He never knew what to do in situations like that. Jimmy was never proficient in flirting. He wasn’t particularly shy, but whenever there was a cute guy around, he tended to freeze up on the spot. His friends tried to set him up on dates, but he was so busy with work. The only time he got his fill of male attention lately was when he encountered the cute guy on the bus.
He texted his best friend during the walk home from the bus stop, detailing every bit until he arrived at the ten-story, vintage apartment building. It was a genuine historic building, erected in the early twentieth century.
Jimmy buzzed himself into the lobby and took the gold-plated, refurbished elevator up to the sixth floor. He fumbled with his ring of keys, flipping just past the Batman keychain and mini pepper spray until he located the house key. He stumbled into the apartment, still glued to his cellphone.
The lights were all off as he entered, the sound of fingers pounding away at a computer keyboard. He walked through the pitch black living room, following the rapid tapping until he reached the dining room, which had been converted into a small office. Sitting at the small metal desk was a man in his mid-forties, hunched over a laptop.
“Hey, dad.”
“Hey, Jimmy.” Mr. O’Brian said without looking away from his computer. He was just like an older version of his son, with darker red hair and lighter eyes. He wasn’t hard on the eyes either, with his mature, good looks. His sense of wisdom was apparent from the creased lines on his forehead and around his eyes. The only light in the apartment reflected from the computer screen and off of his thick glasses.
Jimmy threw his backpack on the coffee table and flipped on some lights as he walked into the kitchen.
“Sorry, almost finished.” Mr. O’Brian clicked a few more keys and then closed his laptop. “There’s a burrito in the fridge for you.” He smirked, going into the cupboard in search of tortilla chips.
“Thanks, dad.” Jimmy grabbed the burrito and a jar of salsa, closing the door with his foot. “How was work?”
Jimmy’s dad lit up, “Oh, it was a good day! I think I’ve finally found a decent lead on a story.” He continued to grin, causing Jimmy to become curious as to what his dad had managed to come across.
Mr. O’Brian enjoyed writing for a living, but most of the time, he was stressed due to tight deadlines given to him by the magazines he wrote articles for. He always seemed panicked around the first of the month when rent was due. Jimmy wondered what kind of story would be big enough to make his father this excited.
They posted up in front of the television as they ate together. Every so often, Mr. O’Brian would get up and sit at his computer, typing away while he missed the good parts of every show.
“Hey, dad, you’re missing it.”
“Sorry,” Mr. O’Brian responded from over his shoulder.
Jimmy paused the the show, fully turning around and perched on the couch. “So, what is this big story you have?”
“It’s going to be great, Jimmy!” Mr. O’Brian answered enthusiastically. “It’s something that could change our lives for the better. Things could actually start looking up for us!”
“That’s awesome, can’t wait to hear about it.” Jimmy turned back around, resuming the program and taking another bite of his burrito.
Mr. O’Brian rushed back over to the couch and sat facing his son. “The only thing is, I need help...your help.”
“Sure, what’s up?” Jimmy asked without breaking eye contact with the screen.
The television unexpectedly went black. When Jimmy looked to his dad, he was holding the remote, a more serious look on his face. He began to get a weird feeling, like the burrito was disagreeing with his stomach.
“I need your help,” he repeated. “You’re the only one that can help me with this story.”
“I said I would, dad.” Jimmy knew there was nobody else his dad would ask primarily because his dad wasn’t the most social man in the world. He acquired the majority of his freelance work by searching online, and Jimmy was an only child.
Mr. O’Brian hesitated for a moment, then went into the office and retrieved his laptop. He flipped it open and turned the screen toward Jimmy.
“What is it?” Jimmy asked, more confused than before.
“This is going to pay our rent for the next couple of years, if we can squeeze a good enough story out of it.”
“I don’t understand. What kind of story are you trying to break here?”
“Well, it’ll be you breaking it actually.” Mr O’Brian scratched his scalp and adjusted his glasses. “You see, your internship is almost over, and I figured this would be the best way to get some hands on experience out in the field as a journalist.”
“But, I don’t know anything about journalism yet. All I’ve been doing is getting coffee and driving Esther’s Shih-Tzu to doggy daycare.” Jimmy never realized how embarrassing that sounded until it was said out loud. A year had passed since high school, and not only did he not have a real job yet, but his own father knew he needed a life.
“Jimmy, if you put your mind to this, I know you can do it. Being a journalist is in your blood. It’s the O’Brian family art.”
“What is it that you want me to do though?” Jimmy urged, pointing at the laptop screen.
Mr. O’Brian delayed for a moment, contemplating how he was to present his case to his son. “Jimmy,” He put a hand on his shoulder and smiled, “The first thing you’re going to do is enroll in the Lost Boys Academy.”
Jimmy made his way down the school hallway, blots of darkness becoming illuminated from the moonlight seeping through the windows. As he reached for the doorknob of his dorm room, he wavered, and then turned the knob as quietly as he could. He didn't want to wake Jake, or else he wouldn't let him go to sleep until midnight.
He cautiously pushed the door open, grunting in frustration as his eyes fell upon his half-naked roommate.
"What are you doing out so late?" Jake twisted his torso around, shirtless but thankfully wearing a pair of jeans. His tone wasn't angry or accusatory—only curious; but Jimmy wasn't in any mood for what Jake had to say at the moment.
"Nothing."
"Oh, yeah?"
"Yeah."
Jake smirked and nodded. "Okay, then."
Jimmy moved around Jake and crawled into bed. He laid his head onto his blue pillow, staring at the ceiling, and then shut his eyes.
The sound of Jake rustling around in the room began to creep on his nerves. It felt like an hour had passed.
Then came the sound of a belt buckle coming undone, and Jimmy couldn't help but to open an eyelid just enough to get a peek. Jake pulled down his pants and carelessly threw them off to the side. He wasn't wearing underwear. Instead, he wore a white jockstrap which just happened to perfectly frame his butt.
Jimmy began to feel aroused as excitement coursed through his body. He couldn't help it. As annoying as Jake was, he was hot as hell.
Jimmy was hypnotized. He watched each cheek go up and down, up and down, as Jake sauntered over to a small mirror above his nightstand, playfully rustling his hair up a bit.
"What are you doing?" Jimmy finally interjected.
Jake turned his head over his shoulder and grinned. "Nothing," he then turned back and continued to mess his hair up a little more.
Jimmy sighed, forcing himself to look at the ceiling. "You know we're gonna get checked on any minute now, right?"
"Oh, I know."
Jimmy didn't have to see Jake's face to know he still had that cocky smile planted on it. He rubbed his eyes and sat up in his bed. "Jake, whatever you have planned, I'm not going to get mixed up in it." He grabbed his pillow, marching his way to the door. His eyes couldn't help but gravitate to Jake's body as he passed by, following the curve of his muscled back, and all the way down.
"You're not gonna stay for the show?"
"No. I told you, I'm not going to get in trouble because of you."
"How can I possibly get in trouble wearing this
?" Jake stretched the elastic on his jockstrap and let it slap the back of his thigh. "Actually, I take that back; because this thing has gotten me into a lot of trouble.” He adjusted the waistband up his waist slightly, accentuating his junk even more. “No guy in their right mind can resist a jockstrap on a young, hard body... and tonight, it's going to get me lucky."
Jimmy shook his head in disbelief and turned for the door. "I'm not going to watch you get expelled. You know the three strikes rule."
"Yeah, but I only have one strike right now." Jake smirked and shrugged his shoulders, trying to pull off an innocent facial expression.
"I'm pretty sure that trying to seduce a teacher counts for more than one strike."
"Come on, Jimmy, you're the one who bet I couldn't."
"I dunno about that." Jimmy opened the door. "That was a bad idea. He’s our teacher, Jake.” Just as he was about to leave the room, he heard footsteps coming from down the hall. A flashlight shone in his direction, causing him to panic. He quickly shut the door, ran to his bed and buried himself underneath his comforter.
Jimmy’s heart pounded rapidly. He closed his eyes, waiting for the door to swing open as he imagined having to explain his naked roommate. Before he could think of an excuse, the door creaked and his eyes shot open as the flashlight danced across his covers from the other side, then across the room until it stopped on what could only be Jake.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Parker!” Mr. Pierce exclaimed as he turned away in shock and looked to the floor.
"It's okay." Jake grinned. "You just caught me in the middle of changing.”
Jimmy raised the sheet just enough to peek though at the gut-wrenching scene that was taking place before him.
Mr. Pierce hesitantly looked back up, still facing away. "We've got a lot to do tomorrow, so why are you up so late?” His eyes halted at the mirror above Jake's nightstand. He could have very easily look away, but he didn't. Everything was visible through the mirror.
A perfect view of Jake's midsection framed the cheap dorm mirror. From Jake’s flat, defined stomach, each freckle winding down to the v-shape lines on his hips, right above the waistband of his jockstrap. Not a thing was left to the imagination through the thin fabric.
"Just working out a little bit,” Jake explained. “I always work out in my jockstrap; It’s become like a habit ever since I took that weight training class in high school."
Mr. Pierce couldn't help but give in and play into it. "But, you couldn't just wear that thing by itself."
"I didn’t. I usually wore shorts and a shirt, but I tend to sweat a lot when I work out. I didn't bring a ton of clothes with me here, so it's easier for me to just work out in this.” Jake then noticed how Mr. Pierce could see him through the mirror. He smirked, knowing that he was putty in his hands.
He ran his hand up to his chest and scratched lightly, pretending there was an itch. Then he let it fall sensually down his stomach, softly caressing his smooth skin as he outlined his abs. His hand finally fell to his crotch; his bulge protruded too far to ignore, so he grabbed it, readjusting his package.
Mr. Pierce breathed in deep, forcefully breaking his gaze with the mirror. He massaged his temples and gazed back down to the floor. "This could be tempting for someone who is trying to recover, Jake."
"Jimmy doesn't mind.” Jake answered casually. “If, that’s who you mean.”
Jimmy’s heart hammered harder than before. He was becoming more furious by the second. He was moments away from ripping off the covers before recognizing that it wasn’t the best idea despite his emotion.
"Well, that may be the case, but this is not how we heal our sinning ways, Jake. If Jimmy is going to heal, he cannot see your body like…that.” Mr. Pierce looked up at the ceiling, tapping his foot. “It's just too provocative.”
“Is it?” Jake began to stride predatorily towards him.
Jimmy wasn’t a mindreader, but he could see how badly Mr. pierce was shaking. He was a moment away from cracking, and Jimmy covered his face back up with the comforter, unable to continue watching.
Mr. Pierce gulped and spun around carefully. “It is. Now, get dressed, understood?” He glared at Jake with a stern look in his eye.
After a brief pause, Jake obeyed with a frustrating sigh, pulling on his gym shorts.
Mr. Pierce then shone his flashlight onto Jimmy's bed. "Jimmy, wake up please. I need to see your face."
Jimmy retracted the covers lazily, blinking dramatically and rubbing his eyes as if he had just woken up, "Oh, hey, Mr. Pierce."
"Hi, Jimmy. Jake was just about to go to bed. He had a few things to sort out, but he's finished now." Mr. Pierce nodded to Jake and went for the door. He paused, his hand on the knob as he turned slightly over his shoulder. “Jake, if I catch you up this late again, I'm going to have no choice but to give you another strike. I don't want to have to do that.” He walked out of the dorm room and closed the door forcefully behind him.
“What the hell was that?” Jimmy demanded in a hushed voice.
“What?” Jake defended, eyebrows raised innocently.
“You almost landed me a strike! You said I 'didn't mind' that you trot around in that jockstrap.”
Jake stretched his arms over his head, rolling his eyes obnoxiously. “What do you care? You hate this place just as much as I do. And it's not like you're really trying to change.”
“Who are you to decide?” Jimmy fell backward onto his bed and sighed, staring at the ceiling again.
Jake laughed condescendingly. “What, are you trying to say that you're all of a sudden going to try and become straight? 'Cause you know that ain't gonna work.”
“I'm not saying that.” Jimmy guarded.
“Oh, really? 'Cause that's exactly what it sounds like you're saying'.”
Jimmy couldn’t take it anymore. “Jake, just shut up!” He raised his voice to a point nobody had probably ever heard before.
“Wow.”
“Just let me talk, okay?” he continued. “Look, we're not going to get out of here unless we 'pass', right? What are you going to do if you don't? Are your parents going to accept you back so easily after they payed a small fortune to get you here? They sent you here for a reason Jake, and if you're not going to play by the rules, then at least let other people fake their way through and go home. Don't bring Mason, or anyone else down in the process.”
Jake stood in in awe for a moment. Jimmy never yelled, but when he did, he made sure it was for a good reason.
“If this is about Mason, he’s all yours. I’ll let you have him.”
Jimmy grew more annoyed than ever. He was truly speechless. At this point, he had no fight left in him to even reply.
Jake plopped down on his bed. “I will say this...I saw the way Mr. Pierce looked at me. Our bet is still on. The quarter isn't over yet." He then rolled over to face the opposite wall. “Night, roomie.”
Jimmy rolled his eyes. He knew he couldn't influence Jake. Not one bit. He didn't accept what Jake had said, but he knew he had to change the way he was around Jake from now on. They both had to learn to live with each other for the rest of their time at the academy.
He lay in bed, staring at the ceiling as his thoughts were clouded with conflicting scenarios. This story could be good, if Jake actually went through with it and won the bet. But at what cost? He didn’t agree with the way Jake was going about Mr. Pierce, but a story was a story. And this one could potentially help a lot more people than it hurt.
Mr. Pierce yielded outside of Jake's dorm room, twirling the flashlight and tapping his foot nervously. He leaned against the door with his back, and closing his eyes. All he could see in his mind were flashes of Jake, his jockstrap harnessed onto his perfectly-toned body. His half-smirk and big, brown eyes beckoned him to come closer. He tried to steady his breathing as he ran his fingers through his hair, and then through his short stubble on his face. He shook his head, stopped fidgeting, and clicked off the flashlight. Mr. Pierce's lonely steps echoed down th
e hallway until he disappeared up the staircase.
Mr. Pierce was a changed man. He had to believe that.
Coming Soon
Lost Boys Academy - Book #2: MAY 2015
Lost Boys Academy - Book #3: JULY 2015
Lost Boys Academy (Book One: Orientation) Page 6
