Good for Me

by Aeryn Jaden

  Yes, I’m more fucked up that it would seem at first glance.

  “You can stop trying to hide your sigh of relief. I’m finding you’re terrible at hiding things.”

  Well, fuck.

  “Sorry.”

  “Nah, it’s okay. It was a lot to take in this evening. Me”, he turned that predatory grin in my direction, “and then all the rest.”

  I was becoming terribly fond of the door pressing in my back since my knees started trembling harder with each step he took towards me.

  I wasn’t ready for this, was I? Almost snorted out-loud at that. Twenty-five years old, and scared shitless that this time Bain will introduce me to the kind of kiss I could read in his heated gaze, not the almost inexistent brush of lips from before. His eyes told me that he understood and knew the thoughts flying randomly in my brain and he stopped before me, so close that we were almost touching. I wanted to, wanted to lean into him and let him do as he pleased, as he promised with those soft eyes. I didn’t knew how.

  He seemed to know that too and quirked his lips in a half-smile when his slow caress of my cheek made me jump to the roof.

  “So tense…I wonder why nobody saw you and grabbed you for himself or herself before. I’m glad nobody did. Selfish, no?”

  I could only shake my head.

  “I see that you don’t know why I say this and you don’t really see yourself as I do. So that’s maybe one of the reasons. I suspect you have other reasons too.”

  He must have seen something in my eyes then, something betraying as he tensed like struck for a moment and something fierce passed on his face. He cupped my face in a move that felt both possessive and protective.

  “I’ll find out someday, and don’t panic, your secrets are yours to keep and you’ll tell me yourself. You don’t really know me but once I set my eyes on something, or someone, I never give up. And, sweetheart, do I have my eyes set on you!

  His loopy self-mocking smile guided my hands to his face in a hold similar to his before I could think about what I was doing. His breath hitched, the heat between us rising to inferno.

  It was all I never let myself dream. I was too busy, no, I kept myself too busy to let my barriers down even for a moment to earn for trivial things like kisses and tender touches from another. But this was all I never imagined.

  The first touch was electrifying. The peck on the lips from the kitchen had only hinted to the softness of his lips. He tasted of oranges from the juice he drank mixed with an unknown deep spicy flagrance that could only be his unique taste. It should have been awkward, messy and hesitant. It was slow, sensual and addictive. One brush of lips, one slow lick on my lips. He waited for one breath. My tongue repeated his motion and dared to dip quickly and short between his parted lips. Somebody moaned. Me or him, didn’t matter. I was lost, dizzy, caught in his web, I felt like after one glass too much of my favorite wine. We locked gazes and time froze. A cliché maybe but true nonetheless. One second, one minute, one hour, I don’t know. When he closed the distance again, something seemed to get loose and his iron fist unclenched from the door’s frame. He put one hand on the small of my back, covering it almost completely and searing his handprint in my boiling skin like a brand. His. What would that strong hand feel on my naked skin? Would the burn be too intense to bear or too hot to resist? He lifted me against him and I shuddered in reaction. All those concrete muscles that the clothes hid from view made a perfect mattress for my head when I was overwhelmed and I was again struck by how different he was from what others thought of him. Lower still, a more peculiar hardness pressed closely in my stomach. And damnit, looks like I still had one blush in me!

  That was probably my last coherent thought before he crushed my lips in a firmer and more savage kiss that spoke of what I had unleashed inside him and started mapping my mouth with his soft bold tongue. I did that to him. Me, geeky goofy me. And I could feel it too, the stir of some craziness, some frenzy that urged me to climb up those solid muscles and get as close as I could, to climb inside him and make a nest where I would be warm, safe, protected and cared for. Surrounded by his arms, his green forest musky smell that spoke of fresh air and outdoors, under his skin…

  And then as sudden as this started I found myself staring dumbfolded at my closed door, still shaking and reeling from the experience of his hard body pressed to mine and with his taste lingering on my lips, his smell surrounding me like a blanket.

  I don’t know if I showered, I don’t remember how I got to bed (how did I even remembered I had such thing as one?) or hearing Sean get home .

  I woke up earlier than ever. I always was a night owl and for me eight o’clock could be considered the crack of dawn. I woke at seven, feeling fresh like a daisy and energized like a well recharged battery.

  With consciousness came two distinctive epiphanies.

  One - I just had my first kiss and I was still breathing (although remembering made it hard to do).

  Two - I guess I am gay.

  And strangely I didn’t have one moment of blind panic. So I’m gay for Bain. So what? I say gay for Bain because I never before noticed another’s man ass. Actually make that I never noticed another person’s anything, period. That maybe would have scared me a little. It meant that Bain had the potential to be dangerous for me. It would have if I didn’t have his hurt expression from when I messed up with my 101 questions, burned on my eyelids. His words still rang in my ears accompanying scenes of his solid support in each every of his actions from yesterday: “I’ll never do anything to hurt you.”

  I believed him. I was screwed. If I was lucky (that was my newborn vixen, talking- sho, girl!).

  Blushing by myself was a new thing for me. I wanted to be annoyed and worry that I was being to much of a loser for Bain to like but strangely enough I had the certitude that Bain would understand my reactions and more he’ll have again that soft look on his face when looking at me. I felt giddy.

  The thump coming from the kitchen made me grimace and stopped my daydreaming before I started giggling like a teenage girl with her first crush (I was becoming way too in touch with my feminine side). Guess Sean was up.

  Oh, boy.

  Chapter Three

  I shouldn’t have gotten up from the bed.

  Really now, some days you should just barricade yourself from the world and wait for the tide to pass. My morning’s energy had been all but sucked dry by my delightful meeting with Matthers. Well, that would have been enough to bring down even the most positive attitude. My breakfast heart-to wall discussion with Sean hadn’t faired better. I should have taken a cue and avoid showing my nose outside the bedroom.

  But it was Tuesday, I had classes. At that point, I had forgotten about the presidential summons.

  The classes went okay. I even managed to get some lunch- no pizza, since Bain was not making an appearance and obtaining it for me (another point in the minus column, although I wouldn’t admit under torture that I was disappointed at not seeing him). My lab proved to be more of a mess that I expected it, nothing missing but most of the equipment had to be replaced. Now if I could only figure out how to clean the mess it would be a start.

  My visit with the principal could barely be called civilized. The insinuations…huh, better not dwell on those. If I were younger and more impressionable, an attitude like that would have sent me running to repent for my sin of homosexuality. Oh, he was polite, cutting politeness. Made all the right noises, very concerned about a promising young man like myself. Bah. Then he started on Bain and his type. I wonder how I restrained from shoving his anti-gayness down his throat. Not to start about his snobbism, the dude thought himself as royalty or something. Suffice to say he wasn’t the first moron I’ve had to listen ramble, so the practice I had got me through the half hour of pure torture.

  To put a lid on my worse to wear mood and crappy day, I returned to my office only to find a note from Bain. Figured that I would watch for a glimpse of him all day and miss seeing him in favor o
f spending quality time with my one and only self-righteous principal Matthers. The note still put a smile on my lips if only at seeing his scrawl-like writing. His writing could easily substitute for a doctor’s writing. I got the gist of it after guessing more than reading it and my day brightened considerably. I had a date. My first date! After abstaining from jumping up and down or having another run-for-the-hills moment and I calmed down, of course I started daydreaming. I won’t say about what even if medieval monks should come and employ their confessional tactics on me. I could withstand pulled out nails, I could not withstand putting in words my first x-rated fantasies ever.

  Now I was running late. As always. My watch was showing 5 PM for the last hour or so. That’s why I don’t do watches. Sean was gonna get it bad for this. Didn’t he know I couldn’t live without my cell? I was practically in a committed relation with that thing.

  I’m not surprised that I didn’t notice anything in particular. I’m surprised I did notice eventually. I’m a bit… distracted. A tiny bit.

  Ok. A lot. Actually if you look in the dictionary under the word airhead, you’ll probably find my picture. Hey, at least I know my shortcomings!

  The shouting didn’t acknowledge in my mind. No. What made me freeze was the quiet grunt of pain and the distinct sound of fists connecting with flesh.

  Straight at my right, behind a lush bush of some ornamental thing, err plant, although it looked like something from the Shinning, some thing was moving.

  I’m not a confrontational person, so I may have hesitated for a second there. I’m not proud of myself, but well, you got to understand that at five feet six and after an adolescence of portraying the classic geek (put on top of that my always running mouth) you start to learn how to avoid fists… ugh… confrontations.

  What I saw made my blood boil. You don’t want to mess with me when I’m pissed of. I may be small, or more likely the other three guys were a bit on the large side, but I’m mean. And did I forget to mention that I earned my black belt two years ago? I rarely remember it aside from when I do my warming exercises every day (when I remember) but now my brain was giving me tactic options to choose from. Did I want to break some bones or just bruise them good?

  Anyway, behind that bush-thing, three guys, which I’m not very surprised to say that I knew, were kicking and swearing at a fourth one, who was covering the best he could on the ground. Astor Kenneth, Billy Joels (yeah, I usually snicker behind my hand when I read the attendance list) and Geoffrey Matthers (observe the name and connect the appropriate dots). I did not know who the unfortunate fourth guy was.

  “Fucking faggot! We’ll teach respect to your betters!”

  Teach you to respect. Uh, why did I bother with these guys again? Youths like these ones made me regret ever wanting to work as a teach.

  “Billy, pull his pants off. Maybe we need to show him one thing or two. He wants it, don’t you faggot?”

  I coughed in my fist and gulped when all three pairs of eyes glued to my face. The kid did not move at all and I was starting to see red. Literally, since the kid’s arms were all bloodied and what other skin I could see hadn’t faired any better. I quickly averted my eyes and gulped again trying to maintain a vertical position on the now spinning ground. Looking at the three assholes quickly focused my attention on the important things. Like the fact that contrary to my expectations I was quite calm and almost frozen in my standoffish position of newly found “save the abused” role I was playing.

  Astor, which was usually the quiet type, but obviously also the head of the group, turned his malicious gaze on the unmoving kid and then with a surprisingly smug and calm look returned his eyes to my face, somehow managing to look down his nose at me although we were roughly the same height.

  “Well, hey there teach. Not your usually place is it now?”

  Huh. This guy had the mob routine copied to perfection. In a couple of years he probably would make a perfect gang leader or a successful corporate executive.

  “Why Astor, fancy meeting you here. And your company.”

  “Yes, well, we’re not really here. Or maybe you are now eating your lunch in your pretty little lab, are you now teach?”

  Yup, I was definitely seeing red, different kinds of red with varied nuances. The other two assholes were starting to fidget, probably their instinct survival in their little brains warning them about danger.

  “Maybe I am.”

  The kid on the ground cringed and tensed his shoulders.

  “But then again, maybe I decided to take a walk through the gardens and I stumbled upon three assholes beating up a poor kid.”

  Astor had the gut to laugh in my face.

  “Don’t be stupid. You didn’t see anything of the sort. My father would be vastly disappointed if that was the case. And I suspect the principal also.”

  Oh, I really really hated this kid. He so reminded me of Frank Sefrin from seventh grade. Only this punk was so full of himself that he was quite nauseating. The pretentious speech was just the cherry on top. And to believe that this nineteen years old douchebag would probably end up running for Senate in a couple of decades. Well, that was believable. And he would probably fit right in with the other douchebags up there.

  “And I suspect I don’t give a damn.”

  This seemed to take his attitude down a notch. Probably , he wasn’t used to anybody contradicting him or having the nerve to raise the tone at his Majesty The King Of Assholes.

  I do have to give him points for the quick recover.

  “You really think you should reconsider.”

  A flick of his hand made the two goons approach me warily.

  Jesus, who did he think he was? The Godfather?

  I smirked and frowned when I looked down at my white pants. They were my favorite pair, a gift from my little brother, who thought and I quote ”you have the fashion sense of a retarded monkey and should be prohibited from doing your own shopping for fear of shocking and marking for life the sensibilities of youths you teach”. So now I provided the money and he was doing the deed. And lately also the laundry. Uh.

  “Maybe you two should think twice before you listen to your boss there.”

  They frowned and sputtered. Typical. Unfortunately I only succeeded in making them approach me faster, obviously more confident now that I was trying to actually avoid conflict. The blond lanky one, Billy , made a move to grab my arm. I let him and grimaced. My arm would surely be bruised tomorrow. What did guys these days eat anyway? Spinach like Popey? Kryptonite?

  Now should I land a hit too or wait until they strike first? Lucky for me the decision was taken from my hands(yuppy yay, I must have stepped in a pile of shit on my way to school, so lucky of me) when the other buffed teenager handed me a blow in my stomach, making me double and gag for a moment, followed by a pretty dizzying fist in my face. That’s it. I snapped.

  I won’t bore you with special effects, it’s enough to say that I imitated Jackie Chan or Bruce Lee, whatever- meaning I don’t remember exactly what my body did, so I can’t reproduce it in words- and soon I was standing toes to toes with Astor, administrating my perfected deadly glare. I was pleased to notice that the fucker was stone still (except for the most pleasing trembling hands). Frankly, I don’t know who was more surprised: me or him. Usually I was a very easy-going person (cover word for a wuss who let people step on him) and didn’t stand up or stand out. Now I was Jet Li. I kinda liked it. I guess all those action movies and games are really good for “building up” an attitude, not to mention the ten years of karate. Who would have guessed?

  Popey and Superidiot were groaning on the ground. I didn’t know if it was because of the shock of being meat grinded by a person in the five foot area of height or because they had hurt something. I was madly hoping for the later even if I knew I would regret it later.

  I straightened my geek glasses (yeah, I wore my glasses today, figures I would loose a lens before my first date with Bain) and imitated his “down the nose”
glare. I must have been doing a pretty good imitation since he seemed to shrink in front of me.

  “Now, do you have anything else to say? Because if you do, Principal Matthers will be surely glad to hear it.”

  He sputtered and backed up a step.

  “You can’t do this? (Was that a question?) Do you know who I am! ( Now , that was definitely an exclamation.)”

  My eyebrows were trying to meet my hair, which is not to difficult since I’m sorely in need of a cut. This kid was unbelievable.

  “A moron? An asshole? A soon-to-be-expelled? Take your pick.”

  I pondered for a moment how I should proceed and pulled out my phone intending to call for the guard or somebody to escort them to the office. I did not want to let them out of my sight. And I hoped Bain will wait a little longer and not think I stood him up. That would be strike two against me after the other stood up from yesterday. Not to mention the other complications…

  “What the hell is happening here?”

  Huh. Bain Conner. Think of the devil…- not that he had been far from my mind for a moment today.

  My not-to-be-spoken-aloud thoughts flashed before my eyes.

  My ears were red. This must be my red day.

  When I risked a glance, I groaned. Behind him was my little not so little brother. Smirking. This will become teasing (name for verbal torture) material for the next week or so, I just knew it.

  “Bain, Sean… uh Carter.”

  Shit. I always address my students by their last name.

  Ok, so maybe Bain has been an exception but I couldn’t afford to slip when it concerned my brother. That information was under wraps. I didn’t want to be linked to the infamous Carter name.

  Bain was frowning at me now while glancing suspiciously between me and Sean.

  Double shit. He’ll connect the dots sooner or later.

  “Do you think you can land a hand?”