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    Mark Arbour
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

The Land Whore - 8. Chapter 8


March 24, 1973



A very excited Brad sat next to me on the plane as we descended into LAX. The last few days had been, well, weird. I'd gotten my loans, although it had cost me another blow job. Not only that, but I'd been able to borrow enough to cover the $2,000,000 without selling my house in Saratoga. Good thing too. I'd need it if there were cost overruns. Sam had come home but was staying in a guest room, and staying to himself as well. We glared at each other now. Stupid fucker. Meanwhile, I'd spent my time working to catch up before I left, trying to help JP deal with this upheaval in his life, and spending time with Roger.

And Roger was the problem. I really liked him. I began to wonder if I was capable of loving more than one person, or more importantly, of loving just one person. Suddenly going to LA seemed like a chore, not an exciting adventure. Peter no longer seemed like the together actor, hot and sexy; he seemed like a puppet that everyone controlled. Roger wasn't like that at all. He knew what he wanted and he went for it, took it, demanded it. I squirmed in my seat and giggled, feeling his last goodbye fuck still inside me. So here I am, landing in LA, and I'm not really all that excited to see Peter since I already miss Roger. Then again, when we reconnect, I'll be glad I'm here. I'm like a ping pong ball. I'm like Peter. Now that was disturbing.

I pulled out my newspaper to distract my mind. Trouble in Washington. Yesterday the Watergate burglary had gone from a suspicious break-in to a full blown scandal. Jim McCord sent a letter to Judge Sirica explaining that he and his co-defendants had been pressured to lie under oath and to take the fall. He alleged that there was political pressure on them to remain silent and plead guilty. The press was going nuts now, and people were starting to wonder how close to the President all of these activities would take us. The economy wasn't in great shape to begin with; just what we need, a government in crisis.

Brad grabbed my hand as we landed. He hadn't been on a plane in years, and here he was, destined to travel around with me for the next week. We strolled through the airport and found Josh waiting for us. He was all smiles. Brad seemed to take to him at first sight, which was great. Josh drove us to Peter's house, and Brad was dutifully impressed. We hung out, waiting for Peter to get home, and ended up going for a swim for something to do.

Josh came out wearing a Speedo. He was a walking work of art. Brad was just ten and a half, and it never dawned on me that his sexual curiosity would start at such a young age, but his eyes were locked on Josh and there was a look of awe in his eyes. I smiled to myself. In two or three years, it just may be lust. Was Brad gay? Did he even know yet? I was just starting to think about that when Peter came bouncing in. His smile, his kiss, and just as I thought, I was glad to be back in LA.

We left Brad with Josh and retired to his room to make love. It was good, it was nice, but the connection had weakened. I wondered if that was my fault for having two other men that attracted my attention. Maybe, but I was going to make this as good as I could. I needed Peter, and he needed me. I just wasn't sure I wanted him anymore.

March 25, 1973

We spent a wonderful evening together. The next day I had planned to take Josh and Brad down to Anaheim to hit Disneyland. I even had a room booked at the Disneyland hotel, but I wasn't really looking forward to it. I guess I just had too many things on my plate. Josh saved me in the end. He volunteered to take Brad down himself, and Brad, looking at him with that hero worship, obviously thought that was a great idea. So they took off in the morning, leaving Peter and me with the whole day to enjoy each other.

We made love all morning then went out to a local bistro for lunch. I needed to have the talk with Peter about Josh, and now seemed as good a time as any. “I want to hire Josh to help me raise money for my projects. Will you let me steal him away?”

He studied me indulgently. “Sure, go ahead, steal another one of my, uh, employees.” I could tell he was a little irritated, but he didn't make a big deal about it.

“Thanks Peter,” I said. “You are the best. I think the kid has talent, and I think he will do really well marketing programs.”

“You think?”

I giggled. “I know it. I've seen his marketing tool.” He laughed with me. We spent the rest of the day bumming around LA. We went to Malibu to do a little house shopping. It was a pricey area, and the kind of place I'd need to impress my Hollywood clientele would set me back more money than I could afford right now, but it was fun to look anyway.

Brad and Josh got back the next morning and it seemed that both of them had a great time. I'd never seen Brad open up to someone like that before, at least so quickly. Maybe it was because Josh was closer to him in age, but willing to actually pay attention to him. It was cute to see Brad look at Josh with such hero worship, and to see Josh treat him with such respect.

Peter was busy doing whatever it was that Peter did during the week, while the three of us went on a studio tour. I thought Peter set it up, but the guide made it clear that it was Jackie who had done the leg work. That explained the unrestricted access we'd gotten. So we were having a great time when we wandered into the animation area, and then the whole tour changed.

There was a quiet guy off in a corner working on some drawings. All the other animators chatted with us, but this guy had his head in his work and didn't even acknowledge us. I ignored him. I guess I'd decided a long time ago that anyone who didn't want me around didn't have to worry about it. I'd leave them alone too. Brad didn't seem to have that gene. He walked straight over to the guy and stood next to him, looking over his shoulder.

I watched them out of the corner of my eye while I chatted with the others. Josh wasn't interested in animation so he snuck out to go to the bathroom, which unfortunately left me as the sole focus of attention. I wanted to watch Brad, but it was hard with all this required interaction. Brad stood there next to the guy, neither one of them saying anything. I finally managed to disengage from the other people and let them all go back to work. The guide and I stood there staring at Brad and the guy from a distance.

“That's Avery,” she said. “He’s like a drawing savant. He doesn't have many social skills, doesn't really interact with anyone, but he is an amazing artist.”

I saw Brad point to something Avery was drawing, and Avery paused for a minute and talked to Brad briefly. Then he handed Brad a sketching pen, and let Brad work on the panel. The guide was ready to move in to stop them but I held her back. “Let's see what happens,” I said. She nodded and smiled at me.

We couldn't see what they were drawing, but Brad made some changes, then Avery did, and so forth. Josh came back and joined us. He seemed a little uncomfortable with Brad over there, all by himself with Avery, but it didn't bother me at all. We stood there for over half an hour until Josh and the guide were beside themselves with impatience.

I walked over to the table where Brad was. “You ready to see the rest of the studio?”

“I want to stay here with Avery and help him work on these panels,” Brad said calmly.

“Brad, Avery has work to do. He's not allowed to have a kid looking over his shoulder all day,” I said.

Brad gave me a dirty look that said I was being condescending. Avery intervened. “Um, he's really helping me out. He can stay if he wants to, I mean, that's if it's OK with you.”

Brad gave me a triumphant look. “Alright. We will be back in a few hours. Will that work Avery?”

“Yeah, that's fine.” And with that they both turned their attention back to the boards.

The guide was flummoxed by this, and was obviously uncomfortable with leaving Brad there. I short-circuited her objections. “Is Jackie Diamond on the lot?” I asked, using LA parlance.

We found out that she was. They took me over to a set where filming was in process. Jackie was standing behind and to the right of the director. Anyone who didn't know better would think she was in charge. Maybe she actually was. At a break in the action I approached her.

“It's so good to see you darling!” she said with that false happiness she used in public.

“It's good to see you too. You look as beautiful as always,” I said, mimicking her false charm.

“Aren't you so nice? How long are you in town for?”

“We leave this afternoon if I can drag my nephew away. He's locked himself in the animation studio with Avery.” This was all perfunctory conversation. I'd already phoned her and told her my schedule. I wanted her to know that I was on her side.

“I hope he's not bothering them,” she said, worrying about potential damage control.

“I think they're fine. Avery asked me if he could stay. I think Brad just found his career calling.” We both laughed at that. I hung out with her during the shoot. She was really funny. In between scenes she'd lean over and gossip to me about all the actors, who was fucking whom, which ones hated each other, etc. It was a blast. After a few hours, the guide reminded me that we were supposed to pick up Brad.

“Jackie, it was great hanging with you,” I said casually. “Next time I come to LA, we will have to do this again.”

“Stefan, you are such a charmer. You can keep me company any time.”

We found Brad exactly as we left him. “Do we have to go?” he whined.

“Yes we do. Say goodbye to Avery.”

“He was a great help,” Avery said. “You can bring him back any time.” Brad beamed at that.

“Thanks Avery,” I said. “Next time we're in LA, we just might do that.”

We headed to the car where Josh was waiting to whisk us off to the airport. We went through all of the rigmarole of getting our boarding passes, and finding the gate, and boarding the plane. Brad said nothing. It wasn't until we were airborne that I realized I had a very pissed off Brad sitting next to me.

“Why couldn't we stay longer?” he asked.

“Because we all have things we planned to do. Besides, we cannot just impose on Peter indefinitely.”

“He wouldn't care. He likes having you around. And Josh is great. I could have spent more time with Avery and hung out with him.”

“Brad, do not be petulant. I will take you back to LA as soon as I can. And when things pick up, I'm going to buy a house down there, so then we will not have to worry about imposing on anyone. Alright? Can we try and have a good time for the rest of the week?”

“We're going to Claremont, how can it be a good time? I'll have to see my brother and sister and I hate them.”

I felt bad about that. “Yes, but your grandparents want to see both of us.” That didn't seem to ease his mind at all. “So if you were going to go anywhere, where would you go? Except LA.” I quickly inserted.

“I want to go to New York and see the art museums there.”

“Really? I did not know you were interested in museums.”

He rolled his eyes at me. “I love art.”

“This summer I'm going to take you to Paris. You can spend days in the Louvre if you want.”

His eyes lit up. “You're taking me to Paris?” I nodded. He gave me a big hug, and after that, my easy-going traveling companion was back.


I studied Tonto as she looked into her cup of coffee, seemingly mesmerized by it. I loved her dearly, the grandmother that had taken me in when I'd gotten to the US and loved me despite my flaws, or maybe because of them. But she was sad today, and I knew why. She was sad about her grandchildren. Not me, but Billy's kids. His older son, Nick, who just turned 15, and his daughter, Beatrice, who just turned 13, were flat out mean to Brad. They didn't want anything to do with him, and they made no bones about it.

I told myself that I should be tolerant, but it was hard. They were brats, both of them, and I had absolutely no desire to spend any time with them. Brad didn't either. We'd only been here for a day and a half, and it was long enough. We were planning to leave in the morning.

“Stefan, I feel so responsible for their horrible behavior. It just kills me. Where did I go wrong? Have I lost my ability to be a good parent?”

“It's not your fault. Janice planted these emotions in them long before she killed herself. You read the suicide note she left JP. She hated Brad and the others picked up on it. You are doing your best.”

“So you say, but it's not good enough. They cause problems. They run around town like spoiled little rich kids. Everyone hates them. I'm not sure what to do.”

“Why not send them off to boarding school? Raising teenagers is too much for you and grandfather anyway. Send them to one of those snobby east coast schools and they will realize they're not all that special after all.”

She smiled at that. “I've honestly thought about it. Maybe you're right.”

I smiled my most dazzling smile back at her. “Besides, then you'd have more spare time to come visit us.” Just then we heard a loud thump upstairs and we both went tearing up to the third floor.

When we got to the landing we heard Nick talking, his voice already deep. “You're nothing but a little bastard. It's your fault that Daddy died, and it's your fault that Mom died too.”

“Fuck you,” I heard Brad scream.

“He's right,” chimed in Beatrice. “You don't belong here. You aren't even a Schluter.”

Tonto's face grew red with rage as she busted into the room. Brad was on the floor where Nick had thrown him, a hand on his stomach and tears rolling down his cheeks. “You two,” she screamed at Nick and Beatrice, “are just evil. I never thought I'd say that about my own grandchildren, but you are. I can't believe you can say those things to Brad.”

Nick eyed her defiantly. “Why not? It's true.”

“It most certainly is not,” I said. “Your father was very clear about how he felt. Even though Brad isn't his biological son, he liked him better than either of you two. And now I can understand why.”

Tonto looked at me horrified. I stared at her, my expression hard and unyielding. “We are going to leave. I am not going to be around these two. It is bad enough that they're turning the whole town against us, but to see them abuse their own brother is just too much. Next time I visit, it will be when they are not here.”

I motioned to Brad and we went into our rooms to pack up our stuff. He didn't say anything. Tonto came in and begged us to stay.

I pulled her aside. “I love you, you know that, and so does Brad. But those two are horrible, and I cannot subject him to them. I just cannot. Come visit us. It's much more comfortable.” She just nodded and hugged us both.

I'd called the airport and changed our flights, and then we headed to Columbus. Brad didn't say anything for the entire trip and neither did I. I was livid. We checked our bags and headed to the gate, and it wasn't until we sat down to wait that Brad spoke.

“I'm really sorry about that.”

“Why should you be sorry?” I asked.

“I should just ignore them. They've always hated me, so I guess I just hate them right back. I just don't want to be around them anymore. Can we not go back and see them? Ever?”

“I have no desire to see them either,” I said. “They're brats, and your grandmother certainly has her hands full. We will go back when they are not around. But you know, they are still just kids. Maybe someday they will grow up and you can have some kind of relationship with them.” He didn't say anything, but I knew he wasn't convinced.

“So how long until we get home?” he asked resignedly.

“We're not going home. We're going to New York,” I said, springing the surprise on him.

“Really?” And with that his foul mood disappeared.

March 31, 1973

New York had been a blast. We'd done all the touristy things, gone to the Statue of Liberty and the Empire State Building, gone to see the brand new World Trade Center that was slated to open next week, but most of our time had been spent in museums. I'd gotten Brad a sketch pad and pencils, and after that all he'd wanted to do was wander around until he found something that caught his eye and then sketch his own version of it. To be honest, I was getting pretty bored. I'd bought a book, read the paper, done whatever I could to kill the time. This Watergate thing was heating up and it seemed a certainty that there would be hearings on the issue, probably in the Senate. There goes the economy, I thought ruefully.

But I had learned to turn the negative into a positive. My business was real estate and I had a lock on one of the areas that was booming despite the economic doldrums elsewhere. Doldrums like Claremont, where a shift had been eliminated at the mill and layoffs were already hurting the local economy.

I gazed off to my right and saw a young man, probably about 21, looking at a Jackson Pollock painting while stealing glances at me. I told Brad that I was going to wander around and to stay in this gallery. Then I moved closer to this guy until I was only a few paintings away. I looked furtively over at him and caught him checking me out. I moved over to his painting.

“You like this one?” I asked.

“Yeah, it's nice,” he said. He had a deep voice that was scratchy and he reeked of cigarettes. It gave him a sexy bohemian flavor. He had intense brown eyes to go with his Eastern European looks, with long brown hair that was kind of scruffy. He had that sexy artist thing going, along with a thin, lanky body, the kind that doesn't get much exercise or much food. A starving artist, I decided.

“You would not happen to know where the restrooms are, would you?” I said, flirting shamelessly.

“Yeah, they're around the corner, and...” he smiled at me. “It would probably be easier just to show you.”

He led me down the hall to an obscure part of the museum where there were hardly any people. At the end of the hall was a bathroom that was empty. I headed toward the last stall and he followed me as if he was going to take the one next to me. I opened the stall door and held it open, inviting him in. He still hesitated, so I reached out and gently grabbed his hand and pulled him in.

“We're gonna get caught,” he said, mildly terrified as I undid his pants.

“Not a chance,” I said as I pushed my lips onto his and jammed my tongue into his mouth. He fought me for a second until I managed to pull his hardening cock out of his pants, and after that he was putty in my hands. I pushed him against the wall and dropped to take his cock in my mouth. It was nice, average size, average width, and I worked him as I'd done ever since I became an expert. I looked up at his face and his expression was one of ecstasy. It was such a great feeling to give someone, a stranger in this case, such amazing pleasure. If he was having a bad day, this would change that. In no time at all he was moaning like crazy and I felt his load fill my mouth and flow down my throat.

After he came, he got really nervous. “Thanks,” he said, and rushed out of the bathroom. I giggled to myself and headed to the sink to wash my hands. Maybe hanging out at art museums wasn't such a bad idea after all.

The next morning we were up and at the airport, catching an early morning plane. It was a long flight, about five hours, but we were both tired and slept most of the time. We woke up right before we landed.

“Did you have a good vacation?” I asked Brad.

“It was the best. Thanks so much. It was the coolest.” He said this with a smile and a twinkle in his eye, a dangerous combination I thought. He was going to be quite the charmer.

Rafael was there to pick us up, and after a short drive up 101 we were finally home. Isidore and the other kids were thrilled to see us. Brad ran off with Ace to tell him all about his adventures.

“It seems as if Bradley had fun,” Isidore said. I recounted the trip in detail for her, especially the part about Brad in the studio. JP came rolling in and I told them both about Tonto and the kids. JP got a pained expression on his face. He would be trying to think of a way to solve the problem, always the one to jump in and fix things. Good luck with that one.

I thought dinner that night would be a really fun experience but it wasn't. Sam was there too, and I'd greeted him like I always had, but the tension between everyone was still intense. This was unhealthy.

After dinner JP escaped into his study, leaving Sam and I alone to just hang out. “So what is the problem with you two?” I asked.

“I did everything you said I should. I broke it off with that girl, paid for her to get an abortion, and he still won't talk to me.” Sam seemed pissed off.

“Did you say you were sorry? Did you try to ease the pain you caused him?” I asked.

“Didn't I do enough? I had that girl kill our baby for him, what more do I have to do?”

“You just do not get it do you? Now you are blaming him for the death of your embryo? Is that fair? Is that his fault? He is not the one who fucked her. You did. You have not done anything for him. You've just cleaned up your mess.”

He looked thoughtful. “He just ignores me.”

“You are not willing to put forward the effort to get him back. You have to woo him back. That's the way he is. You screwed up. You hurt him. So you have to worm your way back into his heart, just like when you first started dating. You assume that since you solved the problem he should give you a fucking medal and take you back with open arms. You are a fool for thinking that.” He said nothing. “He will not stay single for long. He is too good a catch. The ball is in your court.”

That seemed to really alarm him. I could tell that the thought of losing JP was about the worst thing that could happen, in his mind. I grabbed his hand and led him to my bedroom. “Why do you not show me that you're happy to see me back at home?” I said.

We made love, and it was nice, but all it was was a physical release and an emotional salve to try and ease his pain. Still, it was good for me.

I got up an hour later and headed to the kitchen. My body clock was out of whack with the time change, and I was hungry. I snacked a bit and wandered around the huge house until I spotted a glow on the balcony. I walked out to find JP there, smoking his nightly joint. I walked up to him and he handed it to me, and I got high with him, both of us sitting there saying nothing.

“Brad must have been pretty upset after Nick said those things,” JP said.

“Not as upset as Tonto,” I told him. “I had just suggested that she send them off to boarding schools. They're a pain in the ass, and causing problems in town. Seems they do not know their place in the community, all the obligations that come with being wealthy.” I snickered and that made him giggle. He'd said the same things about me when I first got to the US.

“Maybe you should have explained it to them?” he said, teasing me.

“I think that's your turf. You're the expert.” We sat there silently, smoking and gazing at the stars.

“So you were with Sam?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said simply. He wanted to talk about this, but he is such a naturally closed person. “Are you going to talk about this problem, or are you just going to ignore it?”

“What good will talking do?” he said.

“JP, it's me. Let down the drawbridge. Let me in. I will not hurt you. Cannot you trust even me?” He shook his head and got up and headed to his room. I watched him leave and stared at the stars for awhile. JP was one of those people who helped everyone else, demanded to be let in, but when it came to him, to his inner feelings, he wasn't about to let anyone in unless they fought their way in. I got up and headed to his room. The door was open. He wanted me to force him to talk about this.

He was in bed pretending to read a book. I stripped off all of my clothes seductively and saw him watching me out of the corner of his eye. “What are you doing?” he asked, rather rudely.

“I'm spending the night with you,” I said as I slid into his bed.

“I want to be alone,” he countered.

“No you do not. You want me to be here, forcing you to pay attention to me, letting me pay attention to you,” I said as I ran my hand up his leg and brushed across his groin.

“Stop it!” he said rudely. “I'm reading. Fucking leave me alone.”

“No way,” I said, and jumped on him. He tried to push me off and we wrestled around on the bed. He was really pissed off, and he pushed me away, fought me, doing everything he could do short of hitting and kicking.

“Leave me the fuck alone!” he yelled again. JP didn't yell. I was getting into his psyche.

“Make me,” I said, taunting him. He pushed me onto my back and jumped on me violently, almost knocking the wind out of me. I took advantage of his move to wrap my legs and my arms around him. He struggled, pushed, tried to pry my arms and legs loose, but he couldn't, I was wrapped around him like a hungry Python.

All of the rubbing and fighting was causing his dick to rub against mine and he calmed down enough to realize that we were both hard as a rock. He pulled away from me and looked me in the eyes, his blazing with rage and lust, mine daring him to fuck me. He rolled me over and lubed me quickly and rammed his dick into me. He fucked me with a rage I'd never felt from him, and it was amazing. He ground into me with an energy and assertiveness I didn't know he had. He was so into it he made me cum long before he did, but he still felt so good inside me I went with it. He came with a loud growl and bit my neck hard, almost drawing blood.

As soon as he was done he rolled off of me and faced away from me. I knew he was crying. I pulled him to my chest and let him cry on me. “I'm sorry Stefan; I didn't mean to be so, well, mean.”

I smiled at him. “I'm not complaining. That was fun.” He just shook his head and almost smiled. “So talk to me JP.”

“I still love him, but he hurt me so bad. I don't know if I can let him in again,” he sobbed. “He acts like this is all my fault and that he's doing me a favor by dumping that slut.”

“JP, he is wrong. But it has been hard on him to have this girl abort his baby, and to just toss her aside. Who can he turn to for solace? You? You're the one he hurt. He's really all alone on this one.” He looked at me, not thinking of things from Sam’s point of view.

“So I'm just supposed to welcome him back with open arms? Pretend he didn't hurt me at all?” he whined, back on his high horse.

“You could give him a chance to explain things,” I said.

“I've given him a chance,” he said.

“No you have not. Whenever he approaches you, you throw guilt at him, right?” He said nothing, but we both knew I was right. “So you can sit here all alone, and keep your pride, or you can reach out to him just a little bit and give him a chance to show how much he loves you.” He said nothing; just lay there while I stroked his back.

I got up to pee, and he was still there on his back, looking sad. “I'll be right back,” I said. “You want something to drink?” He just shook his head.

I went down to Sam's room and walked right in. He was awake too, looking glum like JP. “You don't knock?” he asked snidely.

“Shut up and come with me,” I snapped.

“Where are we going?” he asked.

“What about “shut up” did you not get?” I snapped back even more rudely.

I took him to JP's door and he stopped. “I'm not going in there.”

“Oh yes you are. If you do not, I will devote all of my energies into making your life a living hell.”

“And that would be different from now in what way?”

I sighed. “I am getting really tired of no one in this house trusting me.” He rolled his eyes and followed me into JP's room.

JP saw him and tensed. “What do you want?” he asked.

“Stefan made me come in here,” he said. “I'll go if you want me to.”

This was the crisis mode. This is where JP could tell him to leave and damn their relationship. “No, you can stay if you want to. Do you want to?”

He softened. “Yeah, I want to.” I stood by the door while Sam walked over and climbed into bed. “I'm really sorry that I hurt you. I've been so mad at myself that I've been directing it at you. I know I've hurt you. I just can't imagine that you'd ever be willing to forgive me, and that makes me sad.”

JP hugged him and I slipped out of the room. My work here was done.

Copyright © 2011 Mark Arbour; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

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It is a horrible thing to say but sometimes you just have to cut your loses with family and do what you can to survive them.

 

So glad to see Tonto again, even if it was way to brief... She was always the best person in this saga other than JP...

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I trust Stef; he's one of the smartest characters in CAP Land. His loyalty to JP and Brad are admirable. Looking forward to more Tonto and Sam finding his balls. Awesome work, thanks.

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Again long ago and far away, Stef was a person who only thought of himself. Not any more. This is what I love about this story, these characters grow.

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Lifeisnever what we imagine it will be. As Children we are sold the magic of Christmas, that however only last a few years. The rest is for ones self to to untangle before it is too late. Sam has now learnt consequences of ones actions do cause reactions.

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Stef disappoints me that he leaves a 10 year old alone in an NYC museum just so he can have sex. Is there a single male in the CAP series who doesn't think with his dick?

I'd send Nick to St. Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys and Bitty to Flintridge Sacred Heart Academy & Comvent.

 

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I think this portrayal of Stefan and Peter is one of the most honest, true-to-life ones I’ve ever read.

Stefan is entranced with Peter and fancies himself falling in love. Then he sees a new side of Peter, where he’s letting Jackie Diamond pull his strings. Whiplash quick, Stefan is disillusioned and it’s essentially over. 

“I needed Peter, and he needed me. I just wasn't sure I wanted him anymore.”

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