A Very Merry Unbirthday

I sat on the bleachers, in a slight wind, completely bored. Why did I come to the football game? Simple, extra credit in gym class. The school is in desperate need of money, and no one really goes to the football games, so in a way to boost morale and the cash in the ticket box, the gym teacher offered to raise grades a whole letter. However, it's only halfway through the first quarter and I'm already dyeing. I would've left already, but if you leave your name gets taken off the list. So, here I am stuck. It was during a timeout that I saw him. Not that I hadn't ever seen him before, but it was the first time I'd really looked at him.
He rushes around the hallways as a black blur, trying his hardest to be ignored, and succeeding quite well. Everyone knew he just wanted to be left alone, and they generally agreed to that. I suppose it's not that surprising that he was here. I knew well, better than basically everyone else here, that he was an amazing artist. And, art kids and gym just don't mix. I had a feeling he was quite insecure as well, he seemed shy, and secluded, most probable was that he was uncomfortable with his weight. But, honestly, he was in nice shape. Not good, but he looked even, not fake and plastic, just real.
He was sitting in a top corner of the bleachers, with no one around. His black jean collar was flipped up against the wind, and his dyed raven locks blew across his face. He was hunched over his lap, a pale hand clutching something and gliding across a sketchpad. He glanced up for a moment, his hazel eyes burning through his hair, then back down to his sketchpad. A strong gust of wind blew, and he hunched over more. When he stood, placing his things in a book bag, and began climbing down toward the restrooms, I made a decision. One that probably wasn't a good one, but I was going to attempt anyway. He came back quickly, eyes toward the ground, and I stood, walking in his directions. It was then that I saw something fall from his bag. And I knew exactly how I was going to execute my plan. It was extremely cliché, I knew, but may be worth it. I picked up the pencil case, and began walking to where he sat, lower now.
I would walk over, and offer him back his pencil case, asking- although I already knew- why he had it. We would engage in witty conversation, and I would withdraw him from his shell. We would become close, then maybe date, and end up happy together… Or, maybe I just read too much.

"Excuse me, Gerard?" I asked. His eyes snapped and locked onto mine, and he reddened slightly.

"Yes?" He replied, studying me.

"I'm Amanda, but you can call me Mandy." His eyes landed on my hand with the case, and he smiled slightly.

"These are yours aren't they? What are they?" I asked, smiling, and sitting innocently next to him. He stared at me hesitantly, then took the case and smiled back.

"They're charcoal pencils, and some colored pencils. Purples, blues, and reds mainly. You use them for shading, and the charcoal for actual drawing. It makes this cool, like, smeary effect, and makes your pictures stand out, especially because you can emphasis different points, shapes, or lines. Does that make sense?" I smiled widely.

It was clear he loved his art, and was passionate about it. The whistle for the game to resume rang, and he glanced up, mid-sentence, to blush and smile sheepishly at me.

"I'm sorry, do you want to watch the game? I can stop talking now." He said, glancing at me. I shook my head.

"Not really, this game is extremely boring. Besides, you seem really passionate about art… and your pencils." I giggled, and he chuckled back, then muttered something about 'passion and bigger pencils' or something.

"What?" I asked, and he blushed fiercely, then shook his head.

I eyed him for a minute, and he smirked at me. My heart about dropped into my stomach and stopped right there. I thought I'd died and gone to heaven… although, with the twinkling mischievous look in his eyes maybe it was hell. He leaned over closer to me, and I could feel his breath on my ear, making me shiver more than the wind ever had.

"I said, I know something that I do with more passion and a much bigger, special pencil." His voice was sly and smooth, and unlike his behavior, but so alike him. And, it didn't take a genius to hear the sexual innuendo in the sentence. You could feel the sex it. I stared, incredulous and impressed- but mostly excited-, at him for a moment, and he cleared his throat.

"Uh, um, I'm really, really sorry if that was to forward… I, err, I don't normally say stuff like that…" He looked into my eyes nervously, and I realized my lack of an answer was worrying him.

"Huh? Oh, me? No, it's fine, I'm just trying to regulate my breathing pattern is all." I replied sarcastically, and truthfully.

He smirked again, and I smirked back. He took my hand, and stood, grabbing his bag. At this moment I was really prepared to follow him anywhere. However, under the visitor's side bleachers weren't really what I was prepared for. I glanced over at him with raised eyebrows, but he just kept a firm grip on my hand, and snuck us under. Before I had the chance to ask what he was doing, he was standing directly in front of me, his lips mere centimeters away from mine.

"Can I?" Gerard asked softly. I nodded, and he pressed his lips caringly to mine.

His tongue ran gracefully inside my mouth, pressing against mine, and I wrapped my arms around his neck. His hands were at my waist in seconds, and the tips of his fingers ran under my shirt, rubbing my back and hips. My fingers tangled in his hair, and he pulled me closer, our lips and tongues still pressed together. I only understood what was really happening when he slowly began to raise my shirt up my back. When it got to my shoulders, he froze, waiting for what I would do. I just pulled away, yanked out my arms, and slid off his jacket. He smiled quickly, ogling me, then took off his own shirt. I gasped inwardly, my hand acting out of its own accord and reaching out and touching his stomach. He blushed, and looked away, crossing his arms low over his belly button self-consciously. I swatted them away gently, and ran my hands up his chest, splaying them by his collar bone and meeting his eyes.

"You're so pale. And your skin is so smooth…" I trailed off absentmindedly.

He chuckled and his blushed cleared a bit. His twinkling eyes met mine, and I began to unbutton my pants, sliding them off, along with my underwear. His breath caught in his throat, and a large bulge grew quickly in his pants. I unhooked my bra, letting it fall to the grass, and stepped forward, undoing his belt, and removing his pants. He kicked them off, then shimmied out of his boxers, revealing his erection. A gust off wind blew, and his cock twitched, and my nipples hardened. Both of us noticed, and chuckled slightly. Then, he lunged at me.
He bit my neck gently, sucking on the skin, and I tilted my head back. His lips never disconnecting from my neck, he placed a hand on my lower back, and lowered us down. I hit the ground with a soft thud, and wrapped my arms around his shoulders. He looked at me with wide eyes for a minute, and moved back. I propped myself up on my elbows and looked at him.

"Do you have a condom? I don't." I laughed lightly at his concern and rolled over, crawling to my purse.

I open the zipper pouch and flicked through the three different sizes. I glanced over my shoulder once before picking one and tossing it over to him. He tore it open and slid it on, and I laid on my back, and slid between his knees again.

"Where were we?" I grinned cheekily and kissed him once more before he slid in.

He waited a moment before pulling back slightly, and entering further in. He repeated the process several times before kissing my shoulder and slamming in to the hilt. I gasped loudly as he grunted slightly, and began thrusting. I was writhing underneath him soon, gasping and moaning, while he swore through gritted teeth and muttered my name. He orgasmed soon, shooting into me forcefully, setting off a chain reaction in me, to the point where I was ripping up grass and bucking my hips. He collapsed lightly on top of me, and I wrapped my arms around him. A loud blowhorn buzzer made us both jump. The game was going into overtime. Gerard smirked and raised and eyebrow.

"Round two?" He asked, pressing his lips to mine.