Fast Times at NAMBLA High: Part 13
Well, this would have been posted over an hour ago had my computer not decided to go "HJSGDFKUWHEF" and freeze every time I tried to open MS word. Damn you, Bill Gates and your crappy software!
Title: Fast Times at NAMBLA High: Part Thirteen
Author: Your’s truly
Fandom: The Daily Show... with a smattering of guest appearances.
Pairing: Including but not limited to:
Jon/Stephen, Stephen/Paul, Stephen/Craig Kilborn, Jon/Anderson Cooper, Paul/Amy, Rob/Frustration, Ed/Confusion, (Rob/Frustration)/(Ed/Confusion), Mo Rocca/Lewis Black, Sam/Jason, Demetri Martin/Nathan Corddry, Bob Novak/Hair nets, Aasif Mandvi/Tucker Carlson, Stone Phillips/Barbara Walters, Dan Bakkedahl/Rob Riggle, Dane Cook/His ego, Dave Gorman/John Oliver, Jerry Seinfeld/Steve Carell, Bill O’Reilly/Hatred, Keith Olbermann/Everyone, John Hodgeman/Bill Gates, Tucker/Craig, Aasif/Anderson, John Hodgman/Sarah Vowell, Will Ferrell/MOP?, Keith/Dennis Leary, George Clooney/Charm
Featured pairing(s): Rob/Ed, and TOP-SECRET SPECIAL PAIRINGS
Rating: This might just be NC-17
Warning: Crack: it's what's for dinner. Other warnings: AU, drug use, underage drinking, het crap, and Will Ferrell being creepy. For this specific chapter? A strange D/S development. Sort of. Not really. Oh, right, SMUT SMUT SMUUUUT. Also, Nate being bitchy!teenage boy.
A/N: Sorry, guys. I know I blow at getting these things out lately. Ummmm, but it’s long? Also, I’m not really sure where the beginning of this chapter came from. Hopefully it’s good… and sorry to anyone whose comments I didn’t respond to last time. Real life sucks. *runs and hides in shame*
Special side-note: This chapter is dedicated to inconversable and spacemonkey_699; inconversable because her fic Paint It Black is what made me want to see these kids in high school form and spacemonkey_699 because she made me love Rob/Ed.
Length: 6066
Feedback: Feedback helps my crack addiction. Give generously.
Previous chapters:
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Four Point Five: An Interlude of sorts
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten (A)
Chapter Ten (B)
Chapter Ten (C)
Chapter Ten (D)
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Summary: OMG! ANOTHER NEW SUMMARY??? *is intrigued*
It's like a high school fic that isn't lame and is all cracky and shit. Read it.
~An annonymous reader who I totally didn't make up.
BELIEVE THE HYPE.
READ THE STORY.
In this edition of FTANH: brothers are brothers, angry blowjobs are perhaps not the best way to solve anything, and a slew of newbies are introduced.
FAST TIMES AT NAMBLA HIGH
Part Thirteen
“Nate! NATE, for the love of GOD, we’re going to be late! Will you hurry the FUCK UP?!”
“Robert! Language!”
“JUST WAIT A FUCKING SECOND, I’M GETTING MY BAG, ASSMUNCH!”
“Nathan! That goes for you as well!”
Rob sighed and kicked the side of the stairs. Nate was doing this intentionally. Being a pain in the ass seemed to be his choice way of cramping Rob’s style lately and it wasn’t going unnoticed.
“NATE!” Rob practically screamed once more. “WE STILL HAVE TO PICK UP ED! WILL YOU GET YOUR BONY ASS DOWN HERE?!”
“Robert! Inside voice!” his mother chided again from the kitchen.
“Jesus Christ,” his brother spat, appearing at the top of the stairs. “Get your panties out of a bunch.”
“Language!” The tiny woman came out of the kitchen, handing bagged lunches to the two boys. “Honestly. Walter, say something to them.” Their father gave a small grunt from where he sat gazing at his paper in the dining room. Their mother heaved a disparaging sigh and shook her head, wrapping the towel she held in her hands nervously. “Alright, well, your father and I won’t be in this evening but there’s food in the freezer.”
Rob saw Nate roll his eyes skyward in his peripheral vision. “What else is new,” his brother grumbled.
“Alright,” Rob cut him off hurriedly. “We’ve got to go and get Ed.”
Nate made a noise of annoyance but headed towards the door anyway, throwing a, “See you later, mom. Bye dad!” over his shoulder. Rob, for his part, paused and gave his mother a peck on the cheek and a small smile before following his brother. He jumped into the car, turning the ignition on before pulling out.
There was silence in the car, as usual, and Rob tapped his fingers on the wheel in annoyance. Nate had been acting weird lately. And not just his normal, spastic weird, but like… really odd. He had been silent and moody which, though not completely abnormal, was beginning to border on him being way more distant than usual.
Suddenly, paranoia flared through him. Could he know? He glanced his brother’s way. Nate was staring outside innocuously, his face blank. But it could all be an act, Rob reasoned rationally. He could just be pretending to not know. Did he think Rob knew he knew but he was just pretending not to know? Or did he think Rob didn’t think he knew and was pretending not to know he knew?
“What is up with you?” Rob suddenly blurted out, his voice at an odd octave not quite normal for human beings; maybe more fitting for a shrieking bird of some sort.
Nate’s eyes shot over to him for a moment before resolutely fixing on the dashboard. “What do you mean?” he asked nonchalantly, seemingly unfazed by Rob’s outburst.
“You’ve been weird,” Rob pointed out reasonably.
“What do you mean?” Nate retorted again, only this time not bothering to sound nonchalant and now just sounding frustrated. “Any weirder than you’ve been?” He let out a strange grunt and rubbed his eyes, looking hopelessly out the window. Rob was struck with how sad his brother suddenly looked, jaw clenching and unclenching as he abused his cuticles with his teeth.
Sighing, Rob looked back to the road and gritted his teeth. “Don’t chew your fingers,” he muttered harshly. His brother snorted in derision but his hand dropped from his mouth anyway, playing with the seat belt strapped across his lap. “How…” Rob suddenly found himself asking awkwardly. “How have I been ‘weird’?”
Nate sighed but in a more resigned than annoyed way. “Well…” he trailed off, staring at his nails. “You’ve been… I don’t know… weird!” He seemed like he wanted to continue but instead opted to start fraying the edge of his backpack strap.
“That’s not an answer, Nate!” Rob was suddenly yelling, feeling angry heat coming to his face. Why in the hell was he being so difficult?
“Since when do you want to talk, Rob?” Nate shot back, his voice rising as well.
“What?” the older boy sputtered, glancing over to where his brother was glaring at him. “What the hell does that mean?”
“We don’t talk, Rob!” Nate yelled, throwing up his hands in exasperation. “Why the hell do you suddenly want to start now?”
Rob gaped at him, feeling his face getting redder… only this time in embarrassment. “All I wanted to know was why the fuck you’ve been acting like an awkward-ass freak,” he replied quietly, the way he shoved the turn signal on the only indication that he was still angry.
“Oh, right,” Nate retorted, smirking. “Like you have any room to judge on that subject.”
Rob just shook his head and pulled into Ed’s driveway. “If you’re going to be a little bitch, you might as well get in the back,” he snapped, even though Nate was already crawling over the seats.
“Fuck you,” was all his brother said petulantly, leaning back with his arms crossed forcefully on his chest and glowering at the seat in front of him.
Growling in annoyance, Rob resolutely looked away from his brother, the question pertaining to the younger boy’s knowledge about Ed and himself niggling at the back of his mind. Something was up either way, but what the fuck was Rob supposed to do about it? Hug the fucking grumpiness away in brotherly love? Fuck that.
“Hey guys,” Ed chirped cheerfully as he plopped into the passenger’s seat. His demeanor automatically became more subdued as he took in the chilly atmosphere of the interior of the car. “Um… everything okay?” he asked uneasily as he glanced back at the still-scowling Nate. Nate didn’t respond but just looked out the window.
“Nate’s being an ass,” Rob stated flippantly, earning a glare from his brother which he chose not to acknowledge. “Just ignore him.”
Ed nodded slowly, both eyebrows raised. “Well, okay then.”
An uncomfortable silence descended in the car, two of the boys glaring in separate directions with one glancing in confusion at them. Soon, much to everyone’s relief, they arrived at the school and were parked.
“I’ll meet you at the normal spot, okay?” Rob asked testily as Nate launched from the car. When he didn’t respond and just continued to march towards the school, Rob rolled down the window and called out, “You can forget about a ride if you keep it up with that shitty attitude!”
Silence reigned once again as the two boys left contemplated the spot where Nate had disappeared.
“Mister,” Ed suddenly murmured, chuckling.
“What?” Rob asked sharply, though once he looked at the amusement on his friend’s face he softened a bit.
“It sounded like that was missing from that statement,” Ed answered quietly, a smirk playing on his face. “’No rides if you’re going to keep that attitude up, mister!’” He chuckled again causing Rob to smile in spite of himself.
“God, I do sound like his dad…” he muttered, rubbing his eyes tiredly.
“So… is everything okay?” Ed ventured once Rob continued to stare forlornly at the steering wheel.
“I’m just… he’s being all…” He trailed off, searching for words. “Do I not talk?” he suddenly asked in a rush.
“Talk?” Ed replied, blinking.
“Yeah, like… have conversations and shit.”
Ed just stared into the distance, a contemplative look on his face. “Well…” he said after a moment, a small smile making its way onto his lips. “Not really.” He then full-out grinned. “You seem to have issues with opening up.”
“What?’ Rob scoffed. “I open up all the fucking time! You don’t know what you’re talking about!” He huffed and crossed his arms, the engine still idling slightly.
“Rob,” Ed continued kindly, looking on his friend with affection. Rob tried to ignore the heat the intent stare caused to pool in the pit of his stomach. How the fuck did Ed have this power over him? “Rob, you just… you get all mad when you try to talk about how you feel. I mean, I’m terrified about 90% of the time that you’re going to murder me and they’ll never find the body.” Was Ed referencing the hobo thing again? God, could he not just let that go? “Not that I’m really, er, complaining…” Suddenly his good old awkward Ed was back as his friend tried to compensate for his former honesty. “Like… it makes life… exciting?”
“So basically,” Rob responded, feeling oddly blank, “I’m a closed-off jerk who seems overly violent.”
Ed chewed his lip. “I’m not saying that exactly, but you’re certainly a… er… loose cannon?”
Rob snorted, his fingers digging into his sockets again seeing as he suddenly felt insanely tired. “Let’s go,” he muttered idly, swinging his door open. Ed followed suit, tagging along obediently as his friend made his way towards the school.
“Do… do we talk?” Rob asked quietly, giving Ed a sidelong glance.
Ed paused, that thoughtful look on his face. It was weird… since his declaration of love (which Rob was most certainly not acknowledging in any way, shape or form), Ed had seemed more relaxed. Chill almost. He had been much less prone to outbursts of nervousness and had an almost serene air… for Ed anyway.
Finally, he shook his head a bit. “No, not really.”
Rob began walking faster, his trepidation spurring his legs on at a greater speed. “And, what,” he demanded, “that doesn’t bother you?”
“Sometimes,” his friend answered honestly, a slightly shy smile on his face. “But it’s you. And, you know… I like what makes you you.”
Rob froze in the middle of the hall, feeling his heart rate increasing as he turned his head to regard his friend intensely. He felt dizzy as the emotions rushed through him… he couldn’t decipher what they all were but there was the voice again, insistent and nagging and making Rob, yet again, feel insane.
You love him.
Rob pushed the thought down.
No, he responded resolutely. I just want to fuck him.
Grabbing Ed by his upper arm, he dragged him roughly down the hall, eyes casting about hastily as he searched for somewhere to go.
“Rob,” he heard Ed say in the distance. “Rob, we have to go to class. Rob.”
“So we’ll be late,” the other boy grated out huskily. Ed shivered under his hand. Finally locating what appeared to be an empty classroom, Rob practically kicked the door open and hauled Ed inside before shutting and locking them in the deserted room. Shoving Ed roughly to an area where no one could see them from the hall, Rob pressed him up against the wall.
“Well,” Ed chuckled rather breathlessly, “this is certainly better than the bathroom…”
“Shut up,” Rob replied gruffly though not without affection. He slowly removed Ed’s glasses and tossed them onto a nearby desk as both boys removed their backpacks. He pushed Ed more fully against the wall again, pulling out his friend’s tucked-in shirt.
Pressing his lips against the other boy’s, Rob pushed his thigh in between Ed’s legs. Ed pressed forward eagerly, moving with Rob and opening his mouth slightly to let their tongues slide together. Rob marveled dizzily at how much easier this was getting… only a week ago they were pretty much as awkward as could be, now… now there was the rhythm and he found it addicting.
He hastily opened up his pants before reaching for Ed’s fly, smiling against the other boy as he moaned when Rob stroked him slightly through the cloth of his boxers. Touching Ed shouldn’t be such a turn on… he knew that, his body just seemed to disagree vigorously seeing as his own erection was straining against his still zipped up pants. Ed started to try and remedy that situation, his fingers beginning to slide the zipper down but in a flash of instinct, Rob pulled them away by the wrists before pinning them on either side of Ed’s head. The other boy didn’t seem to mind since a moan escaped him again as he thrust ineffectually against Rob’s thigh.
Rob let one of his hands drop from Ed’s wrists in order to open his fly himself, letting his pants drop to the ground. He worked off the other boy’s pants as well as Ed breathed heavily against his neck between the wet hot kisses he planted there. Finally they were both naked from the waist down (if, of course, you ignored their socks and pants bunched up at their ankles) and Rob stared down at their slightly touching erections as he breathed heavily through his nose.
“Turn around,” he heard someone say, realizing with a start that it was him uttering the order. His voice sounded odd… all gravel and, well… manly. Ed, looking dazed, did as he was told. Rob wasn’t quite sure what he was trying to do but, in a moment of inspiration, pressed long-ways against Ed’s back.
“Do you like this?” he asked gruffly as he reached around and gripped Ed.
The other boy’s forehead clunked against the wall and he grunted out a rough, “Yes.”
Moaning as he felt the words exiting his friend’s mouth rumble their vibrations through his own chest, Rob began to thrust in between Ed’s legs. Since the other boy was slightly taller, though Rob was usually loath to admit that, at the moment it was proving quite convenient since he could move between Ed’s legs without actually having to enter him. Sure, it wasn’t the most comfortable thing in the world seeing as he was doing it dry but he rutted helplessly as the thought came to him that this… this was almost like fucking him.
He groaned loudly and spit onto his hand, rubbing it on his erection in order to gain a better slide. This had the desired effect and soon the two were rocking against each other, Rob mouth latched onto Ed’s neck as Ed panted heavily against the wall.
“God…” Rob found himself muttering in that same guttural voice. “I want…”
“What?” Ed prompted, sounding lost.
“I want to fuck you so bad…” Rob gasped as Ed pushed back a bit.
Suddenly, the other boy stilled, the muscles beneath Rob tensing slightly. Protectiveness flaring through him, Rob rubbed a comforting hand over his shoulders.
“Not now, Ed…” he murmured softly into his friend’s ear, a not often heard tone of sympathy in his voice. “I just meant at some point.”
Ed seemed to find that satisfactory since he once again thrust back onto Rob, making him groan loudly. They fell into the rhythm, that awesome, mind-blowing rhythm again and Rob knew he was coming close.
“Rob…” Ed was grunting somewhere at the edges of his mind.
“What?” Rob asked distractedly.
“I want to, shit…” he trailed off as Rob did something a little different with his wrist. “I want to tell… people… about us…”
Ice suddenly filling his veins, Rob fought the panic that made his stomach queasy. He had been terrified of the day this would happen… when Ed would finally want to do the stupid thing and tell everyone that they were fucking… fucking faggots together.
After being still for a moment, he heard Ed breathing nervously against him. “Don’t be stupid,” was all Rob said before going to work again.
But Ed apparently had other plans. Making a noise of anger, the other boy suddenly wheeled around and grabbed Rob, pinning him against the wall by his shoulders. Rob felt an odd jump of arousal as the Ed that faced him wasn’t his normal, blundering, sweet Ed but… but a seriously pissed-off Ed. He didn’t say a word; he just glared into Rob’s eyes, his own burning with anger and perhaps a bit of hurt.
Still not saying anything, he dropped to his knees, shoving Rob’s hips against the wall and taking him roughly into his mouth. Rob let out a shuddering gasp, feeling all his joints turn into jell-o. What the hell was going on? Even though it was Ed kneeling before him, even though it was Ed who was degrading himself by taking Rob into his mouth, even though it was Ed who for all intents and purposes who should be the subservient one… Rob felt like he had no control. And, with a twinge of self-loathing drowned out by his insane arousal, he knew he liked it.
Ed continued to glare up at him, working over Rob without any care whatsoever; teeth dragging carelessly and head bobbing in a steady rhythm. Rob felt himself nearly convulsing as his fingers scrabbled against the wall seeing as he didn’t feel like it was his place to put them in Ed’s hair as he normally would have done…
Wait, “wasn’t his place”? What the hell was he thinking? Ed wasn’t the boss of him!
But, no, right now he was and Rob didn’t know how he could stop it. Or if he really wanted to.
He shuddered as Ed pulled him in deeper, closing his eyes and turning his head away since the other boy’s intense stare had become too much for him. He made an embarrassing mewling sound when he was let go, his eyes peering open to see Ed place two fingers in his mouth. He wet them silently, the anger and arousal still evident on his face. Without warning, he took Rob in again, causing the standing boy to let out a choked gasp and his fingernails to dig into his palms.
Then he felt something strange… something prodding at his backside. His eyes flew open for a moment as he realized with horror at what the fingers had been for when a helpless broken sob was wrenched from him. Ed’s digits entered him without even a little preparation and, with the burning pain searing through him, he let out a gurgled and helpless, “F-fuuuuuck,” before climaxing violently.
As his swimming vision cleared, he saw Ed get to his feet, a solemn expression on his face. “How…” Rob asked dazedly, his throat raw. “How did you…?”
“I’ve been doing research,” Ed said, looking sad and frustrated all at the same time.
“I’m…” Rob tried, reaching out for his friend, but Ed just shied away and pulled up his pants and tucking his shirt in. Rob could see he still had a hard-on. “Let me…” Rob murmured, trying to get close to him again.
Ed, however, avoided his touch. “I’ll see you later, Rob,” he muttered quietly, grabbing his glasses and backpack and making his way to the door.
“Ed…” Rob called helplessly, but he was gone.
Rob stared at the door, feeling ashamed and worse than he ever had in his entire life. Ed had actually figured out how to punish him in the worst way possible… by not allowing Rob to get him off.
Sinking to the floor, Rob wiped ineffectually at the tears forming in his eyes. It was strange that his best orgasm ever would have the worst after-effects… he’d never felt so weak in his life. This was what Ed was doing to him… breaking him down somehow. And yet, it was Rob who felt guilty about it.
He swallowed hard, eyes still burning. This wasn’t fair. Ed couldn’t do this to him. He couldn’t just… he couldn’t just leave Rob! That wasn’t fair.
Or is it? one of the traitorous voices asked. Couldn’t it be that you just don’t deserve him?
A pathetic sob wrenched out of him. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He had to be a man. He had to be.
Eyes screwing up in frustrating, the tears finally leaked out; another sob coming out of him, the shame seeping into every fiber of his being as he cried on the floor. He wasn’t sure how long he had been there when the tears finally subsided and his breathing slowed. He blinked rapidly, looking down at himself. God, he looked like a mess.
Getting unsteadily to his feet, he dressed until he figured he looked halfway presentable. Scrubbing at his eyes, he paused as he saw his reflection in the glass of the window. He looked like a Mack truck had hit him. He sighed disparagingly before taking a deep breath and puffing out his chest.
He was going to be okay. He and Ed, he amended faux-confidently, were going to be okay. He would make it be okay.
Now… just how was he going to do that?
~~~~~~~~~~
Jon glanced at the paper gripped in his hands. It said the meeting was in the downstairs computer lab, but for all intents and purposes… the room before him looked fairly abandoned. He peered around the hall again, feeling like he was probably making a mistake. Why was he doing this again?
To make friends, he told himself sternly. So you’re not a fucking loner your whole high school career.
Of course, he was probably making friends outside of doing stupidass clubs. He was a sociable person deep down after all. But Mr. Carell’s words came back to him and, sighing in annoyance, he had to agree that doing some extracurricular activities would be best.
“Hey!” a voice shouted, making him jump. What the…? His stomach dropped as he turned to face its owner. “You.”
“Uh, hey Mr. Ferrell,” Jon said awkwardly, backing up towards the computer lab door. “How are you?”
“Don’t play games with me,” the strange man retorted, eyes narrowed. “I know how your mind works. You’re not pulling the wool over my eyes! No… no siree. Not at all.”
Jon chuckled nervously. “Um… well… I’m not really trying to, but good to know.”
“Why are you loitering?” the man demanding, pointing a threatening mop in Jon’s direction.
“I’m not!” Jon cried, putting up his hands in defense. “I was looking for the computer lab and, oh look! There it is! See you later!” Without another word, Jon slipped through the door before leaning against it heavily. That was close.
“Who enters?” a new, disembodied voice demanded.
Jon let out a small noise of distress. What was with everyone? “Um… Jon Leibowitz?” he called uneasily.
“And why, Jon Leibowitz, have you entered?” the voice demanded.
“Uh… I heard Newspaper club was in here…” he looked around, trying to find the person. “Am I right, or…?”
“Hodgman,” he heard someone else say, “stop fucking around.” With that, two boys came out from behind a long row of computers. “Sorry about that. He gets very protective of his babies,” the dark-skinned boy drawled, smirking.
A quirky and pudgy kid with glasses surveyed him warily. “You’re here for Newspaper?”
“Yeah…” Jon glanced at the darker boy who just shrugged and rolled his eyes.
“And that’s with…?” the bespectacled boy asked.
“Seinfeld?” Jon answered uneasily.
“Okay!” the boy said cheerfully, seemingly satisfied that Jon hadn’t in fact come to steal all of his computers. “Sorry about that. Just need to make sure you’re not a, you know… questionable character.” He glanced around nervously, as if such characters were lurking around every corner. “I’m John Hodgman,” he said with a flourish, shaking Jon’s hand. “Resident computer expert.”
The other boy snorted. “And I’m Aasif Mandvi,” he said with equal flourish, a tinge of an accent coming through as he pronounced his name. “Resident Indian.” He glanced Jon up and down, the smirk still on his face. “Leibowitz. So… you’re a Jew?” he asked, looking supremely amused by such a notion.
“Yeah,” Jon responded, feeling wary. “Why?”
“Oh, no reason,” Aasif responded, dropping into one of the chairs that faced away from Jon. “Just glad that I’m not the only minority around here for the pricks to pound on anymore.”
Jon chuckled dryly, trying not to feel annoyed. “Glad to be of service,” he muttered darkly, glancing about the room. “So, uh, is this it or…?”
“Oh, no,” John responded, evidently much friendlier when he wasn’t being suspicious of the other boy’s character. “They’re in the back room. We just stick around as tech support.”
“And by ‘we’ he means himself,” Aasif said sardonically, the smirk on his face reflecting in the computer screen. “They just keep me in here because they think me being Indian makes me some sort of computer genius.”
“You’re not that bad,” John said, obviously not convinced by his own words. Aasif just snorted and clicked on a random website. “Anyway, just go through there to the back,” John supplied pointing the way. “They’re all in there.”
“Thanks,” Jon replied idly, giving John a nod and regarding the back of Aasif’s head.
He made his way to the back, taking a deep breath as he faced the door. This couldn’t be that bad… could it?
“Jon!” Seinfeld said, sounding surprised and genuinely glad to see him as he entered. “Good, glad you made it.” Jon gave a halting smile in response with a slight nod before he glanced around the rest of the room. His small smile turned into a grin as he saw Tina beaming at him alongside Conan. “Alright guys, this is Jon Leibowitz, the new kid. Uh, just introduce yourself as we go on today.” Everyone murmured an affirmative and Jon took a seat next to Tina.
“I didn’t know you did this,” he said softly, smiling at her.
“Yeah, well, I am the head writer after all,” she replied smugly.
Conan rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that means a huge amount.”
“Shut up,” she scowled, smacking him with her notebook. “At least I don’t just write sarcastic columns about what’s ‘in’ and ‘out.’” She addressed Jon again. “Last issue, saying ‘tender’ was the new ‘tight.’” She gave Conan an appraising once-over. “Very impressive journalism.”
“Alright everyone,” a nasally voice then began. “Over the summer there were some very interesting developments in the area of…” Jon found himself openly staring at the short, mousy-haired girl who was studiously reading the notes before her. Her voice, Jon noted, was probably the strangest he had ever encountered in his life.
Tina seemed to notice his enraptured wonder. “That’s Sarah Vowell,” she whispered to him. “She’s a senior. And a genius, for all intents and purposes. She’s our main researcher, treasurer, secretary and pretty much all-around walking encyclopedia.”
Jon nodded absently. “Does she… does she smoke or something? Or just ODed on helium?”
Tina’s laugh was hushed. “No, she just talks that way.”
Conan leaned forward. “She wrote a kickass article about Lincoln… she’s got a serious thing for him,” he said, looking just a little dreamy.
“Yeah,” Tina replied dryly, eying Conan with a raised eyebrow. “She’s not the only one.”
“Thank you, Sarah,” Mr. Seinfeld said once the girl had finished. “Anderson, take it away.”
“Thanks, Mr. Seinfeld.” A boy maybe a little taller than Jon got to his feet, looking towards the rest of the group. “Hi all, I’m Anderson Cooper and I just wanted to say welcome back to all those old faces out there,” he gave a quiet and sincere smile, “ and thanks for joining us to all the new folks!” He paused and searched his papers. The kid was good-looking in a way Jon found hard not to resent, with a strong chin and brilliantly blue eyes. “Uh, right, so we’re going to get started with brain-storming for article ideas and then maybe go into the computer lab to try out some layouts. Sound good?” Everyone in the room murmured the assent. Anderson grinned, his eyes crinkling as his straight white teeth flashed. “Great, let’s get to brainstorming.”
As the room filled with rather half-hearted attempts at ideas, Tina leaned towards Jon again. “Cooper’s only a sophomore but he’s already the president of six clubs, including this one. That and he’s ridiculously rich,” she muttered to him, making Jon raise an eyebrow. “I also heard he’s, like, 3 years ahead in English.” She grinned and shook her head. “That’s what I call hardcore motivation. He’s kind of this school’s golden boy.”
“Then why haven’t I seen him anywhere?” Jon asked quietly, scribbling down some notes on an idea he liked.
Tina just shrugged and raised an eyebrow at him. “Being the golden boy takes up a lot of time, apparently.”
Jon nodded absently, watching the way Anderson nodded calmly and patiently while kindly turning down some of the more idiotic ideas that a few of the other kids brought forward. He seemed startlingly professional in a way that wasn’t common for people their age, with his nice dress shirt and pressed pants, hair groomed to the T. Jon really wasn’t sure if he was jealous or in awe at that point, especially seeing as the kid seemed perfectly nice in every way possible.
Jon chose to stay silent during the initial session, just smiling uneasily at those who happened to glance his way. He knew he had good ideas… he just wasn’t sure if they were good enough.
“Well,” Anderson finally said after the session had lasted for about a half an hour. “That’s probably good for now. How about we go to the lab, okay?” Everyone got to their feet and Jon lingered behind Tina and Conan as they argued animatedly about whether James Bond could beat Superman.
Jon, of course, knew that it was James Bond. Sure, Superman had superpowers, but Bond had gadgets and had the sharpest wit around. So what if Superman could dodge a bullet? Bond would totally figure out a way to get Kryptonite and shoot that mofo. That and Jon had always thought Clark Kent seemed like a dud anyway.
As he walked mutely through the door, lost in his own little world as he imagined who else Bond could take on (Spiderman: easy, he was a wimp and slow on the uptake when the issue at hand wasn’t science-related; Aquaman was just lame; the Hulk would be too easy…), when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Starting, he turned to find himself facing Anderson.
“Hi,” he said a little awkwardly. “I, uh, noticed you were new so I thought I’d introduce myself personally…”
Jon smiled slightly, nodding to the other boy. “Yeah, hi, I’m Jon Leibowitz.”
“Anderson, but you can call me Andy.” He flashed that handsome grin again and Jon felt himself smiling back sincerely for the first time that day. “So, where’d you move here from?” he asked conversationally as they walked between the computers.
“Jersey,” Jon answered. “I was, uh, kicked out of town,” he suddenly improvised haltingly.
Anderson didn’t miss a beat, smile growing mischievous as his eyes crinkled even more. “Oh really? What for?”
Jon shrugged before sighing sadly and shaking his head. “I guess my goat breeding techniques were just a tad, uh, too unorthodox for them.”
He felt his heart suddenly swell as Anderson let out a surprised and nerdy laugh. Ah, so the golden boy did have a weakness. Jon felt his eyebrows shoot into his hairline as Anderson clamped a hand over his mouth.
“Some, um, laugh you have there,” Jon said, grinning in spite of himself.
Anderson shrugged, all self-deprecation. Jon suddenly realized that Stephen may have a runner-up for most charming kid at school. “Yeah, it just accentuates my shining personality,” he smiled shyly. “You know, lets people be aware that I’m a nerd from the get-go so they don’t get any funny ideas.”
“Oh, I totally get you there,” Jon responded, only feeling mild residual awkwardness. “I like to wear a cape around usually, but my mom was afraid the goat stories would carry and people would recognize me. I’m trying to throw people off this time by appearing to be normal.”
There was that giggle again and Jon barked out a helpless laugh in response. “Ahem,” Anderson coughed, apparently trying to get a hold of himself. “We should, uh, try and be productive.”
Jon sighed sadly, plopping into one of the computer chairs. “That totally goes against my nature as a slacker,” he pouted, clicking disconsolately at the Firefox icon on the desktop.
“Well,” Anderson replied seriously, sitting primly in the chair next to him, “people say I’m an over-achiever so uh, we’ll just balance each other out then?” His eyes slid shyly to Jon’s own.
The older boy barked out a laugh again, shaking his head. “Whatever you say, man. I tend to be very persuasive in the ways of slackerdom.”
Anderson tittered again, his face becoming slightly red. That’s interesting, Jon thought idly. Why would he be blushing?
“So, you’re a sophomore?” Jon asked, experimenting with a few formats on the computer.
“Yeah,” Anderson said, sounding self-deprecating again. “I, uh, somehow weaseled my way into being president of this.”
“And five other clubs from what I’ve heard,” Jon answered, smirking at the other boy as he blushed harder. In response to his questioning look, Jon supplied, “News travels fast.”
“Oh God,” Anderson chuckled, shaking his head as he clicked on Wikipedia. “I hope you haven’t heard anything too terrible.”
Jon just grinned. “No, not terrible at all… golden boy.”
Anderson’s eyes darted to his and, for a moment, Jon worried that he’d said the wrong thing. In order to assure the other boy he was just kidding, he offered a small kind smile, hoping he looked sincere. Sometimes he could chip through his own carefully-constructed walls of cynicism when he really needed to… even his mom had said that he could be genuinely nice sometimes.
Anderson’s expression softened and he grinned slightly, those eyes crinkling again and Jon was struck once more, with no insignificant amount of unease, by how attractive he was. Realizing they had somehow been staring at each other for a moment longer than normal, Jon mentally kicked himself and stared at the computer screen again, coughing into his fist uncomfortably.
“Anyway,” Jon ventured, ignoring how strange his voice sounded (What the hell?), “I hope I can be at least a little helpful.”
“Hey, as long as you can write, you will be.” Anderson leaned over conspiratorially, his clean smell wafting towards Jon. He tried to ignore how nice it was. “Half these kids can’t write at all,” he whispered mischievously. “But you seem sharp enough.”
Jon smiled uneasily, shrugging. “I try.”
They sat in halfway amicable silence, Jon asking questions every once in a while in a hushed voice. He looked up at one point to find Tina grinning lasciviously in his direction. He pursed his lips and gave her a quirk of the eyebrows, causing her to laugh and turn back to something Conan was showing her. He caught a look between the two of them, suddenly being struck by how the tall boy smiled at her. Maybe there was something there after all…
Jon gritted his teeth and stared at the screen again, trying to quell his feelings of disappointment. Even if they did like each other, he shouldn’t give up hope, right?
“Alright, kids,” Seinfeld was saying, clapping his hands together from where he had been standing and staring vacantly into space. “I think that’ll do it for today. Same time next week.”
Jon slid out of his chair, giving a terse smile and nod to those passing him as they left. He gave a small wave in Tina and Conan’s direction as they filed out. “So,” Jon said awkwardly to Anderson. “Thanks for showing me the ropes… I guess I’ll see you next week.”
“Um, do you need a ride or anything?” Anderson asked shyly, smiling slightly.
Jon shook his head, hauling up his patched-together backpack from the floor and hoping the other boy didn’t see how shitty it was. Hell, Jon’s entire wardrobe was shitty, why should he suddenly start caring now?
“Uh, I’ve got one, but thanks,” he said, still fighting that weird sense of unease he’d felt pretty much constantly since talking to Anderson.
A look of disappointment flickered across his face but Anderson’s expression only held a smile before Jon could register it. “Well, I guess until next week then.” His eyes crinkled again as he gave Jon a small and awkward half-wave. “Good luck with those goats,” he called over his shoulder.
Jon laughed, going in the opposite direction. “Thanks, man!”
As he made his way, he tried to ignore Anderson’s scent that seemed hell-bent on staying in his nose and set to the task of figuring out where the hell Stephen was.
TO BE CONTINUED?!?!
...yes.
Tune in next time for some unfulfilling interactions, some really awkward interactions, and some really, REALLY unwanted interactions.
ENDNOTE: Um, again, let me apologize for the lameness in my responses to people’s comments last time. Basically, I’m working more than I thought I would and a lot of my time is being taken up with the commute (I’m lame and live in the middle of bumfuck-NOWHERE) but I’m hoping to start hand-writing ideas while commuting now.
On happier things: deepsea_dreamer made fanart! Go take a looksie. I feel famous. On a similar note, would anyone be interested in making a banner for me for this fic? I thought it would look spiffy but I lack the necessary photoshoppiness. Also, I found a good themesong for this thing:
"Love You Madly" by Cake.
Someone seriously needs to make a fanvid using this song. SO AWESOME.
As usual, comment and/or friend me because, well... I like it!
Disclaimer: Any similarity between the fictional version of the person portrayed here and the actual persons is purely coincidental. This is a work of fiction. This is not an attempt to defame the character of said person on the basis of libel, as the work is FICTIONAL (and NOT an intently false statement created with the express purpose of misleading others about the actual character of said person).
Any mention of 'The Daily Show', 'The Colbert Report', 'Viacom', any associated entities, or any copyrighted material pertaining therein is reasonably protected by the Fair Use Rule of the United States Copyright Act of 1976 and is not intended to infringe upon any copyrighted material.
Title: Fast Times at NAMBLA High: Part Thirteen
Author: Your’s truly
Fandom: The Daily Show... with a smattering of guest appearances.
Pairing: Including but not limited to:
Jon/Stephen, Stephen/Paul, Stephen/Craig Kilborn, Jon/Anderson Cooper, Paul/Amy, Rob/Frustration, Ed/Confusion, (Rob/Frustration)/(Ed/Confusion), Mo Rocca/Lewis Black, Sam/Jason, Demetri Martin/Nathan Corddry, Bob Novak/Hair nets, Aasif Mandvi/Tucker Carlson, Stone Phillips/Barbara Walters, Dan Bakkedahl/Rob Riggle, Dane Cook/His ego, Dave Gorman/John Oliver, Jerry Seinfeld/Steve Carell, Bill O’Reilly/Hatred, Keith Olbermann/Everyone, John Hodgeman/Bill Gates, Tucker/Craig, Aasif/Anderson, John Hodgman/Sarah Vowell, Will Ferrell/MOP?, Keith/Dennis Leary, George Clooney/Charm
Featured pairing(s): Rob/Ed, and TOP-SECRET SPECIAL PAIRINGS
Rating: This might just be NC-17
Warning: Crack: it's what's for dinner. Other warnings: AU, drug use, underage drinking, het crap, and Will Ferrell being creepy. For this specific chapter? A strange D/S development. Sort of. Not really. Oh, right, SMUT SMUT SMUUUUT. Also, Nate being bitchy!teenage boy.
A/N: Sorry, guys. I know I blow at getting these things out lately. Ummmm, but it’s long? Also, I’m not really sure where the beginning of this chapter came from. Hopefully it’s good… and sorry to anyone whose comments I didn’t respond to last time. Real life sucks. *runs and hides in shame*
Special side-note: This chapter is dedicated to inconversable and spacemonkey_699; inconversable because her fic Paint It Black is what made me want to see these kids in high school form and spacemonkey_699 because she made me love Rob/Ed.
Length: 6066
Feedback: Feedback helps my crack addiction. Give generously.
Previous chapters:
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Four Point Five: An Interlude of sorts
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten (A)
Chapter Ten (B)
Chapter Ten (C)
Chapter Ten (D)
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Summary: OMG! ANOTHER NEW SUMMARY??? *is intrigued*
It's like a high school fic that isn't lame and is all cracky and shit. Read it.
~An annonymous reader who I totally didn't make up.
BELIEVE THE HYPE.
READ THE STORY.
In this edition of FTANH: brothers are brothers, angry blowjobs are perhaps not the best way to solve anything, and a slew of newbies are introduced.
FAST TIMES AT NAMBLA HIGH
Part Thirteen
“Nate! NATE, for the love of GOD, we’re going to be late! Will you hurry the FUCK UP?!”
“Robert! Language!”
“JUST WAIT A FUCKING SECOND, I’M GETTING MY BAG, ASSMUNCH!”
“Nathan! That goes for you as well!”
Rob sighed and kicked the side of the stairs. Nate was doing this intentionally. Being a pain in the ass seemed to be his choice way of cramping Rob’s style lately and it wasn’t going unnoticed.
“NATE!” Rob practically screamed once more. “WE STILL HAVE TO PICK UP ED! WILL YOU GET YOUR BONY ASS DOWN HERE?!”
“Robert! Inside voice!” his mother chided again from the kitchen.
“Jesus Christ,” his brother spat, appearing at the top of the stairs. “Get your panties out of a bunch.”
“Language!” The tiny woman came out of the kitchen, handing bagged lunches to the two boys. “Honestly. Walter, say something to them.” Their father gave a small grunt from where he sat gazing at his paper in the dining room. Their mother heaved a disparaging sigh and shook her head, wrapping the towel she held in her hands nervously. “Alright, well, your father and I won’t be in this evening but there’s food in the freezer.”
Rob saw Nate roll his eyes skyward in his peripheral vision. “What else is new,” his brother grumbled.
“Alright,” Rob cut him off hurriedly. “We’ve got to go and get Ed.”
Nate made a noise of annoyance but headed towards the door anyway, throwing a, “See you later, mom. Bye dad!” over his shoulder. Rob, for his part, paused and gave his mother a peck on the cheek and a small smile before following his brother. He jumped into the car, turning the ignition on before pulling out.
There was silence in the car, as usual, and Rob tapped his fingers on the wheel in annoyance. Nate had been acting weird lately. And not just his normal, spastic weird, but like… really odd. He had been silent and moody which, though not completely abnormal, was beginning to border on him being way more distant than usual.
Suddenly, paranoia flared through him. Could he know? He glanced his brother’s way. Nate was staring outside innocuously, his face blank. But it could all be an act, Rob reasoned rationally. He could just be pretending to not know. Did he think Rob knew he knew but he was just pretending not to know? Or did he think Rob didn’t think he knew and was pretending not to know he knew?
“What is up with you?” Rob suddenly blurted out, his voice at an odd octave not quite normal for human beings; maybe more fitting for a shrieking bird of some sort.
Nate’s eyes shot over to him for a moment before resolutely fixing on the dashboard. “What do you mean?” he asked nonchalantly, seemingly unfazed by Rob’s outburst.
“You’ve been weird,” Rob pointed out reasonably.
“What do you mean?” Nate retorted again, only this time not bothering to sound nonchalant and now just sounding frustrated. “Any weirder than you’ve been?” He let out a strange grunt and rubbed his eyes, looking hopelessly out the window. Rob was struck with how sad his brother suddenly looked, jaw clenching and unclenching as he abused his cuticles with his teeth.
Sighing, Rob looked back to the road and gritted his teeth. “Don’t chew your fingers,” he muttered harshly. His brother snorted in derision but his hand dropped from his mouth anyway, playing with the seat belt strapped across his lap. “How…” Rob suddenly found himself asking awkwardly. “How have I been ‘weird’?”
Nate sighed but in a more resigned than annoyed way. “Well…” he trailed off, staring at his nails. “You’ve been… I don’t know… weird!” He seemed like he wanted to continue but instead opted to start fraying the edge of his backpack strap.
“That’s not an answer, Nate!” Rob was suddenly yelling, feeling angry heat coming to his face. Why in the hell was he being so difficult?
“Since when do you want to talk, Rob?” Nate shot back, his voice rising as well.
“What?” the older boy sputtered, glancing over to where his brother was glaring at him. “What the hell does that mean?”
“We don’t talk, Rob!” Nate yelled, throwing up his hands in exasperation. “Why the hell do you suddenly want to start now?”
Rob gaped at him, feeling his face getting redder… only this time in embarrassment. “All I wanted to know was why the fuck you’ve been acting like an awkward-ass freak,” he replied quietly, the way he shoved the turn signal on the only indication that he was still angry.
“Oh, right,” Nate retorted, smirking. “Like you have any room to judge on that subject.”
Rob just shook his head and pulled into Ed’s driveway. “If you’re going to be a little bitch, you might as well get in the back,” he snapped, even though Nate was already crawling over the seats.
“Fuck you,” was all his brother said petulantly, leaning back with his arms crossed forcefully on his chest and glowering at the seat in front of him.
Growling in annoyance, Rob resolutely looked away from his brother, the question pertaining to the younger boy’s knowledge about Ed and himself niggling at the back of his mind. Something was up either way, but what the fuck was Rob supposed to do about it? Hug the fucking grumpiness away in brotherly love? Fuck that.
“Hey guys,” Ed chirped cheerfully as he plopped into the passenger’s seat. His demeanor automatically became more subdued as he took in the chilly atmosphere of the interior of the car. “Um… everything okay?” he asked uneasily as he glanced back at the still-scowling Nate. Nate didn’t respond but just looked out the window.
“Nate’s being an ass,” Rob stated flippantly, earning a glare from his brother which he chose not to acknowledge. “Just ignore him.”
Ed nodded slowly, both eyebrows raised. “Well, okay then.”
An uncomfortable silence descended in the car, two of the boys glaring in separate directions with one glancing in confusion at them. Soon, much to everyone’s relief, they arrived at the school and were parked.
“I’ll meet you at the normal spot, okay?” Rob asked testily as Nate launched from the car. When he didn’t respond and just continued to march towards the school, Rob rolled down the window and called out, “You can forget about a ride if you keep it up with that shitty attitude!”
Silence reigned once again as the two boys left contemplated the spot where Nate had disappeared.
“Mister,” Ed suddenly murmured, chuckling.
“What?” Rob asked sharply, though once he looked at the amusement on his friend’s face he softened a bit.
“It sounded like that was missing from that statement,” Ed answered quietly, a smirk playing on his face. “’No rides if you’re going to keep that attitude up, mister!’” He chuckled again causing Rob to smile in spite of himself.
“God, I do sound like his dad…” he muttered, rubbing his eyes tiredly.
“So… is everything okay?” Ed ventured once Rob continued to stare forlornly at the steering wheel.
“I’m just… he’s being all…” He trailed off, searching for words. “Do I not talk?” he suddenly asked in a rush.
“Talk?” Ed replied, blinking.
“Yeah, like… have conversations and shit.”
Ed just stared into the distance, a contemplative look on his face. “Well…” he said after a moment, a small smile making its way onto his lips. “Not really.” He then full-out grinned. “You seem to have issues with opening up.”
“What?’ Rob scoffed. “I open up all the fucking time! You don’t know what you’re talking about!” He huffed and crossed his arms, the engine still idling slightly.
“Rob,” Ed continued kindly, looking on his friend with affection. Rob tried to ignore the heat the intent stare caused to pool in the pit of his stomach. How the fuck did Ed have this power over him? “Rob, you just… you get all mad when you try to talk about how you feel. I mean, I’m terrified about 90% of the time that you’re going to murder me and they’ll never find the body.” Was Ed referencing the hobo thing again? God, could he not just let that go? “Not that I’m really, er, complaining…” Suddenly his good old awkward Ed was back as his friend tried to compensate for his former honesty. “Like… it makes life… exciting?”
“So basically,” Rob responded, feeling oddly blank, “I’m a closed-off jerk who seems overly violent.”
Ed chewed his lip. “I’m not saying that exactly, but you’re certainly a… er… loose cannon?”
Rob snorted, his fingers digging into his sockets again seeing as he suddenly felt insanely tired. “Let’s go,” he muttered idly, swinging his door open. Ed followed suit, tagging along obediently as his friend made his way towards the school.
“Do… do we talk?” Rob asked quietly, giving Ed a sidelong glance.
Ed paused, that thoughtful look on his face. It was weird… since his declaration of love (which Rob was most certainly not acknowledging in any way, shape or form), Ed had seemed more relaxed. Chill almost. He had been much less prone to outbursts of nervousness and had an almost serene air… for Ed anyway.
Finally, he shook his head a bit. “No, not really.”
Rob began walking faster, his trepidation spurring his legs on at a greater speed. “And, what,” he demanded, “that doesn’t bother you?”
“Sometimes,” his friend answered honestly, a slightly shy smile on his face. “But it’s you. And, you know… I like what makes you you.”
Rob froze in the middle of the hall, feeling his heart rate increasing as he turned his head to regard his friend intensely. He felt dizzy as the emotions rushed through him… he couldn’t decipher what they all were but there was the voice again, insistent and nagging and making Rob, yet again, feel insane.
You love him.
Rob pushed the thought down.
No, he responded resolutely. I just want to fuck him.
Grabbing Ed by his upper arm, he dragged him roughly down the hall, eyes casting about hastily as he searched for somewhere to go.
“Rob,” he heard Ed say in the distance. “Rob, we have to go to class. Rob.”
“So we’ll be late,” the other boy grated out huskily. Ed shivered under his hand. Finally locating what appeared to be an empty classroom, Rob practically kicked the door open and hauled Ed inside before shutting and locking them in the deserted room. Shoving Ed roughly to an area where no one could see them from the hall, Rob pressed him up against the wall.
“Well,” Ed chuckled rather breathlessly, “this is certainly better than the bathroom…”
“Shut up,” Rob replied gruffly though not without affection. He slowly removed Ed’s glasses and tossed them onto a nearby desk as both boys removed their backpacks. He pushed Ed more fully against the wall again, pulling out his friend’s tucked-in shirt.
Pressing his lips against the other boy’s, Rob pushed his thigh in between Ed’s legs. Ed pressed forward eagerly, moving with Rob and opening his mouth slightly to let their tongues slide together. Rob marveled dizzily at how much easier this was getting… only a week ago they were pretty much as awkward as could be, now… now there was the rhythm and he found it addicting.
He hastily opened up his pants before reaching for Ed’s fly, smiling against the other boy as he moaned when Rob stroked him slightly through the cloth of his boxers. Touching Ed shouldn’t be such a turn on… he knew that, his body just seemed to disagree vigorously seeing as his own erection was straining against his still zipped up pants. Ed started to try and remedy that situation, his fingers beginning to slide the zipper down but in a flash of instinct, Rob pulled them away by the wrists before pinning them on either side of Ed’s head. The other boy didn’t seem to mind since a moan escaped him again as he thrust ineffectually against Rob’s thigh.
Rob let one of his hands drop from Ed’s wrists in order to open his fly himself, letting his pants drop to the ground. He worked off the other boy’s pants as well as Ed breathed heavily against his neck between the wet hot kisses he planted there. Finally they were both naked from the waist down (if, of course, you ignored their socks and pants bunched up at their ankles) and Rob stared down at their slightly touching erections as he breathed heavily through his nose.
“Turn around,” he heard someone say, realizing with a start that it was him uttering the order. His voice sounded odd… all gravel and, well… manly. Ed, looking dazed, did as he was told. Rob wasn’t quite sure what he was trying to do but, in a moment of inspiration, pressed long-ways against Ed’s back.
“Do you like this?” he asked gruffly as he reached around and gripped Ed.
The other boy’s forehead clunked against the wall and he grunted out a rough, “Yes.”
Moaning as he felt the words exiting his friend’s mouth rumble their vibrations through his own chest, Rob began to thrust in between Ed’s legs. Since the other boy was slightly taller, though Rob was usually loath to admit that, at the moment it was proving quite convenient since he could move between Ed’s legs without actually having to enter him. Sure, it wasn’t the most comfortable thing in the world seeing as he was doing it dry but he rutted helplessly as the thought came to him that this… this was almost like fucking him.
He groaned loudly and spit onto his hand, rubbing it on his erection in order to gain a better slide. This had the desired effect and soon the two were rocking against each other, Rob mouth latched onto Ed’s neck as Ed panted heavily against the wall.
“God…” Rob found himself muttering in that same guttural voice. “I want…”
“What?” Ed prompted, sounding lost.
“I want to fuck you so bad…” Rob gasped as Ed pushed back a bit.
Suddenly, the other boy stilled, the muscles beneath Rob tensing slightly. Protectiveness flaring through him, Rob rubbed a comforting hand over his shoulders.
“Not now, Ed…” he murmured softly into his friend’s ear, a not often heard tone of sympathy in his voice. “I just meant at some point.”
Ed seemed to find that satisfactory since he once again thrust back onto Rob, making him groan loudly. They fell into the rhythm, that awesome, mind-blowing rhythm again and Rob knew he was coming close.
“Rob…” Ed was grunting somewhere at the edges of his mind.
“What?” Rob asked distractedly.
“I want to, shit…” he trailed off as Rob did something a little different with his wrist. “I want to tell… people… about us…”
Ice suddenly filling his veins, Rob fought the panic that made his stomach queasy. He had been terrified of the day this would happen… when Ed would finally want to do the stupid thing and tell everyone that they were fucking… fucking faggots together.
After being still for a moment, he heard Ed breathing nervously against him. “Don’t be stupid,” was all Rob said before going to work again.
But Ed apparently had other plans. Making a noise of anger, the other boy suddenly wheeled around and grabbed Rob, pinning him against the wall by his shoulders. Rob felt an odd jump of arousal as the Ed that faced him wasn’t his normal, blundering, sweet Ed but… but a seriously pissed-off Ed. He didn’t say a word; he just glared into Rob’s eyes, his own burning with anger and perhaps a bit of hurt.
Still not saying anything, he dropped to his knees, shoving Rob’s hips against the wall and taking him roughly into his mouth. Rob let out a shuddering gasp, feeling all his joints turn into jell-o. What the hell was going on? Even though it was Ed kneeling before him, even though it was Ed who was degrading himself by taking Rob into his mouth, even though it was Ed who for all intents and purposes who should be the subservient one… Rob felt like he had no control. And, with a twinge of self-loathing drowned out by his insane arousal, he knew he liked it.
Ed continued to glare up at him, working over Rob without any care whatsoever; teeth dragging carelessly and head bobbing in a steady rhythm. Rob felt himself nearly convulsing as his fingers scrabbled against the wall seeing as he didn’t feel like it was his place to put them in Ed’s hair as he normally would have done…
Wait, “wasn’t his place”? What the hell was he thinking? Ed wasn’t the boss of him!
But, no, right now he was and Rob didn’t know how he could stop it. Or if he really wanted to.
He shuddered as Ed pulled him in deeper, closing his eyes and turning his head away since the other boy’s intense stare had become too much for him. He made an embarrassing mewling sound when he was let go, his eyes peering open to see Ed place two fingers in his mouth. He wet them silently, the anger and arousal still evident on his face. Without warning, he took Rob in again, causing the standing boy to let out a choked gasp and his fingernails to dig into his palms.
Then he felt something strange… something prodding at his backside. His eyes flew open for a moment as he realized with horror at what the fingers had been for when a helpless broken sob was wrenched from him. Ed’s digits entered him without even a little preparation and, with the burning pain searing through him, he let out a gurgled and helpless, “F-fuuuuuck,” before climaxing violently.
As his swimming vision cleared, he saw Ed get to his feet, a solemn expression on his face. “How…” Rob asked dazedly, his throat raw. “How did you…?”
“I’ve been doing research,” Ed said, looking sad and frustrated all at the same time.
“I’m…” Rob tried, reaching out for his friend, but Ed just shied away and pulled up his pants and tucking his shirt in. Rob could see he still had a hard-on. “Let me…” Rob murmured, trying to get close to him again.
Ed, however, avoided his touch. “I’ll see you later, Rob,” he muttered quietly, grabbing his glasses and backpack and making his way to the door.
“Ed…” Rob called helplessly, but he was gone.
Rob stared at the door, feeling ashamed and worse than he ever had in his entire life. Ed had actually figured out how to punish him in the worst way possible… by not allowing Rob to get him off.
Sinking to the floor, Rob wiped ineffectually at the tears forming in his eyes. It was strange that his best orgasm ever would have the worst after-effects… he’d never felt so weak in his life. This was what Ed was doing to him… breaking him down somehow. And yet, it was Rob who felt guilty about it.
He swallowed hard, eyes still burning. This wasn’t fair. Ed couldn’t do this to him. He couldn’t just… he couldn’t just leave Rob! That wasn’t fair.
Or is it? one of the traitorous voices asked. Couldn’t it be that you just don’t deserve him?
A pathetic sob wrenched out of him. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He had to be a man. He had to be.
Eyes screwing up in frustrating, the tears finally leaked out; another sob coming out of him, the shame seeping into every fiber of his being as he cried on the floor. He wasn’t sure how long he had been there when the tears finally subsided and his breathing slowed. He blinked rapidly, looking down at himself. God, he looked like a mess.
Getting unsteadily to his feet, he dressed until he figured he looked halfway presentable. Scrubbing at his eyes, he paused as he saw his reflection in the glass of the window. He looked like a Mack truck had hit him. He sighed disparagingly before taking a deep breath and puffing out his chest.
He was going to be okay. He and Ed, he amended faux-confidently, were going to be okay. He would make it be okay.
Now… just how was he going to do that?
~~~~~~~~~~
Jon glanced at the paper gripped in his hands. It said the meeting was in the downstairs computer lab, but for all intents and purposes… the room before him looked fairly abandoned. He peered around the hall again, feeling like he was probably making a mistake. Why was he doing this again?
To make friends, he told himself sternly. So you’re not a fucking loner your whole high school career.
Of course, he was probably making friends outside of doing stupidass clubs. He was a sociable person deep down after all. But Mr. Carell’s words came back to him and, sighing in annoyance, he had to agree that doing some extracurricular activities would be best.
“Hey!” a voice shouted, making him jump. What the…? His stomach dropped as he turned to face its owner. “You.”
“Uh, hey Mr. Ferrell,” Jon said awkwardly, backing up towards the computer lab door. “How are you?”
“Don’t play games with me,” the strange man retorted, eyes narrowed. “I know how your mind works. You’re not pulling the wool over my eyes! No… no siree. Not at all.”
Jon chuckled nervously. “Um… well… I’m not really trying to, but good to know.”
“Why are you loitering?” the man demanding, pointing a threatening mop in Jon’s direction.
“I’m not!” Jon cried, putting up his hands in defense. “I was looking for the computer lab and, oh look! There it is! See you later!” Without another word, Jon slipped through the door before leaning against it heavily. That was close.
“Who enters?” a new, disembodied voice demanded.
Jon let out a small noise of distress. What was with everyone? “Um… Jon Leibowitz?” he called uneasily.
“And why, Jon Leibowitz, have you entered?” the voice demanded.
“Uh… I heard Newspaper club was in here…” he looked around, trying to find the person. “Am I right, or…?”
“Hodgman,” he heard someone else say, “stop fucking around.” With that, two boys came out from behind a long row of computers. “Sorry about that. He gets very protective of his babies,” the dark-skinned boy drawled, smirking.
A quirky and pudgy kid with glasses surveyed him warily. “You’re here for Newspaper?”
“Yeah…” Jon glanced at the darker boy who just shrugged and rolled his eyes.
“And that’s with…?” the bespectacled boy asked.
“Seinfeld?” Jon answered uneasily.
“Okay!” the boy said cheerfully, seemingly satisfied that Jon hadn’t in fact come to steal all of his computers. “Sorry about that. Just need to make sure you’re not a, you know… questionable character.” He glanced around nervously, as if such characters were lurking around every corner. “I’m John Hodgman,” he said with a flourish, shaking Jon’s hand. “Resident computer expert.”
The other boy snorted. “And I’m Aasif Mandvi,” he said with equal flourish, a tinge of an accent coming through as he pronounced his name. “Resident Indian.” He glanced Jon up and down, the smirk still on his face. “Leibowitz. So… you’re a Jew?” he asked, looking supremely amused by such a notion.
“Yeah,” Jon responded, feeling wary. “Why?”
“Oh, no reason,” Aasif responded, dropping into one of the chairs that faced away from Jon. “Just glad that I’m not the only minority around here for the pricks to pound on anymore.”
Jon chuckled dryly, trying not to feel annoyed. “Glad to be of service,” he muttered darkly, glancing about the room. “So, uh, is this it or…?”
“Oh, no,” John responded, evidently much friendlier when he wasn’t being suspicious of the other boy’s character. “They’re in the back room. We just stick around as tech support.”
“And by ‘we’ he means himself,” Aasif said sardonically, the smirk on his face reflecting in the computer screen. “They just keep me in here because they think me being Indian makes me some sort of computer genius.”
“You’re not that bad,” John said, obviously not convinced by his own words. Aasif just snorted and clicked on a random website. “Anyway, just go through there to the back,” John supplied pointing the way. “They’re all in there.”
“Thanks,” Jon replied idly, giving John a nod and regarding the back of Aasif’s head.
He made his way to the back, taking a deep breath as he faced the door. This couldn’t be that bad… could it?
“Jon!” Seinfeld said, sounding surprised and genuinely glad to see him as he entered. “Good, glad you made it.” Jon gave a halting smile in response with a slight nod before he glanced around the rest of the room. His small smile turned into a grin as he saw Tina beaming at him alongside Conan. “Alright guys, this is Jon Leibowitz, the new kid. Uh, just introduce yourself as we go on today.” Everyone murmured an affirmative and Jon took a seat next to Tina.
“I didn’t know you did this,” he said softly, smiling at her.
“Yeah, well, I am the head writer after all,” she replied smugly.
Conan rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that means a huge amount.”
“Shut up,” she scowled, smacking him with her notebook. “At least I don’t just write sarcastic columns about what’s ‘in’ and ‘out.’” She addressed Jon again. “Last issue, saying ‘tender’ was the new ‘tight.’” She gave Conan an appraising once-over. “Very impressive journalism.”
“Alright everyone,” a nasally voice then began. “Over the summer there were some very interesting developments in the area of…” Jon found himself openly staring at the short, mousy-haired girl who was studiously reading the notes before her. Her voice, Jon noted, was probably the strangest he had ever encountered in his life.
Tina seemed to notice his enraptured wonder. “That’s Sarah Vowell,” she whispered to him. “She’s a senior. And a genius, for all intents and purposes. She’s our main researcher, treasurer, secretary and pretty much all-around walking encyclopedia.”
Jon nodded absently. “Does she… does she smoke or something? Or just ODed on helium?”
Tina’s laugh was hushed. “No, she just talks that way.”
Conan leaned forward. “She wrote a kickass article about Lincoln… she’s got a serious thing for him,” he said, looking just a little dreamy.
“Yeah,” Tina replied dryly, eying Conan with a raised eyebrow. “She’s not the only one.”
“Thank you, Sarah,” Mr. Seinfeld said once the girl had finished. “Anderson, take it away.”
“Thanks, Mr. Seinfeld.” A boy maybe a little taller than Jon got to his feet, looking towards the rest of the group. “Hi all, I’m Anderson Cooper and I just wanted to say welcome back to all those old faces out there,” he gave a quiet and sincere smile, “ and thanks for joining us to all the new folks!” He paused and searched his papers. The kid was good-looking in a way Jon found hard not to resent, with a strong chin and brilliantly blue eyes. “Uh, right, so we’re going to get started with brain-storming for article ideas and then maybe go into the computer lab to try out some layouts. Sound good?” Everyone in the room murmured the assent. Anderson grinned, his eyes crinkling as his straight white teeth flashed. “Great, let’s get to brainstorming.”
As the room filled with rather half-hearted attempts at ideas, Tina leaned towards Jon again. “Cooper’s only a sophomore but he’s already the president of six clubs, including this one. That and he’s ridiculously rich,” she muttered to him, making Jon raise an eyebrow. “I also heard he’s, like, 3 years ahead in English.” She grinned and shook her head. “That’s what I call hardcore motivation. He’s kind of this school’s golden boy.”
“Then why haven’t I seen him anywhere?” Jon asked quietly, scribbling down some notes on an idea he liked.
Tina just shrugged and raised an eyebrow at him. “Being the golden boy takes up a lot of time, apparently.”
Jon nodded absently, watching the way Anderson nodded calmly and patiently while kindly turning down some of the more idiotic ideas that a few of the other kids brought forward. He seemed startlingly professional in a way that wasn’t common for people their age, with his nice dress shirt and pressed pants, hair groomed to the T. Jon really wasn’t sure if he was jealous or in awe at that point, especially seeing as the kid seemed perfectly nice in every way possible.
Jon chose to stay silent during the initial session, just smiling uneasily at those who happened to glance his way. He knew he had good ideas… he just wasn’t sure if they were good enough.
“Well,” Anderson finally said after the session had lasted for about a half an hour. “That’s probably good for now. How about we go to the lab, okay?” Everyone got to their feet and Jon lingered behind Tina and Conan as they argued animatedly about whether James Bond could beat Superman.
Jon, of course, knew that it was James Bond. Sure, Superman had superpowers, but Bond had gadgets and had the sharpest wit around. So what if Superman could dodge a bullet? Bond would totally figure out a way to get Kryptonite and shoot that mofo. That and Jon had always thought Clark Kent seemed like a dud anyway.
As he walked mutely through the door, lost in his own little world as he imagined who else Bond could take on (Spiderman: easy, he was a wimp and slow on the uptake when the issue at hand wasn’t science-related; Aquaman was just lame; the Hulk would be too easy…), when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Starting, he turned to find himself facing Anderson.
“Hi,” he said a little awkwardly. “I, uh, noticed you were new so I thought I’d introduce myself personally…”
Jon smiled slightly, nodding to the other boy. “Yeah, hi, I’m Jon Leibowitz.”
“Anderson, but you can call me Andy.” He flashed that handsome grin again and Jon felt himself smiling back sincerely for the first time that day. “So, where’d you move here from?” he asked conversationally as they walked between the computers.
“Jersey,” Jon answered. “I was, uh, kicked out of town,” he suddenly improvised haltingly.
Anderson didn’t miss a beat, smile growing mischievous as his eyes crinkled even more. “Oh really? What for?”
Jon shrugged before sighing sadly and shaking his head. “I guess my goat breeding techniques were just a tad, uh, too unorthodox for them.”
He felt his heart suddenly swell as Anderson let out a surprised and nerdy laugh. Ah, so the golden boy did have a weakness. Jon felt his eyebrows shoot into his hairline as Anderson clamped a hand over his mouth.
“Some, um, laugh you have there,” Jon said, grinning in spite of himself.
Anderson shrugged, all self-deprecation. Jon suddenly realized that Stephen may have a runner-up for most charming kid at school. “Yeah, it just accentuates my shining personality,” he smiled shyly. “You know, lets people be aware that I’m a nerd from the get-go so they don’t get any funny ideas.”
“Oh, I totally get you there,” Jon responded, only feeling mild residual awkwardness. “I like to wear a cape around usually, but my mom was afraid the goat stories would carry and people would recognize me. I’m trying to throw people off this time by appearing to be normal.”
There was that giggle again and Jon barked out a helpless laugh in response. “Ahem,” Anderson coughed, apparently trying to get a hold of himself. “We should, uh, try and be productive.”
Jon sighed sadly, plopping into one of the computer chairs. “That totally goes against my nature as a slacker,” he pouted, clicking disconsolately at the Firefox icon on the desktop.
“Well,” Anderson replied seriously, sitting primly in the chair next to him, “people say I’m an over-achiever so uh, we’ll just balance each other out then?” His eyes slid shyly to Jon’s own.
The older boy barked out a laugh again, shaking his head. “Whatever you say, man. I tend to be very persuasive in the ways of slackerdom.”
Anderson tittered again, his face becoming slightly red. That’s interesting, Jon thought idly. Why would he be blushing?
“So, you’re a sophomore?” Jon asked, experimenting with a few formats on the computer.
“Yeah,” Anderson said, sounding self-deprecating again. “I, uh, somehow weaseled my way into being president of this.”
“And five other clubs from what I’ve heard,” Jon answered, smirking at the other boy as he blushed harder. In response to his questioning look, Jon supplied, “News travels fast.”
“Oh God,” Anderson chuckled, shaking his head as he clicked on Wikipedia. “I hope you haven’t heard anything too terrible.”
Jon just grinned. “No, not terrible at all… golden boy.”
Anderson’s eyes darted to his and, for a moment, Jon worried that he’d said the wrong thing. In order to assure the other boy he was just kidding, he offered a small kind smile, hoping he looked sincere. Sometimes he could chip through his own carefully-constructed walls of cynicism when he really needed to… even his mom had said that he could be genuinely nice sometimes.
Anderson’s expression softened and he grinned slightly, those eyes crinkling again and Jon was struck once more, with no insignificant amount of unease, by how attractive he was. Realizing they had somehow been staring at each other for a moment longer than normal, Jon mentally kicked himself and stared at the computer screen again, coughing into his fist uncomfortably.
“Anyway,” Jon ventured, ignoring how strange his voice sounded (What the hell?), “I hope I can be at least a little helpful.”
“Hey, as long as you can write, you will be.” Anderson leaned over conspiratorially, his clean smell wafting towards Jon. He tried to ignore how nice it was. “Half these kids can’t write at all,” he whispered mischievously. “But you seem sharp enough.”
Jon smiled uneasily, shrugging. “I try.”
They sat in halfway amicable silence, Jon asking questions every once in a while in a hushed voice. He looked up at one point to find Tina grinning lasciviously in his direction. He pursed his lips and gave her a quirk of the eyebrows, causing her to laugh and turn back to something Conan was showing her. He caught a look between the two of them, suddenly being struck by how the tall boy smiled at her. Maybe there was something there after all…
Jon gritted his teeth and stared at the screen again, trying to quell his feelings of disappointment. Even if they did like each other, he shouldn’t give up hope, right?
“Alright, kids,” Seinfeld was saying, clapping his hands together from where he had been standing and staring vacantly into space. “I think that’ll do it for today. Same time next week.”
Jon slid out of his chair, giving a terse smile and nod to those passing him as they left. He gave a small wave in Tina and Conan’s direction as they filed out. “So,” Jon said awkwardly to Anderson. “Thanks for showing me the ropes… I guess I’ll see you next week.”
“Um, do you need a ride or anything?” Anderson asked shyly, smiling slightly.
Jon shook his head, hauling up his patched-together backpack from the floor and hoping the other boy didn’t see how shitty it was. Hell, Jon’s entire wardrobe was shitty, why should he suddenly start caring now?
“Uh, I’ve got one, but thanks,” he said, still fighting that weird sense of unease he’d felt pretty much constantly since talking to Anderson.
A look of disappointment flickered across his face but Anderson’s expression only held a smile before Jon could register it. “Well, I guess until next week then.” His eyes crinkled again as he gave Jon a small and awkward half-wave. “Good luck with those goats,” he called over his shoulder.
Jon laughed, going in the opposite direction. “Thanks, man!”
As he made his way, he tried to ignore Anderson’s scent that seemed hell-bent on staying in his nose and set to the task of figuring out where the hell Stephen was.
TO BE CONTINUED?!?!
...yes.
Tune in next time for some unfulfilling interactions, some really awkward interactions, and some really, REALLY unwanted interactions.
ENDNOTE: Um, again, let me apologize for the lameness in my responses to people’s comments last time. Basically, I’m working more than I thought I would and a lot of my time is being taken up with the commute (I’m lame and live in the middle of bumfuck-NOWHERE) but I’m hoping to start hand-writing ideas while commuting now.
On happier things: deepsea_dreamer made fanart! Go take a looksie. I feel famous. On a similar note, would anyone be interested in making a banner for me for this fic? I thought it would look spiffy but I lack the necessary photoshoppiness. Also, I found a good themesong for this thing:
"Love You Madly" by Cake.
Someone seriously needs to make a fanvid using this song. SO AWESOME.
As usual, comment and/or friend me because, well... I like it!
Disclaimer: Any similarity between the fictional version of the person portrayed here and the actual persons is purely coincidental. This is a work of fiction. This is not an attempt to defame the character of said person on the basis of libel, as the work is FICTIONAL (and NOT an intently false statement created with the express purpose of misleading others about the actual character of said person).
Any mention of 'The Daily Show', 'The Colbert Report', 'Viacom', any associated entities, or any copyrighted material pertaining therein is reasonably protected by the Fair Use Rule of the United States Copyright Act of 1976 and is not intended to infringe upon any copyrighted material.