Unrequited - 1. First Time

Unrequited

When I get to the bottom I go back to the top of the slide

Where I stop and I turn and then I go for a ride

'Til I get to the bottom and I see you again, yeah yeah yeah

Do you, don't you want me to love you

I'm coming down fast, but I'm miles above you

-The Beatles

Anthony sighed. Emily was going to make them late...again.

"Come on E!" he shouted, getting up from the couch and standing at the foot of the stairs, tapping his foot impatiently.

"Okay, okay. Christ Anthony, where's the fucking fire?" Emily said, prancing down the stairs. Anthony narrowed his eyes as he studied the skimpy red outfit she was wearing. That dress showed off way too much skin.

"Who are you supposed to be?" he asked.

Emily sighed and waved one of the plastic sais she held in her hand. "Elektra, duh. From Daredevil."

"Couldn't you be someone who wears a bit more clothing?"

"It's a costume Anthony, lighten up," she said, tucking the sais into her boot.

"Fine," Anthony said. "I just better not be peeling some random guy off of you tonight."

"I don't even understand why you are coming. You weren't invited."

"Because Mom doesn't trust you."

"I don't need a babysitter. I'm fifteen years old."

"Act like it."

"Whatever," she said, rolling her eyes and pushing past him. He grabbed her wrist as she breezed past, pulled hard on her arm.

"Listen to me," he said sternly. "I am going to this party with you to make sure you don't get into a situation that you can't handle. But I am also hoping to have a good time, which I can't do if I have to jump in to save your ass from making a bad decision all night long. So try to be fuckin' responsible and don't do anything stupid."

"I'm not a child!" Emily snarled, pulling against his grip.

"Then stop acting like one," Anthony replied, letting go of her arm without warning. Emily stumbled back, hit the wall behind her and glared at Anthony.

"You are such a prick," she said, her voice trembling.

"And you are such a princess," Anthony said, leaning forward and kissing her on the top of the head. She pushed him away.

"Let's go."

* * *

Anthony leaned back against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, hopefully in a clear message to tell anyone who thought of approaching him to back off. He wasn't in the mood to socialize.

This was just fucking annoying. Emily was a spoiled, self centered, hypersexed teenager that excelled at nothing but getting into trouble, usually trouble that involved the opposite sex and Anthony was beginning to feel that most of his rapidly disappearing youth had been spent trying to keep her out of trouble. It wasn't necessary for his parents to ask him to accompany her to the costume party her friend was having. He would have done it anyway, despite Emily's protests...which there were quite a few of. He had even rented a costume to fit in. And as long as Emily behaved, she wouldn't have any reason to be embarrassed. Unfortunately, Emily and behaving sensibly were two things that rarely went hand in hand.

So he leaned against the wall, listening to the music and watching her through the black mask around his eyes. In all honesty, he rather liked his costume of Zorro, the famous swordsman. The mask and hat made it so it was hard to tell who he was and the sword could prove useful if one of Emily's young suitors decided to try anything inappropriate. His eyes surveyed the room. Emily was dancing rather suggestively with a group of female friends while some of the males in the room looked on. Not something he appreciated, but also not something he could do anything about. He turned and walked to the other side of the room, where there were platters of food and trays of drinks spread out on a couple of tables. He took a cup of punch and a handful of peanut M&Ms, then turned back to watch the crowd. There were a lot of groups of people just standing around and talking. The smokers would be outside and there was a rather amorous couple making out on the stairs but besides that, everything looked fairly normal. He glanced at Emily, who was still dancing and relaxed slightly.

He even recognized a couple of people from his own class, though most of the crowd was Emily's age. He saw the class president, some of the jocks and the drama kids. A diverse crowd indeed.

Another guy he recognized vaguely from school came over to look at what snacks were available. Anthony wracked his brain a moment, trying to remember the kid's name. He was fairly new, incredibly smart and pretty snobby...never spoke to anyone or smiled or socialized much at all. Kept that stuck up nose buried in a book most of the time.

Samuel, Anthony thought. Not Sam or Sammy, but Samuel. Stuck up name for a stuck up kid. Anthony was a little surprised to see Samuel there at all. He seemed like the type that would be holed up at home on a Saturday night, reading a boring book or playing on his computer or doing whatever it was that geek losers did in their spare time.

Samuel moved a little bit closer, taking a cup of punch and examining the bowls of chips.

"Nice skirt loser," Anthony said, smirking.

Samuel looked up at him, his gray eyes widening behind his glasses as a blush spread up his fair cheeks. "It's a kilt you moron," Samuel said, brushing a lock of brown hair away from his face.

"Looks like a skirt to me. A plaid skirt that goes well with that frilly shirt of yours," Anthony said. He knew perfectly well it was kilt and combined with the lace up shirt and boots Samuel did look very much like a Scottish highlander. But Anthony would be damned if he told Samuel how good he looked.

"Well thank you for that stunning display of idoicy," Samuel said, rolling his eyes and walking away. Anthony stared at his retreating back for a moment, a little amused. He had thought the quiet, stuck up kid would shrink away or ignore him, not throw another insult, however weak, back into his face.

From the corner of his eye, Anthony saw his sister break away from the pack of dancers to take a cup from a young man. She lifted it up to her lips to drink and Anthony cursed under his breath, pushed through the crowd.

He pulled the cup free from Emily's hand when she was about to take a drink and she gaped at him angrily. "What the hell-" she started.

"Are you fucking stupid?" Anthony asked. "You know better than to take a drink from someone you don't know or to leave one unattended. If you want a drink, go get your own. Then you know that no one had a chance to slip something into it."

"You are so fucking paranoid!" Emily exclaimed. "What is your problem?"

"Your attitude is getting to be a problem," Anthony snapped.

Emily's face turned red and she lifted her hands, attempted to shove him. He caught both her wrists in his free hand, pulled her close and spoke in her ear.

"Do you want to cause a scene?" he asked softly. "Here, in front of all your classmates, so they can have fresh gossip on Monday? Because if you follow through with that course of action, if you even think about touching me, I'll carry you out of here over my shoulder."

"You are such a jerk," Emily spat out, wrenching herself free and stalking to the other side of the room. Anthony sighed and went into the kitchen, poured the drink down the sink. The night was still fairly young and Emily's act was already getting old. He turned around, looking for a trash can to throw the cup away in. He spied one in the corner and on his way to it when he saw Samuel again. He was talking to the hostess of this little soiree, a tiny little sophomore dressed as a witch. He watched as the girl said something that Samuel apparently found amusing. He even smiled and Anthony found himself smiling as well, unsure why.

He threw the cup away and walked back into the main room, danced a little, made sure Emily was behaving. She was curled up on the couch in between two guys who looked too old for her to be talking to, but neither one of them was trying to touch her, so it was all good.

Later on that night more and more people arrived and it became harder and harder to keep Emily within his sight at all times. He settled for periodic checks on her, before going back to dancing.

He saw Samuel a few times, dancing himself, mostly with the hostess in the witch costume. Anthony watched him smile at the girl, spin her merrily and was unsettled by the cold ball of jealousy in his stomach. He rolled his eyes at himself and checked on Emily again, who was leaning against the wall, drinking a drink that Anthony had gotten for her and talking to a guy dressed up as a pirate.

He saw Samuel near the food setup again and walked over, deliberately bumping him as he went by. Samuel stumbled and some of the punch in his cup sloshed over the rim, spilling on his shirt.

"Oh shit. I'm sorry," Anthony said, genuinely meaning it. He had just bumped Samuel to annoy him but hadn't meant to cause Samuel to spill anything.

"Oh," Samuel said, staring down at the stain. "It's okay, I'm sure it was an accident."

Anthony felt that uncomfortable twist in his stomach again.

"Shit, I'm really sorry. I'll pay to have it cleaned if you want."

Samuel waved him away. "It's all right."

"Are you Scottish?" Anthony asked suddenly.

"Uh...partly," Samuel asked. "Why?"

"You just look really authentic with your skirt. I was wondering if it was a rental costume or something you actually owned."

"It's a kilt. And yes, I own it. My father is Scottish."

"You don't have an accent."

"I was raised in the States. My mother is an American."

"Hmm." Anthony moved in closer. "So tell me, Samuel, are you going commando under that kilt?"

Samuel turned bright red. "W-what?"

"You heard me. I'm asking if you're wearing anything under that kilt of yours." Anthony moved in closer. He felt a buzzing in his head, let his hand brush against the back of Samuels bare knee, travel slowly up his leg. Samuel backed away, looking at him with wide eyes. "Stop," he said, his voice shaking. Anthony blinked, a little surprised. Christ, he was only teasing him. What was his problem?

"What's your problem?" Anthony asked. "It's a simple question."

"It's none of your business," Samuel said softly, crossing his arms over his chest. "I think you should be more concerned about the current whereabouts of your girlfriend." He turned and walked away quickly.

It took Anthony a few seconds before that statement clicked and he looked around the room quickly, searching for Emily's scorching red outfit. He didn't see it and quickly made a round of the downstairs rooms. She was nowhere in sight.

Quietly cursing at letting himself get so distracted, he raced up the stairs. If she wasn't up here, then he would have to check outside.

He heard a muffled sound in the hallway and spied Emily, currently engaged in a passionate kiss with the guy she had been talking to earlier. She held a drink in one hand and the other was on the guy's shoulder, trying to push him away. The guy had one hand high up underneath her skirt and he used to other to push her hand away, pinned her wrist up against the wall.

Emily turned her head away. "Stop," she whined and the guy with her pressed her up more firmly against the wall, sunk his teeth into one of the tendons of her neck. Anthony approached, grabbed the guy by the back of his collar and pulled him away hard. The guy hit the opposite wall and straightened, snarling.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Keeping creeps like you away from my sister," Anthony retorted. "You have about two seconds while I decide whether taking care of her takes higher priority over kicking your ass all over this house."

It was an empty threat, Emily was already sliding down the wall with a glazed look in her eyes and Anthony had his hands full trying to keep her up. The guy, however, apparently didn't feel like pressing his luck and slouched away to find easier prey.

Anthony slid his arms underneath Emily's shoulders and hips, lifted her. "Emily, talk to me."

"'Tony," she wrapped an arm around around his neck. "I don't feel good."

"What happened?"

"He called me a whore," Emily moaned and she dropped her head onto his shoulder. "I'm so sorry," she sobbed.

"Shh. It's okay," Anthony murmured, his standard response whenever he found Emily in a situation where she was in over her head. "Let's get you home."

"That's going to be hard."

Anthony turned and stared at Samuel who was standing at the top of the stairs. "Why is that?"

"Your car is going to be blocked in."

Anthony cursed inwardly when he realized Samuel was right. He had pulled into the driveway without thinking what would happen as other people arrived. Anthony shrugged. "I can call a cab."

Samuel approached them, picked up the cup Emily had been holding from the floor.

"I'll show you a bedroom you can let her rest in." Samuel offered. "You don't need to worry. She's just drunk."

Anthony snorted. "Right. And how would you know?"

"There was Everclear in this cup. I can smell it and I saw a bottle of it in that guy's coat pocket. Also I know that guy. He likes to get underage girls drunk so he can take advantage of them. That's why I told you to go check on her. You should keep a better eye on your bitches."

"She's not a bitch and you watch your mouth," Anthony said, his voice soft and hard.

Samuel shrugged. "Sorry," he said, not sounding the least bit apologetic. "Come on."

Holding Emily in his arms, Anthony followed Samuel down the hall into a small bedroom. Samuel turned on the bedside lamp and pulled a blanket out of the closet as Anthony deftly deposited Emily on the bed. Samuel covered her up and motioned for Anthony to follow him out of the room. Anthony followed him with the notion of standing guard outside the door for most of the night, but Samuel locked the door from the inside and pulled it shut behind them.

"Hey, don't-" Anthony started to protest, but Samuel waved his concerns away.

"Don't worry, she'll be fine. I have a master key that will open any lock in the house. This way, at least, no one can get to her."

"How come you have a master key?"

"It's my house."

Anthony arched an eyebrow. "I thought the witch was throwing the party."

"She is, but she couldn't hold it at her house. Her parents won't let her. I have this house to myself most of the time, so..." Samuel shrugged. "I told her she could have it here. Invite whoever she wanted as long as they didn't trash the place."

"The witch, is she your girlfriend?" Anthony asked.

Samuel shook his head. "No, just a really good friend of mine. Why?"

"Because then I don't feel so bad about doing this," Anthony said and pulled Samuel to him, kissed him. It was a hard kiss, a brutal press of lips against lips. Anthony wrapped an arm around Samuel's waist, pulling him closer to him and the other hand went up the kilt, up his thigh to his hip. His hand encountered cotton cloth as it traveled upwards and Anthony found his question about whether or not Samuel wore anything underneath the kilt answered.

"What a disappointment," Anthony murmured, breaking off the kiss but not releasing Samuel.

"What are you doing?" Samuel exclaimed, trying unsuccessfully to remove himself from Anthony's grip.

"Satisfying my curiosity, since you didn't want to do so for me," Anthony said, feeling strangely aggressive...almost angry. He was angry at always having to watch out for Emily because she was unable to watch out for herself, angry at guys who thought it was okay to take advantage of a girl once she was too drunk to really notice, angry at Samuel, for being compassionate and considerate instead of the self absorbed snob that Anthony was sure he was. Angry at him for being so shy, hesitant and clueless when all Anthony wanted to do was burn off some anxious frustration through him.

"Where is your room?" Anthony asked.

Samuel swallowed nervously, pointed down the hall. Anthony took his hand in a tight grip, pulled him down the hallway, tugged him into the dark room before shutting and locking the door behind him. He reached for Samuel in the dark, pulled him close and kissed him again. He waited rather patiently for Samuel to struggle, resist, maybe even looking forward to it. But Samuel simply opened his mouth under the assault of Anthony's tongue. Anthony could feel him shaking but still responding to his kiss and not saying no. He wasn't saying stop. Anthony would just have to wait, wait for those words, then he would stop. Until then he was determined to taste, touch, feel...to go as far as Samuel would let him.

Anthony kissed him again, bringing a hand up to touch his face, to hold it there gently. Samuel's hand came up tentatively, gripping his belt, holding onto it tightly once his fingers found purchase.

Anthony's eyes could barely make out a bed in the dim glow filtering in through the closed blinds. He took two quick steps forward before Samuel could react, propelling him backwards until his legs hit the edge of the bed, causing him to sit down. Then Anthony was crawling on top of him, pushing him down. There was a soft clink of leather and metal as Anthony unfastened his sword belt and let it fall to the ground.

Anthony reached out and touched Samuels' face, pulled off his glasses and Samuel let him without protest. Samuel was nervous and frightened, tempted to get up and run, but he didn't know if the person on top of him would let him get away. Aside from being frightened, it also felt quite good--what this person was doing to him. He gasped as Anthony's hands slid up inside his shirt, brushed down his chest and stomach before pulling the shirt up and over his head.

Hungry lips came down over Samuel's again, as hands continued to stroke his shoulders, his arms. Then Anthony's fingers were lacing with Samuel's, and his lips were brushing over his jaw, down his neck, his collarbone. He drew his mouth back up his neck, sucking and licking at the sweaty skin, feeling Samuel's fingers clenching slightly under his. Anthony had lost his hat a while ago and he lifted his head to shake his dark hair back from his face before he lowered himself down to Samuel's chest. He let his lips close around one nipple, sucking on it and gently pulling it in between his teeth. Samuel gasped again and thrust his hips up, rolling up against Anthony's stomach. Anthony groaned at the feel of Samuel's erection pressing up against him. He let his lips attack the nipple again, and released one of Samuel's hands to pinch the other one, teasing it with his fingertips, nails, the rough pads of his fingers. Samuel was gasping and moaning, each sound going straight to Anthony's cock. His lips slid down Samuel's body, down his stomach, to the hem of the kilt. The rough material brushed against his lips as he dragged his mouth down the kilt, teasing the erection he could see poking up at the material. He slid his hands up underneath it, over Samuel's thighs, up his hips, hooking his fingers into the waistband of Samuel's briefs and pulling them down to his knees. His fingers stole back under the tartan material, found his erection. He wrapped his hand around it and began jacking him slowly.

Samuel let out a muted moan, thrust his hips up into that hand. "Please," he said, his voice a sensual whisper of sound, his fingers pulling and digging into the comforter of his bed. He felt like he was on fire, burning up from the inside out.

Anthony continued to grip him, strong strokes, urging him forward. Samuel moaned, arched his hips and then he was orgasming, spilling cum over Anthony's hand, crying out. Anthony smirked as he withdrew his hand, cum smeared over his fingers. Samuel's body sank into the mattress, weak and pliant.

The kid had come very fast and easily--definitely virgin material. Anthony's smirk widened. God, he loved virgins.

He moved up, leaned over Samuel, pressed his lips against his until Samuel responded, kissing him back slowly and sleepily. Too bad, Anthony still had plans for him.

"Turn over," Anthony commanded. He punctuated the statement by gently biting down on Samuel's ear, letting the tongue trace the tip of the shell. Samuel complied, turning face down on the bed. Warm hands pulled at his hips, lifting on them, tugging them up and Samuel let them, his mind still pleasantly blank and buzzed with the aftermath of orgasm.

Anthony was impatient and not gentle as he pushed cum slicked fingers against Samuel's tight entrance, pressing until they breached the soft muscle and slid inside.

Samuel was gasping, drawing in short, jerky breaths that were almost sobs. Anthony was twisting and wiggling his fingers inside him and it felt good and not good at the same time. The distinction between pain and pleasure was beginning to blur inside Samuel's mind, so that it was purely nonsensical to imagine one without the other.

Anthony withdrew his fingers and reached into his pocket, pulling out his wallet and searching through it with trembling fingers until he found the condom tucked behind his license. He unbuckled his pants, tore the condom open and slid it over his waiting erection. He took Samuel's remaining cum, added some spit for lubrication and smeared it over his cock before gripping Samuel's hips firmly. He lined himself up and pushed in.

Samuel bit his lip to keep from crying out. He knew what was about to happen and he knew it was going to hurt, but he naively hoped that it would be worth it in the end. He remembered the explosive pleasure he had gotten from Anthony's hand earlier and held that in his mind; let that anchor his rationality through the pain and went against every instinct he felt to relax and allow the person behind him to slide in deeper, deeper still with the sweet absorption of more pain.

Anthony gritted his teeth, the heat clenched around him feeling so good he wanted to scream with it, scream in animalistic pleasure as he banged into the body below him. He wanted to mark it and claim it as his with blood and bruises. It was only his awareness of where he was that kept him quiet; the last thing he wanted was to have someone interrupt this. Instead he leaned over and bit Samuel savagely, his teeth sinking deep into the pale flesh at the base of his neck. Samuel did cry out at that, a startled pained cry that was quickly muffled in a pillow. Anthony released him, then ran his tongue over the spot, feeling the deep indentations his teeth had made with his tongue. His hips thrust in deeper of their own volition and Samuel let out a moan, low and sexy. Christ, he was so fucking sexy!

Anthony pushed in again and again, his movements becoming more and more erratic as he felt his pleasure building, singing, spiraling out of his control. He gathered bunches of Samuel's kilt in his fists, something for him to grab onto so he could just thrust and thrust and thrust...

Samuel braced one arm firmly on the bed and brought his other hand down to touch his weeping erection. It was so stiff and hard that it hurt but that was okay because pain and pleasure belonged together right now. He wrapped his fingers around it and began stroking, hard and fast. The tension and the pleasure and the rough scrape of cock inside him was driving him crazy. It was too much piled up on top of each other, more and more; closer and closer and if he didn't find release soon it would be too late--he would be lost. Samuel sobbed, quickening his strokes. He wanted to bring himself to that edge, that precipice; to bring an end to it all, bring on the force of orgasm that would wipe it all out, leaving nothing behind.

Finally Anthony hit something inside him, something that brought sharp pleasure cutting deep into his body and Samuel was cumming hard, grimacing, sweat dripping down his face and back. The pleasure was hitting him too hard, making it hurt, making his toes curl and his heart stop and his mind scream.

Anthony thrust hard several times, burying himself deep into Samuel's heat as he came, riding hard on the sweet edge of his orgasm. He stayed motionless for several seconds as his cock continued to contract and leak cum. He pulled out once he began to soften and climbed off the bed, pulling off the condom and tossing it aside.

Samuel closed his eyes, his mind quieting in the stillness following the onslaught. He pulled himself forward and slowly lowered himself onto the bed, collapsing on his side with a muffled grunt.

Probably sore, Anthony thought. He hadn't really tried to be gentle. Feeling a slight tug of conscience, he approached Samuel's limp form.

"You okay?"

Samuel nodded, his back turned to Anthony so that Anthony couldn't see his face. Anthony couldn't blame him. If their positions had been switched, Anthony wouldn't have wanted to look at him either. He wouldn't be willing to face the person who had just stolen his virginity in such a crude manner.

Anthony pulled the sheets and comforter up over Samuel's body, then adjusted his own clothing and left the room. He repeated the same trick that Samuel had used on the door of the room they had left Emily in, locking it from the inside and pulling it shut.

He walked down the hallway until he found the room that Emily had been left in. He tested the door to make sure it was still safely locked, then sat down in front of it.

He leaned his head back, ready for a long wait, and replayed that encounter in his head. He felt guilty. Samuel hadn't protested, had not told him to stop or to leave him alone; it was something he was always vigilant about listening for. No, Samuel hadn't protested, but still...did he care if Samuel enjoyed the experience? Not really. He had tried to make sure he orgasmed at least, just to make things easier for himself, but in the end, it hadn't really mattered. He had just wanted to burn off his anger, his frustration and all he wanted was a partner to do that with...male or female, it didn't even matter and Samuel was the most convenient target.

He thumped the back of his head lightly against the door. He had made a mistake this time. There was no reason for him to do what he did to Samuel. The boy barely knew him and he was pretty sure that he had been the boy's first. He had taken a special experience and turned it into an unsophisticated, fumbling encounter in a dark bedroom.

And what are you going to do about it? he asked himself. It was done now, over and there was nothing he could do to go back and change it. Samuel would wake up, sore and resentful, probably angry at his unknown lover and Anthony would be back at home, living his life while trying to keep his sister safe from herself. He sighed.

Oh well. Life would go on.