Into Temptation (5/?)

[inmyth]

Title: Into Temptation
Author: inmyth
Pairing: Original male/male slash
Genre: Drama, Angst
Summary: Kevin O’Shea and Connor Ferrera shared a mutual hatred, that is until their parents decided to marry each other. Now forced to live as step-brothers under the same roof, their hatred is starting to reach new heights but after a few secrets unwillingly revealed, they find their relationship taking a most unusual turn.
Rating: NC-17!
Disclaimer: I, Nada am the sole owner of the characters and plot line. Do not claim anything as your own. No PLAGIARISM.

Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four

Chapter 5:

Sunday had been pretty uneventful and Connor was grateful for that. After Saturday’s drama, especially the one that occurred after Andy had left; Connor could do with a bit of a break. There had been another argument that night but for once it hadn’t included Kevin and him, but rather Kevin and his sister, Jessica.

Jessica was staying the night and for that she needed a room. The guest room was no place to sleep what with things still unwrapped and cardboard boxes littering the floor and the pool house, again, hadn’t been cleared out. That left them with only one choice. Either Kevin or Connor had to empty their rooms for the night and share with the other. Although Connor was vehemently against the idea of sharing with Kevin, he wasn’t about to kick up a fuss and get into his mother’s bad graces again. He was starting to enjoy this new maternal side of her and though he had no doubts as to why she was suddenly being so nice to him in front of her new husband, he welcomed the attention nonetheless.

Kevin had, predictably, raised hell about having to share with a faggot and how he didn’t feel safe, to which Connor had sarcastically replied that Kevin’s maidenly virtue was safe with him.

In the end, Jessica had put her foot down, literally, and stomped up to Kevin’s room while dragging Satan’s spawns behind her, muttering all the way. Kevin had let out a frustrated growl and in turn walked down to the den in the basement where, Connor assumed, he spent the night on the couch. He should have felt insulted that rather than share a room, not even a bed, just four fucking walls with him, Kevin opted a night of discomfort. Oh well. Connor wasn’t exactly thrilled at the prospect of having the guy room with him, even if it was for one night, and so was grateful that the prospect didn’t actually become a reality.

That had been Saturday night and Connor had an early start at the garage on Sundays so he didn’t see Jessica, which he was a bit disappointed about as he would’ve liked to apologise for his behaviour on Saturday night. Somehow he had the feeling that Jessica was a good conversationalist, maybe he could even find out some things about Kevin that would make him a bit wiser as to why the guy was such a jerk.

Now it was Monday morning and Connor’s moderately reasonable mood had been shot to bits. Mainly because Kevin was standing beside him in the toilet they both had to share, taking his fucking time brushing his teeth. Connor’s mistake was to walk into the bathroom at the exact same time as Kevin did from the other door. Kevin hardly spared him a glance before walking up to the toilet bowl and doing his business.

They had both overslept and Connor knew what he was trying to do and there was no way he was going to leave the bathroom, which is exactly what Kevin wanted. So he thought he could scare Connor away by taking a leak in front of him? Well, tough shit, Connor had seen many a dick in his life time and guess what? He even had one.

What surprised him the most was that Kevin was not only willing turn his back on Connor but even pull out his prized jewels in his company. Didn’t he worry that Connor would fucking rape him or something? Connor had just moved towards the sink and pulled out his tooth brush from the holder when Kevin joined him and did the same after washing his hands.

No sound escaped any of them except for that of the brush across their teeth and the silence was becoming oppressive. Connor made a point not to look at him in the mirror and that was a harder task than he would have imagined. He’d shared a bathroom with guys before, mainly after gym class when they had to shower in the communal shower stalls and he’d never had the urge to check out any of the guys there. But if he was to ignore who the guy beside him was and how much he hated him, he couldn’t help but appreciate that Kevin O’Shea was pretty hot.

It didn’t help matters much that he was topless and the grey track suit bottoms he was wearing were pretty low slung. Connor’s eyes drifted towards Kevin’s sharp hipbones where, to his surprise, was a tattoo of a panther ready to pounce etched across his skin. It looked gorgeous and although Connor wasn’t into the whole tattoo and body piercing thing, he had a weak spot for hip bones and Kevin’s was a fine example of that.

He hated butch guys and Kevin wasn’t completely buffed up but he did have muscle tone all over his body and was it wrong that Connor found Kevin to be completely drool-worthy?

“Are you done fucking checking me out?” he heard him speak.

Connor tore his eyes away from the tattoo and looked into Kevin’s blue eyes, which were staring back at him in annoyance through the mirror. A scowl fell upon his own features and he felt angry at himself for being caught checking Kevin fucking O’Shea out of all people.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he murmured after spitting out the toothpaste and rinsing his mouth.

Kevin snorted but he didn’t say anything else, for which Connor was grateful because he felt humiliated enough as it was. They both finished washing their faces and Kevin was the first to leave, but not before Connor caught himself checking out his ass did the door close on his face. He sighed and stared at himself in the mirror, horrified that he found Kevin even remotely desirable.

No, he was just looking for aesthetic reasons. He was an artist and of course it was his job to check out beautiful things, was it not? Did he just call Kevin beautiful?! What the fuck?

Connor hurriedly finished changing into his clothes in his room and walked down to the kitchen. He barely resisted the urge to groan and curse his fate as yet again, he found himself all alone in Kevin’s company. He was just going to pour himself some cereal when his phone vibrated in his jeans pocket.

Kevin raised his head from his own breakfast and looked in amusement at Connor’s crotch. Connor felt his face heat up and turned around, pulling out his phone and pressing the Answer button without checking caller ID.

“You have to come over right fucking now,” came Zafir’s breathless voice from the other end.

“Good morning to you too,” Connor replied.

“Yes yes, whatever.” Connor could imagine him waving his hand as if brushing away a fly and that image brought a smile to his face. “So just come over, okay?”

“Now?” He looked up at the clock above the stove. They had twenty minutes to make it to registration. “Can’t this wait?”

“NO! I’ll see you in five. Hurry up!” And he hung up the phone without saying bye. Connor stared at the phone in his hand in puzzlement before shrugging and replacing it in his pocket.

Then he realised that he couldn’t go over to Zafir’s because he had to drive Kevin to school and he doubted the guy would appreciate a detour to his best friend’s house.

“You have to go somewhere?” Kevin asked.

Connor sighed. “Yeah, Zafir just called me over, apparently it’s really important.”

“Then go. I’ll explain to dad that it was an emergency.”

“No, but what are you - ”

“You have to go, right?” Kevin looked at him pointedly. Aaah. Connor understood what he was getting at; if he was unable to drive him then Eric had no choice but to let his son take his own car to school.

“Or you can just come with me,” he pointed out.

“Or you could just mind your own business and do as I say,” came the reply.

Connor shrugged. Fine. Whatever. It wasn’t as if he was looking forward to another ride spent in stony silence anyways. “Okay then.” He cast a mournful look towards the box of Cheerios before sighing and picking up his bag and making his way out of the kitchen with his car keys in hand.

It took just under five minutes to arrive at Zafir’s three storey house. His father was in real estate so they’d always lived in the posh area of town that Connor had just moved into himself. His house wasn’t more than fifteen minutes walk from Zafir’s.

He found the boy already standing outside waiting for him and he’d just killed the engine of his own car when Zafir opened the door for him and pulled him out.

“This better be good. You made me miss breakfast,” he grumbled, letting Zafir pull him along towards the garage situated next to the house.

“This is bigger than your breakfast, I assure you.”

Zafir pushed a button on a remote control and the door of the garage started sliding up. Connor could feel Zafir thrumming with excitement next to him as the door slowly revealed what was on the other side.

“Ta da!”

Connor looked inside. “It’s a car.” And a crap one at that but he didn’t dare point that out.

“This, my friend, is the car that will make me famous,” Zafir said before pulling Connor into the garage so they stood by the teal coloured Volkswagen Beetle that had died out of fashion back in the 1950’s.

“You’re kidding me right?” Connor deadpanned.

Zafir draped himself over the hump of the Beetle and started stroking it lovingly. “Don’t listen to him, baby, you’re beautiful. Connor is just a big, fugly meanie.”

“Yeah, beautiful if you’re into pregnant women!”

“That made no sense, you bum, but seriously though, isn’t it gorgeous? And it’s all mine. Of course it doesn’t work properly but you can help me out with that, right? Once we’re done this will be worth millions and you know why? Because this is classic beauty, a collector’s dream!” he said that all in one breath, his brown eyes gleaming with excitement as he stared eagerly at Connor.

“Errr, sure, if you say so.” He hoped he didn’t sound too sceptical.

But Zafir wasn’t listening, he had turned around to his car and was trying to rub out a smudge on the back window, his tongue sticking out in concentration and his brows furrowed. Connor rolled his eyes and glanced down at his wristwatch.

“Okay, tear yourself away from that car, lover boy, we have school,” he reminded him.

“Yes, yes.” He waved his hand dismissively in Connor’s direction before placing a kiss on the Beetle. “You sit tight, baby, daddy will come back soon.”

“You’re acting creepy.”

“Shuddup, this is the fruits of my labour, dammit.” Zafir picked up his bag that had been lying against the Beetle’s tyre and with one last glance at the car, turned around and said, “Let’s go.”

The short ride to school was spent in animated discussion about Zafir’s new car and how he had sweated blood for it, which in Connor’s opinion was not only a huge exaggeration but even if it had been true then a complete waste. But he kept that opinion to himself. Connor knew of his best friend’s obsession with cars since he was little and if the collection of car models on his window ledge were anything to go by, he hadn’t lost his interest.

Despite the late start to his morning and the consequent disruptions, Connor made it in time for home period. Both he and Zafir took their usual seat at the back of the class while the teacher called out their names for roll.

“So how’s it going with O’Shea then?” Zafir asked as he slouched in his seat.

Connor shrugged. “As can be expected. Andy came over on Saturday and that didn’t go well with His Majesty.”

“You had that prick over and not me?” Zafir pretended to act affronted.

“You know your prick is welcome any time, babe.”

“Eww, man. I did not need to know what you got up to…”

They both burst out laughing and ended up getting the teacher’s attention, and the rest of the class’s.

“Would you care to explain what you find so amusing?” the teacher scowled.

“No, ma’am,” they replied in unison, huge grins plastered across their faces.

And they remained firmly in place as they walked in together into their English classroom. Daisy was sat at the back of the room, checking her make up in a compact mirror. She gave them a brief glance as they took seats either side of her before shutting her compact mirror with a click and turning to Connor.

“Let’s hear it then.”

“Connor’s dishing out blowjobs,” answered Zafir.

“Hey!” Connor threw a balled up piece of paper at him, which he successfully ducked. “You make me sound like a whore.” And how ironic was that? But Connor didn’t bother dwell on it.

“Man-whore, actually.”

“Does that mean Andy’s finally out of the picture?” Daisy asked eagerly, flicking her auburn curls off her face.

Connor rolled his eyes. “No. And he won’t be for a long time yet.” He really didn’t understand why his friends hated his boyfriend so much. Actually that was a lie. Andy hardly made it any easier for them to like him but had Zafir and Daisy’s opinion of him not made up already, they probably wouldn’t have found his attitude as insufferable as they did now.

“But eventually…”

“Shut up, Zaf. I don’t see why you guys can’t get along with him. Can’t you at least try for me?” He knew he sounded whiny but it was exhausting trying to play referee between then.

“I guess… do I get a blowjob?”

This time the balled of piece of paper didn’t miss Zafir’s head.

The teacher had just walked into the classroom and asked everyone to take their text books out. Connor listened to the teacher drone on about Chaucer as he drifted off, gazing outside the window at the grey sky. They were in for a harsh winter, apparently. He sighed and leaned back in his chair and then a piece of paper landed on his desk. He startled. He looked up to see if the teacher had noticed but no one paid him any mind and he unfolded the paper to find a message written on it in saying: So who else have you invited to your party?

Huh? He looked up and found a girl he knew vaguely through study groups as Amanda looking back from in front of him, an expectant smile on her face. He frowned. What party? Maybe she gave it to the wrong person. Yeah that was probably it because as far as he knew he wasn’t inviting anyone to any party.

She leaned back in her chair and motioned him to lean forward. Still confused about the message he moved a bit closer.

“I was wondering if I can get a few invites for my friends? They’re totally cool and would love to come to your party,” she whispered to him, glancing back at the teacher every so often to make sure they weren’t caught conversing.

“What are you talking about? I’m not having a party,” he replied.

She frowned. Looked back to the front of the room and then back at him, are heavily made up eyes narrowing in thought. “But there are posters everywhere. It has your name on it. Your birthday next Friday?”

How did she know about his birthday? And what party?! His brows furrowed in confusion as he thought back to any plans that had mysteriously been erased from his mind, which he might have made regarding his birthday. Nope. Nothing came. He planned to spend the evening with his friends, work on Saturday and then on Sunday…

He realised she was whispering something to him still.

“…and I’m so glad it’s invites only, which is cool, ya know? It gets so boring with all the lame-asses gate crashing and shit. But I swear my friends are totally cool, you might know them too. Edna Kipburn, Rose Hamish, Hannah - ”

“Wait. Stop,” he interrupted her, making sure to glance at the teacher again before whispering, “I’m not having a party. I’m sorry; you must have gotten me confused with someone else.”

His tone was unnecessarily brisk but he wanted to get his point across.

Her face fell. “Oh. I’m pretty sure it was you…”

“It’s not. Sorry.” He offered her an apologetic smile, or at least he hoped it came across as that.

She nodded before turning around to face the front of the classroom and just then the bell rang. He quickly gathered his stuff and walked out of the classroom to wait for his friends.

“What was that about?” Daisy asked as she sauntered up to him, Zafir in tow.

Connor shrugged. “She got me confused with someone else. Thought I was having a party next weekend or something.”

“That’s weird.”

“Mmhmm.”

They meandered through the crowded corridors where Daisy went off to her Math lesson while Connor and Zafir walked towards the Art Department, which was on the other side of the campus. Ironically placed next to the gym to their teacher’s dismay.

“Hey.” Andy sidled up to him, placing a quick peck on his cheek and quickly moving in front of him to sit down on the seat next to Connor, leaving Zafir to glower at his back.

Connor sent him an apologetic look and nodded at him to take the seat on the opposite side of the table, which he did grudgingly.

“So this party -”

“What?”

“When were you going to tell me about it?”

Connor frowned. “Tell you about what party?”

Andy stared at him for a moment before reaching down towards his bag and pulling out a rolled up poster. He handed it to Connor and as he unrolled the poster, dread, mixed with utter disbelief settled inside his stomach.

“What the fuck…”

The poster sported a picture of him taken from last year’s yearbook probably and said he was having a party at his house on the 22nd of September, which was just under two weeks away, in celebration of him turning eighteen.

Connor looked up at Zafir and passed him the poster. He turned to Andy who had a sceptical expression on his face. God. Nothing ever goes right with them for too long, does it? Connor wondered. He sighed and tried to think of the most convincing argument, despite damning evidence, that would assure his boyfriend that he wasn’t planning a secret party, or not, without inviting him or even mentioning it to him.

“It says to contact Kevin O’Shea for details,” Zafir spoke up.

“Oh so that jerk is organising parties for you now?” There was anger in his voice, and then it was replaced by an odd tone, “Didn’t know you two were so close.”

“We’re not!” Connor protested. “And I have no - ”

“If you three are quite finished, can we begin the class?”

All three looked up to find their Art teacher staring down at them over her designer glasses, her hands on her hips as she tapped her foot in impatience. Miss Sammartini, or Rose, as she liked to be called was, perhaps, no older than twenty-five years of age. Freshly out of an Art University from Florence, Italy, she was Connor’s favourite teacher. She also taught him Italian, which he had taken for an easy grade but Rose didn’t make the subject any less challenging even for someone as fluent as Connor was in the language.

He was the first one to speak. “Sorry.”

With one last pointed look, she weaved her way through the tables randomly clustered together to the front of the classroom and took a piece of chalk that had been tucked behind her ear and started writing on the black board. For now, all conversations about one Kevin O’Shea and his dastardly plans would have to be put on hold.

The rest of the lesson passed by in a blur. Try as he might, Connor couldn’t shake the sense of foreboding that had settled in the pit of his stomach since Andy had showed him that stupid poster. The bell signifying the end of the lesson shook him out of his thoughts and as they filed out of the classroom, Miss Sammartini called out behind them, “Don’t forget project deadline is tomorrow. I want all pieces submitted to me in the Art Office by 5pm sharp.”

Well, damn.

“By your expression I’m assuming you haven’t even started.” Andy raised his eyebrows in amusement as they walked down the corridor. A small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth and Connor had the inexplicable urge to kiss him.

Instead he sighed and walked closer than strictly necessary but Andy didn’t mind as he curled an arm around Connor’s waist, his thumb hooking in his back pocket.

“Mmm yeah but I’ll get it done.”

“You better. You’re coming to support your uber sexy boyfriend tomorrow night are you not? And I’d rather you not get detention on that day.” He smiled sweetly.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He looked down at his wrist watch. They had fifteen minutes of mid-morning break before classes began again. “Listen, hey, I need to go and do something. See you later?”

Andy’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “What kind of thing?”

Connor blew hair out of his eyes. He wasn’t exactly irritated at the enquiry but with the tone it had been delivered in. He stared at Andy until the other guy shrugged unhappily and muttered, “Whatever.”

He reached out to his boyfriend and rubbed a hand at the back of his neck soothingly before placing a quick peck on his lips. He tried not to look around in paranoia as he pulled away. He didn’t need another talking to from Mr White, once in a term is bad enough.

“I’ll see you later.”

Connor walked towards the other end of the building where the Student Support office was located. He couldn’t believe it had taken him so long to finally go and check it out. He hadn’t seen her on the first day back and no one picked up the phone when he called her house so now he’d worked himself up in a panic and if anything happened to her - if she…

That thought was cut off abruptly as he found himself standing in front of a wooden door with a plaque that read: Student Support. Senior Counsellor: Dr. Wilcox.

He knocked on the door lightly and opened it without waiting for a request to come in. The room was one he’d been in many a time before and the striped wooden walls of the small cabin-like enclosure had come to be something of a comfort to him. A man with sparse, white hair on his shiny head and a yellowed shirt looked up at him through large gold-framed spectacles and smiled as he recognised Connor. Dr Wilcox was a retired Psychologist and worked part time at the school as a liaison between the students and the right authorities.

“Hello, Connor.” He gestured for him to sit on the other side of the wooden table covered by an explosion of papers, which he carelessly pushed aside to make room for his elbows as he clasped his hands in front of him. “How you getting on so far?”

“Alright,” he answered.

“That’s good.” Dr Wilcox nodded. “So how may I help you today?”

“I came to ask about Sheryl. Sheryl Zhao,” he added, not that Dr Wilcox wasn’t familiar with the name already.

A frown found residence on the old man’s face and he took off his glasses before placing them unusually neatly in front of him, taking his time to arrange them symmetrically against the edge of the desk as if he was trying to prolong his response. This really didn’t bode well for Connor.

“Doctor?” he pressed.

“Ah yes. Sheryl. I’m sure you have, no doubt, noticed her absence. I’m afraid, I don’t have very good news, son.” He looked up at him in sympathy.

Connor’s stomach dropped, his heart thudding painfully against his chest. No, it couldn’t be - not after they had tried so hard… no. She was so happy, so healthy when he last saw her at the airport when she was going to China to see her parents.

He swallowed. “She isn’t…” He couldn’t even finish that sentence.

“She’s in the Intensive Care Unit in the hospital, Connor.” He sighed. “It’s her kidney; they have found tumours in it that are dangerously large at this stage.”

“What does that mean?” he managed to ask, not particularly bothered about the science behind it. He just wanted to know that she will be alright. She had to be.

“It means that the tumours can haemorrhage any time if they exceed that value,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone, as if Connor’s friend wasn’t lying in a hospital bed waiting to die. “It’s common in people with tuberous sclerosis and her autism doesn’t help her body fight it either.”

Connor felt pin pricks behind his eyes and he turned away, looking out of the window and at the grey sky reflected against the windshields of cars in the staff parking lot. If there was one person in the world who had showed him that life really was worth living, that despite the worst of luck the clouds do pass eventually, it was Sheryl Zhao. And now, now he might lose her and oh god he couldn’t lose her. Not now. Not after the painful tests and the all-nighters in the hospital, not after watching her grandmother pray to the Christian God she didn’t believe in, in the hospital chapel.

“I’m sorry, Connor.” The doctor’s voice broke through his thoughts. “She’s a brave kid, we all know that, but how much longer can she keep up with the pain?”

“I know. It’s just so fucking unfair,” he said in a strangled voice. “So unfair.”

The doctor let the word slide and leaned to open a cabinet beside his desk, digging around for a few moments before he came up again, holding a creased pamphlet in his hand. He pushed it towards Connor who read the bold white words against the black in a sort of disbelief: How to deal with grief, loss and bereavement.

“You should go visit her. I’m sure she’ll like that,” he said with a touch of finality in his tone.

Connor nodded mechanically, the words still circling around his head. Grief. Loss. Bereavement.

“I’m sorry, Connor.”

“Yeah.”

But Connor wasn’t really paying attention to the doctor’s words or anything else really as he stumbled out of the room. Everything seemed to close in on him and he hadn’t felt so claustrophobic since the days when he used to hide in the shoe storage, hiding from him. He walked outside the red brick building of his school, the sky reflecting his mood, and walked towards the backside where the lunch tables were scattered in a sort of court yard. There were no students present which meant that morning break was over and classes had resumed even though he hadn’t noticed the bell ring.

Beside the entrance from the main lunch hall was a wall covered in a colourful memorial mural for all the students who had passed away and had attended this school. He felt a sense of morbid acceptance settle on his shoulders as he sat down at the far end of the wall where he and Sheryl used to sit. Where he first met her two years ago when she entered the school as a freshman. She’s so young, he thought, she hasn’t seen anything in the world, the world that she always asserted is so pretty and now she doesn’t have much time left to see how right she was.

“It means that the tumours can haemorrhage any time…”

He closed his eyes and thought back to the first day he’d seen her. She looked painfully small sitting on the edge next to the mural - she was very fond of bright colours - organising her colouring pencils in a line against the asphalt, her straight, black hair falling over to cover her face. He’d come and sat down next to her and said, “That looks very pretty.”

She’d shrunk back from him, her black eyes widening in panic and in her haste to get away from him, she’d messed up her line of colour pencils. When the pencils scattered, a sense of calm came over her and having forgotten his presence, she carried on correcting them and putting them perfectly in line again.

It wasn’t until much later, after he pretty much stalked her and helped her out wherever possible, that he found out about her condition. She was an only child born to a poor family in China and after the first couple of years of her life, it had been clear that she wasn’t like all the other children. She’d been diagnosed with Autism and her family had put all their earnings together to send her and her grandmother to America so she could get treated properly.

Connor had been drawn to her since the beginning, there was something about her quietness that called to him - it wasn’t oppressive or awkward. She communicated in silence, and one glance, or one smile reassured his concerns and it was her he came to confide in because she didn’t say anything. She just placed her hand upon his and comforted him even though it was her who needed all the comfort, all the assurances in the world because she was so young. And she was the one dying.

He got up off the wall and walked towards the student parking lot. Classes be damned, he was going to go see her right now, he decided.

TBC

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