You Belong With Me...?

by O. Fletcher, TIM

  The dance was due to break up at eleven o’clock, but by 9:45pm I was drunk, depressed and I just wanted to go home. Jen and Damian were still having a good time, out on the dance floor performing moves that would mortify them if they were sober. I wiggled my way through the crush of students to where they were boogying and shouted into Jen’s ear.

  “I’m going to head home, I’m not feeling it anymore.”

  “How are you gonna get home” she asked, understanding that I didn’t want to be there any longer.

  “I’ll walk,” I said.

  “That’s ages away!” She said in protest.

  “It’s okay, I feel like it.”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “Just call an Uber if you get too tired, or you start stumbling,” she said with a grin.

  I nodded then patted Damian on the back to say goodbye and started making my way out of the gymnasium.

  A teacher stopped me on my way out announcing, “You’re not allowed out unless you’re leaving for good.”

  “I know, my mom is picking me up now,” I lied. She nodded and let me exit.

  I shivered as I stepped outside. I couldn’t believe it wasn’t even winter yet and it was this cold. I’d need to walk pretty fast on my way home to keep warm.

  I was pretty much the only person outside, I could smell the lingering scent of cigarettes that some kids had managed to sneak outside and smoke. I took one look back at the gymnasium and started walking down the school driveway to start my hour or so long walk home.

  I hadn’t even reached the main road by the time I was tempted to call a taxi. I reasoned that it probably wasn’t more than about $15 for the fare and not freezing to death on my way home was worth the expenditure. I had just pulled out my phone from the pocket of my ripped jeans and had opened the app when I heard a car slowly driving behind me.

  I looked back and recognized Brad’s prowling BMW. He caught up to me quickly, his head leaning out the window.

  “What the hell are you doing?” he asked.

  “Walking home, obviously,” I answered, avoiding eye contact.

  “I’ll give you a lift home, jump in,” he said.

  “Nah I’m good. I could use the exercise,” I said lying, almost willing to give up my pride and jump into the warmth of his car.

  “Tyler, half your ass is hanging out of your jeans. You’ll freeze, just get in the car.”

  I closed my eyes and grimaced. I was about to reject the offer again when he added, “You can keep hating me or whatever; just let me drive you home.”

  I threw my hands up in mock defeat, “Fine, but I’m still not talking to you.”

  He smirked as I climbed into the passenger seat, “What do you call that then?”

  “I..” I managed to stop myself and huffed before turning my head to look out the window in the opposite direction of Brad. Out of the corner of my eye I could see him continuing to smirk, the infuriating bastard.

  “Your outfit looks awesome,” he said attempting to make small talk.

  I rolled my eyes and gave in, “Thanks, Jen and my mom are responsible though. I just got dressed and bared my ass to strangers.”

  He laughed at that, “Didn’t that get a bit heavy?” he asked pointing to my saxophone still securely hanging around my neck.

  “I’m used to it,” I answered, shrugging a little then adding, “Your costume is cool too.”

  “It was Tara’s idea; she was in a matching Toga type thingy.”

  “Speaking of, shouldn’t you be spending the rest of the night with her?”

  He shrugged. “She’s going out with her friends; I didn’t feel like holding purses for the rest of the night so I decided to ditch the dance.”

  I decided not to make the situation worse by getting into the whole ugly situation with Tara. I just nodded as a response and looked out the window, the tension in the car becoming more and more uncomfortable the longer the silence stretched. Thankfully, the journey from the school to my house wasn’t a very long one via car so I didn’t have to suffer in silence for too long before Brad pulled up outside my empty, quiet house. Halloween seems to bring out the crazies, so there was no way Mom could’ve taken the night off – the hospital needed all the help they could get.

  I pulled the handle and pushed the door of the car open with my foot. “Thanks for the ride,” I said as politely as I could manage before I put my hands on the frame of the car to hoist myself up. I was still a bit drunk and wobbly, and before I could successfully remove myself from Brad’s car, he grabbed my jacket and pulled. That little tug, combined with the weight of my Saxophone around my neck was enough to put off balance and sent me crashing back down on the passenger seat.

  “What?” I asked, annoyed and a little winded.

  “Can we please sort this out? I hate having you pissed off at me,” he asked earnestly.

  “I’m really not in the mood to deal with this now. I’m drunk, and I just accidentally outted myself to some kid in my English class – I just want to get into bed and wallow in self pity for a while.”

  Brad gave me a big smile, as if I had amused him in some way or another.

  “Fine, why don’t I come around tomorrow sometime?”

  “Brad…”

  “I’ll even bring you a disgusting greasy breakfast to cure your hangover,” he offered, trying to sweeten the deal.

  Having to sort this out with Brad tomorrow when I would more than likely be nursing a hangover felt about as appealing as going on a rollercoaster did right now.

  “I can’t, I have something on tomorrow. I’ll be gone early in the morning and I'll be out all day,” I lied.

  He stared at me for a moment, trying to decide if I was, in fact, lying to him or not. It seemed he believed me.

  “Fine, I guess I’ll see you at school sometime next week then?”

  “Yeah, I’ll see you around,” I answered as I finally managed to maneuver myself out of the car.

  Chapter Six

  Sunday morning, I woke with a headache, but not nearly as bad as the last time I was drinking. It was fixed with a big breakfast (disgusting and greasy), some aspirin and a hell of a lot of cold water. After I showered and felt alive again I remembered what I had said to Brad in the car last night.

  Great, now I have to pretend not to be here all day

  I had a feeling that if Brad got the feeling that I was in fact home and had been lying to him he’d just come over uninvited, and I didn’t think I could handle that.

  So all day the curtains stayed shut, I played music only through headphones and made sure to keep my lights off come nightfall. After dinner around seven o’clock (mmm meatballs) I came back into my room and found myself with pretty much nothing to do. I couldn’t study without the lights on, besides I’d done everything during the day. If Brad wasn’t home himself I could turn my lights on and work on some of my sketches.

  Reluctantly I went to my window, opened the curtains just the tiniest bit and held my binoculars to my eyes.

  Damn! He’s home!

  He was at his desk and seemed to be studying or working on something at least. For about five minutes I just sat at my window looking at him. The fact that he didn’t know I was watching him was making me a little wound up (I really have a thing for voyeurism, don’t I?) I was about to stop watching and go take care of business when Brad stood up from his desk and immediately took his shirt off and then started stroking himself through his pants.

  No way! There’s no way he’ll do that with the blinds open again, right?

  I could only hope…and he does think I’m out all night.

  The next thing I did was wrong, so very, very wrong. But in my defense, the man I was sort of in love with was about to do the hottest thing my imagination could even think of – but for real. Also, by this point I was hard and beginning to get a little lust crazy.

  I grabbed my cell phone. I pressed ‘record’. I held my cell up to my window and zoomed in on Brad just as he was taking his pants
off. I positioned my phone against the window so I wouldn’t have to hold it and then grabbed my binoculars and sat back and watched the show.

  Brad smirked, at what I had no idea, but he continued stroking softly through his tight black boxers. It was like he was deliberately teasing me and it was torture! Slowly he turned his back towards the window and at first I was disappointed that I wasn’t going to see the main attraction but then he slowly pulled his underwear down, bending just a little and just the right angle to make his ass look like perfection.

  He kicked the underwear away and turned back around to face the window with his hot, hard, gorgeous cock on display. Instead of the bed this time, he opted for his desk chair and he sat with his feet up resting against his bay window. I’m not sure why he kept returning to face the window, but by God I was glad he did. I had the most amazing view of Brad as he played with himself.

  His left hand ventured to the drawer in his bedside table and pulled out a tube of something, which he then liberally applied to his cock. His beautiful face was flushed red and his golden hair was tussled like he’d just been fucked.

  I couldn’t even think at this point, I was too preoccupied watching Brad to even touch myself.

  His hand was moving a little faster now, his mouth open in an O-shape of pleasure with one hand on his cock and the other torturing his left nipple. Up and down, again and again I could see him racing towards his orgasm and as much as I wanted to spend the rest of my life watching this scene, I needed him to cum so I could stop watching and relieve the pressure of my own aching dick.

  That wicked left hand was reaching for the lubricant again, slicking his fingers that then ventured down, down past his red throbbing cock and then pressed into himself. First one, then two, then Oh God… three fingers. Both hands were pumping fast as I saw his defined chest rising quickly as he came closer and closer to the finish line.

  My own breathing was ragged and as fast as a spitfire just from watching and with a last hard stroke he came squirting all over his sweaty chest. His face was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen; I can’t even describe how he looked when he came. It will haunt my dreams for the rest of my life, I’m sure.

  I was still watching intensely as his breathing slowed. He brought his right hand off his cock and scooped up a bit of his spent cum and languidly licked it off his finger. And that was about all my brain and cock (same organ at that precise moment) could take. I came, hard, without more than a stroke from the outside of my pants.

  After about five minutes when I’d come down from my orgasmic high I felt terrible. I couldn’t believe I’d just filmed Brad jerking off. I was officially a confirmed pervert. That being said I still couldn’t bring myself to delete the footage, hell I was even considering uploading it to my computer and making a director's cut.

  That night I dreamed wonderful dreams. So wonderful that when I woke up the next morning I was instantly depressed to be awake, and I had school in Fuck! Twenty-two minutes! I jumped out of bed, stumbled to my closet to find a freshly ironed uniform (thanks Mom!) I put it on hastily then ran down the stairs to grab an apple and a chocolate milk box for breakfast.

  I slammed my feet into my shoes as I locked the front door. Luckily my saxophone was already in its case next to my bag otherwise I totally would’ve forgotten it. I was on my bike and riding to school with eighteen minutes left until homeroom (that was quite possibly the fastest I’d ever gotten ready in my entire life.) I rode the usually twenty minute journey in thirteen minutes, somehow, leaving just five minutes to spare. I ran to my locker to retrieve my textbook for first lesson when a note fell out as I opened the door.

  Tyler, I really want to sort this out, please meet

  me under the stands by the football field at lunchtime.

  - B

  Shit, what in the hell was I supposed to do? I knew that I shouldn’t go but curiosity was starting to get the better of me. Why the hell did he want to meet under the stands? It was a notorious smokers’ hang out before and after school but at lunchtime it would be utterly deserted. Why not somewhere more… public? I sighed; I knew I’d end up going. Goddamn Brad and his stupid hold over me. I swear that boy was dangerous to my health.

  The morning passed and I could barely concentrate during any of my classes. I was fidgety and anxious, even Jen and Damian didn’t bother to try and make conversation with me during first break. My last class before lunch was English, I watched the clock with unbreakable concentration. Every second closer to lunch was another second I panicked. But I couldn’t really figure out why I was so nervous. After all, Brad said he wanted to apologize right?

  Maybe it was a trick though? Lure me out to somewhere the teachers wouldn’t be and then kick the shit out of me for kissing him last Friday. But that didn’t really seem like a thing Brad would do, besides if he was going to do that he had ample opportunity to do that whilst driving me home on Saturday night. He really was a decent enough guy once you actually got to know him. Screwed up, but nice. (Yeah I know, pot/kettle analogy.)

  The lunch bell rang and I jumped in my seat. I took my time gathering my things and I walked as slowly as possible to the bleachers in an attempt to not be the first one to arrive at the rendezvous. It took me about five minutes and I was relieved albeit terrified to find Brad waiting, alone, for me under the stands.

  “Tyler! I was sure you weren’t going to show.”

  “I only did because I knew you wouldn’t give up ‘til I heard what you have to say, now say it,” I said trying to sound defiant and courageous.

  He laughed, “You’re right, well I just wanted to apologize again for what ah, happened on Friday. I was so angry with Tara and I sort of over reacted. Please forgive me?”

  “Fine, you’re forgiven. Can I go now?”

  “What that’s it?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I apologized for over-reacting, aren’t you going to apologize for well, you know…”

  “For kissing you? No. Goodbye Brad, have a nice life.”

  I was holding it together pretty well, considering the sting of him asking me to say sorry for kissing him felt like I was being stabbed through the heart. I started walking away, when he grabbed my shoulder and whirled me around to face him.

  “Wait! I want to be friends again Tyler, can’t we just put this behind us?”

  “I don’t think us being friends it a very good idea. It was great when we didn’t talk, but face to face it’s a fucking disaster.”

  He roughly grabbed me by both hands and held me strongly.

  “Get your hands off me Brad.

  “No, not ‘til all this bad blood between us is sorted out.”

  He was actually starting to scare me a little, he was too strong and I couldn’t get out of his grip. I did the only thing I could think of to get out of the situation; I pulled my knee up and slammed it into his stomach. He instantly dropped to the ground with his hands nursing his injured mid-section.

  “What the hell did you do that for?” He looked angry… and a little turned on?

  He stood up and walked towards me. Even though we were basically the same height he had about thirty pounds of muscle on me. That, combined with the look in his eye was very intimidating.

  Be a man, Tyler. Stand up for yourself!

  “I told you to take your hands off me and you didn’t listen! I’m not some kid you can push around whenever you feel like it Brad.”

  He was backing me into a corner under the stands, dark and completely hidden from view. My breath was increasing; I was getting a little scared.

  “Are you scared of me Tyler?” he asked in a gravelly voice.

  The way he said that was so powerful and unfortunately, sexy. I was now scared and turned on.

  Shit!

  “No,” I tried to say confidently but my voice wavered, giving me away.

  I couldn’t move backwards anymore but Brad was still getting closer.

  Seriously, what is with us and confusing situ
ations under stadium seating?

  His eyes were wild and wide; I couldn’t tear my own away from them. My mouth was dry and my lips were chapped, I licked them and Brad’s eyes instantly followed the route of my tongue.

  God, I just wanted this moment to be over. It was so confusing, he was looking at me like I was a Twinkie and he was three months into his weight watchers regiment. But at the same time it felt like if I made a wrong move he’d injure me.

  Both our breathing was erratic and I felt a wave of desire flood my body as his hand made contact with my shoulder. His beautiful eyes closed as he leaned forward, only inches from my face. He came closer and I shut my eyes in anticipation –

  “Brad!” Came a call from about 20 feet away.

  It was Tara. Fuck my life.

  Brad’s eyes opened to the size of cupcakes and he jumped away from me and walked quickly back to where he would be visible. Although he couldn’t see me he sent a look my way pleading that I stay hidden. I obliged simply because I didn’t want to explain the situation to her as much as he didn’t.

  “Oh Brad! There you are. I’ve been looking for you all day! I wanted to talk to you about the Prom.”

  Vapid hoe-bag.

  “Ah, yeah, what about it?” he asked sounding puzzled.

  “Well, I finally picked the perfect dress, and I thought you should see it to find out what you think and so you know what to get to match,” she said with a big smile on her face.

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. He was still considering going to the Prom (that was over six weeks away) with Tara even after everything that's happened. She was cheating on him for fuck’s sake!

  “Whatever you want Tara, I’ll leave all the decisions up to you. Just tell me what I have to do to make it happen,” he stated with a fake smile.

  She looked both happy and annoyed with that statement, “You know you should really be more involved with this, I mean it is your senior Prom too…”