This is un-beta'd crap that for me is called, "writer's block cure." Seriously, I've had the worst case ever for the past month or so....all mistakes are mine. (There are probably a lot lol.) That being said, this is my first time doing slash so um...yeah...

Disclaimer: Don't own. Don't sue.

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You walk in and sit down in your usual seat. You look around. He’s not here yet. Your crush. At least, you think it’s a crush. It probably is. You don’t know him that well.

You have to keep yourself from smiling when he walks in. You do that every day. You don’t know what it is about him that is just so goddamn good. Maybe it’s the fact that his hair is so…rebellious compared to the other kids. It’s red with the tips jet black. You’re sure he’s gotten in trouble more times then you can count for it. The other kids simply give up after one try with something like that when they get in trouble but not him. Maybe it’s the fact that he can dress like a normal teenager and look so damn fuckable (well, that’s probably because you like him). Maybe it’s his artist skills.

Ah, yes. His artist skills. He’s light years better then you. If you had half the talent he had you’d be fuckin’ Picasso. You don’t know what he is, though. He has his own style you’ve never seen before.

He usually draws different things each class. Due to the fact your actual art teacher is most likely going to be gone the rest of the year, you have a substitute. Mr. Reed doesn’t make you do much so he draws. You watch. Sometimes you write. Sometimes you catch him trying to look at your writing. Most of the time, he catches you trying to look at his drawings.

He sits down and you almost melt into a puddle. He usually doesn’t talk much. The only time he really ever talks is if someone comes over to him and says how good his artwork is. All he’ll say to that is, “Thanks.” Sometimes he’ll just smile. One time you said it and he blushed.

Mr. Reed tells you to do whatever we want as long as you hand something in at the end of class. You smile. That means he’s going to draw something of his own today.

You and he walk over to the table to get paper. Your hands brush against each other. You bite your lip. He blushes. You blush. You go back to your seats.

He immediately starts drawing. You have to keep yourself from watching him. You have to hand something in. If it’s complete and utter shit, then so be it. You don’t really care as long as you have a grade higher then a C.

You start to think of what to draw. You tap your pencil against the paper in thought. Most of the time, you draw something dumb like a sunset or something else cliché.

You decide to draw a beach house. Every once in a while you look over at his drawing and watch what he’s doing. You’re confused. He’s not drawing what he usually draws.

There are two boys. One of which is holding the other up against the wall. Their faces are so close, you’re sure if you were in this situation you’d feel the other person’s breath on your neck. They look flustered. You cock your head to the side. Why would they look flustered?

Your heart almost stops at what he has written above the picture:

There’s a fine line between love and hate

And I don’t mind

Just let me say that I like that

I like that

You furrow your eyebrows and try to figure out what he means. You think it has something to do with the flustered look on the boys’ faces. Then it hits you when he starts to draw a crowd of people around the boys.

They’re supposed to be in a fight. When one of the boys pushed the other up against the wall, both got aroused and were utterly confused about it. You can almost here the chanting in the background of the crowd around them.

Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!

Then you can see their confused faces when neither boy attacks. You can almost hear the footsteps as the other students walk away, uninterested in a fight that’s not happening.

You can almost hear the harsh breathing of the two boys as both struggle to keep their composure and not attack the other. You don’t think “attacking” has anything to do with fists though.

You have to keep yourself from smirking as he starts to shade in a faint blush on one of the boys. You assume he’s going to do the other too.

You look at your own work. It took about five minutes. It’s complete and utter shit (just like you thought) but you don’t care at the moment. You’re just trying to figure out why in the hell he of all people would draw something like that.

For one, you assumed he was straight due to his previous drawings. Boy and a girl on a bench kissing. Sometimes a boy and a girl, falling on top of each other; both of them blushing.

“That’s really good.” You say before you know you’re saying it. He looks up and says a quick, “Thanks.” You swear you see him smirk but you think it’s just your fantasies coming to school with you.

Hey, it happens.

He looks back down and continues on his drawing. You raise an eyebrow when he draws the door to a “Men’s” bathroom to the right of them. You have to keep yourself from laughing hysterically.

He doesn’t draw it but you can see the boys making a mad dash to the bathroom after they’re sure all the students are gone and the boy up against the wall getting fucked senseless.

You start to get bored so you take out your iPod. Mr. Reed doesn’t care. He never does. He lets everyone pretty much do what they want.

You turn it on and go to a random song. You smile when Let the Bodies Hit the Floor comes on.

You write your name on your paper and take it up to Mr. Reed. He looks it over and gives you a B. Hey, you think, it’s better then what I thought I’d get.

You walk back to your seat and crumple up your paper. You throw it in the direction of the garbage. You miss. You groan and force yourself to get up and throw it out.

When you sit back down you see he’s done with drawing and looking it over. As always, it’s amazing and better then anything you could attempt to do even if you did try. Not that you would in this class anyway.

For the rest of the class you steal glances at him every chance you get while listening to your iPod. Some of them not exactly good for staring at him.

What I would give to have you look in my direction

And I’d give my life to somehow attract your attention

And I touch myself like it’s somebody else

Thoughts of you are tattooed on my mind

Let me show you…

I can’t stop thinking about you

And I can’t stop thinking about you

You never call until I do

I can’t stop thinking about you…

You have to stop yourself from jumping him here and now.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Class is over.

You and he stay to help clean up.

It’s the end of the day and you have nowhere else to be. Apparently neither does he because he stays.

“I’m gonna go boys. Can you stay here by yourselves?” Mr. Reed asks. Again, you swear you can see him smirk but you think it’s your dick playing over your brain and he shakes his head. You follow suit. “Okay. Thanks for helping me clean up guys. See you tomorrow. Mike, keep making great art. Chester, try harder.”

You nod. He nods. Mr. Reed leaves.

You have to look away from him. Now that the teacher’s gone, there’s no one to stop you from jumping him.

You don’t think you’d be able to resist the urge if you even looked at him.

He just looks so fuckable.

Either that or you’re just horny from the dream you had when you fell asleep. You look down. Nope. He’s just so goddamn fuckable.

“So, you really like my drawings?” He asks breaking the what felt like hours of silence.

You don’t look at him. “Yeah.” You say.

“I don’t understand why everyone likes my drawings. I’m not that good.” He says.

Before you know what you’re doing, you turn around and practically scream, “You are so good. You’re fuckin’ light years better then everyone in this class. Especially me.” He smirks. You take a deep breath.

He walks closer to you. You gulp. “I think you could be great if you just tried harder.” He says. You laugh, a little hysterically, and smack the table for good measure.

“That’s good. I’m horrible at anything having to do with art.” You say.

“I’ve read some of your writing. That’s art and you’re pretty good at that.” All you can do is stare at him.

This is the most he’s said to you since you met him and he’s fucking complimenting you. You have to resist the urge to pinch yourself in case this is a dream.

I’m still in class, you think, this is just a dream. He moves even closer to you. A wet dream, you think. You really hope you’re still at home dreaming and not in school. That would be the most humiliating experience ever.

His breath hovers mere inches from your face and you close your eyes. You bite your lip to keep from moaning as he talks. “I know you want me, Chester. I know you stare at me during class. Most of the time, it’s at my lips. Would you like to kiss me?” He’s teasing you. You want to kill him for it.

Instead, you answer him. “Y-Yes.” Your voice comes out weak and shaky.

He chuckles making you moan lowly and mentally cursing yourself for it.

“Then why don’t you?” He whispers and pulls away slightly.

You stare at him for a second taking in what he just said.

He must realize you’re too stunned to do anything because he grabs the back of your neck and pulls you flush against him, lips smashing together. You moan at the intensity and when he starts to kiss you, you don’t do anything at first.

You start to kiss him back and-- Jesus Christ-- you’ve never tasted anything better in your life. You want more though. You swipe your tongue along his lips requesting access. He grants your request and opens his mouth slightly letting you enter.

Your tongue against his sends fire raging throughout your entire body. You moan as you drag your tongue against his.

The kiss becomes more and more passionate as time passes as you try to taste each other more fully. The kiss turns almost bruising as he pulls away, both of you panting.

He backs you up to one of the tables and leans over on you and lightly kisses your jaw line making you shudder underneath him. He smiles and starts to kiss your neck. A moan instantly escapes you and you feel him grin against your flesh before going back to his kissing.

He nibbles on your neck making a mark. By now you’re panting and so unbelievably turned on. The pressure in your pants is almost painful.

He goes back up to your face and kisses you passionately. His hands find the bottom of your shirt and you lift up your arms breaking the kiss so he can pull it over your head throwing it to an unknown place on the floor. You do the same to his.

His hands start to roam on your chest making you whine needing release so bad. His breath against your skin is torture as he whispers, “What do you want, Ches?”

You buck your hips up causing your semi-hard cocks to grind together through the fabric of your pants causing you both to moan loudly. He doesn’t take that as answer though. “C’mon. Tell me, baby.” You almost cum right here and now at the sound of his voice calling you, “Baby.”

He starts to move his hips against yours grinding against you slowly. You throw your head back and growl. Your breath comes out in rapid gasps as he speeds up, dry humping you through your pants. You want, no you need, more.

“I want…” It’s hard to speak against the friction of your aching cock.

“Fuck me!” Ah, there we go. He stops causing you to groan is disappointment but you get impossibly even harder as he starts to pull your jeans down along your boxers.

You look up and see him lick his lips when he sees your hard cock leaking from the tip.

By now, you’re both on the table. He’s on top of you, his face mere centimeters from your aching member. He holds your hips down causing you to glare at him.

He smirks and snakes his tongue out and licks the dripping liquid off the tip before plunging down, taking your whole erection in his mouth in one go. You scream and tangle your hands in his hair.

You fling your head back as he starts to bob his head up and down, still swirling his tongue around. You refuse to believe he has never done this before. Your breathing rate increases and you’re constantly moaning his name as he sucks harder and harder, bring you closer and closer to your climax.

He deep-throats you can you scream his name releasing your seed into his mouth. He swallows it all and wipes his mouth before crawling back up your body, kissing you, letting you taste yourself on your tongue.

You feel his erection poking your thigh through his jeans. You tease him by floating your fingers around his thighs, so close, yet so far away. He groans and bucks his hips trying to get you to hurry up.

You un-zip his pants and slowly drag them down along with his boxers.

Your eyes go wide when his cock comes into light, pre-cum dripping from the tip. You can’t wait to have him inside you.

He smirks before sucking on one of his fingers. He moves it down to your opening and pushes it in. You close your eyes and take a deep breath at the incredibly new feeling. You nod your head and he adds another finger and moves them in a scissoring motion stretching you out. He moves around a bit trying to find your spot.

Suddenly, a huge jolt of pleasure courses through your body.

You gasp loudly and clutch at nothing below you. He smirks and removes his fingers. You groan at the loss.

He cups his hands hand spits into it using that and his pre-cum as lubrication. His facial expressions as he touches himself are almost enough to make you cum.

He removes his hands from his cock and instructs you to wrap your legs around his waist. You do and he positions himself above you and asks, “You sure you wanna do this?”

You thought it was just a quick fuck but when you look up in his eyes you see something you’ve never really seen before. You sigh shakily and think for a second. Do you want this? Fuck yes!

“Yes. I’m sure.” You say. He nods and starts to slowly push into you. It hurts. It hurts so fucking bad. You feel like you’re ripping in two and nothing’s easing the pain. If anything it gets worse as he pushes in.

He stops when he’s in all the way and kisses away your burning tears. He pulls away slightly and asks, “You ok?”

“Y-Yes.” You manage to choke out.

Slowly but surely the pain begins to fade and you nod signaling him to move. He pulls out of you before pushing back in with force. His breathing gets deeper and you’re getting even more turned on by the site of him.

His face is contorted into a pleasurable grimace and you can tell he’s struggling not to fuck you into the table.

You moan painfully as he thrusts again and scratch your nails down his back. You beg for him to find your spot because the pain is becoming too much to take.

Your eyes go wide and you scream loudly as he thrusts again at a different angle. He immediately stops and starts to apologize but you stop him. “Oh…my…fucking…GOD…Do...that…again.” You pant. He pulls out and slams back into you. You scream loudly in pleasure and fling your head back. “Shit Mike! Faster!”

He obliges and starts to move faster and harder going deeper each time. You cry out in surprise when one of his hands finds its way around your dick and starts to stroke you in time with his thrusts. “Yes…oh god yes!” You scream, tears starting to fall from your eyes. This time from the most intense pleasure you’ve ever felt. You almost pass out from the pleasure.

Deeper and deeper, harder and harder until you and he are no longer capable of coherent speech and are reduced to screams, grunts, moans, and growls.

You feel a knot tightening in your stomach and you know you’re close. You open your mouth to warn him but all that comes out is a scream of his name as you climax all over his hand and your stomachs. You think you black out for a second from the best orgasm of your life.

Your muscles tighten around his cock and he gasps your name before releasing himself inside you, warming your entire body.

He falls fully on top of you and for what feel like hours all you can hear is your and his panting before you break the silence.

“Wow…” You breathe.

“Uh-huh.” He says. He lifts his head off your chest and looks deep into your eyes before leaning down and capturing your lips in a sweet, loving kiss, your tongues playing lazily in his mouth. You pull away and smile at him. He smiles back.

“That was…amazing.” He says.

“It was.” You say stroking his hair with your fingertips. He sighs contently, closes his eyes, and rests his head back on your chest.

“We should probably go before we get caught.” He says after a few minutes. You completely forgot you were in school.

“Oh. Yeah, probably.” You say. He chuckles slightly and removes himself from you causing you both to groan at the over sensitivity. He rolls off you and sighs deeply.

You get off the table along with him and retrieve all your clothes making sure you don’t mix anything up.

When you’re fully dressed there’s an awkward silence. “I…I’ll see you tomorrow, I guess.” He says shyly.

“Um…yeah. Bye Mike.” You say just as bashful.

You let him walk out first. When you’re sure he’s gone, you pinch yourself to make sure you’re done dreaming. Sure, you just went through the most pain and pleasure of your life but that can happen in a fantasy. Only the pinching yourself trick works.

You smile. It hurts.

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Songs:

Breaking Benjamin- Diary of Jane

Maroon 5- Can't Stop

Um, yeah. That sucked. *sigh* It didn't fully cure my writer's block but whatever. Review lol?

Author's Note:

OK, I HAVE SOME NEWS. I HAVE JUST GOTTEN ACCEPTED TO THE HIGH SCHOOL I'VE WANTED TO GO TO SINCE THE BEGINNING OF THIS YEAR SO I NEED TO WORK MY ASS OF TO KEEP MY SPOT. BESIDES THE FACT, I'VE HAD OTHER DISTRACTIONS LATELY TOO I DON'T REALLY WANNA TALK ABOUT. LET'S JUST SAY IT'S BAD SHIT. THAT BEING SAID, I SHOULD SAY I DON'T THINK I'M GOING TO CONTINUE TAKE ME HOME. I JUST...DON'T HAVE ANY MOTIVATION ANYMORE. IT'S PARTLY MY FAULT BUT IT'S ALSO A FEW OTHER PEOPLES' FAULTS. *SIGH* I'M REAL SORRY. I WISH I COULD CHANGE IT...BUT I CAN'T. =[ I'LL WRITE A ONE-SHOT ONCE IN A WHILE THOUGH MAYBE...=]

No~One