Wit Of The Staircase 83/?
anonymous
June 3 2011, 09:31:20 UTC
His instructor was an old stodgy guy with thick glasses whose every other word was a homophobic comment. It would've been awkward if he wasn't such an obvious closet case-or his comments about the 'dirty faggots' didn't remind him of the last time Francis had put Matthew's cock in his mouth. That just made it hard not to break out laughing.
Everything would've gone all normally and it would've been one of those weird anecdotes you collect along the course of a life and repeat in coffeehouses had he not mentioned it to Francis.
That was the problem, really. It should've struck him that he should relate this anecdote to anyone but Francis because of the kinds of things Francis could do with this. But Matthew hadn't thought of that. So he just went to driver's training and went on with his day. He was doing pretty okay, and he was going to try and not fail parallel parking while his instructor was instructing him between rants about how gay men wore such short shorts that showed every contours of their ass in the most obscene way when it was interrupted by the chorus of Dancing Queen.
Matthew shook his head. Could this guy be any more of a closet case?
The instructor frowned. "What? Where?! I'll be there immediately."
He shut the phone.
"I'll be right back," he said in a gruff manner.
"Wait, what should I-"
"Stay here!" The man ordered him.
So Matthew did. He couldn't exactly bring his iPod, so he turned on the radio. About two minutes of painful searching for something which didn't physically scar him with its badness, he turned it off. Silence was preferable to teeny bopper music. He was tapping the steering wheel, pretending that he could actually drive. And sometimes maybe he pretended he was a race car driver, complete with noises. He and Al used to do it all the time, and really, what could he say? He had a really boring life before Francis came around.
"...Matthieu," Francis said.
"I was just. Um. Nothing," Matthew said. He took his hand off the steering wheel and let them fall to his lap.
"You're adorable," Francis said. He leaned in to kiss Matthew's cheek. Matthew felt the brush of his stubble.
"Francis-I'm kind of busy, I-"
"You want revenge, non?"
Francis was smiling at him in that wolfish way which could only mean that he was going to get well fucked pretty soon.
"I ordered a distraction, but we have to hurry," Francis said. Francis reached in and undid Matthew's seat belt.
"I can't believe we're doing this..." Matthew said. "My driver's ed instructor could be back at any moment."
"Shh...I don't know how long they can hold him," Francis said.
"You're crazy," Matthew said. "And I am not even remotely surprised. Why am I not surprised?"
"Because I'm here to spice up your boring life, Matthieu," Francis said. "It is my purpose in life-my raison d'etre if you will."
"I thought your raison d'etre was to get drunk and fuck a lot of people, eh," Matthew said.
Francis smiled. "The first, but not the second. That's just a plus."
"Good to know," Matthew said. Oh maudit his pulse was skyrocketing. It was one thing with the empty alley, bathroom and outside the school, but in the back of the student driving car driven by the most homophobic closet case he knew? That was pure insanity.
Or as Al would put it: awesomanity.
They snuck into the backseat. He tried not to focus on who else had been here-maybe even doing just this. He just focused on Francis who was unzipping Matthew's jeans.
And oh, tabernac Francis was grinding them together. Not even Francis was crazy enough to get them completely naked. But he was touching Matthew, cramped up in the backseat. Matthew was in a panic. Oh if he got caught, he'd never be able to show his face around here again. He'd have to move to some deep wilderness cabin in Canada and grow a beard.
Even if they'd probably just remember it as 'Francis and that gay kid'.
"You've grown taller, you know," Francis said in a low, sultry whisper.
"H-have I?" Matthew breathed.
"Yes. You're taller than me now. I find that very sexy, you know..."
Maybe it was because he wasn't slouching at much. Or maybe he really had gone through a growth spurt. Either way, it felt good to hear.
His instructor was an old stodgy guy with thick glasses whose every other word was a homophobic comment. It would've been awkward if he wasn't such an obvious closet case-or his comments about the 'dirty faggots' didn't remind him of the last time Francis had put Matthew's cock in his mouth. That just made it hard not to break out laughing.
Everything would've gone all normally and it would've been one of those weird anecdotes you collect along the course of a life and repeat in coffeehouses had he not mentioned it to Francis.
That was the problem, really. It should've struck him that he should relate this anecdote to anyone but Francis because of the kinds of things Francis could do with this. But Matthew hadn't thought of that. So he just went to driver's training and went on with his day. He was doing pretty okay, and he was going to try and not fail parallel parking while his instructor was instructing him between rants about how gay men wore such short shorts that showed every contours of their ass in the most obscene way when it was interrupted by the chorus of Dancing Queen.
Matthew shook his head. Could this guy be any more of a closet case?
The instructor frowned. "What? Where?! I'll be there immediately."
He shut the phone.
"I'll be right back," he said in a gruff manner.
"Wait, what should I-"
"Stay here!" The man ordered him.
So Matthew did. He couldn't exactly bring his iPod, so he turned on the radio. About two minutes of painful searching for something which didn't physically scar him with its badness, he turned it off. Silence was preferable to teeny bopper music. He was tapping the steering wheel, pretending that he could actually drive. And sometimes maybe he pretended he was a race car driver, complete with noises. He and Al used to do it all the time, and really, what could he say? He had a really boring life before Francis came around.
"...Matthieu," Francis said.
"I was just. Um. Nothing," Matthew said. He took his hand off the steering wheel and let them fall to his lap.
"You're adorable," Francis said. He leaned in to kiss Matthew's cheek. Matthew felt the brush of his stubble.
"Francis-I'm kind of busy, I-"
"You want revenge, non?"
Francis was smiling at him in that wolfish way which could only mean that he was going to get well fucked pretty soon.
"I ordered a distraction, but we have to hurry," Francis said. Francis reached in and undid Matthew's seat belt.
"I can't believe we're doing this..." Matthew said. "My driver's ed instructor could be back at any moment."
"Shh...I don't know how long they can hold him," Francis said.
"You're crazy," Matthew said. "And I am not even remotely surprised. Why am I not surprised?"
"Because I'm here to spice up your boring life, Matthieu," Francis said. "It is my purpose in life-my raison d'etre if you will."
"I thought your raison d'etre was to get drunk and fuck a lot of people, eh," Matthew said.
Francis smiled. "The first, but not the second. That's just a plus."
"Good to know," Matthew said. Oh maudit his pulse was skyrocketing. It was one thing with the empty alley, bathroom and outside the school, but in the back of the student driving car driven by the most homophobic closet case he knew? That was pure insanity.
Or as Al would put it: awesomanity.
They snuck into the backseat. He tried not to focus on who else had been here-maybe even doing just this. He just focused on Francis who was unzipping Matthew's jeans.
And oh, tabernac Francis was grinding them together. Not even Francis was crazy enough to get them completely naked. But he was touching Matthew, cramped up in the backseat. Matthew was in a panic. Oh if he got caught, he'd never be able to show his face around here again. He'd have to move to some deep wilderness cabin in Canada and grow a beard.
Even if they'd probably just remember it as 'Francis and that gay kid'.
"You've grown taller, you know," Francis said in a low, sultry whisper.
"H-have I?" Matthew breathed.
"Yes. You're taller than me now. I find that very sexy, you know..."
Maybe it was because he wasn't slouching at much. Or maybe he really had gone through a growth spurt. Either way, it felt good to hear.
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