The Carnivore [boyxboy]

Chapter 4

Rory huddled over his watercolor painting, trying to keep to his corner of the room. His art class had other ideas, running around the tables and talking loudly. Anyone that came within three feet got a death glare and was threatened with wet paint on their clothes. 

He had already moved onto a different watercolor painting, being a fast worker. Another virus, much to creeping some other people out. 

The art teacher stopped by and commented that it was a nice idea, but that he should be working on the actual assignment given. Rory grumbled he would but didn't make any moves to do so. He thought it looked cool. 

He went back to trying to ignore the rest of his drawing class, filled with people who just wanted an easy art credit. Rory painted on, stopping occasionally to try and flatten the paper as it became wavy form absorbing too much water. Stupid thing. 

"Rory," someone called out from across the class. 

Rory stiffened, immediately pin pointing the voice. Maybe if he just ignored him, he would go away. 

"Did you hear me?" Deacon asked, this time stepping closer. "Hey, where's the teacher?" 

Rory searched for the woman in the crowd of the class, but she was no where in sight. 

"Do you know if she has any colored pencils? My history teacher wants to borrow them," Deacon explained, this time hovering over Rory's shoulder. 

Rory leaned forward on his stool, trying to increase the space between him and Deacon. Rory contemplated his paintbrush—while the wooden part ended in a point, it was too dull to do any good damage. So he figured. Maybe if he had enough force...

"And you tell me you're not a germaphobe?" Deacon joked, pointing down at the painting. 

"If I was afraid of germs, I wouldn't be painting it, now would I?" Rory snapped over his shoulder, looking up for a teacher. He noticed a few girls making eyes at Deacon before locating the teacher. "There," he pointed with his paintbrush. 

"Yup, I see her. So this is watercolor?" Deacon asked, reaching out to touch the painting and earning a slap on the hand from Rory. Deacon just laughed it off. "Sorry. It's cool, though. I suck at art." 

"What about your colored pencils?" Rory reminded him harshly. 

"Right," Deacon backed off. "Well I'm still taking you and Kristen home after school... change there, then go to the pool. Okay?"

Right. Pool. The wooden tables were looking extremely tempting to Rory's forehead. "Yeah," he grumbled.

Deacon wove his way around the tables, asking the teacher for colored pencils. Rory's eyes followed him all the way across the room to where the colored pencils were held, and then Deacon left. 

Rory relaxed, only to realize there was a girl looking at him expectantly. "You know him?" she asked, surprised. Because Deacon totally talked to little scrawny freshman that sat in corners glaring at people, instead of girls. 

"He's dating my sister," Rory mumbled sourly. 

"Oh," she was obviously disappointed, and having lost her interest in Rory, went back to chatting with her friends. 

Rory worked through the rest of the class, and cleaned up in the last few minutes. He noticed a few kids around the class using their iPods as defense against the noise, and Rory figured he should probably find out where his was. He had gotten an iPod two years prior for his birthday but never used it. Art class seemed like a good time. 

Once the bell rang, he went to his last class for the day. That was the last class before going to the pool with Deacon. And Deacon's mostly naked body. And germs. Rory tried to distract himself with the thought of germs instead of the first option. 

He was just glad that Deacon wasn't outside his class at the end of the day. Rory walked to his sister's class, where Deacon was liberally showing his affection. Rory averted his eyes again, very interested in the tile floor patterns.

Four small blue squares, one big tan square, small white square, four small blue squares, one big tan square...

"Rory, are you ready to go?" Kristen's voice chimed in impatiently. 

"Yeah," Rory grumbled and followed the couple outside. They got into Deacon's car and headed towards the house. 

Deacon asked to change in the lower bathroom and disappeared. Rory climbed up into his room, where his mother had set out his swim trunks on his dresser. They were a solid light blue color, and reached about mid-thigh. No way was Rory wearing anything like a Speedo. At least trunks were loose and forgiving should anything... happen.

Rory scowled and changed into the trunks, leaving his t-shirt on. He pulled on a sweatshirt, trying not to feel awkward. He was so used to pants it wasn't even funny. His legs... just felt weird, being bare. 

He grabbed a towel out of the linen closet for show, but was hoping that he wouldn't be needing it. Maybe he could just avoid the water. Still he grabbed a change of clothes for after. He put his shoes and socks on at the door, waiting for Deacon still. 

Deacon came out of the lower bathroom finally, walking stiffly while trying to adjust something, with an unsubtle hand down the pants. Rory looked away with a roll of the eyes, while Kristen seemed to appear out of no where to say good-bye. 

That took about another ten minutes. Kristen had had boyfriends before, but none that she was all over like she was with Deacon. She liked him just that much, apparently. Rory ground his teeth angrily as he waited. 

Deacon was smirking on his way out, pulling on his on sweatshirt and unlocking his car. "Do you have a Rec Center membership card?" Deacon asked. 

"No," Rory snapped. 

"Oh," Deacon paused, thinking. "Well that makes things a little difficult, since you need your parent... ah, whatever. I'll figure it out." He waved it off and started the car, and they were on their way. 


Rory noticed that thankfully, the car was a bit more clean than usual. He could see the entire floor mat under his feet, granted there was a soda stain on it. He slid his feet away from said stain, trying not to look at it. 

"Can you swim at all?" Deacon asked as they pulled into the parking lot. 

"Yeah," Rory answered. He had taken swimming lessons when he was younger, and while it had been a while, he probably knew more than Deacon thought. Maybe he could use that to impress—or drown him. Yes, drown him.

Deacon made his way to the counter, flirting with the female attendant there. "He's my little brother," Deacon said, pointing to Rory. "Lost his card."

"Well we could make him a new one," she smiled warmly. 

"Ah, no. It's fine. Just charge me twice, okay? It's easier. He doesn't come that often anyways, and he'll just lose it again," Deacon smiled widely. 

Rory would so not lose a card! He seethed quietly, trying not to speak up as Deacon got them in. They went back towards the men’s locker room, and Rory wanted to die. 

He was so not talking off his shoes. No way in hell. He pulled off his sweatshirt and t-shirt, stuffing them into a shared shoe locker with Deacon. Deacon sat on a ledge and started to take off his shoes. 

Rory's eyes focused on the sleek muscles of Deacon's upper body, and his well... nipples. And that Speedo—Rory felt his mouth go dry at the bulge. There was a fading bruise on Deacon's hip and on his shoulder. Rory fidgeted and looked away, finding the stained grout between the tiles very interesting. 

"Shoes?" Deacon asked, shoving his into the locker. 

"Funny." Rory snorted. 

"No, seriously, you can't go into the pool with your shoes on," Deacon stressed. 

"Do you know how much bacteria can grow on wet floors?" Rory retorted. 

"And I thought you weren't a germaphobe?" Deacon teased. 

Rory sucked in a deep breath. He would not give in. This was keeping him out of the pool. And... "Fine," he snarled after a stare down with Deacon. Rory slowly took off his shoes, trying to touch the floor as little as possible. He stood on his toes and placed his shoes and socks into the locker. 

Deacon just laughed, grabbed his towel, and went through the doors for the pool. Rory tried to walk on his toes, but didn't trust the slippery floors. Finally he settled for walking normally, though quickly. 

Deacon was already on the opposite edge of the pool. There was an elderly person and two kids in the shallow end. Everyone else was at the park part of the pool in a different section of the building. 

Rory made his way over to where Deacon was and put his towel on some bleachers. He then sat on the bleachers. 

"Seriously?" Deacon groaned. "Come on." 

"No," Rory protested. "Germs aside... little kids in a pool?" he pointed to the offending kids. "They do things in the water. No." 

"And they'll make a scene about it, and you'll know. And they clean the pool. That's what chlorine is for. Don't make me put you in there," Deacon warned. 

"No," Rory repeated. 

Deacon sighed. He grabbed Rory by the wrist and yanked him off the bleachers. Deacon hoisted Rory up into his arms and headed for the pool. 

"Deacon I swear to God you better not—"

Deacon tossed Rory into the pool in the ten-foot section. Rory went under, popping back up a second later. "You fucking asshole!" He screamed, voice echoing off the walls. 

"Don't swear in front of the children," Deacon sang and slipped into the water. "But you can swim!"

"I told you I could," Rory spat, heading for the ledge. 

"Christ, Rory. You're already in the water. There's nothing you can do," Deacon said and ducked under the water. 

Rory tried to get out before the water-obscured form reached him, but Deacon grabbed his ankle and pulled him under. Rory surfaced again, coughing slightly on water. "Ass," he complained again. 

"I didn't know you had such a mouth," Deacon smirked and swam away on an easy backstroke. 

"I don't!" Rory ground out. He swore he could feel every particle in the water. At least the it blurred the sight of Deacon from chest down. Not that Rory was trying to look there. 

While Rory refused to join any sort of sport, Deacon still made him practice swimming strokes. Rory pretended to take a while, hoping to waste time. Deacon gave praise every time Rory did something well. 

He wouldn't say he had done most of this. 

They worked on that until Rory started complaining, and Deacon decided a dunking game would be a good idea. Rory hit him after the first time, though. "Don't do that!" he huffed, blowing water out of his nose. "I hate that." 

Deacon laughed and gave up, pulling himself out of the pool. Rory eagerly followed, ready to be out of the water. He had gotten used to it, and it felt slightly good, but he wouldn't admit it. 

They went back to the locker room, and Deacon stripped for the showers. Rory swallowed hard and looked away at the flash he had gotten. 

The pool had so not been a good idea after all. Deacon stepped into the showers, and Rory felt weird all over again. Soon he had a semi-erection under his loose trunks. He stripped and dove for the shower himself, tossing his towel over the shower rod. He set the water on cold and was able to get it to go away for the most part. 

He dried off with the towel as other people entered the locker room. Rory shoved the shower curtain aside, only to get another eyeful of Deacon as he pulled on boxers. Rory could only stare for those last few seconds, and... Deacon looked up. 

Rory glared and went for his clothes. He faced away while trying to dress, hiding the semi that had come back. He pulled on clothes that felt warm against chilled skin, pants and a t-shirt. He added the sweatshirt on for measure as Deacon waited. 

They left the rec center close to five, and Rory was silent the whole drive back. Granted, Deacon didn't speak much either. Back at the house, Rory went upstairs as Deacon got his welcome back from Kristen. Lots of giggling was heard on the way up, until Rory closed his bedroom door. 

His mother came home and fixed dinner. Rory pushed things around on his plate, eating occasionally. Deacon and Kristen chatted over the table, both looking forward to the party. 

Rory disappeared after dinner again, holing up in his room. Like hell he was going to spend any time with Deacon now. Looking at Deacon did strange things. He curled up on his bed, trying to think of anything other than what he had seen in the locker room. 

Eventually he moved on to his computer, planning to stay up late on a Friday night. Deacon and Kristen finally left for their party, leaving his mother to nag. 

"Don't be on any later than eleven," she warned. 

"Alright."

"Let me know if you hear Kristen come home after one," she added. "She's supposed to be home at one."

"Alright," Rory added.

"Eleven," she stressed again. 

"Alright!" Rory snapped. 

His mother left down the hall, getting ready for bed herself. Rory stayed up later than eleven, despite her warnings. He was showered and in bed shortly before one. He heard Kristen come home on time, sneaking up the stairs. 

She giggled. So did Deacon. 

Rory turned over in his bed, groaning. Deacon probably wasn't supposed to be over... in fact, it wasn't even probably. Deacon shouldn't be over so late. Rory ignored it though, trying to sleep. 

He started to drift off an hour or so later, staring at the wall.

His door creaked open, and Rory was awake in an instant. 

"Rory?" Deacon whispered into the room. 

Rory held still, his back to the door and to Deacon. Feign sleep. Why was he in Rory's room, anyways? He heard the door close, but then the shuffle of feet. The bed sunk behind Rory, and he struggled to ignore it. 


The arm sliding around his middle was hard to ignore, though. Rory let out a small squeak of surprise when Deacon pulled him closer. Deacon wrapped his legs around Rory's from behind. 

"Are you awake now?" Deacon breathed into Rory's ear. 

Rory squirmed, trying to twist his legs out of Deacon's. The hold on his legs only tightened, and Deacon's hand slid up under his shirt. 

"Deacon—" Rory stopped with a gasp as strong fingers twisted and pulled at his nipple. Rory whimpered and jerked at the touch as he was rolled backwards to lay on top of Deacon. Both of his hands slid up over Rory's ribs, stopping to tug on his nipples again. 

Rory bit his lip, trying to keep quite. He felt himself hardening in his pants, and Deacon's already full erection pressed into his backside. Each roll and pinch of his nipples sent a zing of pleasure up his erection. A muffled moan escaped his pressed lips.

Deacon chuckled and slid out from under Rory. He straddled the younger boy's thighs, and pulled off Rory's shirt. 

Rory's nipples were painfully stiff from Deacon's play, feeling sensitive against the air. Deacon shucked his own shirt and lowered his face into Rory's chest. His mouth locked over a taut nipple as one of his hands strayed lower. 

Deacon sucked and nipped, making Rory writher and moan. He kissed across Rory's chest, taking the other nipple up into his mouth. 

Rory swore and fisted the sheets when knuckles grazed over his erection. Those knuckles began to rub up and down his shaft, working up towards the head and scraping against the glans. 

"Deacon," he pleaded. 

He felt lips smile against his skin, and that hand wrapped around his erection. Rory shuddered and bucked up into the touch. 

Deacon's hand pumped the shaft, his grip firm. Rory swore, pushing his hips up for more. 

Deacon stopped and sat up. Rory let out a noise of frustration, opening his eyes to glare. Deacon grabbed the waistband of Rory's underwear and pants, yanking them down to his knees and then completely off. He did the same for himself, stripping of his pants and boxers. 

He straddled Rory's thighs again, lowering himself down. Deacon ground his erection against Rory's. 

Rory bucked up into the feel of hot flesh against his own and grabbed onto Deacon's shoulders. Deacon ducked his head down, claiming Rory's mouth. Rory groaned into the kiss, widening his legs. 

Deacon humped and ground into Rory, using his knees on the bed for leverage. He slipped a hand between their bodies and wrapped it around both shafts. Deacon rubbed the shafts and heads together, smearing pre-cum with his thumb. His hips kept moving, rutting into Rory's body. 

Rory's hands shook as he held onto Deacon's shoulders, and he dug his nails into the flesh. Deacon groaned and buried his face in Rory's shoulder. He scraped his teeth over the pale skin, leaving marks. 

The feel sent more of those shocks down Rory's body, making him stiffen. Deacon pulled his face up, meeting Rory's eyes. 

Rory struggled to keep his eyes open as he climbed towards his peak. He let out a strangled cry, arching against Deacon and spilling his seed. 

"****," Deacon snarled, hand coated with Rory's fluids as he worked to finish himself off. "Rory, look at me," he demanded. 

Rory forced his eyes open, meeting Deacon's intense gaze. Deacon grunted and jerked, spilling his mark onto Rory's belly. Deacon collapsed on top of the other boy, both breathing heavy. 

Rory felt the sticky mess cooling between their skin, but was too out of it to care. Deacon rolled off onto his back, leaving his arm touching Rory. 

Neither of them moved for a while, and Rory's head started to sort out. What the hell just happened? Before Rory could ask any more questions, Deacon was sliding out of bed. "Stay here," he said quietly. "I'll be right back." 

He dashed out of the room, still naked, and slipped back in a minute later. He ran a wet wash cloth over Rory's belly and groin, before doing the same to himself. 

"Deacon..." Rory covered himself with the covers, suddenly feeling horrible. 

"I was starting to think you really didn't like me," Deacon smiled crookedly. "That you actually hated me. But I saw you watching in the locker room, and I know you got hard."

Rory flushed with embarrassment that Deacon had seen. 

Deacon redressed and leaned over to Rory. He pressed a last kiss on Rory's lips. "Night, Rory," he whispered with a smile before sneaking back out of the room. 

Rory stared at the door in mute horror. What had just happened?