Fic Post: Three Ways Owen Didn't Lose His Virginity In a Stationery Cupboard at Fifteen.
Title: Three Ways Owen Didn't Lose His Virginity In a Stationery Cupboard at Fifteen.
Author: momebie
Recipient: misswinterhill
Book: Slow Decay
Characters: Owen and a handful of OCs
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,515
Summary: Owen likes to talk big about losing his virginity at the age of fifteen, in a stationery cupboard, no less. These are three different stories he likes to tell, not a one of which is completely true.
A/N: This book is kind of ridiculous you guys. When I finished it I was still hung up on that one random aside from chapter eleven about Owen losing his virginity at fifteen in a stationery cupboard. What did that have to do with crying girls? And how do you fit two people in a cupboard with the shelves still in!? So this fic was actually barbed_whispers' idea, but since it was better than all of my non-ideas, I stole it. Thank you to paragraphs and adellyna for the betas. All remaining faults are mine.
To My Recipient: Like the book, this whole thing is entirely ridiculous. And it doesn't even involve people eating each other! If you want something else please let me know and I'll work on an actual-facts fic for you that incorporates more points from the novel.
1. Willful Destruction of School Property
The storage room was hot and damp, and so was Owen. He was supposed to be home by now. Surely someone would miss him soon and call the school. There had to be a member of the staff around who could come looking for them.
Them. This would be so much easier if he were alone. He looked over at the girl across the room. She had spent the last thirty minutes pacing and rifling through all of the supplies on the shelves around them. She popped her gum for the hundredth time and something inside of Owen snapped.
“Would you just sit down already?”
“There's got to be something we can pick the lock with. Then we can break out on our own and no one has to know we were ever in here.”
“You don't think they'll notice that everything has been touched and knocked out of place?”
“Anyone could have done that.” Several packets of Post-It notes dropped off the back side of a shelf as she shuffled through writing pads. Each hollow pat sound that came from them hitting the concrete floor pushed him just a little further over the edge.
“Just. Sit. Down,” he ground out.
She frowned, but she crossed the room and dropped down right in front of him. She crossed her legs and he could see a dark hint of the inside of her thigh through the small opening in between her knee and her skirt. “Fine. What do we do now?”
“We wait.”
“That's a horrible plan,” she said.
“You have a better one?” He scowled at her and she smiled, which was not at all what he'd been expecting.
She leaned in and touched her lips lightly to his. He pushed back, not entirely sure what to do. He'd kissed girls before, but not in a way that ever went anywhere. This would be entertaining for fifteen minutes tops. Then it would become painful and he'd be even crankier. Now who had a horrible plan?
He reached his hand out timidly and rested it on her knee. When that didn't seem to phase her he slid it across her leg, inching her skirt up her thigh.
She pulled away. “Not here,” she said.
Bugger. He'd known it. “You haven't something else in mind, then?”
“Yeah,” she said, and jumped to her feet. She went to the corner of the room. There was a large, grey metal stationery cupboard with cobwebs hanging off the upper corners. She pushed it experimentally to make sure it was steady. It didn't move. When she opened it Owen saw that there was only one shelf in it, about halfway up.
“I don't know about you, but I am more than three feet tall. Something tells me that won't work.”
She turned around and smirked at him. Then she turned back to the cupboard and pulled and pushed at the shelf until it had come free of its side brackets. With a strength he wouldn't have thought she had, she pulled the shelf from the cupboard, boxes of pens and pencils, bottles of White-Out and all, and threw it to the middle of the floor.
He was still recovering from the racket when he felt her fingers gripping around his collar and pulling him upright. She all but threw him into the cupboard.
2. Hot For Teacher
French lab had been going horribly. Owen had spent a solid fifteen minutes staring at the clock over the teacher's desk and willing its to move faster. He caught a hard jab in the ribs that startled him out of his reverie. When he looked down he noticed that everyone in the class was staring at him.
“Um...oui?” he said, and licked his lips. He'd had a dream like this once, except he'd been naked and his teacher had been a tiger. He shuddered and hoped this ended better than that had.
“Monsieur Harper,” the teacher said. “If you are finished with class for today, do you think you could pick up the books and put them away?”
“Uh, yes. Oui. Sorry. Désolé.”
The teacher nodded and dismissed the rest of the pupils. Owen collected the books as quickly as he could and carried the teetering stack back to the cupboard in the rear of the room.
“You shouldn't be so sullen, Monsieur Harper,” the teacher said.
Owen grunted and went about placing the books on the shelf. When he finished and turned around she was standing right behind him. “May I be excused?”
“I'm worried about your grades, Owen,” she said. She stepped closer to him. He could feel her breath as it tickled his collar bone. The hairs on his arms were on end, and every part of his body was aware of how close she was standing to him. She was a very young teacher, just out of university, and he'd had many dreams about moments just like this one. Dreams where he pulled her hair down out of its obnoxious little ponytail and practiced the alphabet on her body with his tongue.
He'd never in a million years thought anything like that would actually happen. As she rested her hand on his shoulder and licked her lips he tried not to shout out in his excitement. His mates now owed him fifteen quid apiece.
3. Hiding From Alien Life
Owen wasn't an expert on nightmares, but he was pretty sure that they weren't supposed to happen in real life. He was suddenly majorly disappointed in every monster movie he'd ever seen, because none of them had prepared him for the situation he was now in. There were tiny bloody flying octopuses outside. And they glowed. He knew it would be more dramatic later if he could tell people that they'd had teeth, but he really hadn't wanted to hang around and find out.
Fifteen minutes ago he and a friend had been loitering at the school late, smoking out back. Now they were running as fast as they could through the corridors of the school, trying to outrun the creatures. Their sneakers squeaked on the linoleum tiles, but Owen could barely hear it over the beating of his heart. There was a clang up ahead in the darkness.
“Come on!” his friend shouted, and disappeared out of sight. As Owen drew closer he could see the boy had jumped into an empty supply cupboard that was standing at the end of the hallway. No doubt someone had meant it to be thrown away.
“Glorious junk,” Owen panted, and joined his friend inside, slamming the door behind him.
They waited, straining to hear any sounds over their stabilizing breaths. Nothing had followed them into the hall, as far as they could tell.
Owen was suddenly very aware that he was standing in a small, dark place, pushed flush against one of his good friends. One of his more attractive good friends. They both smelled like cigarette smoke. They were both vibrating with adrenaline and excitement. “What if this is the end?” he said.
It wasn't a morbid thought to him. On the contrary, it was exciting. How often did you get to be caught at the eye of the storm instead of just reading about it later in the papers? He'd always heard people talk about The End, but he never imagined he'd be around to witness it. Not that he was in a position to actually witness anything, at the moment. But if they could stay there until the danger passed....
“I doubt that. Those things were tiny. We could take them out.”
“We ran away,” Owen pointed out.
“Well, not us we, but you know, people. With guns and things. Maybe we should have tried the lighter.” Owen felt his friend's hand brushing against his thigh as the other boy dug in his trouser pocket. The touch made him feel strangely warm and he was aware that he should probably flinch away, but he just wanted more. There were several clicking sounds and a few brief sparks, and then there was a small flame casting low light onto their faces. “I tell you what, Harper, you find yourself in some of the weirdest situations.”
“I'll never be short on stories,” Owen said, which, in his mind, was the perfect way to live life. Everyone liked a person with stories.
“How'd you like another?” the boy said. The two of them were already smashed close together, so it seemed impossible to Owen that the boy's face would be getting even closer, but it was. When their lips touched the other's tongue flicked out and licked Owen's upper lip. He made a mental note to try that on someone else if they ever made it out of the cupboard.
He turned sideways and gripped the boy's hip. “I don't fancy dying a virgin,” Owen said.
Author: momebie
Recipient: misswinterhill
Book: Slow Decay
Characters: Owen and a handful of OCs
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,515
Summary: Owen likes to talk big about losing his virginity at the age of fifteen, in a stationery cupboard, no less. These are three different stories he likes to tell, not a one of which is completely true.
A/N: This book is kind of ridiculous you guys. When I finished it I was still hung up on that one random aside from chapter eleven about Owen losing his virginity at fifteen in a stationery cupboard. What did that have to do with crying girls? And how do you fit two people in a cupboard with the shelves still in!? So this fic was actually barbed_whispers' idea, but since it was better than all of my non-ideas, I stole it. Thank you to paragraphs and adellyna for the betas. All remaining faults are mine.
To My Recipient: Like the book, this whole thing is entirely ridiculous. And it doesn't even involve people eating each other! If you want something else please let me know and I'll work on an actual-facts fic for you that incorporates more points from the novel.
1. Willful Destruction of School Property
The storage room was hot and damp, and so was Owen. He was supposed to be home by now. Surely someone would miss him soon and call the school. There had to be a member of the staff around who could come looking for them.
Them. This would be so much easier if he were alone. He looked over at the girl across the room. She had spent the last thirty minutes pacing and rifling through all of the supplies on the shelves around them. She popped her gum for the hundredth time and something inside of Owen snapped.
“Would you just sit down already?”
“There's got to be something we can pick the lock with. Then we can break out on our own and no one has to know we were ever in here.”
“You don't think they'll notice that everything has been touched and knocked out of place?”
“Anyone could have done that.” Several packets of Post-It notes dropped off the back side of a shelf as she shuffled through writing pads. Each hollow pat sound that came from them hitting the concrete floor pushed him just a little further over the edge.
“Just. Sit. Down,” he ground out.
She frowned, but she crossed the room and dropped down right in front of him. She crossed her legs and he could see a dark hint of the inside of her thigh through the small opening in between her knee and her skirt. “Fine. What do we do now?”
“We wait.”
“That's a horrible plan,” she said.
“You have a better one?” He scowled at her and she smiled, which was not at all what he'd been expecting.
She leaned in and touched her lips lightly to his. He pushed back, not entirely sure what to do. He'd kissed girls before, but not in a way that ever went anywhere. This would be entertaining for fifteen minutes tops. Then it would become painful and he'd be even crankier. Now who had a horrible plan?
He reached his hand out timidly and rested it on her knee. When that didn't seem to phase her he slid it across her leg, inching her skirt up her thigh.
She pulled away. “Not here,” she said.
Bugger. He'd known it. “You haven't something else in mind, then?”
“Yeah,” she said, and jumped to her feet. She went to the corner of the room. There was a large, grey metal stationery cupboard with cobwebs hanging off the upper corners. She pushed it experimentally to make sure it was steady. It didn't move. When she opened it Owen saw that there was only one shelf in it, about halfway up.
“I don't know about you, but I am more than three feet tall. Something tells me that won't work.”
She turned around and smirked at him. Then she turned back to the cupboard and pulled and pushed at the shelf until it had come free of its side brackets. With a strength he wouldn't have thought she had, she pulled the shelf from the cupboard, boxes of pens and pencils, bottles of White-Out and all, and threw it to the middle of the floor.
He was still recovering from the racket when he felt her fingers gripping around his collar and pulling him upright. She all but threw him into the cupboard.
2. Hot For Teacher
French lab had been going horribly. Owen had spent a solid fifteen minutes staring at the clock over the teacher's desk and willing its to move faster. He caught a hard jab in the ribs that startled him out of his reverie. When he looked down he noticed that everyone in the class was staring at him.
“Um...oui?” he said, and licked his lips. He'd had a dream like this once, except he'd been naked and his teacher had been a tiger. He shuddered and hoped this ended better than that had.
“Monsieur Harper,” the teacher said. “If you are finished with class for today, do you think you could pick up the books and put them away?”
“Uh, yes. Oui. Sorry. Désolé.”
The teacher nodded and dismissed the rest of the pupils. Owen collected the books as quickly as he could and carried the teetering stack back to the cupboard in the rear of the room.
“You shouldn't be so sullen, Monsieur Harper,” the teacher said.
Owen grunted and went about placing the books on the shelf. When he finished and turned around she was standing right behind him. “May I be excused?”
“I'm worried about your grades, Owen,” she said. She stepped closer to him. He could feel her breath as it tickled his collar bone. The hairs on his arms were on end, and every part of his body was aware of how close she was standing to him. She was a very young teacher, just out of university, and he'd had many dreams about moments just like this one. Dreams where he pulled her hair down out of its obnoxious little ponytail and practiced the alphabet on her body with his tongue.
He'd never in a million years thought anything like that would actually happen. As she rested her hand on his shoulder and licked her lips he tried not to shout out in his excitement. His mates now owed him fifteen quid apiece.
3. Hiding From Alien Life
Owen wasn't an expert on nightmares, but he was pretty sure that they weren't supposed to happen in real life. He was suddenly majorly disappointed in every monster movie he'd ever seen, because none of them had prepared him for the situation he was now in. There were tiny bloody flying octopuses outside. And they glowed. He knew it would be more dramatic later if he could tell people that they'd had teeth, but he really hadn't wanted to hang around and find out.
Fifteen minutes ago he and a friend had been loitering at the school late, smoking out back. Now they were running as fast as they could through the corridors of the school, trying to outrun the creatures. Their sneakers squeaked on the linoleum tiles, but Owen could barely hear it over the beating of his heart. There was a clang up ahead in the darkness.
“Come on!” his friend shouted, and disappeared out of sight. As Owen drew closer he could see the boy had jumped into an empty supply cupboard that was standing at the end of the hallway. No doubt someone had meant it to be thrown away.
“Glorious junk,” Owen panted, and joined his friend inside, slamming the door behind him.
They waited, straining to hear any sounds over their stabilizing breaths. Nothing had followed them into the hall, as far as they could tell.
Owen was suddenly very aware that he was standing in a small, dark place, pushed flush against one of his good friends. One of his more attractive good friends. They both smelled like cigarette smoke. They were both vibrating with adrenaline and excitement. “What if this is the end?” he said.
It wasn't a morbid thought to him. On the contrary, it was exciting. How often did you get to be caught at the eye of the storm instead of just reading about it later in the papers? He'd always heard people talk about The End, but he never imagined he'd be around to witness it. Not that he was in a position to actually witness anything, at the moment. But if they could stay there until the danger passed....
“I doubt that. Those things were tiny. We could take them out.”
“We ran away,” Owen pointed out.
“Well, not us we, but you know, people. With guns and things. Maybe we should have tried the lighter.” Owen felt his friend's hand brushing against his thigh as the other boy dug in his trouser pocket. The touch made him feel strangely warm and he was aware that he should probably flinch away, but he just wanted more. There were several clicking sounds and a few brief sparks, and then there was a small flame casting low light onto their faces. “I tell you what, Harper, you find yourself in some of the weirdest situations.”
“I'll never be short on stories,” Owen said, which, in his mind, was the perfect way to live life. Everyone liked a person with stories.
“How'd you like another?” the boy said. The two of them were already smashed close together, so it seemed impossible to Owen that the boy's face would be getting even closer, but it was. When their lips touched the other's tongue flicked out and licked Owen's upper lip. He made a mental note to try that on someone else if they ever made it out of the cupboard.
He turned sideways and gripped the boy's hip. “I don't fancy dying a virgin,” Owen said.