Journal Entry

Journal Entry: Dash’s Confession part II

I stayed true to my side of the bargain; he was in with the “in” crowd. And boy was his ex pissed. Nobody knew he was my new companion though, not yet. The bargaining was supposed to be a give and take of pleasure, on the occasion money or to get a teacher off their backs, we popular kids had a way with the teachers. To make a person popular in exchange wasn’t so much against the rules as unheard of.

If we couldn’t be with a fellow A-lister how could we make someone we’re with an A-lister? Was that a loophole in our rule or a fine print secret waiting to bite me in the ass? I didn’t know, so I didn’t risk it.

It didn’t take much nudging to get Fenton accepted though. He was always cool, his parents and him save the fucking town almost as constantly as Danny Phantom for crying out loud, and it didn’t hurt that he was hot. In fact, due to recent events the whole thing looked like Foley and Manson were the only reasons he was considered a loser, thus the two pissed teens sending death glares our way every chance they could.

And while everyone was enjoying his company during school hours, I was enjoying it after. And best of all, he didn’t limit himself to the campus like the rules dictated. In fact, when I explained the rules to him he metaphorically crumbled them up and tossed them over his shoulder.

That was hot.

He didn’t wear tight little flirty outfits like the others either, though he did start to dress a bit more stylishly to befit his new status. That was what I found so annoying about the others; they changed too easily, slipping into their whorish persona. Fenton didn’t change, wouldn’t change. He treated this like a mutual agreement, he referred to it as business, and he carried it out with the intensity an industrialist would a hostile takeover.

He did insist on a condom after our first time, something no one else ever did. When I found out he had gone to be tested I felt a bit insulted, but understood. I don’t think I even know how many people I’ve been with since freshmen year. It came back negative, and I felt the nervous tension melt from his muscles as he read the results in my lap. We were sitting down in his parent’s lab. I had requested he wear a costume, anything I decided on, and he had said yes, but only after he read the results.

Because if it had come back positive I don’t know what either of us would have done. Since I was the only person he’d ever been with, an ego-swelling little secret he divulged to me, that would mean I was positive too, and thinking back to all those people I’d slept with. Not a pretty thought.

But everything was fine for him, though I’d never tell him he got me a little nervous and now I had some results of my own to wait on, he wouldn’t be learning about that in this lifetime. So he turned to me, capturing my lips with a smile and still in his relieved mood asked where my little costume was.

I told him it was there. In the lab. He gave me a puzzled frown before he saw my eyes stray to the form fitting jumpsuits his family owned. Jazz had always been able to fit into his mother’s spare, but as he didn’t fit neither his father’s nor his mother’s, he got one all his own. Custom made just for him. It looked like the regular orange spare jumpsuits he always had lying around. Unlike those spares though this had various hidden fixtures that stored weapons against ghosts and for some hilarious reason, a spare cell phone. It was a very dark blue, almost black, and clung to him so perfectly.

I’d never asked anyone else to put on costumes unless I was bored, role-play was never a favorite of mine, but I wasn’t going for that here. I just wanted to see him in something other than jeans and a T shirt, and nothing; I’ve seen him in nothing too.

It was difficult to be quiet; his parents were up stairs, bustling around in the kitchen. We could hear them, and if they had walked in on us…well it’s fair to say me and Fenton wouldn’t have seen each other as long as we did.

It was amazing how quiet he could be, considering how loud he usually was.

It was in that time, while I was slowly helping him undress and step into the suit, that I realized he wasn’t acting like I originally thought he’d act. My ideal match had always been a little on the shy side, embarrassed and a little ashamed of what we were doing and where, it was what Fenton had been in the very beginning, our little chase game, but….as soon as he accepted he seemed to change.

At first I was too excited about finally getting him to really care that he was making all the moves, but …well I don’t know. I certainly wasn’t turned off by his new found confidence; it was just not what I’d expected. As I zipped him up, running my tongue over the exposed flesh before concealing it inside the suit, I thought maybe I would get bored of him sooner then the others, because he changed.

Not like the others who considered themselves whores and started acting like it, but he still changed. Changes were always a turnoff. But when I looked at him, flushed and breathless in his little jumpsuit, I couldn’t imagine getting bored with him. He didn’t have to do anything, simply looking at him made me hard. How could I possibly get tired of him?