You Don't Know Until You Try
Jack and friend. PG13. 820 words.
Spoilers: Season Seven
You Don't Know Until You Try
Jack was bored. And stupid. He never would have said to himself, hey, Jack, you didn't enjoy being tortured and killed but I bet if you try it again, you'll enjoy it this time around. So why had he thought high school would be any different?
And why had he come to this goddamned party? It wasn't the conversation. It sure as hell wasn't the music. And, sad to say, it wasn't the girls.
It must have been the hormones that talked his brain into this whole bad idea in the first place. But as appealing as macking on sweet young things had seemed to his gonads, when it came to crunch time, he could barely get his tongue into a girl's mouth before his brain screamed "Jailbait!" and killed the mood.
So, the girls would go off with other boys who certainly didn't have the least idea how to treat a woman and Jack would go home to engage in the national pastime of all fifteen year old boys.
Jack was sure he'd never beaten off this much the *last* time he was a teenager.
At least at the party, there was beer. And that was why he had shown up. Of course, it was the horrible cheap beer you get when you're in high school, so that you can get the most drunk for the least money. But it was better than nothing. Maybe he could take a case home with him.
Jack sat by himself on the couch and drank. Twenty minutes, that's about all he could stand, and then he was out of here. With the beer.
Someone sat down beside him. It was Justin. Justin was the school's Official Gay Boy. Jack knew that, statistically, there had to be more gay boys in the school than just Justin, but Justin was Out. And more than that, Justin was In. He was one of those annoying people with so much natural charisma that you can't hate them, no matter how hard you grit your teeth and try. All the cheerleaders looooooved Justin and since the jocks looooooved to fuck the cheerleaders, the jocks left Justin alone and when they wanted to beat someone up and call him faggot, they picked on the pudgy, bespectacled Dungeons and Dragons-playing nerds, who were probably all straight. "Hey," Justin said.
"Hey," Jack said. "Good party."
Justin laughed. "You're kidding, right?"
Jack shrugged. "There's beer."
"I'm going out to smoke a joint. Come on, I'll share."
Why not? "I wasn't going to run for public office anyhow," Jack said and Justin laughed. They went out into the back yard and sat on a child-sized pink plastic inflatable sofa that was in the middle of the lawn. Justin lit up and they passed the joint back and forth.
"Why do you come to these parties, anyway?" Justin said. "You don't enjoy them, do you?"
"Nothing better to do." It had been a long time since Jack had indulged in this particular vice and either he'd forgotten what it felt like or marijuana had gotten much, much better in the intervening decades. "This is good stuff," he said and there was something furry inside of him, tickling the underside of his skin. And his brain. "Good stuff," he said again and laughed.
"Only the best for me," Justin said and he laughed too and they slid off of the pink plastic inflatable sofa onto the grass. It was damp but Jack didn't really care. "I like you, Jack," Justin said.
That Justin was really a stand-up guy, Jack thought. "I like you too," he said and slung his arm around Justin's shoulders.
Justin passed the joint over. "I'm *hitting* on you, Jack."
"What the fuck?" Jack said and laughed some more. A guy was hitting on him! Jeez!
"I'm going to kiss you," Justin said and his face got a lot closer to Jack's all of a sudden.
"I could kill you with my bare hands," Jack said but he didn't really mean it. And he was supposed to be doing all the stuff he never did before, right? And he liked kissing girls, so maybe this would be the same, sort of, just with a guy. It was hard to focus his eyes on Justin's face, it was so close. "All right," Jack said. "Take your best shot."
Justin closed the distance and Jack got his mojo on and went for it: open-mouthed deep kissing, with tongue and spit and a little pressure with the teeth, just how he always liked it.
It was completely disgusting.
"Jesus," Jack said and stood up. Justin laughed some more. "Jesus."
"Come back here, you fucking cocktease," Justin said.
"Thanks for the weed," Jack said and looped his way back into the house to find his jacket.
Damn, he had to get home. And then order a pizza.