Skyfall

Skyfall: Reboot Chapter 1

The story you are about to view contains content only suitable for adult readers and has gay themed sexual descriptions. Please forward your comments to operidot1919@gmail.com. Donate to Nifty! (http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html)

I really want to use this moment to thank all the readers who've messaged me and supported me in my down time. This rebooted, better story is for each and every one of you.

-          Peridot

Chapter 1.0

He could always tell when he was sleeping. The world was his own design, there were no pretences as to what he could do, he dared to fly through the skies, and even further into the cosmos wrapped in his power. The earth was not a staple of his dreams, it had never been a place he cared to inhabit in the great heavens his mind mustered. It was a cage that he, a free bird never intended to flyby or visit.

But now, it was in sight.

A small mass of clouds did exist where he imagined the earth should be, her presence now taunting him to explore her. He often zoomed past her, his long silver hair flowing behind him like a freedom flag in the face of discrimination. He embraced himself fully here, this was his true home.

This dream however, was only minutely different from his others; the earth was visible and she would not be ignored. No stars, no suns, no planets were around. The earth had become a lighthouse beacon, calling him like a siren's song, carving through the endless space and bringing only itself into visibility. Sam floated about, looking at it, dreading that he knew he would soon be there.

Sam shivered as he felt something tugging at him, palpably expressing itself as tension in the vacuum of space. He hovered backwards, drifting slowly away from the blue and green giant. Not wanting to be anymore enthralled in her revolution.

The vastness vibrated momentarily; Sam lost his focus and flipped forward towards the planet. He screamed as his chest vibrated with the sky, his ears tingled with the soundless noise. His long silver locks shifted blonde and shrunk till they levelled with his shoulders. The vacuum shook again, his hair like high-tension wires resonated with it, vibrating violently, pulling his attention away from plummeting towards the earth.

He was connected to the sky just as he was connected to space; he entered the atmosphere and gripped the sides of his head, the wind whistled in his ears and the earth's call was louder, no longer a voice but something in his heart, beating inside him. He curled into a ball as his body slowed down; he hovered, revolving slowly in the now brilliant blue of the earth - the sun had miraculously returned burning brightly in front of him. The dark cosmos behind him, ready to welcome him with open arms if he could return.

The sky moved, his hairs stood on end, forcing him to uncurl himself; he looked around and saw a white crown and a giant pair of blackish-brown wings soaring towards him.

"Pyli?" he whispered, easily recognizing the bald eagle.

She squawked at him, circling him, her giant chocolaty feathers tips brushing him as she circled him.

"What are you doing here?" he asked her as she opened her beak to respond –

The sky shook with her call.

He shot up, his eyes wide and frantic, gazing with the intensity of an owl about his room looking for the source of his wakeup call. His eyes rested on the bay windows opposite his bed. There Pyli roosted, tapping on the window, her 3 foot frame highlighted by the rising sun as she awaited entry.

Sam eased off his mattress, stretched and scratched himself, indecently, as he walked towards her. He kneeled on the padded seat and opened the window above it, watching her as she waddle unto the seat beside him; her eyes burned into him, as if she were berating him for having her out there so long. He smiled and scratched the white of her feathers, she piped in response closing her eyes, as she waddled in closer to rub herself along him.

"Good morning girl," he whispered, kissing what he assumed was her temple as he headed towards his bathroom.

She piped in response, something she often did. Sam was certain she understood, she acted too intelligently for him to think otherwise.

"I had a strange dream not too long ago, and you were in it," he said peering at her through the bathroom door to see if she was paying attention. She was gazing right at him.

"Yeah, and I was flying and stuff and you were flying around me," he started to brush his teeth, stripped down and jumped into the shower.

The warm water cascaded down his body, revitalizing him and refreshing him for the day to come; his dreams had left him expecting and wanting more. He put the toothbrush on a shelf in his shower and washed his shoulder length blonde hair, reminiscing on the long silver locks his dreams embellished him with. He hurriedly scoured his lithe frame and exited the shower.

Wrapping a towel around his waist, he started again, "It was really weird Pyli. My hair always grows out. It's long and silvery and it shines like stars in the night sky." He walked across the room and sat beside her, stroking her feathers as she preened herself.

"I mean, I fly regularly in my sleep, I've been flying longer than I've been walking, but, it just felt so real that time," he laughed to himself and looked at the clock above his bed. He sucked in a breath and dressed himself. Casually in a pair of faded blue jeans and a baby blue t-shirt he parted with his friend, leaving the window open for her as he descended the staircase.

"I was wondering how long it was gonna take ya to get yer ass ready for school," his sister Jess called, walking from the kitchen in a plume of steam as she handed him a brown paper bag. She had flour streaked across her face and in her ponytailed brown hair.

"It's Pyli, she was extra needy today," he felt bad for selling his bird out in such a manner, "You have flour on your face you know," he responded looking down into her hair.

"Well," she indicated with her eyes to the bag in his hand, "I was just cooking."

"I'm sorry, thanks Jess." he hugged her, scrutinizing the bags under her brown eyes. "Did you just get in?"

"What gave it away?" she looked herself up and down, "Was it the oily skin? The bags under my eyes? What?"

"I picked this out for you yesterday?" he smiled sheepishly, pointing to her outfit.

"That makes sense," she said, laughing. "There was a system failure at the office; someone was trying to hack the system, so the gang and I were checking security protocols and firewalls all night long. You know how the big boss does her thing."

"Do you ever plan to stop bragging about your promotion?" he asked, still smiling.

"Only when I get promoted again," she laughed as she headed up the staircase. "Enjoy your pancakes, little, big brother." He knew she was alluding to what the day was. She had made it a point to bring up his seventeen year oldness as much as possible.

"Sleep good, Jess," he called back as he picked his bag up from the living room couch and headed outside.

Less than a minute passed, his phone buzzed in his pocket, ignoring it because he knew who was calling. Rov's Lancer pulled up to his gate and he hurried into the vehicle, sitting shotgun beside the shaggy dirty blond he had known for the last five years and the verbally colourful Latina applying makeup on the back seat who he had known for the last seven years.

"Y'know I hate when you don't answer. Don't just send me to voicemail, like, it's rude," Rov's voice was a raspy baritone that Sam affectionately adored.

"Good morning to you, Rovington. Mariana."

"Do not call me that. Sam, you know how I feel about my name."

"Good morning, Rov," he said giggling.

"I hatechu," Rov spitted out.

"You don't. You know you love me," Sam whispered, looking Rov in his gray eyes.

"Can you two can it? Rov, could ya put the pedal to the metal? I wanna see the swim jocks in their Speedos," Mariana was not a morning person; her usually melodic voice was often shrill and thin the first couples hours after she woke.

"Someone's desperate to see some pre-pubescent dicks," Sam called to the backseat, putting on his seatbelt as Rov drove out and continued on the journey to school.

"Honey, les be honest. We both know that you and I are gonna be staring at Evan's elephant cock."

Rov punched the brake, everyone was flung forward momentarily.

"I'm sorry," he said, looking at his friends.

"WTF?" Mariana yelled.

"What she said," Sam said, gesturing to her as they both stared at Rov.

"Nothing," he fixed his mirror, gazing out at the empty road and continuing.

"That wasn't nothing. Was it because I said, el-eh-phant cock?" Mariana grinned in the rear-view mirror, matching his grey glare to her brown.

"Whatever," he whispered; looking at Sam who was gone, staring out the window at the way the sun dressed the land in its glow.

Most of the ride was silent after that; they pulled into their high school five minutes later.

"I hate this place," Sam sighed.

"We know honey."

"Tell us something you haven't been saying everyday for the last 3 years," Rov breathed, earning himself a side eyed glared from Sam.

Rov parked the car near their first destination, the cafeteria. It provided food all through the day, a marvel to most students who had either one lunch session or two at their previous schools. But the Susan Richards Academy of Higher Education was not the average school; it was the sporting hub of the state. All the best athletes went there, and it showed in their facilities and staff. The parking lot was filled with cars of all those who had come in early to train and practice.

The Academy was a giant complex of colour co-ordinating buildings linked by corridors and hallways. They walked towards the closest brown building, a task that demanded that they walk side by side with Mariana in the middle, always. The dietary needs of the athletes had the breakfast menu putting any fast food and health relevant restaurants to shame within a five mile radius; this often left Rov a chin scratching—walking from point a to b—mess incapable of satiating his appetite. The variety did however leave him today, with bacon and something to put it in.

Mariana walked ahead as Rov paid for his meal, though she was only 2 inches above five feet, she walked with the stride of someone much taller. She was a giant in her thigh high black boots and matching black sweater dress.

The cafeteria lead them down a hallway which connected to the gymnasium, which was another joint structure; opening with the basketball court. Immediately as they entered, the flurry of jocks and the sounds of balls bouncing accompanied with groans and grunts weren't an unwelcome surprise.

"Ugh," she retched, Mariana saw the bane of her existence and put everything in her stride, her long hair swishing behind her proudly like a peacock's tail.

Sam, quickly walked up to her and held her hand, having her pull him along. His eyes swivelled to the court, then away, then back to the court but not before catching the eyes of a few jocks.

"Fag!" one called

Mariana was the firecracker, Sam immediately reconciled it as her being the shortest and closest to hell, compliments of Tumblr, he grabbed her and pulled her with him as she flung a comeback at the basketballer.

"You should ignore them, Mari," Rov whispered, walking up to them, his wavy blond locks bouncing in the indoor light. "You too Sam."

"I could try," she began, "—MAYBE IF YOUR DICK WAS AS LONG AS YOU WERE TALL—but I'm not that interested in being nice to these douches."

Sam turned to see who had earned that remark, his heart raced as his eyes met with Logan's; whether an inch apart or 50 feet, he could see the green and amber mixed and mashed in his irises.

"Do you really want me to be silent, Sam?" she asked, pulling his attention from the jock that was grabbing his package and laughing with his friends, knowing he wouldn't respond. The situation made him very uncomfortable, but not for the reasons they thought. Bullying the gay kid wasn't his immediate stereotype.

"He's not going to answer you when you're raving at `im," Rov countered.

"Raving am I?" she breathed as they entered the arena housing the indoor pool. It was a massive structure that housed an Olympic sized pool and mountain of stands to one side, which the trio shuffled towards.

Sam tuned them out and focused on the swimmers. Their splashing was a little soothing for him as was the smell of chlorine. He looked at the water and knew Evan immediately. He never wore a cap and always had his ass length hair floating about like seaweed in the water. If it weren't for the hair, it'd have been from the speed; he was the fastest swimmer the team had to offer.

They climbed up on the stands and sat on the row of benches closest to the pool. They unwrapped their food, Rov and Mariana were still arguing about how best to deal with the basketballers, and began to eat.

"Sam, tell him I'm not being unreasonable," she hissed.

"Stop dragging him into the argument!"

"Rov you're being unreasonable. You're never going to step up and defend him. And none of them are gonna hit me, I wish a boy would though!" she cackled, before quickly adding, "A bitch would be set for life!"

"You're not funny," Rov said and took a bite out of his BLT.

"Bitch, I'm hilarious."

"Don't call me bitch."

Sam buzzed them out and ate his pancakes in piece, delighting in the blueberries and apricots. He stared at the swimmers, traversing the lanes like cars in high speed traffic.

"OMP!" Mariana gasped, garnering Sam's attention with the unusual sentiment.

"What?" Sam and Rov said simultaneously; though Rov was the only one who noticed how red his face had gotten or how brightly he was smiling at their synchronicity.

"Oh My Penis," she uttered, fanning herself as she pointed to a tall young man, removing his cap, shaking a head of brown locks from side to side. Sam could immediately see what she was pointing at, the young man, Elijah, was the co-captain to Evan, sporting a white pair of Speedos that were straining over a prominent bulge that pointed back at Mariana.

Sam could hear Rov's eyes rolling, but he took in Elijah's profile and admired his body; he was lean, as were most of the other swimmers, with powerfully defined limbs. What made Sam giggle however was the way he walked back to the locker room, his bum jiggled with every step.

"You guys are such pervs," Rov hissed.

""Psssh, have you ever seen yourself at volleyball practice?" Mariana shot back, eliciting a laugh from Sam who smiled at Rov, who tried to keep his face straight but parted his pink lips and smiled back.

"Wait, what?" Rov regarded her with a questioning glare.

"Do you know the purpose of a jockstrap, hun?" she replied, leaving his cheeks tinged scarlet.

Sam turned his attention back to the remaining swimmers exiting the pool in their Speedos of various colours; he ignored Mariana's lusting and focused on Evan who was still completing laps.

"Must he always overdo it?" Rov asked, grinding his teeth and looking at Sam.

"He wouldn't be the captain if he trained the lightest, now would e'?" Mariana responded snidely.

Sam just stared at Evan slicing through the water.

"Here he comes," Mariana meowed.

Evan, unlike most of the other swimmers, used the ladders along the pool. He climbed out of the water, his hair was black with green tints that matched the blue jammers he wore, he was the only person on the team to wear them, incidentally, and it had nothing to do with his captaincy.

"Rov, you should put Mariana's tongue back in her head," Sam laughed, his eyes not leaving Evan's form for a moment. Evan clutched his hair in a tight fist and then shook his head from side to side. Sam believed he had power over time, or at least the Baywatch power to slow it down.

"Why did I befriend him, Jesus?" Mariana fanned herself again whilst clutching her other hand to her chest, much to Rov's annoyance, again, no one noticed.

"You're literally too much," Sam muttered, a smile curled at the corner of his lips. His eyes razed Evan's body, leaving nothing left; everything was subject to his gaze. He attentively looked at the way each muscle was sculpted, the way in which Evan's tall frame seemed perfectly proportional; the way his tan skin was taut over his defined frame.

"If I'm too much, then you're not enough, bitch," she spit at him, flipping her hair and adjusting her lipstick.

They watched his pert ass disappear into the locker room, only to return 10 minutes later with him still in the jammers, a towel over his shoulder and his clothes in one hand as he headed towards them.

"Must you always so blatantly blind me with your dick, Evan?" Mariana inquired, her voice pitched to the meow of a curious cat, as she licked her red painted lips.

"Must you always sexualize me like this?" he recanted, sitting beside Sam, bathing him in a mix of chlorine and a scent Sam had recognized as `beach'.

"Do you look at my boobs when I wear low-cut tees?" she smirked.

"No," he said; his voice was soft and endearing, like the call of the sea on a humid day.

"That's your problem really," she jeered, standing in front of them and grabbing her breasts to emphasize her point.

"How're you bud, did you get my text this morning?" Evan whispered bumping Sam with his shoulders.

"I did, but I just didn't pay it much mind. I had a really weird dream, with me and the earth and Pyli. It wasn't one of my nightmares. It was just a really weird dream," he mumbled, subconsciously staring at his friend's bulge.

"My eyes," he grasped Sam's attention with two fingers, "are up here."

"Sorry, it was an accident, I didn't mean to," he sighed, avoiding eye contact.

"Chill out, you know I don't care," his voice washed over Sam, bathing him in relief. "Now tell me more about this dream," he said standing and getting dressed.

Rov and Mariana held the other's attention as Sam and Evan discussed his dream as they headed through the doors leading to the basketball court.

"Looks like the fag has found a boyfriend," Logan heckled, the sounds of sneakers screeching echoed across the room and the ball bounced wantonly towards them.

Rov held Mariana as she moved towards the ball; she brushed him off and flipped her hair, pausing as Evan had with Sam beside him.

"You could throw it back," he jeered, his tall figured shook with the laughter of his peers behind him.

A smile crossed Evan's face, "How about I kick it instead?"

"The fuck?" Logan said moving towards the ball as it came to rest at Evan's foot; Sam noticed the twitch in Logan's face as he expected shit to get serious.

Evan swept his foot under the ball and started to juggle it, kicking it high in the air and passing it from foot to foot. Logan walked up to him, fists curling, teeth grinding and face flushed and red. His hair clung to his forehead in clumps, droplets of sweat raced down his features as he stopped a few feet from Evan.

Sam moved back, he was smiling, but apprehension was thick in the air. He stepped back and reached for a hand, not finding the soft skin of Mariana, but the firm grip of Rov. A current jolted through them momentarily, pulling his hand away they made eye contact for a moment, but Sam eyes swivelled back to the action in front of him—Rov's eyes lingered.

"Yo captain, ain't you getting our ball back?" a tall black fellow inquired, his arms were folded and he was walking closer to the show Evan was giving them.

Evan turned to them momentarily, the ball still fluttering about his feet like a monarch butterfly, "head out now, I'll see you guys soon."

Rov didn't need to be told twice, he pulled the two awestruck teens with him. He had to drag the gawking Sam away; the added weight of his lower jaw on the ground seemed to be a challenge for Rov. Mariana had taken the initiative and walked ahead, flipping her hair and storming off.

"Come on," Rov said, as he and Sam finally made it through the door, his friend still fighting to see the ultimatum of Evan and the basketballers.

The hallway was crowded with students; there was roughly a half hour left till school started for the day. Sam pushed Rov off, Mariana stood to the side and watched, she was posing, her body in full extension as she became the tallest person in the hallway.

"Mariana is right, you're such a coward. How could you just leave him in there?" Sam growled. The air in the hallway thickened as Rov's eyes bulged out of his head; shocked etched across his face like permanent ink on a whiteboard.

"BECAUSE, I'M THE ONLY ONE WHO SEEMS TO CARE ABOUT YOUR FUCKING SAFETY!" he roared, the shocked expression morphing into total fury. Sam shrunk back a bit; his eyes wandered to the frozen teens soaking in the hormone-fuelled later today at lunch gossip.

"You don't need to," Sam whispered, shrugged then walked off.

"Grrreeaaaat work," Mariana said slow clapping as Sam stormed off. "I'm glad he doesn't take his birthday seriously, or I would not wanna be you right now."

"Shut up!" he snapped and took off in the opposite direction. Mariana looked at her friends walking to the opposite ends of the earth. She flipped her hair, ignored the eyes of the crowd and chose the dirty blonde and followed him.

Sam sped off like a mouse in a cat lady's house to his English class. He entered the room, seeing only 3 other students in the class of 30, he fidgeted to his seat in the middle of the room. Took out a pad and sketched the expression he'd seen on Rov.

As the time wound down, more and more students deluged into the room, flooding the room in their energies. His hands felt heavy and his ability to draw found itself neck deep in sand, he made little to no eye contact with his classmates but did his best to keep his head up.

Once the bell rang, Mr. Stewart stepped in, and ushered the rest of his students in. Though his lesson would technically start in 5 minutes he started to unpack his things and prepare the board for the lesson. Sam loved him as a teacher, but not so much as a person, he had an insufferable need to pick on him for questions; always needing to test his limits and his capabilities.

"Mr. Tempest?" he called, his russet hair was buzzed on the side and a couple wavy inches in the middle. He was wonderfully nerdy, but heartbreakingly gorgeous—at least to Sam, who was a stickler for guys in baggy clothing— with a very well hidden jock's body under his oversized work clothes. Sam often fantasized about taking Mr. Stewart's glasses and focusing them on something he'd like his English teacher to go home and write about.

"Yes sir?" Sam responded, paying more attention to the way his ass shook than what he was writing on the board.

"I just want to applaud you for acing another test," he said, stepping away from the board and smiling at his students. Rallying them to applaud their classmate; he noted the lethargic applause as they pretended to cheer for him, his eyes found solace in the baggy khaki bulge a few feet away from him.

"Thanks, sir. I try, I guess," he said looking him the eyes as everyone else gawked at them. Mr. Stewart walked up to his desk and placed a bar of candy on it, and patted Sam on the shoulder—

—Sam felt as his teacher showed it; a flash of horror arched Mr. Charles's eyebrows, split his lips into a soundless `O' and darkened his blue eyes.

"Sorry about that!" he laughed, righting his features and pulling away, "Static electricity." He licked his lips and smiled awkwardly at his student. Walking away, he couldn't help but look back, rubbing his palm.

"Fag!" someone whispered. Sam didn't bother to look at which jock or wannabe cool kid had made the remark. He instead rubbed his shoulder, the electricity still surging through him; he'd never felt anything like it before and that filled him anxiety.

The anxiety bubbled in him, vaporizing into steam and filling him with the electric energy from before. The air in the room felt toxic, his hairs stood on end and he yearned to avoid all eye contact as a chill tingled up his spine. He pulled a sweater from his bag and wrapped his arms in it before gazing at his teacher's dancing zipper.

He took his notes in peace, ignoring the occasional comments from the jocks that were in his class; one happened to be the very same tall black basketballer from earlier. Sam made sure not to look back at him, despite the numerous crumpled pieces of paper tossed at his head; he wasn't the only student Nathan bullied.

His pocket vibrated, Mr Charles wasn't saying anything he didn't already know. He split his attention, pulling the device from his pocket and looked at the message and the sender. He rolled his eyes and pulled the sweater closer and put his head on his desk as the electrifying clamminess persisted.

The cold travelled through him like a virus, the cold and current building as it circulated. He could feel its elemental power surging through him, another unusual sensation and he felt himself trip. He hadn't left his desk but he was body was flung forward as if he had stumbled whilst walking; his body cart-wheeled and tucked itself like gymnast aiming towards something.

His body felt weightless, but heavy, as it plummeted—now, out of control—downwards. The wind whistled in his ears and stung at his now open eyes. He zoomed towards the earth; somehow she had pulled him back into the dream.

Panic overdosed his systems as he had lost his power to fly; his arms flailed madly, knowing somewhere deep in his mind that it offered a slight solace. Maybe he could think happy thoughts and it would slow his descent; the impeding danger implored him to call for help, but no sound escaped his lips just air. His eyes tore themselves open in search for his bird, she was there before, where was she now? His head whipped from side to side looking for a way to save his ass.

"Help!" he yelled.

"Mr Tempest? With what?" Sam was immediately upright, his eyes jumped from their sockets, his heart was racing, face clumped with hair and sweat.

"Yes, sir?" his voice was shaky and he was breathing heavily. He was supremely aware of how silent the room was and that all eyes were on their exchange.

"Do you need to use the lavatory or something?" Mr. Charles asked, before brushing a curly lock from his glasses. Sam quickly nodded at his teacher and left the room as carefully as possible, avoiding the desks of his classmates and curling the edges of his sweater in his fidgeting fingers. As he exited to the hallway, he exhaled, walking on unsteady legs, he flashed back to the dream. Paused for a moment, leaning on a wall, he wiped his head and pulled his phone out. He saw the message from Logan again and put the phone away.

By the time he stepped into the bathroom his mind was more on washing his face and getting something to drink than on his terribly frightening dream. He moved to the urinal and relieved himself, quickly zipping up and heading to wash his hands.

He didn't like how his hair looked; it was at the awkward stage between long and short—tickling his shoulders, always in his face and a constant urge to cut it. The door swung open pulling him from his thoughts.

He stepped back from the sink and hit his back against a stall door as Logan moved towards him. "Logan, I do not have the energy to resist you right now," Sam whispered, looking down avoiding all contact with Logan's lascivious grin. Sam, thought it a bit much, but he could almost see the need for release permeating the air from Logan's pores.

"Why would you resist me babe? Do you think I'd forget what today is?" he said smiling and closing the distance. He cornered Sam in with his long arms, leaning in, stifling the shorter male in his presence.

"Yes actually," Sam said with a deadpan expression; completely ignoring his first question.

"You're so funny when you're ready," he whispered, inching closer to Sam's face, his long neck craning down to touch their foreheads together. "But I have a gift for you."

"What's that," Sam asked, turning his face to avoid a kiss, he blushed as Logan's lips brushed his cheek.

"This," Logan breathed, reaching behind them and pulling the stall door. He pushed Sam inside and no sooner had the boy's zipper down and his pants around his knees.

"Logan, what are you doing?" he asked panic high in his voice and his lungs were squeezing his throat shut.

"Making your birthday a memorable one," he looked up at Sam; Logan's toothy grin and shining hazel eyes caught him off-guard. Sam stared back, transfixed by the green in the taller boy's eyes as he lowered his underwear.

"I don't understand... get up!" Sam whisper-yelled.

"No, babe, you will, now shut up," he growled, quickly swallowing Sam's soft cock.

"Umm..." Sam hissed, grabbing Logan's locks as his knees shook. As much as he wasn't a fan of Logan beyond his stunning good looks, Sam certainly appreciated the way Logan's big mouth dealt with his manhood.

Sam's eyes were tightly closed; he rhythmically squeezed the locks of hair in his hands. He soon started rocking his hips back and forth, listening to the uneven breathing of the boy fellating him. The sounds of slurping urged him to pump his hips faster, the electricity was back, lighting him up like a Christmas tree.

His breathing grew heavier and his eyes stayed closed—

Logan pulled off in a fit of coughs. The door opened, Sam opened his eyes, and shuffled with his clothes as Logan slowly got off his knees to see who it was.

"Yo boss, someone's comin'," a deep voice said, Sam knew it was Nathan.

"Later, baby," Logan said, his lips still shiny with spit and his breathing normalizing; he leaned in to kiss Sam who turned his head again. Logan smiled sheepishly, kissed the cheek and quickly stepped back. He too had been shocked, Sam realized; feeling to apologize but instead remained silent. Logan looked at him intensely for a moment, the silence grew deafening before Logan gripped his chin and pulled him into a savage lip biting kiss before he pushed Sam away and left.

As soon as the door closed Sam pulled the stall door in and sat on the toilet. Tasting himself on Logan's tongue wasn't a turn off, Logan was, and he didn't want to spend any more time with and on him. A million thoughts like lava poured themselves onto his brain, cooling him down and solidifying his mind in a state of over-analysis. He folded in on himself and shivered.

His fists loosened and tightened as they pressed into his fist. His thoughts raced and his breathing evened out, he told himself to take slow breaths as he felt a headache storming in, ready to destroy him.

He swallowed the bile rising up his throat, stood and shook off the nausea as he left the stall and headed to the sink. He wanted desperately to seek the solace of Evan, but he hadn't seen him since the basketball incident earlier. Which Sam realized, probably went by smoothly since Logan bore no ill will, or he did and had a weird way of showing it. Sam looked at his reflection and regarded that that was impossible; Logan was a predator.

"Ugh," he muttered and flushed his face before heading back to class. He contemplated messaging Evan, but decided against it. He wasn't the best person to seek comfort in at a distance.

As soon as his English class ended, the next few hours were spent in other classes he zoned in and out of, not focusing too hard to keep the impending headache at bay. He patiently waited for lunch to rear its beautifully overstocked face, as soon as the bell rang; he headed straight to the cafeteria.

"Wassup slut?" Mariana jested, appearing beside him as he entered the spacious facility.

"Your new lipstick looks a bit dull," he quipped back. "Whose dick did ya test its endurance on?"

"How's your day going so far?" she smiled at him as they took headed for a table closest to the courtyard. The school's greenery was truly something to behold and was often the first thing newcomers noted; as opposed to the back entrance for student parking they used.

"Weird, mostly. And I'm fighting a headache," he said, looking out an open door.

"How so?" she asked, waving to Rov as he walked to their table.

"I still feel sixteen, or even fifteen, or four—okay maybe not fourteen. I just... don't feel like I've changed much in the past year and I don't know. Maybe I'm expecting too much from this birthday thing, like I'm supposed to be wiser overnight, ya know?" he looked at her expectantly and avoided Rov's glare.

"Um, I'm gonna go get food..." she got up from the table and spoke even slower, "I'll—be—right—back."

"Look, Sammy—"

"Don't call me that till you apologize!"

"What'd you think I'm doin' genius!" Rov stated, burying his face into his palms. "Anyways, before you so rudely interrupted me, I wanted to apologize for earlier. And if you're free later, wanted to hang out on the roof?"

"Sure, I guess," Sam looked at Rov, then away to where Mariana was flipping her hair at some jock, then back to Rov. "Thanks."

"You're welcome Sammy," he said with a smile and a slight tint of red in his cheeks.

"How's the birthday boy doing?" Evan asked, sliding into the seat beside him.

"It's plenty o' blah, so far," he sighed, pulling his the brown paper bag filled with his lunch out of his bag.

"Oooooh, someone's paper baggin' it. Nerd!" Logan hissed walking past their table with his pack of hollering hyenas.

"Logan, there's a bit of orange," Evan pointed to his forehead, "where you failed to catch your ball this morning."

Logan sneered and gathered his hounds and stalked off to find other prey.

"Ugh, I hate him sooo much," Mariana said whipping her hair back as she sat down beside Rov.

"He's just a cliché, you shouldn't let him get to you so much," Sam muttered, glancing at Logan's table crowded with jocks and cheerleaders, he rolled his eyes as the growing mass became a congregation at one side of the cafeteria.

"You are so, right!" she hissed, unpacking her sandwich and taking a bite. She chewed, as she called it, like a lady. Her lipstick immaculate as she wiped her mouth, Sam compared their actions; he'd had only a few pancakes left but had eagled them down like a hungry Pyli after an unsuccessful hunt.

He looked at Rov and his own burrito, the way he ate carefully as if someone were watching him. Evan only ate a shiny green apple, he took his time biting and chewing it almost like an act of seduction.

"Hello? Are you in there?" Mariana tapped him on the forehead.

"Sorry what?" Sam asked, blinking slowly as Mariana's coppery complexion came into view.

"She asked if ya were planning to lose the v card," Rov responded, a disheartened expression had hooks in the edges of smile.

"Oh?" Sam said, sweeping his hair back and twiddling his fingers as he looked outside again.

"Aren't you going to answer her?" Evan asked, looking down at Sam with a bottle at his lips, before he took a drink.

"Umm," Sam said, he looked around at them, smiling at him; his eyes flickered around the cafeteria at a few choice gentlemen. The walls seemed to be closing in around him; he looked at his food and felt a pang of revulsion. "I gotta go."

"Sam, no. Don't go," Rov begged, as his friend stormed off.

"Who pushed a stick up his ass? Or, in this case, who isn't?" she inquired.

"Mariana, just drop it," Evan said getting up and walking off, not long after wrapping his arms around a girl and leading her out of the cafeteria.

"Fine, I doh' know why he always gets like this when I bring Sam's sex life up, ugh. Then he just gets up and goes after his slut of the week," she quickly expressed.

Rov looked at her, decidedly staying silent. He rolled his eyes then finished his lunch.

Sam ran to where his next class would begin; the Art rooms. Mrs. Figg was the spirit that haunted these rooms, a multifaceted woman that oversaw any dip the school took into the arts. She was a small and demure woman, until she stepped onto a stage or a lectern, then she physically grew in size. Sam sought the comfort she brought, meaning she allowed him to skip classes.

"What are you doing?" he asked as he entered the drawing room. She was busying herself with splattering clay onto a horizontal canvas.

"I'm making 3D art, I'm feeling... very sensitive today, and tactile," she called back to him, refusing to break eye contact with her art. He admired how her blond bob cut would spike up whenever she got excited. She quickly muttered something in German that he rolled his eyes at and found himself a corner.

He put his hair up and pulled his art supplies from his bag; he crossed the room to where the blank canvases were kept and procured one. He returned to a stool and put the canvas on the stand, readied his equipment and focused.

He put the conversation with his friends into the colours, poured his insecurity about what was happening with Logan into the brushes; let his fears and phobias about not doing his best run across the canvas. He felt his headache creeping at the corner of his blossoming serenity. He let his imagination handle it, he felt the hands, saw them, powerful and puffy like darkened thunder clouds, grasping the pain and squeezing it till it no longer existed.

It was his birthday, and he didn't know if he was changing, if he had changed. He still did the same shit he did in his Junior-year and now he was captured in a big secret that was pulling him down like gravity. He fought with his thoughts, warred with the untidiness of his mind and let the blood and death and destruction bury itself in the canvas.

He wanted Logan to leave him alone; he wanted to be loved by someone who didn't have to protect their self by hurting him; carving into the same spot, tending to the wound and then slicing even deeper the following day. He could feel Logan cutting away a pound of flesh the more they interacted. He was growing agitated and confused. He felt his energies slipping away, there had to be more; there had to be someone who would love him despite what he'd been doing. The smell of seawater flashed into his mind momentarily, the sound of waves at the beach and his mind was leading him to—he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"My god," she whispered. Sam looked at his teachers clay covered cheeks, then into her brown bespectacled eyes,

"What is it?" he asked, looking at her, wondering where her thoughts might be headed. "Is it bad?"

"No, it's so far from it. Oh my god," her hands clasped over her mouth, her expression was hard to read, but her hair was spiked up. He looked at his painting and gasped. The earth from his dream, it was there, but it wasn't alone, the universe was shaped like a giant woman encased in darkness and stars, different parts of her body held plains and orbs of fire, and ice, and light and greenery more verdant than the earth. His eyes wondered across the 9 planets—he thought they were—and noticed that each held a face if you looked close enough, the face of a woman, possibly the giant woman that they grew from.

The more he looked, the more transfixed he became with the colours, it was if the fires were burning and the ice produced mist, the grass was playing with the wind and the faces were smiling. He was certain the world by the woman's stomach was earth. His art eerily moved him shifted him into pride.

"Wow, this is good," someone said, Sam flipped around, he had missed the in rush of students. He pulled out his phone and looked at the time; the first hour of class was almost over.

"Can I go, Mrs. F?" he asked, packing his things up before she responded. He looked at her face, still stuck on his drawing, she was slowly nodding.

He quickly shot a text to Rov: Heading to the roof.

His phone buzzed instantaneously in his hands: Already there J

"Don't you think you should stop hiding up here? Aren't you afraid they'll suspend you or somthin'?" Sam called out to Rov as he walked into the Senior Students Lounge. It was a renovated area of the roof, meant to separate seniors from the rest of the population. A place for them to congregate and segregate; it overlooked their parking lot and was mostly housed under a giant gazebo.

Sitting on a bench backed by the protective railing, Rov put his book down and looked up at Sam, a smile tattooed along the corner of his mouth. "I'm not hiding, I'm just learning—alternatively."

Sam walked over to him, kneeled on the bench and leaned over the railing and looked up at the sky. He had yet to see Rov's eyes searching every bit of him; he instead stared at the clouds and their shapes, he could almost see the wind, the way it pushed and pulled, swirled and blustered.

"Earth to Sammy boy," Rov said snapping his fingers; Sam's head turned slowly away from the sky and they made eye contact. Rov's pale skin bloomed into a pasture of roses; Sam noticed and giggled.

"Why're you never in class?" Sam whispered, settling unto the seat and inching closer to his friend.

"Can I tell you a secret?" Rov responded. Sam nodded his head, reached slowly across them and brushed a drooping wave of Rov's hair up. "I'm rich."

Sam laughed and punched Rov in the arm. "I wish you'd try to be serious." He was genuinely annoyed with him missing periods, but Rov did make the necessary grades in the end, and so he remained passive aggressive about it.

"I am being—woah!" he yelled as a rustle of brown and white feathers settled down beside them. "I hate it when she does that!"

Sam chuckled and ran his fingers along Pyli's crown.

"Can't you train her?" Rov was frantic, though he appreciated the bird of prey; he felt just that, prey, in her presence.

"That's why she's here," Sam said, and got up to pet her. "Even now, I still can't stop her from following me."

"You're so fucking weird," Rov laughed. He put his book in his bag and stood beside Sam, tentatively reaching out to pet her, but didn't make contact. Sam, noticing the hesitation, took Rov's hand and closed the distance to Pyli.

Static crackled between their hands and shocked them away from each other. "I've been so staticky today, it's so ewww," he remarked as he reached for Rov's hand again.

Rov's face grew crimson, Pyli pointed a pale yellow eye at him, and she noticed the intimate reaction and let loose a flute-like call as their hands touched her.

"You always get like this," Sam whispered, his hand still on Rov's.

"Y'do realize she's taller than a 5 year old?" he responded, stepping away and looking at something in the parking lot. "Maybe y'should be friends with that guy, he's cutting class."

Sam turned to look at whom he was pointing at; he could see his backside, and what a backside it was. He could see quite clearly that he had dirt blonde hair with some green tints. They beautified a fit and tall frame.

"Must be a footballer," Sam shrugged. Rov took the time to look at the Cupid's bow curve in Sam's lips. How his blue eyes were likely to turn a stormy grey if the weather decided to change on them. He was truly mystified with him, the way an astronaut would look at earth; crumbling with homesickness and a desire to return to her the second he'd left.

Sometime later Pyli flew off leaving them to their own devices. These devices being an intense conversation, about their possible college options where they were going and what would happen to their little group in 10 months. They'd chosen a few colleges that would keep them together, but all of them had dream schools. Evan was aiming for Stanford, and by virtue of being his best friend, so was Sam.

"You're stifling yourself that way... you know Princeton is where you belong."

"Evan's going to need me," he said resolutely; refusing to make eye contact with his friend.

"He doesn't seem to need you now," Rov responded. He noticed Sam's fist clenching, and the once clear sky now darkening.

"You don't know what the fuck you're talking about!" Sam hissed, grabbed his bag up and left. He knew he was being irrational, but he wasn't about to have his insecurities ruffled by Rovington again.

"I just keep pissing him off..." Rov sighed, before leaving as the inclement weather rolled in.

Sam headed to the gym to prepare himself for the torture of Physical Education, the class where your body supposedly becomes as strong as your mind—to Sam it just seemed like a session for jocks to meander about and torture the not as physically adept. He sat quietly by his locker and busied himself with his phone, looking at a message from Logan.

`I'm wishing you a wonderful day babe, Happy Birthday Babe, I Love You,' it said. It made him cringe; his stomach and its neighbouring organs were twisting and wringing themselves dry like wet clothing. How many times could he be called `babe' and not Sam? What did Logan even know about love, not that he wanted him to be open about his attraction to guys—Sam just wanted to hear I Love You from someone who actually knew what it meant—or to come out for him. He just wanted some honesty, or maybe a little of the Hollywood romance.

"Hey fag..." Logan's voice was like ice slowly climbing his spine.

"Hello Logan," he replied, looking around to see if anyone else was in the locker room with them. He put his phone away and began to change into his gym outfit to idle himself and avoid the eyes of the taller male behind him.

"Giving daddy a little show, huh?" Sam heard the smirk in his voice and cringed. Sam froze for a moment, trying to get control of his reactions, but he couldn't. He rolled his eyes and accidentally shivered.

"Baby, you cold?" Logan whispered and hugged himself to Sam's naked torso. "I just love how skinny you are, how soft your skin is... and your hair, it always smells so nice."

"Thanks, I guess," Sam said, using his shoulders to pry himself away from Logan and hurriedly putting his shirt on. He was pissed at his body for completely lacking self-control. "Don't you think we should be more secretive?"

"We have another five minutes before anyone gets here," he said pulling at Sam's pants and pulling them down.

"It doesn't matter, you've got an image to maintain," Sam pushed him off, kicked his shoes off and quickly pulled on his gym shorts.

"The only image I care about maintaining right now... is you in those shorts," Logan smiled and pulled Sam in for kiss. He filled the boy's mouth with tongue and his hands with Sam's ass cheeks.

"Ahem."

Logan violently shoved Sam away, tossing him over a bench and into a locker. Logan wheeled around to see his coach smirking at him. A tall man, though not as tall as Logan, with dark brown wavy hair, a lean and shredded physique and intense blue eyes.

"Sorry coach–" he started, but the coach had his muscular hand up, the smirk still on his handsome rugged face as he gave his basketball captain a wink and tapped his wrist before walking away.

Sam slowly got up off the ground; Logan didn't give him a second glance as he sped off to change his clothes. Sam groaned, rubbed his elbow before putting his running shoes on. He stayed on his bench till the crowd rolled in and then extricated himself to the court to wait for class to start.

He took in the various shades of athleticism; the jocks, nerds and the in between stretching and warming up. As the bell rung, Logan and his crew blew in with the coach behind them. He huddled everyone into the stands and explained to them that they would just be running for the session, he had business with his athletes and the other students essentially got a free period as long as they completed the track.

"Hey Sam," Sam turned and looked up; he knew the voice belonged to his favourite wrestler, Charlie.

"Hi Charlie," he took in the strong features of his built like an ox friend. "I love what you've done with your hair."

"Did you really mean that?"Charlie asked. His eyes were a cerulean blue, similar to Evan's but they didn't hold his shine or glamour; they did however hold an enthusiasm that was about to change Sam's day.

"Yeah, it makes you look so cute," he laughed as he said it, pairing up beside Charlie; he took off on the track. "Catch me if you can!"

Their school held many things and one of those things was a cross country track that Sam hated. It usually took him 20 minutes to a half hour to make the distance, and today seemed to be no difference. Most of his other classmates had already started the run and though he wanted it to be over already, the darkening sky made it a little easier.

"Would you like to come over this afternoon?" he asked, as he caught up to the jogging Sam.

"Sweetness, I love your hot tub," Sam yelled and took off; really sprinting now. He felt a rush of adrenaline, a sheer joy pulsing in his veins, coursing through his heart as he did through the woods. He noticed soon that he was passing his classmates; he wasn't breathing heavily at all, in fact he was revelling in what felt almost like flying.

"What the fuck... did you just do?" Sam heard as he stopped dead in his tracks, the wind held no drag and his body seemed to carry no inertia he turned around, realizing he was back at one of the Gymnasium's entrances.

The wind whipped around him and the trees swayed like inebriated persons dancing; he turned around to see Scott, the captain of the track team and apparently the de facto coach, holding a stopwatch at the end of the track.

"Did you cheat or something? Which path did you take?" Scott was a Trinidadian-Moroccan beauty, he had light brown skin, thick dark lips, hazel green eyes and a thick puff of coiled hair currently held by an athletic hair band.

"What?" Sam asked, not fully realizing that he'd finished the course already.

"You're not even breathing heavily. Right the fuck now, we're running this shit again!" he roared in his Caribbean accent. Sam was beside himself, bewildered and wondering what was happening. He looked at the path and noticed Logan and his buddies had just finished; they were puffing air like drug addicts.

Sam looked away from the death beam-like glares of Logan and his pals and followed quickly behind Scott. They moved to the start of the track and as they touched it, they took off. Sam, still a little confused, but eager to feel the flight-like speed again followed behind Scott.

It took seconds before wind was pushing him ahead, he sped past Scott and even less minutes before he hurtled through the course; finishing roughly a little after Charlie who he saw walking back into the gym.

"Let's go red," he called at him.

"There you are, how did you move that fast?" he asked scratching his head, causing his thick arm muscles to flex.

"I dunno, just felt like I was flying," Sam smiled and pulled Charlie along, he wanted to miss Scott's completion of the course. "Come on, let's get out of here."

"Okay," Charlie said with a goofy grin and tagged along.

*

"Happy Birthday," Charlie said smiling down at Sam.

"Um, gee, thanks," he replied, ruffling his hair. "Who told you?"

"You did, many years ago in middle school. I don't know about you, but I make it a habit to remember my friends' birthdays," he laughed nervously, and kept his face straight as they walked to his house.

Sam groaned, rather loudly, and stopped walking. He looked down at his blue gym shorts, then up at the darkened sky, then finally at Charlie. "Don't hate me, but I don't remember your birthday."

"You don't know when my birthday is," Charlie mumbled.

"I don't? Are you sure? That doesn't seem right?" Sam said and scratched his head.

"I've never told anyone my birthday."

"What?" he asked, a confused expression contorted his face.

He sighed, and walked ahead. "I'm adopted."

Sam paused momentarily then leaned into Charlie; hugging him with everything he had. His little form barely covered the mountain of a body his friend held.

"There, there. It's all gonna be ok. I've got you," Sam said cooing his friend.

"Ummm," Charlie said pulling away. "How about we just move on from you being weird."

"You used to love my hugs!" Sam giggled, clutching on to what little of Charlie's abdomen he could grasp.

"How about... you hug me more when we're inside?" Charlie said with a smile on his face.

"Huh?" he barely pronounced the word as Charlie tossed him over his shoulder. "Put me down!"

"Not a chance in hell," Charlie laughed and ran towards his house. It was the only canary yellow house in the neighbourhood, as well as the only 3 storey house. His family wasn't rich so to speak, but they did better financially, than most.

As soon as Charlie busted through the front door, he ran up the staircase to his room and threw a screaming Sam onto his bed. Charlie leaped unto the smaller male and pinned his giggling form down.

"You can hug me now," Charlie breathed into Sam's face, allowing him to inhale his words. He lay down on the smaller boy, covering him like an eclipse, allowing Sam to feel his growing hardness as their faces moved closer together.

"What are you doing?" Sam's voice was small and as physically commanding as he was.

"Hugging you," Charlie whispered as he leaned in and touched their lips together.

Sam quickly pulled back as his lips tingled from a static shock.

"I'm sorr—," he began but his mouth was soon covered by Charlie's.

Their kiss was simple; it was far different from the savage hunger Logan displayed and a welcome experience. Charlie's lips tingled and his cock pulsed between them. Sam could feel Charlie's want in the way he was being cradled, the way he was being touched and caressed. He watched as Charlie pulled away, smirking and touching his lips.

"I'm going to make us something to eat," Charlie said and left. Sam stared awkwardly around the room until he heard the sounds of heavy rainfall outside. He took the initiative, gathered his things and went to the bathroom.

Charlie had a hot tub for a bath; it was a glorious place for Sam to take in what had just happened. He'd never thought of Charlie in that light and now they'd traded spit and had embarked on some new journey into intimacy. He couldn't help but to compare it to what transpired with Logan; he knew it was a step in the right direction, but he didn't think it was the right person.

The bath bubbled and so did his mind; he heard the rain rattling against the walls and felt the thunder as it rocked the house. He did not know how to approach the situation; he did not know how to tell Charlie that this was not what he wanted for them. His life was ultimately even more confusing with the Logan situation floating around. The only thing left to make his day better was that it was his birthday—

The house shook with a concussive blast of thunder. The lights flickered and car alarms all across the town went off. The howls of animals were unmistakeable among the noise pollution; Pyli crossed his mind and then the window he had left open to accommodate her. He cursed and finished bathing; hurriedly drying off and exiting the bathroom.

"Charlie?" Sam called as he quickly dressed himself. He wondered around the upper floors and went down instead; remembering that Charlie was going to prepare them a meal. He had been gone a long time; maybe he'd realized that Sam was indisposed. Sam knew if the situation was reversed, he would've been clambering into the shower with Charlie.

"Whoa," he gasped. Charlie was in the kitchen, leaning back on the counter and slurping down a bowl of cereal. He stood stark naked, his fat cock and balls nestled neatly below his burning bush, twitched with anticipation.

"Hey, you're clothed," he said in between spoonfuls, smiling broadly at Sam. His flaccid member thickened to attention as he put the bowl down—smirking now—before crossing the room to close in on Sam.

"I was to come down here naked?" Sam asked with a smirk of his own, to which Charlie responded with a nod. "Mr Darcy, what kind of girl do you take me for?"

"Um, the kind of girl who will help a guy out?" he said reaching down to play with his erection.

"I kinda have to go," Sam spoke in a low voice, his eyes avoiding the swollen mass between Charlie's legs.

"But baby it's cold outside," Charlie remarked, pointing out the kitchen window as he finished the distance, standing before Sam and poking dick in the teen's abdomen. Sam's eyes swivelled from the water-blurred window to Charlie's cock bobbing and twitching on his stomach, the wet warmth of it palpable through his shirt.

"The cold doesn't bother me..." Sam muttered, hugging himself as the wet patch in his shirt grew bigger. His senses were affected by the salty aroma Charlie gave off, couple with the heat he produce—Sam was a lip-biting mess.

"Wait till the weather eases up, we can find other things to keep us occupied," he spoke in a deep voice, putting his hand on Sam's shoulder. Again, static jolted them—overpoweringly so that Charlie's knees buckled but he caught himself. Sam's knees, unfortunately, had buckled under the current he seemed to be mass producing; the journey down acquainted him with Charlie's severely thick manhood.

Charlie's cock twitched like it had drank too much coffee; Sam regarded it as above average, maybe seven inches; the length didn't bother Sam, it was the width. Charlie's member seemed monstrous, even compared to the rest of his mountainous body.

Sam hesitantly moved forward, taking the broken pipe into his hand and stroked it. Clear fluid oozed out the head with every upward motion, teeming Sam with a sexual anticipation of what was to come. He took the head in his mouth and momentarily savoured just how mild Charlie's fluids were.

Charlie's hands were on the back of Sam's head before the boy had a chance to acclimate to the ogre cock in his mouth. He instinctively wrapped his fingers into the blonde locks and attempted to force as much of dick into Sam's orifice. He moaned as Sam's mouth moved him into a full body sensation. His skin tingled, unlike the shock before, he felt powerful, writhing in the white hot moisture of Sam's mouth.

At most, Sam forced as much of Charlie's cock in his mouth as he could; he found himself at the midway point, saliva dribbling down his face, his shirt damp and the loud groans of Charlie had him hypnotized. The thick organ lurched in his mouth, secreting the barely bitter, but strong and present taste of nut; he sucked with all his life, whipping his tongue around the head, using the mixture of precum and spit to stroke what his mouth and throat couldn't.

Charlie's grip on the back of his head tightened; Sam sped up, even more eager now to see this muscle flex and blow.

"Oh, fuck..." Charlie hissed and pulled Sam away. His dick bounced and 1, 2, 3, multiple volleys of semen erupted from it. Sam felt it splatter his face with its wet warmth. He was amazed at just how heavily Charlie came. It was all over his face, his shirt, his hair and even the floor behind him.

Sam, looked at himself through the glue-coloured mask. He followed a voice in his head and licked his lips, tasting Charlie's cum. He smiled to himself before wiping a little more off his face and tasting it too; he wouldn't hide it, he enjoyed the taste. It didn't taste like what he was accustomed to, it reminded him, almost eerily, of Evan's—in volume, pressure and taste.

"Jesus Christ... wow," Sam said getting up and leaving him there—breathing heavily and incapable of moving. Charlie gave Sam the most intense stare he could muster, attempting send his feelings through his senses; the system overload of what transpired had yet to wear off.

Sam went back to Charlie's room and changed back into his PE gear; thinking it more sensible to trod in the rain with anyway. Bag on his back, he went back down the staircase and stood before the door; the rain had eased up.

"Where are you going?" Charlie asked, he still sported a semi, now clothed in a blue and white striped boxer brief.

"Home, I said this earlier," Sam attempted to pull the door and just as quickly it was shut. Charlie was already there, over him with his hulking form holding the door shut with an arm, annoying Sam with his unnecessary display of strength.

"Why?" he asked, showering the boy with his words, hoping they would seep in and leave him wanting more.

"Because I'm tired and I left my bedroom window open?" Sam attempted to pull the door again. And just as quickly he was strong armed again.

"I'm sure your room is fine," he stated pulling Sam in for a suffocating kiss.

"No! Charlie, let me go!" Sam roared pushing him away. He could feel it that he was overreacting but, adrenaline, the very same power that filled him with the joy of flight earlier, surged through him at the moment. Lightning flashed, and thunder shook with the force of an earthquake. The door blew in and Sam went out, ignoring the pain in his shoulder where the door hit him.

He quickly sped out into the streets and down the road, tapping into his newfound speed. The rain poured heavily, the droplets hit with the force and feel of stones, as if nature too was trying to punish him.

The streets all seemed to blur into one as he ran, soon enough something brought him to a dead stop. A figure in white stood across the road from him; droplets of water swirled around it in a spiralling pattern, concentric rings twisting and weaving like tornadoes.

Sam wiped water from his eyes and ignored the chill creeping up his spine.

"Hello?" he called to the hooded figure.

It moved quickly and flung a hand at him. The twister, as fast as he could blink, hit him with the force of way too many jocks fists and knocked him into a nearby fence. His eyes fluttered open for a moment as the figure strode, no it hovered, towards him.

Sam fought to keep his eyes open and his mind clear. He managed to get on his hands and feet, quickly he scrambled away from the broken fence; he coughed up a little blood as a cramp in his abdomen demanded his attention.

The thing appeared before him again, he could now see the blue trim and the matching straps hanging from the sleeves of the creature's cloak whipping wildly about. Soon another spiralling mass of air and water blasted him away.

He landed on a car, for a moment he tried to open his eyes. His body screamed out to him, feeling like the shell of a cracked egg, he gave up and gave in. As the rain soaked his body; he instead sighed and his eyes stayed closed.

*

Questions? Comments? Rants? This was the New Chapter 1

.

Thank you so much for supporting this story; seriously, message me guys. I love your ideas and thoughts.

I love the conversations some of you bring to me. I really love and need the feedback. I actually crave it.

Additionally, I want to thank my editor, Sam. I think I love him. He's honestly the sweetest and most supportive stranger I know. If any of you are thankful for me starting the Skyfall wagon back up, thank him.

Thank you for everything.

You can email me at operidot1919@gmail.com