"Chris, it's for you!"
The sound of your mom's voice rings throughout the small apartment you've lived in for most of your life. You and her are the only ones who ever inhabit the place, apart from your mom's occasional boyfriends every two or three years. Right now, she's not dating anyone. You're happy about this, because usually the guys your mom is into are on parole.
Inbetween the sound of your landlord mowing the lawn outside and the soundsystem that you have blasting the new Saliva record, you hear your mom again.
"He's saying it's important, can you please just come pick this up honey?"
"Yeah just one second!"
You feverishly scribble down a couple more blotches of shading onto the paper infront of you. Its the third day into summer break, and you had spent the past two days doing this same exact thing. Sitting in your room, at your desk, with a large, off-white piece of paper, scribbling. Sometimes you had the TV on, tuned to MTV or Adult Swim depending on the time of day; sometimes you would have a metal cd cranked to the loudest setting, which was always your neighbor's least favorite; but a lot of the time, you just sat in silence, completely zoned into your work.
"Christopher come take this goddamn call before I hang it up myself!"
"Chill out mom I'm almost finished!"
Your mom shouts something back at you, but you don't pay mind to it. You take two colored pencils in the same hand and make one final erratic stroke on the paper, promptly following this up by tossing your pencils to the side and hopping out of your chair, dashing to the kitchen, where your mom is hunched over the counter. She's holding the phone up to her ear with the help of her right shoulder, while her left arm is assisting her hand in scratching down some unintelligible numbers and letters onto some important document. Without words, you approach her and take the phone from her shoulder.
"Yo, whos this?"
"Fuckin took you long enough man!"
You recognize the voice on the other end as one of your friends who goes by the name Dj.
"Dj! What's up?"
"Look, I can't really get into it right now, but can you meet me at the park in, like, five?"
You're a little worried now, but thats usually the case with Dj.
About six months ago, you were getting to a point where living felt like a repetitive cycle. You would go to school when you had to, and on weekends, you would sneak out into the woods or an empty parking lot with your three friends and smoke pot. The craziest that life ever got was moshpits in underground punk shows.
All of a sudden, at school you're hearing about a new student that'll be in your grade. The day after you hear about it, you walk into art class, and there's a kid you've never seen before awkwardly sitting in your assigned seat. You walk up to him and ask him to move, and two months later, he's an integral part of your tiny friend group.
"Yeah, I can totally be there man. Should I bring anything?"
"No it's fine, just be there soon."
"I finished that drawing you wanted, I can bring it if that's okay."
"Oh, sick! Yeah!! Umm, okay I have to go, see you there."
He hangs up before you can return the goodbye.
Your mom asks about the situation, and all you say to her is that you have to go and that you'll be back in a couple hours. She tells you to stay safe.
As you hurry back to your room to shove a couple things into your backpack, you rack your brain trying to think of why Dj might need you right now. The first thing that comes to mind is his parents. One time, during a party, you and Dj sat outside, alone together, in two plastic chairs. You could hear everyone inside the house talking and laughing and you could feel the bass from the pop music they were bumping. At the same time, you could almost taste the complete silence and peace that came with how late at night it was. Between the chirping of crickets and frogs croaking, Dj told you about how a couple years ago his parents found out that he smoked, and now they don't let him do anything. The reason he moved to your town was because his parents didn't want him to hang out with his old friends, because they were bad influences on him and leaving was the only way to keep him from them. Really though, his parents had to move because his dad scored a new job here as a priest for this super fancy catholic church. Dj being forced to abandon his friends was only part of it.

More to the story coming whenever i wanna write it.

"She said she didn't want to."
Reluctantly, you tell your friends how it went trying to ask a girl to prom. You slam the car door behind you.
They all respond in disappointed moans.
"You know what, that's okay. Plenty more fish in the sea, right?"
"None of the fish fuckin like me."
One of the guys in the back speaks up,
"Maybe your lure's too small."
Stupid joke. Everyone in the truck laughs at it.
"Well, atleast his lure doesn't attract other fishermen."
Your friend in the driver's seat beside you chimes back on your behalf while he tries to start up the car. By the third key turn, the engine's running.
"Shut the fuck up man, that was once! He dropped it soon as I said no, too!"
"Mhm, right."
"I didn't even know he was flirting with me! I thought he was just being nice..."
Your friend pauses to check his mirrors, and then pulls out of the parking lot.
He continues his teasing,
"You know, if you're gay we'll accept you."
All of you giggle.
"Joey, one more word from you and I'm caving your head in with every single one of these fucking beers."
"Do it pussy."
"Fuck you!"
"Fuck YOU!"
More obnoxious laughing.
"For real though, dude, it's fine."
Joey, in the drivers seat, reassures you. "We'll find you one eventually."
"Well, maybe I just need to wait. Don't think I want anything right now, you know what I mean?"
You liar.
"That's fine. You'll have a pretty solid distraction from that shit today anyway. Don't sweat it."
The rattling of the engine and clinking of full beer bottles rings throughout the vehicle. Its annoying, but you and your friends are more annoying. You'll drown it out.
After about half an hour of shitty jokes and screaming all the lyrics to the shitty songs that you burnt onto a CD for this specific car ride, you arrive. Joey's shitty red truck didn't have an aux cord. It was beat up and outdated, and he didn't know how to rewire it to allow aux anyway, so you had the idea to burn CDs for your friends to listen to when he drove you somewhere. You were the only one that knew how to do that in the first place, so you just got used to it.
This time, he drove you all to a small patch in the woods under a bridge. Looking at it, the center was so brutalist; so much dirty grey concrete, but it was surrounded by the prettiest vibrant green bushes and plants. It was spring, so everything was pretty right now. You could point it out, but none of your friends would give a shit.
Most of them are just here to get drunk.
Admittedly though, you were too.
After hiking down to your little spot, each of you found a place to sit, and took a beer. It was early afternoon, and the sun was bright.
The way the place was situated, there was a big, flat concrete platform, where you would sit, with about 8 or 9 feet of empty space above you before the bridge started. Behind the platform was a wall that held the bridge up, and on the other side of the platform, there was a long, steep slant that ran into a river about 15 feet below you. If you weren't careful, you could easily slip on the ledge and slide into to the river.
You decided to sit on the ledge. Joey did too.
With him you were closer than most of the others, because you were the only two that were seniors in your whole friend group. You basically grew up with him. That, and he was the one that you hated the least. He was the only one that didn't make you reconsider being his friend, like everyone else you knew.
You had known him for a long time, but friendship was an entirely different subject. For the longest time actually, you hated him. He always seemed like douchebag, like the type of person that would bully you. Then at the beginning of this year, when you started making friends again, you gave him a chance. He turned out to be okay.
A couple hours go by, and the sun is hinting at going down. Almost all of the beer has been emptied out, and all you can smell is cigarette smoke. It's gross. You're letting yourself ignore it though. Contradictory the others here, you're almost completely sober. You still sat on that ledge. Joey had gotten up and moved.
Another hour goes by. The sun is setting. It's getting dark.
"We should go do something."
Someone announces.
"Like what?"
Another asks.
"I don't know, tag something. I'm fucking bored."
"We could walk to the gas station and try to get more booze."
Everyone turns to Joey.
"...No."
If they wanted more booze, then they had to have Joey with them. He looked the oldest. He almost always managed to sucker people into buying it for him.
"Oh come on, are you scared?"
"I'm not scared, I'm just sick of doing this shit for you guys."
"Take the fucking stick out of your ass."
"Suck my dick. You always depend on me to do shit for you and you never pay me back."
"So what?"
"So fucking drop it. I'm not getting you anything."
"Dude, what's your problem?"
"You're shitty friends, thats my problem."
The argument pauses. After some seconds, another drunk friend interjects.
"Joe, stop being a fag and come with us."
"Don't fucking call me a fag."
"You are one."
He's raising his voice now.
"If you want more beer then go get it yourself, I'm not coming with you."
"Do you know who the fuck you're yelling at?"
"I'll beat your ass."
"You won't."
Joey shoots up from his seat, and despite yelling and warning from everyone else, he clocks his friend in the face. The friend, he doesn't defend himself.
It gives him a black eye.
Silence.
"Ugh, fuck you."
All of your friends end up leaving to find a way to get home that doesn't involve Joey or his shitty red truck. You stay.
Joey lights a cigarette and sits with you on the ledge again, where you've sat this whole time, watching everything unfold. He offers you one, and you take it.
Instead of his lighter, he uses the end of his own to light yours.
Hm.
You wait a minute before saying anything to him.
"You feel bad for punching a 16 year old?"
He snickers.
"I mean, kind of. I don't know."
"I think it was deserved."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
Another wave of silence.
The sun is down, and it's dark now.
"Forget that fucking girl."
He mumbles as he takes another drag off his cig, "She doesn't get it. I'd take that opportunity in a heartbeat, if I was her."
"What?"
Silence.
Your heartbeat ramps up.
So much malice pent up for so long with nothing to kill. Now though, something might let you.
Something that youd actually be willing to.
You flick your cigarette into the river.


"This is how you tell me you wanna fuck me?"


He turns his head, and he stares at you.
He keeps staring at you, then he shifts himself to face you.
He puts out his cigarette on the concrete floor.
And quickly, you both lean into a kiss.
At the same time.
You're almost violent, rushing your tongue into his mouth, which he reciprocates with his own.
Another thing, he's vocal. You've heard him like this before, but never genuinely. Never for you. It's so much better when it's for you.
So much hotter.
The first time you've consciously acknowledged that he's hot.
Where is this coming from?
I can't remember the last time I felt like this.
You're barely controlling yourself; your hands run over every inch of him that they can. Face, hair, neck, spine, sides, anything.
Measuring him.
Plotting his murder.
You're taller than him. You'll pull it off.
At this point, he's changed the way he's sitting. He was in this half criss-cross position, but now he's a lot closer to you, sitting on his legs, with one hand on your face, and one hand on your thigh. The way he touches your thigh, it's turning you on. Every now and then, he'll get a little too close to your crotch, and everything gets more intense for a second. You like it.
Soon, you find yourself reproducing the same thing; you put your hand on his thigh, and you slowly bring it upward. With you, though, you have a goal. Your hand makes its way under his shirt, where you trace the top of his belt, eventually getting to the buckle.
You whisper to him.
"This okay?"
You feel like you're sweating.
"Mm, yeah."
You probably are.
Gently, you pull back, ending the kiss, and you look him in the eyes. You see him, and your mind fills up with everything you want to do to him.
Kill.
Keeping the eye contact, you start to undo his belt.
Belt undone.
He grins at you.
"Ride me," you say to him.
He grins wider.
"Yes sir."

Suck is much more focused on the sexual aspect of itself compared to the other stories, so I will not be putting it up here. Click the icon above to be brought to the Wattpad page for it, where you will be able to read it.