parker’s eyebrows knit together slightly. There’ll be time for talking later.
“Hm?” he asks, mind going fuzzy as Cole licks a finger and slides it up his thigh, a cool trail when the breeze hits it.
Cole leans back into his thigh, moving above the purple mark already decorating the skin.
“That I can suck you off anywhere,” he murmurs, scratching his fingernail against Parker’s skin, listening for the gasp that comes. “And you never say no.”
Parker tries to breathe normally, but Cole’s finger slides back, grazing over his balls, back to his ass. Cole’s breath is hot against his skin, nose brushing against his cock as he leans in. Cole pauses to lick the head slowly.
“You’d fucking let me suck you off in the middle of class, wouldn’t you?” Cole asks smugly. “Like a little whore.”
Parker groans, feeling Cole’s fingers stroke over his backside. His mouth hovers over his cock, open, almost like he’s asking Parker to do it, to fuck his mouth, but Cole doesn’t ask for things.
“And you’d let me fuck you too, huh?” Cole says, and a finger slips, pushes in.
Parker’s hips jerk forward at the unexpected intrusion, Cole’s finger pressing in through the muscles, dry, no lubrication. A thrill runs up his spine, and he’s lost, forgotten what Cole said seconds ago. The flush is on his shoulders now too, his neck, covering the freckles on his cheeks.
“You’d let me take you until you were fucking begging for it,” Cole goes on, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the side of Parker’s cock, licking down the length as Parker’s legs tremble and he lets slip a whimper.
A second finger slips in with the first, and Parker takes a sharp breath, panting when Cole’s fingers move, working their way in and out, searching for the right spot, the one that’ll have his toes curling, meaningless words tumbling out of his mouth.
Cole glances up, a smirk curling the corner of his mouth, sunlight glinting off his piercing. Parker meets his eyes, exhaling slowly, but he gasps a second later when Cole’s fingers find that place inside him. He stumbles back a step, but Cole’s free hand grabs his hips, pulling him up steady, unrelenting as he finger-fucks Parker slowly, drawing out a helpless moan.
“Yeah,” Cole mutters, nipping at Parker’s hip bone. There are too many bruises littering his hips and thighs already, and it’s really a good thing they’re easily hidden from the amount he tends to get. “Yeah, you fucking love this, don’t you? You jerk off thinking about me, don’t you? Like a pretty little whore, fuck yeah. Tell me, Parker. Tell me you fucking want it.”
“Yes,” Parker gasps. “Yes, fuck, Cole, please, yes, I want it.”
Cole’s mouth is back, sucking on his cock hard, hot and wet, a pressure too much for Parker as he bites his bottom lip, fingers digging into Cole’s shoulder as he gasps. The knot in his stomach twists, just like Cole’s fingers inside him.
He comes in Cole’s mouth, a pressure bursting inside him, legs shaking. His hair sticks to the light sheen of sweat on his brow and he pants for breath, glancing down.
Cole’s lips, full and pink, pull away from his cock slowly, tongue sweeping over his bottom lip, and Parker watches him swallow, mirroring the action. Parker blinks when Cole smirks up at him, still on his knees.
Parker isn’t expecting Cole to jerk him down by the collar of his shirt, and he falls to the hard ground, scraping his elbow, and Cole pushes him onto his back.
“Ow,” he says, rubbing his elbow, but Cole just smirks, climbing on top of him.
“I think we should test my theories,” he says, eyeing Parker interestedly.
“What theories,” Parker replies, and he knows he’s said the right thing when Cole kisses him hard, teeth scraping against his lip, tongue pushing against his, fingers curling into his hair.
“Exactly,” Cole murmurs seconds later, and goes to leave a much more visible bite mark this time.
II.
In The Stacks
Parker’s pencil taps against the notebook, the one covered with doodles instead of notes as the teacher drones on about the Hundred Years’ War. His eyes rest on the clock over the door, the way it ticks slower and slower as three o’clock nears.
“Is she sure this isn’t the Bore War?” Chris whispers from behind Parker, and Parker smiles slightly, eyes flicking away from the clock finally.
His eyes fall on a boy two chairs over and one up. The guy is bent over his desk, pen scribbling over his notebook, unevenly cut black hair tumbling into his eyes.
“D’you think he’s taking notes?” Parker murmurs back to Chris. The teacher is messing with the computer, trying to launch a link from the powerpoint and not paying attention at all.
“Who?”
Parker shakes his head, watching the guy bend over his notebook, pen skating over the page.
The bell rings before Parker can tell what the guy is doing. The usual mass of scraping chairs and chattering students fills the air as people pack up and rise, making a beeline for the door. The guy flips his notebook closed, glancing up finally, and Parker doesn’t look away fast enough.
Their eyes meet through the forest of legs and bodies between them. Parker feels stuck as the guy stares at him, but then the guy’s eyebrow drops half a centimeter.
“Come on,” Chris says, banging his bag against Parker’s shoulder. Half the class is already empty, and Chris gives him look before leaving too.
Shaking himself, Parker scrambles up, not bothering to check if the guy is still looking at him. He’s probably not.
“So are we going to library because studying really fucking sucks,” Chris says as Parker joins him in the hallway, shoving his book in his bag and joining the throng of students dispersing to lockers.
“Finals are in a few weeks,” Parker reminds him as they reach their lockers. Chris rolls his eyes.
“Finals of our senior year, dude. We’re accepted to college. No one gives a fuck what happens now.”
Rolling his eyes, Parker jerks open his locker. It’s full of crumpled up papers and books he hasn’t touched all year, but finals are just around the corner and his parents will kill him if he doesn’t ace them.
“Does that mean you’re not coming?” Parker asks, glancing at Chris, who shrugs, scratching at the back of his neck, running his fingers through his short, blond hair.
“Oh, shit, there’s Theresa,” Chris says instead, peering over the heads of other kids for a girl who just passed. “Hey, Theresa!”
Chris pushes away, leaving Parker by his locker taking books out and filling his bag. He shakes his head at Chris, smushing books together.
As he stands at his locker, someone knocks into him, a smack against his shoulder, and he frowns, turning. He stops, though, closes his mouth against whatever he was going to say.
The black-haired guy stands beside him, teeth closed over the silver lip ring glinting in the stark hallway lighting. His nose is off-center, a scar in his left nostril from an old piercing. Bright hazel eyes stare at Parker, and Parker shies away.
“You were staring at me,” the guy says plainly, and Parker looks away.
“I was just…”
“Staring at me.” The guy pauses, eyeing Parker’s bag. “Taking home the library?”
“Going there actually,” Parker says, eyeing the guy.
The guy nods. “Have fun.”
Parker stares after him as he leaves and Chris returns, a goofy smile on his face but it slips off as he stares at the guy’s retreating back.
“Was that Cole Dearing talking to you?” he asks. “Trying to set you up as an alibi for his latest act of delinquency?”
“You just said delinquency,” Parker responds, shutting his locker.
“Whatever,” Chris says, rolling his eyes. “The guy’s one stolen car away from being expelled. Wasn’t he just suspended for stealing a test and selling it to kids?”
Parker shrugs. He doesn’t know that much about Cole. Cole keeps to himself and has since he transferred in in December. Parker only knows the rumors just like everyone else.
“So are you coming to the library or not?”
“Not,” Chris replies. “I’m not going to waste my youth in a musty old library. Not when Theresa invited me to ‘study’ at her place.” He grins, waggling his eyebrows at Parker. “Peace, dude.”
Sighing, Parker watches him go. He closes his bag and swings it over his shoulder, joining the last few stragglers headed for the door.
Someone coughs in the depths of the musty shelves. A chair squeaks and someone whispers across a scratched tables. A book drops onto the floor with a muffled thud, and Parker scratches his nose, sighing down at the book open before him.
His parents voices ring in his head, mixing with the blur of numbers and physics formulas, lecturing about grades and doing well and how when he’s a doctor or a lawyer or whatever high-paying career he ends up in, he’ll be thanking them.
Groaning, he drops his head to the book, closing his eyes.
“Learning through osmosis?”
Parker jerks his head up, nearly tearing the page off in his haste.
Cole sits in the chair opposite Parker, arms crossed on the table as he leans towards Parker. Parker stares then smiles slightly, mostly out of nerves.
“I wish,” he replies instead, looking away from Cole’s mouth and back to his textbook. He hasn’t written anything in it in ten minutes and he can’t even remember what paragraph he’d been on. He pauses a moment when Cole doesn’t speak. He looks up, frowning. “What do you want?”
Cole sits back and smiles a little. “I need help finding a book.”
Parker arches an eyebrow. “Well, there’s a card catalogue right over there, and a computer, and a librarian. I assume you know how to use at least one.”
Cole licks his lips before smirking at him. “You think I’m stupid.”
“No,” Parker says quickly. “No, I just don’t have time to find books for you.”
“Yeah,” Cole says, plucking Parker’s notebook out from under his fingers, ignoring his noise of protest. “You’re awfully busy. You haven’t given this guy a mouth yet.”
“Give that back,” Parker says, grabbing it back and snapping it shut.
Cole leans forward again. “Do you want me to be honest with you?”
Parker frowns. He doesn’t particularly trust Cole but he doesn’t really know him either.
“I just wanna know why you were watching me.”
“I wasn’t,” Parker argues, but Cole arches an eyebrow, and he huffs. “I don’t know. I was bored and you were there. What does it matter?”
“There’s always a reason,” Cole replies, biting his lip ring slowly. He pauses, ignoring the squeak of a library cart as the librarian wheels behind them and disappears beyond a shelf. “You like watching me. You like trying to figure me out, if I’m really the bad kid, why I got expelled from my last school, if it’d be worth it to help me find this book that I’m not really looking for.”
Parker blinks, hand closed over his notebook still, a prickle of nervousness climbing up his spine, but a small thrill of excitement follows.
He’d never do something like this, not with someone like Cole. Chris would call him crazy. His parents would be horrified.
“What do you say?” Cole asks, and Parker jumps as Cole’s hand lands on his knee under the table.
He should say no, pack up his stuff and get out of there, but instead, he hesitates, feeling the thud of his heart, the rush in his ears as he contemplates the options. Cole’s hand rests on his knee, and Cole watches him intently.
“Okay,” Parker says before he can rethink it, a crazy thrill rushing through him as he stands, leaving his books behind, and Cole smirks, rising as well and leading the way into the stacks.
Parker has been coming to this library since he was four years old, and he knows where each stack leads, which authors sit on which shelves, where the librarians tend to hang out, but Cole is leading the way, fingers reaching for his wrist and tugging him around a corner to a towering stack of books.
There’s no one around and the squeak of the librarian’s cart is far off in the distance.
“What book are we not looking for?” Parker asks as they turn more corners, shying away from the random appearances of people.
“I’ll know it when I see it,” Cole replies, glancing at the books he passes, tightening his grip on Parker’s wrist.
Parker doesn’t know what he’s doing, why he’s doing this, but he doesn’t want to listen to that little nagging voice, the one that sounds like his mother. He wants to crush it.
“Ah,” Cole says a second later as they enter the aisle filled with dusty, old reference books that likely haven’t been moved since they were put there twenty years ago. “Here we are.”
Before Parker can say anything, Cole’s bag drops to the floor, notebooks spilling out onto the short, grey carpet, and he shoves Parker up against the shelf.
Parker sucks in a breath, a second of panic overtaking him as he stares at Cole. He could probably get out of this if he tried, claim temporary insanity and never talk to Cole again.
Cole licks his lips, holding Parker’s eyes, as if he knows the thoughts going through his head. He doesn’t say anything, though, doesn’t offer Parker an out, only quirks an eyebrow and leans in.
Cole’s mouth closes over Parker’s easily, and Parker’s heart stutters over a beat at the way Cole doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t pause at all to let him think about it. It shouldn’t shock him, given what he knows (or rather doesn’t know) about him.
Cole’s hand twines into Parker’s short, brown hair as he presses closer, dragging his teeth over his bottom lip, sharp and hard, something Parker hasn’t felt in a long time, possibly ever. He isn’t sure how to react, but his body seems to know what to do without his usual awkward flailing.
His fingers anchor into the hem of Cole’s shirt, and he gasps softly when Cole jerks his head forward, mouths crashing together, and he has to remind himself to be quiet. They’re in the library, after all, in plain sight of anyone who might be passing by the end of the aisle.
Cole’s hands are moving, sliding from the shelf to his waist, curling around his waist, but then moving to his lower back, then sliding up between his shoulder blades. Parker hasn’t been touched this much in forever, not by someone with their tongue in his mouth, teeth biting his bottom lip until it’s sore.
He can hear the quiet pant when Cole pulls back a second, the soft exhale of breath, and he watches Cole’s tongue slide over his lower lip, across the shiny metal ring. He doesn’t want him to go, though, and before he thinks it through, he grabs the back of Cole’s neck, pulling him forward.
His teeth close over the lip ring and it feels smooth against his tongue. It doesn’t taste metallic like he thought, and he swears he can feel Cole’s smirk against his mouth as he presses himself closer, and Parker can feel the books pressing into his spine, sharp against his back.
Heat rises on his skin, a flush in his cheeks, a stirring in his stomach. Cole’s mouth is hot, biting at Parker’s lips, pushing his tongue to meet Parker’s. He’s relentless, and Parker doesn’t stop him, pulling him in closer, but there’s nowhere to go. Behind him, a book wobbles as Cole’s elbow knocks into it.
Parker makes a choked noise against Cole’s mouth, barely audible, but the library is fairly silent around them, so it seems to echo.
It’s the thud of a book hitting the floor closely followed by the squeak of the library cart that makes Parker push Cole away hastily.
Cole’s eyes are bright, and a smirk curls his mouth, lips red and inviting as Parker stares, catching his breath, eyes flicking to the end of the row where a cart edges into view.
Instantly, Parker drops to his knees, grabbing the book that fell, while Cole stares down at him. Around the corner, the librarian, an older woman with short, curly grey hair, peers down at them, hawk-like in her perusal of the scene – Cole’s bag dumped on the floor, Parker reaching for the notebooks, and Cole glancing her way briefly.
Cole moves after a second, bending down to pick up a book, and the woman moves on slowly.
“Shit,” Parker mutters to himself. That was close.
He grabs the last of Cole’s notebooks, one that’s lying open on the ground, and he pauses as he looks at the drawing on the page. It’s the notebook he’d had open in class earlier.
It’s just a sketch, uneven pen lines covering the page, and Parker finds himself mirrored on the page, from his slightly rounded chin to the freckles on his nose, a serious expression on his face.
“That’s me,” he says as he rises from the floor, and Cole arches an eyebrow. He takes the other notebooks from Parker’s hands, shoving them in his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. A hand rakes his hair backwards.
“You’ve got a nice face,” he says simply.
“It’s really good,” Parker says, staring down at the drawing, surprised anyone could actually draw something like that. His own artistic abilities amount to stick figures and 3-D boxes for geometry.
“Yeah,” Cole says dismissively, taking the notebook from Parker’s hand and closing it, putting it away. “I didn’t draw it for you.”
Parker isn’t sure what to say. “Oh. Right. Of course not.” He shakes his head quickly.
Cole eyes him as he latches his bag. “But who knows. If you’re not too scared, maybe someday I will.”
“What?” Parker asks as Cole starts to turn, and Cole pauses, glancing back. A smirk plays at the corner of his lips and he shifts the bag on his shoulder.
“You’re a better kisser than I thought. Can’t wait to see what else you’re better at than I expected.” Cole nods at him. “I’ll see you around, Parker.”
Parker watches him leave, the library book still clutched in his hand. It feels like some sort of weird dream, but his mouth is sore as he rubs at his lips, glancing over as the librarian returns. She peers down at him, eyebrows contracted suspiciously.
Turning jerkily, he lifts the book, noticing the cover for the first time. A History of the Bore War stares him back in the face. The library cart squeaks as the woman leaves and Parker slides the book back on the shelf, smiling to himself, and turning to gather his things and get out of the library.
III.
Sprawled In The Park
Parker tugs up a blade of grass as he sits under the shade of the leafy maple tree, legs crossed and book bag tossed carelessly aside. There’s only one book in it and it has absolutely nothing to do with biochemistry, the only reason his parents let him out of the house.
The hickey on his neck is finally starting to fade, and he’s glad because his mother has been glaring at it for a week.
“So we’re studying organic chemistry?” Cole asks, pushing Parker’s shoulders back until he’s lying on the lumpy ground, staring up at the sun through the leaves.
“Bio-chem,” Parker corrects with a smile.
“Your parents must really hate me.” Cole leans down, running his tongue up Parker’s neck to his ear. Biting the lobe, he shifts, crawling more on top of Parker. “Only letting you out of the house to study… in the summer.”
Parker sighs, tilting his head back and gazing up at the leaves. “They just want me to—”
“Become a doctor or a lawyer or a cut-throat business man who doesn’t fool around with guys with lip rings and tattoos who don’t have a life plan at age eighteen,” Cole finishes, but Parker finds it hard to take him seriously as his mouth closes over his neck, sucking another hickey onto the skin. His parents are not going to be happy.
“I don’t have a life plan,” Parker mumbles, letting his hand slide down, slipping under Cole’s shirt. Cole’s skin is smooth and soft, and Parker’s fingers linger just above the waist of his jeans, thumb brushing over the base of his spine.
“They have one for you. Same difference,” Cole replies, teeth sinking into the skin below Parker’s ear, and Parker doesn’t even jump anymore.
Parker frowns. “Well, that doesn’t mean it’s going to happen.”
Cole laughs, and Parker can feel the hot puff of air against his neck. Parker’s fingers still and he struggles to sit up, pushing Cole away as he frowns.
“It’s not,” he says as Cole falls back on his knees, an unimpressed arch to his eyebrows. Parker knows he probably doesn’t care either way, but it matters to him. “I could decide to major in art.”
Cole scoffs, and this time it’s probably warranted given Parker’s acute lack of any art skill whatsoever.
“Fine, bad example,” he admits, rolling his eyes. “But I’m serious.”
“Of course you are,” Cole says, closing the distance again and pulling Parker’s mouth closer to his. His eyes drop to it, and Parker wonders if he was listening at all. He doesn’t stop Cole from kissing him, though, falling into the pull of Cole’s mouth, the cool slide of his lip ring, the sharp nip of teeth. “And I’m gonna be an award-winning scientist some day.”
“Cole!” Parker says, shoving him away as Cole laughs, pieces of his fauxhawk falling into his eyes. He shakes them away. “Do you really think I’m that much of a push-over?”
Cole eyes him, apparently trying to decide how to word his answer, but the pause is answer enough as Parker huffs and sits back on the grass.
“Forget it,” Cole says a second later, crawling over to him and reaching for his hair. He strokes down the edges slowly as Parker avoids his eyes. “You can do whatever the fuck you want. Screw your parents.”
“Easy for you to say,” Parker mutters. “You already get to do something you love. You’re going to art school in the fall.”
“Just barely.” Cole leans into Parker’s neck, pressing soft kisses up to his jaw, but Parker frowns resolutely. “But I don’t give a fuck about school.”
“Yeah, I know,” Parker says before he can stop himself.
“You shouldn’t either.”
“But I do,” Parker says with a sigh. “And my parents do, and they’re paying for it after all.”
Cole pulls back, shaking his head at Parker. “I don’t even want to know why you’re fucking around with me then.”
Parker frowns, opening his mouth, but Cole silences anything he’d been about to say with a kiss, forcing Parker down onto his back, a hand going for his pants.
“That wasn’t a question,” he says, “and I don’t want an answer.”
“But,” Parker gets out as Cole’s hand shove under his jeans, wrapping around his cock, and he’s distracted, glancing around sharply, but the park is big and fairly empty. A couple with a dog strolls in the far distance, too far for anyone to notice them. “Cole.”
“Look, I’m okay being the bad influence. I like it,” Cole says, squeezing slightly, watching Parker’s face change. “I like making you sneak out, and giving your parents hell. It must kill them to know I’m corrupting their perfect son. Think they’d be mad if I jerked you off right here? In public? Think they’d be mad if we were caught?”
Parker swallows carefully, glancing down at Cole’s hand under his jeans, and he can feel the rough pads of his fingers against his skin. A leaf drifts down from above, landing a foot away on the crisp grass.
“Yeah,” he says finally. “I think they’d be furious.”
Cole smirks. “Then we shouldn’t disappoint them,” he says, shifting over Parker to block the view from any passersby that might come, and Parker bites his lip as Cole drags his hand down.
His jeans are too tight for this, too tight for Cole’s hand underneath them, but he doesn’t care as the heat blooms in his prick, blood thudding against Cole’s hand as he shifts, pushing his hips up into his grip, trying to help him along before they really are caught. His law textbooks tell him it’s public indecency, what they’re doing, but he doesn’t want to stop Cole. Not that he could anyway. Once Cole gets an idea in his head, it always seems to happen.
Cole bites his lip ring, eyes glued to Parker’s hips, watching them push up, thrusting into his hand, and Parker could swear he’s smirking.
“Cole,” Parker breathes quietly, glancing down at him, watching the way his hand moves, how Cole’s eyes flick from his hips up to his face when he speaks.
Parker hasn’t thought much about it, about the future, not with Cole anyway. It just hasn’t occurred to him, and he doubts Cole has either. Cole’s not one to plan.
Parker sucks in a sharp breath as Cole’s hand speeds up, jerking him faster, rougher. Cole’s mouth lands on his neck, sliding down to his shoulder, biting down. There’s going to be a mark and Parker’s going to have to explain it, but the memory of Cole jerking him off will sustain him through the disapproving glares of his mother and his father forbidding him to see Cole, yet again.
“Yes,” Cole mutters against Parker’s shoulder, licking the bite mark.
Parker feels Cole’s hips moving, shifting up against his despite his hand in the way. Swallowing, Parker takes a chance, reaching down, pulling Cole’s hand out and inching down until their hips align, and Cole hisses as their erections meet, hard and throbbing together.
“Shit,” Parker breathes as Cole grinds their hips together, rough and uncoordinated, and their panting breath fills the air as things become more and more rushed, a desperate slide of fabric against fabric, friction and heat between their jeans.
Parker has never gotten off like this, not with someone else, but one look at Cole and he knows he’ll be able to.
A flush rises on Cole’s cheeks as he moves, pushing in against Parker, biting back the noises, head bowed forward, arms braced against the ground. He chews on his lip ring intently, thrusting against Parker as Parker gasps, grabs Cole’s hips as his hips arch, seeking that last push of friction that’ll have him coming in his jeans.
“Fuck, yes,” Cole growls, and Parker watches the way Cole’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, shaking his bangs from his eyes.
Cole gazes down at Parker, and Parker sees something strange, a spark of something other than lust in his eyes, something deeper, but it’s gone as Cole throws his head back, mouth open in a silent cry.
Parker can’t feel the wetness as Cole comes, but his own release comes moments later, stuttered in his jeans as Cole’s hips still grind down, slowing to a stop as they lie there.
“Shit,” Parker says again, exhaling slowly. “You’re good at that.”
Cole smirks, sitting up and crawling off Parker. A wet spot decorates the front of his jeans but he doesn’t look bothered as he reaches over, brushing bits of grass out of Parker’s hair.
Parker reaches over, fingers sliding over the bite mark on the top of his shoulder. He can’t see it but he knows where it is, and he knows his parents aren’t going to be happy. Cole follows his hand, gazing at the mark.
“Want me to go lower next time?” he asks, and Parker glances at him curiously. Cole has never asked that before.
“No,” Parker says after a second. “They can deal with it.”
Cole nods with a small smile. “I think I might be rubbing off on you.”
“Pun intended?” Parker grins, and Cole laughs, reaching for his bag next to them. He slides out his notebook and a pencil.
“Yeah,” he says, flipping open his notebook and glancing up at Parker. He pauses a second, pencil poised against the page.
“What?” Parker asks, pushing his hair back and finding another twig lodged in the back. He pulls it out, dropping it on the ground.
Cole shakes his head after a second. “Nothing. Just don’t move.”
Pulling his knees up to his chin, Parker doesn’t say anything but watches Cole begin to sketch, a small smile at the corner of his lips as another leaf flutters down from above and lands at his feet, crisp and green.
IV.
Out Of The Closet
Chris stares at Parker, video game controller motionless in his hands as his car screeches off the track and explodes as it hits the wall. Then he laughs.
“Dude, you’re crazy,” he says, turning back to the TV and backing up the smoking car.
“I’m serious,” Parker says, glancing at the screen, but he’s not interested in the game anymore. He wants Chris to understand.
Chris arches a skeptical eyebrow, grabbing a handful of chips and stuffing them in his mouth. “You seriously want me to believe that you kissed Cole Dearing? In the library?” He scoffs. “That’s your worst lie ever, and we both know you’re a sucky liar.”
“I’m not lying!” Parker huffs, setting down his controller now. He fixes Chris with a frown as they sit in the living room, afternoon sunlight streaming in through the windows.
His parents are gone for the weekend, some couples getaway. Parker and Chris have mostly filled their time with video games and pizza, and Parker has spent it obsessing over Cole and what it could have meant. He hasn’t talked to Cole yet, although he has passed him a few times in the hall. He gets the feeling Cole is just biding his time until he makes his next move.
“Why don’t you believe me?”
Chris grins. “Gee, I don’t know. Perfect Parker making out with the school bad boy in a public library? That sounds just like you.”
“But it happened,” Parker insists, and Chris just laughs. “Stop laughing!”
“Sorry, but come on, man,” Chris says plainly, dropping his controller too. “Why would Cole even talk to you? No offence but you’re a little boring.”
“Thanks,” Parker deadpans.
“I’m just saying that Cole Dearing is one step away from being expelled and he decides to hit on you? The guy with perfect attendance and straight A’s? The Salutatorian? Come on.”
“Well,” Parker says helplessly since he has no answers to any of those questions. “At least it’s not Valedictorian?”
It’s not. His parents have reminded him enough times already. Chris just shakes his head.
“I just don’t see it happening.”
“But it did happen!” No one seems to understand, and it’s frustrating him to no end. “I was in the library and he started talking to me and then he, I don’t know how it happened, but then he kissed me and we almost got caught by the librarian.”
Chris arches a skeptical eyebrow, grabbing more chips and leaving crumbs all over the floor that Parker will have to vacuum up before his parents get home.
“And then did she turn into a green octopus and float away through the stacks?”
Parker smacks his forehead in frustration. Curling up his knees, he glares at the TV instead.
“It wasn’t a dream.”
Of all people, he’d thought Chris would believe him, but he has no proof aside from the memory of Cole, Cole’s tongue in his mouth, lip ring cool against his skin, Cole’s fingers in his hair. He should have known better, though, better than to think people would think him capable of such a thing.