Forget Me

Chapter Twelve

Korn hated Mew.

When he suggested he get himself off, Korn had thought he was joking. He hadn't been joking. He looked like he was trying very hard not to take a leaf from one of the printouts. Mew probably wanted to do a lot more than caress him to within an inch of his orgasm.

Korn had to walk home with a hard-on. It didn't matter what he thought about in an attempt to cool down his ardour. Everything led back to Mew. Korn knew he could easily have helped him get him off. Instead, Mew left him hanging and hurting. It seemed perfectly reasonable to demand Mew finish what he started. Except there was no way to say that without sounding completely unreasonable.

After all, just before he'd sent him off he'd whispered, "Just imagine it's my hand on you when you jerk off."

~

If that wasn't designed to make it impossible to think of anything else, he didn't know what was.

Until he got home...and found his mother and sister chatting in the kitchen as they got dinner ready. His father stepped in moments after him and any excuse he could have come up with for rushing to his room was put on pause.

Korn tried to be civil over dinner but he was too preoccupied. But with his plans on hold, he was forced to think about it a lot more. Think about his body's reaction to Mew. Think about what they could have done; what they might be able to do in the future. He wasn't ready for what he'd read on those computer printouts. It didn't even matter which side of that arrangement he ended up on. His body was begging for completion, for sweet, ecstatic release. But there was still an avenue of plausible deniability left to him.

If he didn't do anything—if he didn't act on his desires—then maybe he could pretend...

He feared that ship had sailed the minute Mew put his lips on his. Yet looking around the dinner table, he didn't think his family could deal with the reality of what he had found out. This wasn't something that would just go away on its own but it wasn't the kind of thing he ever wanted to talk about. Not even with his sister.

He knew he would figure it out. He had to.

The boundaries were getting clearer.

There was a conspiracy to keep him from the privacy he needed to gather his thoughts. His family chose this, of all nights to stay up later than usual and talk.

His school work came up more than once but he was happy with his performance and so were his parents. P'Kavitra still made a snarky comment about his brainpower but he answered her very eloquently; he stuck his tongue out at her. He was practising for the interschool league and his father was happy he had made the starting line for both the basketball and football teams.

He was doing fine with his classwork and assignments, enough that his teachers were no longer riding him to pull up his socks. Basically, nobody was paying close attention to him because he was in the sweet spot. He was no longer trailing at the bottom end of the class rankings but he wasn't so good that people questioned how and why he was able to do it.

Korn had the perfect balance of grades and extracurricular activity that satisfied everyone without exciting their expectation. Finally, he wasn't getting into any trouble and for once, the rumour mill had nothing to report on his misconduct or his misdeeds. If nobody cared about the everyday stuff, nobody would be looking to him for something unusual. Most definitely not the nature of the relationship he had with Mew.

Everything seemed to be going well. So why did it feel like the universe was trying to kill him? He could not be good company at the dinner table. Every word was a trigger. He cut off innocent sentences so his mind had a spliced and stitched mantra of, "Imagine...my hands...on you!"