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Luxemburger Queen -- Part 4 Unexpected Incident The next weeks passed with Brian avoiding Frank whenever it was possible. Sure, he couldn't get around seeing him in the drama club, but aside from that, he managed to sneak his way around the older boy on almost every occasion. School was annoying as usual, his classmates got on his nerves as usual and his parents weren't happy with his grades - as usual. Nevertheless, the play kept Brian alive and prevented him from freaking out in a lot of situations. He had a lead role. He wasn't going to ruin this chance, and he was eager to go on stage at the end of the year to blow the audience away with his performance. They were going to adore him. They'd better! Apart from this, life went on rather calmly. Stuart dropped by for a visit, which was really nice. Michelle had decided to accept the fact that she would have to kiss him publicly, probably because she was planning to become a professional actress. Brian had overheard her talking to her best friend, something about "starting to practice to kiss nerds". The basketball team left him alone most of the time since he was clever enough to keep out of their way. They had lost their important game, which didn't really effect their moods in a positive way. Stefan especially was extremely grumpy and seemed to have had his frown attached to his face by plastic surgery because it never faded. Basically, the days passed without anything extraordinary happening. It was on a Tuesday afternoon, right before the gym class, that a very pensive Brian ran into Frank, who had been waiting for him in front of the gym. "We need to talk, Bri, please," he said shyly. Brian eyed him coldly. "I don't think so, really." "Come on, it won't hurt you!" Frank said with a pleading look. "Just talk. Please ." "I wouldn't know what to talk about with you." "Anything. Your parents. The play. Whatever." "I can talk about my parents, the play or whatever with a lot of people, why should I do it with you?" snapped Brian, trying to sneak around Frank, but the older boy blocked his way. "About what happened the other day then," he muttered hoarsely. "Please, Bri." Brian sighed. Frank just looked at him. "All right!" hissed Brian at last, angry to have been talked into agreement. "After drama club tomorrow, five minutes, no more than that, and you'd better have a point in your talk, okay? I won't be wasting my time when I could use it to do something important, like being bored or so, okay?" "Okay," Frank replied calmly. Brian glared at him and then pushed him aside to enter the gym. In the changing room, he sneaked into the most quiet corner as usual, but contrary to his routine he wasn't left alone. Stefan, Christian and Devin walked up to him. "What did the fag want from you?" asked Christian with a dirty grin. Brian glowered at him. "None of your business, really, but if by 'fag' you mean Frank, well, we're both in the drama club and need to study our roles." "Drama club, of course!" Devin grinned. "They should rename it 'fag club'". "Cute couple, you and Frank," added Christian. Brian stared at them, burning with silent fury, and hoped he wasn't blushing; after all, there had only been this one hint of a kiss and some fooling around with make-up . "What's wrong with you?" he asked therefore. "Do you guys fancy him? Are you jealous? Or are you just sexually frustrated?" To Brian's luck, the teacher entered the room just then so Christian and Devin chose to let things be for the moment, but only after being convinced by a very sullen glance from Stefan, so instead of flushing Brian's head in the toilet they only changed clothes. During class, though, Devin managed to trip him twice while Stefan 'accidentally' ran into him, bruising his ribs, but then those were things Brian was used to anyway. Brian was the last one to emerge out of the shower after lesson and most of the others had already left when he came back into the changing room, towel around his waist, hair dripping. In fact, nobody seemed to be there anymore, except for Christian, who was rummaging in Brian's bag. "Hey, what the fuck do you think you're doing?" hissed Brian, trying to push Christian away from his things. "Got any change, Molko? I need cigarettes." Brian stared at the taller boy. "You were trying to steal my money, you prick?" he said with disbelief and laughed roughly. "Then why should I give you any?" "Cause otherwise I might just take it," Christian answered in a low, dangerous voice. Brian felt fury welling up inside him. "Well, tough luck on you!" he grunted. "Cause I don't have any money with me, so just leave me alone, will you?" He pushed Christian away and stuffed his things back into his bag. Christian just stood there, watching, saying nothing, wearing a small frown - he didn't seem to know what to do with this insolent loser who dared to come to class without money. Finally, he moved, extended a hand and pulled the towel off Brian's waist. "HEY!" Christian grinned. "What, does the little queer have a problem with exposing himself?" Brian stared at him coldly. "Someone as keen on looking at naked guys as you should be more careful with terms like 'queer'." Christian's eyes narrowed with anger. "Listen, Molko, I'm sick of this kind of talk!" "So am I! Why can't you morons just leave me alone? Even if I WERE fucking Frank, it'd be none of your business!" "Are you?" asked Christian nastily. "Of course NOT!" Brian made an attempt to get his towel back, but failed, and Christian was blocking the way to his clothes. He felt insecure and trapped in this corner he always chose, now he wished that today he'd chosen another place. "Listen," he said, trying to make it sound friendly and subordinate instead of angry and frightened, "we both know you're the big bully and I'm the wimp, so just give me my towel back and leave me alone, you've illustrated your point, you're the hero, great." Christian grinned. "First say you're a fag!" Brian rolled his eyes and sighed. Childish games! "Okay, I'm a fag," he said annoyed. "Now leave me alone!" Christian sniggered just as Brian had expected. This guy was about as mature as a seven-year-old child. Brian waited for the last witless boasting remark that'd inevitably come before Christian would let go off his victim. Instead, he only saw Christian's sudden movement and then felt his wrists clasped together by very large and strong hands. "What the fuck, let me go!" he complained, trying to struggle, but Christian just pushed him against the wall, grinning down at him. "Let me the fuck go!" Brian hissed, panic rising in him. Here he was, naked, alone, trapped by a guy twice as large and heavy as himself who was displeased because he hadn't been able to steal any money from him. But, again, his expectations weren't fulfilled: instead of beating him senseless, Christian clasped both his wrists into one hand and ran the fingers of the other hand across Brian's cheek and down his neck. The nasty grin had faded to something else, something softer, more thoughtful - something close to excitement, maybe. Brian stood stock still. He didn't know what to think or do. Christian's fingers slowly moved down his chest, gliding over the nipple and then further down. Brian heard himself drawing in a deep, deep breath and was furious about it. He couldn't be enjoying this! This was Christian, for fuck's sake! The moron! The grip around his wrists had weakened, but Brian couldn't force himself to wrench his arms free. Instead, he swallowed heavily, avoiding to look into Christian's face. He felt he was blushing, and when Christian moved his hand further and further down, something else was going on with his body as well . "You like this?" he heard Christian whisper. He chose not to answer, but then he realized he'd closed his eyes, which probably was all answer Christian needed. The fingers moved over his bellybutton, hesitated for a moment and then continued their way. When they reached his cock, Brian heard himself moan. He leaned back against the wall, breathing heavily, eyes shut tightly. Christian gently stroked him, confusing Brian - he had never expected this, not from Christian, not so kind and most certainly not today or on any other day, and most of all not from Christian . He felt the vein in his throat throbbing heavily with his quick pulse as Christian continued caressing his erection. He realized he was whimpering quietly with pleasure, which made blood shoot into his face with shame. He opened his eyes. Christian didn't meet his gaze since his eyes were locked on Brian's nether parts, following the movement of his hands. Brian realized that Christian didn't look as bad as he thought. Once you got used to the size of the guy, he was quite okay - a bit too far on the tall-and-muscular-side for his taste, but not ugly at all. Christian let go of his wrists now and used his other hand to stroke Brian's thigh so that Brian felt his knees giving in. He sank against Christian's chest, leaned against him, closed his eyes again and let him continue his work. It was great. Even better than great. The best. Little shivers passed through his body, and he put his arms around Christian and pulled him closer. He looked up at the tall boy, then rose on tiptoes, face up, eyes half closed, lips searching for Christian's lips . brushing against them . kissing them . With a sudden jerk, Christian pulled free. His face was red, red with anger or shame, probably both. "You filthy little fag!" he spat, punching his fist against Brian's cheek who was set stumbling a few paces. "What the fuck do you think you're doing here, huh?" Tiny dots were dancing in front of Brian's eyes as he tried to steady himself and stared at Christian, confused, hurt in more than only a physical way. "What?" was all he was able to whisper. Christian towered over him, positively fuming with rage. "Don't you ever dare do that again, queer, or I'll rip your fucking balls off and shove them into your mouth for you to chew! Get that, nancy boy?" "Dare what?" Brian muttered, absolutely lost. "Kiss you?" Another smack, this time on the other side of Brian's face, which was burning with pain now. "Everything, dumb-ass! What the fuck has gotten into you? I'm not one of your stupid prissy friends, I don't fall for this kind of thing!" "But you started!" Brian said helplessly. He managed to duck the third blow Christian stared at him, exasperated, angry and cold. "Next time you try to play tricks on me you're a goner, Molko!" With that, he rammed his elbow into Brian's chest and stormed out of the gym. Half an hour later, Brian slumped onto his bed, not knowing how he'd managed to drag himself home. He felt dead inside. What had happened? How had it happened? He closed his eyes and could still feel Christian's fingers sliding over his body. But at the same time, he could also feel the pain that was clinging to his face. He got up and stared into his Jack Daniel's mirror. Indeed, there was a bruise beginning to show where Christian's second blow had hit him. Brian touched it and winced. Pain. He looked into the mirror and saw a small and very confused boy with a bruised cheek and eyes that were filling with tears. "I hate you!" he whispered, not sure whether it was directed at Christian or the boy in the mirror. He went back to the bed and buried his face in the pillows, sobbing silently, wondering how he had managed to get himself in such a stupid situation, regretting the attempt to kiss Christian and fearing the worst for the days to come. Christian would most certainly want revenge for this - he had exposed himself to Brian in a way that he hadn't wanted to; he'd make sure Brian kept his mouth shut about it. So stupid! As if Brian was planning on telling each and every person that he'd had some fumbling around with Christian! More tears ran into the pillow, sad, desperate tears. He'd so much wanted more than what had happened today. Why did Christian have to stop with it? They could have had such a great time together, but that imbecile . that closet-case . that fucking idiot . Brian let out another sob and a curse before freeing himself from the pillows. "Fuck you!" he muttered hoarsely, wiping his face. He walked to the shelf with his records and pulled out one of them without looking at what it was, put it onto the player, set the needle to a random spot on the vinyl and sat down on the bed. Morrissey's melancholic voice filled the room. Ah, so he'd chosen a Smiths record then. /. so we go outside and we gravely read the stones, all those people, all those lives ./ A smile crept onto his face. Good choice! He closed his eyes and slumped onto his back. /. with loves, and hates, and passions just like mine, they were born and then they lived and then they died ./ Prev | Next Home |