Another Day

By Bradley Scott

Published on May 9, 2011

Gay

Another Day 11 - Flash

Author: bradley.scott19@yahoo.com Another Day 11 - The Flash

Disclaimer: This story falls under the "High school" section and may involve sex between minors. The minors in this story are purely fictional, and in no way is this story based on real underage illegal sex.

This story will involve sex between two or more males(eventually), and if this offends you, or if,

by the laws of your country, you should not be reading this, then you should leave this page or all responsibility for reading this document will fall to you.

********************

I sat there at my computer, not really knowing what to do. I wanted to chat to someone on MSN, but everyone was at ... what's-her-name's party, so no one was online. I went through the list of games I had installed. Nothing was there that I was really in the mood for playing.

It was completely miserable outside. It was raining very heavily, and the wind was blowing so strongly that the raindrops were almost moving horizontally. The rain hammered against my glass door.

I was very drunk by then, having finished every last drop of booze in my room, and I was almost... happy. The weather helped, too. I'd always been a fan of storms. The sounds, the smells. It drowned everything else out. I couldn't hear myself think in this kind of racous noise.

Which, right now, was a good thing. I'm an over-thinker, and now seemed like a very good time to not think.

I got up to make myself a cup of tea. I would just watch a movie on my PC or something. I had a whole bunch on my hard drive. I finished making my tea and sat down. I opened my movie folder and began scanning down the list - and then there was a huge flash, and everything went dark.

Dammit. The Power. The storm had obviously gotten to it. We were too low to be hit by lightening directly, but our area always went down during storms. I checked out my window - yup. Everyone else's houses were dark, and the street lights along the beach road were all off.

Crap.

I went to my cupboard and got out a few candles. More than a few, I guess. I'd been hording for just such an occasion. I set them around my room and used my zippo to light them. I got a zippo for Christmas from my big sister. She thought it was hilarious that I wanted one - because I don't smoke. At least not often, or as far as she knew. I just thought zippo's were really cool. I've smoked before, and I do have a pack of cigarettes stashed, in case the mood ever takes me. But it's been so long.... I was so young, and stupid when I first tried it. I didn't really like it. I've always had too short an attention span to get addicted to anything anyway.

My room was ablaze with the light of the candles by the time I was done. I thought about the fire risk, but I knew I wouldn't fall asleep with all that light around. I grabbed a book and lay on my bed reading. The flickering candlelight was probably bad for my eyes, but I didn't really care. I badly needed something to do. I needed not to think.

The book was a really good one. Stephen King, actually. The Shining. Scary books had extra effect in weather like this. After a few chapters I was basically checking the dark corners every couple of minutes. I loved it.

Eric liked Stephen King, I thought suddenly.

And then I put the book down.

Fantastic. Now I need something else to read. I went to my book-case, and squinted in the dark to see if there was anything out of my old books that I'd want to reread.

While I was kneeling down, I heard a strange noise. It sounded like someone was knocking on my door. Just the wind, I thought. But then it got harder. I turned around and looked.

My scream froze in my throat. Someone was standing at my door. The candle light flickered on the dark figure. A brief flash of lightening outlined the silhouette of a man.

It was a good thing I couldn't muster my voice for a good scream – because I'm fairly certain I would have screamed like a girl.

The figure hunched forward, wiped a spot on the window with it's sleeve and cupped his hands around his face to see inside of the room more clearly, and in the flicker of candle light, I thought I recognised the face.

"Oh my god.... Jared?" I got up and grabbed a flashlight, turned it on, and pointed it at him. He jumped back and covered his eyes.

Yup, that's Jared, I thought. What the hell's he doing here?

I realised that why I was standing there wondering this, he was standing out in the torrential rainfall and being blinded by a flashlight beam.

Oops.

I turned the flashlight off and ran to the door, and pulled it open a bit. He shuffled in, and I shut it quickly, before my floor could get more wet.

It didn't really help - he was drenched, and dripping everywhere.

"Thanks, I uh-" He gagged. I quickly pulled him to the bathroom. He feel to his knees in front of the toilet and began puking. Gross. At least he made it to the toilet though. I waited while he finished.... talking to Ralph on the big white telephone.

"Thanks" He said again, slowly pulling himself. He went to my basin and drank some water. "Toothpaste" He grabbed my toothpaste tube and squeezed a big glob of toothpaste onto his tounge, and then drank a bit more water and began gargling. Note to self, I thought, get a new tube of toothpaste. Thank god he wasn't trying to use my brush.

He spat out the toothpaste water, and splashed his face with water. He got up and turned to me again.

"Thanks.... I... the storm... was walking home and stuff." He was slurring his words quite heavily, and his eyes were very bloodshot. He was clearly very drunk.

"Why were you walking home.... Weren't you supposed to be at that party? At Sarah's." Her name had come back to me. She was a few grades lower than me at school - which meant I didn't really register her existence. Aside from her being the incredibly lucky ho' who was getting screwed by Jared.

But anyway...

"Sarah... broke up with me." He swallowed what looked like a half-sob and frowned. "And she was all over this random douche-bag. Bitch."

"I'm.... sorry." I didn't know what to say. I guess I knew the feeling, being dumped. But my break-up was the result of my boyfriend being a repressed daddy's boy, not a slavering ho-bag.

He just stood there, shaking in anger. It took me a few minutes to realise it wasn't anger that was making him do that - he was freezing. It was him shivering.

"Oh shit. You're cold. Let me grab a towel." I realised there was actually one right next to me, being the bathroom and all. I grabbed it and passed to him, and he dried his face and hair.

"I can get you some clothes." I offered. He nodded groggily.

I went to my cupboard and grabbed a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and some boxers. I reckoned he didn't need much else right now. I took them to the bathroom and put them down on the counter next to the basin.

"I'll just let you..." I stepped out of the bathroom. I looked and saw him trying to pull of his shirt and jacket. It was a bit comic. He couldn't get it past his waist for a while. I almost laughed. Then he pulled it over his head, and it got stuck there. He struggled for a bit, and then fell over.

Oh crap. I quickly ran to help him get up.

The shirt fell back down and his head was free.

"I'm too drunk for this." He chuckled weakly.

"Yes you are," I agreed. "Need help?"

"Uh-huh." He smiled. "You're a really good friend."

"Sure. Lift your arms up."

He lifted his arms up, and I had a flash of dressing my little siblings. They also did that. It made me giggle a bit. I realised I was also a bit drunk. But nowhere near as bad as Jared. I'd run out of alcohol - but he'd just been at a house party, and there was always more booze at a house party.

I grabbed the bottom of his dripping shirt and pulled it up.

Oh god. He was really hot. I had forgotten about that. His perfect chest was right there in front of me - muscular, tan, wet, and not to mention, cold enough so that his nipples could practically take my eye out. I pulled the shirt off of him, and moved my gaze back to his face before he noticed I was staring. He had that stupid, intoxicating smile plastered on his face again. I quickly grabbed the towel and started drying off his chest, before I realised what I was doing. I paused, and I could feel his warm pec's through the towel. I looked back at his face.

He smiled more broadly and grabbed me around the waist. Then he leaned forward, and kissed me - clumsily, and forcefully. I tasted the mint of my toothpaste in his mouth. In my daze, I had time to think that I was glad he had used it. My reaction would have been a bit different had his mouth tasted like vomit.

I pulled back, gasping for air. I had leaned into him fully, without noticing. He looked at me again and smiled wickedly. He reached down slowly to start unbuckling his pants, brushing my crotch on his way down.

"Whoa, Jared!" I disentangled myself. "Isn't this a bit..... I donno... You're drunk. I don't think we should do this."

His smiled just got wider.

"I'm drunk. I'm hard and I'm HORNY." He grabbed me behind my neck and forced his tounge into my mouth, before pulling back. "You really saying you don't want this to happen?"

"I.... don't...." He kissed me again.

Stupid fucking hormones, I thought, giving in.

*********************

Note from Author:

Okay, so it's been a really long time. Sorry about that, if you liked the story a while back. Also, if you're a new reader – don't worry – I'll try to be better at constant updates. Any compliments, complaints, or just wanna say hi – email me.

(bradley.scott@yahoo.com)

(And, I feel obliged to do this - Check out my other story: Perfection is Overrated, and Personal Blog: Rainbows And Deathsteeds.

Next: Chapter 4


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