I'm sorry I didn't have time to proofread! Blame my psychology teacher :p Okay. So I kind of lied before. Remember how I said Justin and I have always been easy targets for bullying at school? The truth is, and for once I’m not saying something just to be mean, Justin’s always been the easy target. I’m sorry, but it’s true. He’s notorious for owning every Nike shoe ever made, and wears clothes that were popular in Junior High. Like…Old Navy t-shirts and stuff. You know what I mean. Plus, he has the whole artsy thing down to a well…art; not to mention he comes off as a roaring, flaming, queer. It must be because he is way too sweet to be a straight guy, much too caring, understanding, sensitive, loyal, loving, affectionate…and let’s not forget his gorgeous looks – NO straight guy can look that hot. Oh my God. I’m gushing. Brian Kinney does not gush. I’m not in love with Justin. I’m not. Not!!! Where the fuck was I? Oh yeah, Justin’s the target. Hence, the reason why I get picked on. Because I’m friends with the ‘faggot’ which automatically makes me a ‘faggot,’ which is actually ironic ‘cause I am a Goddamn cocksucker! But you would never know it. I play soccer, all the chicks fucking worship me and I don’t listen to N*sync or Brittney Spears – like Justin does. Christ, he sings along with the lyrics. Not to mention our upbringings were – are – completely different. Craig, his dad, is a rich, sophisticated, shmoozy architecture loving martini-sipping son of a bitch while in contrast my father is an Irish abusive drunk asshole with an obsession over rugby. Jennifer, his mother is a member of the PTA, attends her son of a bitch husband’s martini parties and buys her precious blonde angel anything he desires. I’m not jealous. Brian Kinney doesn’t DO jealous. So why am I telling YOU all of this? Because; I just plucked my best friends cherry, fucked him up the ass doggy style and now he’s getting dressed in ‘the Jr. High clothes,’ incessantly chatting about how tomorrow is Valentine’s day. I mean come ON, isn’t it common knowledge that Valentine’s day is just an excuse to fuck and slap a romantic label on it? Well, I don’t need an excuse to fuck. I also do not need an excuse to eat Goddamn chocolate, candy hearts or any of that bullshit. That’s what it is; bullshit. “Brian? Brian are you listening to me?” Justin’s trap is moving so I nod. Mmm…he’s only halfway dressed, wearing a t-shirt and adorable white boxer-briefs. Mmmmm. I did NOT just say adorable. “I need to go to the mall to pick up some stuff, you’re coming, right? You know how Daph is…” Ah, Miss Chanders. I swear to God she wishes she was a gay man. “….last year I forgot Saint Patrick’s day and she freaked out….” Justin’s ass is looking really, really good as he bends over, peeling on his jeans. I’m totally zoning out here, hearing fragments of what he’s saying. You should watch his lips when he talks, it has got to be one of the most erotic things I have ever seen. They are soft, delicious, sweet, and seem to know exactly where to kiss, lick or suck. “Um Brian? Briiiaaaaaaaaaaan hellllllloooooooo,” Justin waves a hand in front of my probably dazed and confused expression. I snap out of it. “Huh? The mall? Yeah, sure, whatever,” a thought hits me, “You aren’t gonna buy Valentine’s shit, are you?” “So what if I do,” he swings his backpack over his shoulder, “you may hate – everything, but I don’t. C’mon, hurry up,” he picks my wallet up off the ground and throws it at me. I catch it. “Alright,” now I’m getting dressed, “but please, Justin fucking please don’t try anything romantic with me.” He puts on this cockier than shit smile, sticking his tongue out at me, “I can do whatevvveerrr I want!” Skipping, yes I know, he really does skip; he leaves the room and I follow suit. Neither of us has a car to drive, or licenses for that matter, so we’re stuck walking a couple blocks to the bus stop. Fucking Fantastic. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - So here we are, twenty minutes later in Claire’s Boutique. Embarrassed, does not even begin to describe how I feel standing around in this place. Full of globs of pre-teen girls giggling and gossiping – drives me fucking insane! The only reason I agreed to come into this hell hole is because Justin insisted on buying his younger sister, Molly, something for Valentine’s. “What do you think of this?” He asks, holding up a tiara studded with diamonds. “Ha,” I take it from his grasp and plop it on his head, “you’re the only real princess I know, sunshine.” “Then that makes you the biggest queen ever,” he says, mockingly adjusting his crown. He continues the act, strutting over to the cash register to pay, and I must say putting on quite the show. I laugh and turn away, feeling the urge for a smoke. “Brian?” Holy cum buckets. I know that voice. It’s my bitch of a sister, Claire, and her ogling group of cronies. Turning around, I plaster a sarcastic smile across my lips. “Claire, what a fucking surprise.” For some reason unbeknownst to me, when I start speaking her friends begin cracking up. It’s a girl thing, isn’t it? “Ohhhhhh,” a short fat pimply girl peeks out from behind my sister, “is that your boyfriend?” She points at Justin who’s putting his wallet away. They erupt into another fit of giggles. I’m not going to lose it. “Ewwwww! Claire, your brothers a fag?” “The blonde one’s kind of cute!” “He doesn’t LOOK gay….” Not. Going. To. Lose. It. “Have you guys fucked?” That’s it, that’s fucking it, I can’t take it. Christ, no wonder I love cock – who the fuck can STAND chicks? Grabbing Justin’s hand I roughly yank him through the store, and out the door. “Jeez, what the hell Brian,” he rubs his wrist, pouting. I just don’t feel like explaining right now. “Nothing, come on, you want to go to See’s Candy’s?” He gives me a suspicious look. “Why are you being so nice all of a sudden?” “Nice? I am always nice Justin, now let’s go,” to egg him on I wrap an arm around his waist and can tell he absolutely loves it. As we make our way to the candy shop I see provocative glances from men, eyeing Justin and I squeeze his hip a little tighter. He’s fucking mine I glare back at them; stay the fuck away. Just before we reach our destination, one of the worst things possible happens. Walking straight for us, is a group of my soccer teammates. See, I don’t play soccer at school, but for a community team. Which presents a very, very, big problem. I feel horrible for saying this, but I don’t want them to see me with Justin. I know that makes me a lousy friend, but I can’t help it. Soccer is the one place I don’t get called a faggot, fudge packer, cocksucker, fairy – I get treated as an equal. Like one of the guys. And it’s really, really nice. “Hey, Jus, I need to sit down, could you get me a coke from the fountain?” Immediately I remove my arm from his waist. “Sure,” he looks worried, “are you feeling okay?” “Fine,” I snap a little too sharply, “really, I’m fine. Just thirsty. Please?” I beg with my eyes and he smiles, walking off to buy my coke. And not a second too late; soon as he leaves Dean, one of my teammates, recognizes me and waves. “Brian, hey, what’s up?” “Not much,” I reply smoothly, “what about you guys?” “Eh,” the tallest, Martin answers, “going to buy some new spikes. Hey,” his eyes light up, “we’re all going to Karl’s after for a party, you should come.” He sees the skeptical expression and elaborates, “aw, c’mon Brian, there’s gonna be tons of hot babes there, and booze, n’ shit.” Fuck, I am feeling really torn here but I know I shouldn’t be. Ditching Justin wouldn’t be SO bad, would it? No…it would. Still…I can see the blonde hair approaching closer and I begin to sweat. “Sure, what the fuck, let’s go.” Fiercely I stand, following my friends down the escalator down to the first floor of the mall. Justin is going to kill me. “Dude, these are sick.” Dean is examining a display in a window while I nervously glance upwards for any sign of Justin. He spots me first. “Brian! Brian!” He yells down, trying to get my attention. “Brian!” “Is that Taylor?” Fucking Christ! Martin recognizes him. “My friend goes to school with him, I hear he’s a total fag. Do you know him Brian?” “Huh?” I swallow thickly. It’s not like me to hide my beliefs like this. “Taylor? Fuck no.” “Why’s he calling your name?” Frankie, our goalie points out. “He's probably secretly in loooove with you,” Dean teases, poking me in the ribs. “Shut-up,” is the only phrase out of my mouth, “let’s just leave.” I don’t even have the decency to look at Justin as we walk away. It’s not until we’ve past a few stores, that something fast and wet lands on my head, causing a headache to instantly form. Justin. Justin fucking THREW the coke at me. But I deserved it. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - Please review. It makes me update and smile. PLEASE. lol.