John frowned slightly, glancing around the parking lot. He was almost positive he'd seen her car parked here this afternoon after lunch. She couldn't have moved it after lunch hour. He'd taken some time to come out here, not sure how long she'd take to get to her car after the final bell rang. He didn't want to appear too anxious. Any guy in his right mind would be very anxious to spend a few hours alone with the likes of Claire Standish. Despite what most everyone at Shermer High thought, John Bender's mind was very right.

Had he taken too long?

Had he gotten their plans confused?

He didn't think so. He was pretty positive she'd said he could come home with her after school on Monday. He'd looked forward to it the rest of the weekend. While his parents were drinking his dad's paycheck away, watching Leave It To Beaver reruns (oh the irony!), and arguing over whatever little thing they could find to argue over he'd counted the hours until school for the first time in years.

John Bender didn't look forward to school beyond it being a means to an end of getting out of his house and away from his parents eight hours a day.

Until today.

Now, though, he was confused.

Had she blown him off?

Had something happened that she had to leave early?

He scanned the parking lot one last time, ensuring he hadn't missed her car somehow.

He thought on her as he walked home. He'd seen her in the morning by his locker. She had a class in that direction he guessed because she didn't stop to talk to him or anything. He would've talked to her if she had. His friend Amber had been talking his ear off about the fight she had with her mother over the weekend. He would've loved to compare fights with parents' stories with her, but he refrained from going there. So, Claire interrupting wouldn't have been a hardship by any means. He hadn't seen her the rest of the day, though. She hadn't put a note in his locker or anything because he'd gone back inside to check and see if he'd missed one telling him she had to leave or something.

He came home to an empty house, which usually was his favorite part of his day. Home from school and no parents around so he was free to do as he pleased for a little while without worrying. For a couple hours he'd have some peace and quiet. It wouldn't last long though. Soon his parents would be home and then his nightly hell would carry on from the night before and the night before that.

It'd been going on so long now he couldn't even remember when it had started or what it was like to be normal. He spent the first ten or fifteen minutes doing what he usually did every afternoon. He picked up the empty beer cans from the living room and emptied the ashtrays into the kitchen trash. He loaded the few dishes into the dishwasher, too. There were never a lot of dishes because TV dinners didn't require one to use a plate. If he didn't do these things, even though he wasn't the one responsible for the mess, he'd suffer for it.

That done, he headed to his bedroom and the phone there. He didn't have his own line or anything like she did. In fact the only reason he had a phone in his bedroom was because his mother got sick of him talking over her attempts at watching television. If she blew him off, well, he'd look like an idiot for calling her he supposed. If something had happened, though, he kind of wanted to know.

He folded the piece of paper she'd written her number on for him on Saturday, putting it back in his wallet without dialing. He wasn't going to call her. Yeah, okay, he'd like to know if something happened and yet what business of his was it if something did? Clearly, she didn't want him to know what was going on.

It ate at him throughout the evening, though, disrupting his sleep a bit. He wasn't used to worrying about anyone but himself. It was an odd thing to be concerned for someone else. He found her locker the next morning, making himself look busy until she got there. Funny that he was there before her today, usually he was as close to being late as he could get.

"So, who died?" he asked.

"What?" she asked with a frown.

"We had plans yesterday; at least I thought we did."

"I thought we did, too," she said.

She did? What the fuck was that supposed to mean? She wasn't in the parking lot; he knew that for a fact.

"I went to the parking lot, your car was gone. I wasn't that late."

"No, you weren't."

"All right," he said, watching her closely for some sign of what was going on with her. Was he supposed to know what she was saying?

"If you're going to stand here talking to me, do you mind covering that up?"

"Covering what up?"

She sighed, rolling her eyes as if he was really bothering her. "You have a hickey. It's embarrassing."

"Yeah. So?" he asked with a frown. He'd actually gone out of his way to wear a shirt yesterday and today that showed it. She'd left it kind of low on his neck. His flannel shirts covered it so he'd gone without one. "It's a hickey. It's not leprosy or something so it's not contagious."

"I wouldn't know," she said, getting some books from her locker.

"Well, no, I didn't think you would never having had one or anything."

"I have to get to class."

"So, no explanation? You break plans with other people I bet they get a reason."

"You want a reason?" She slammed her locker door shut, wincing slightly as she realized apparently she'd drawn more attention to them with the loud noise.

"Yes, I think I deserve that much."

"Deserve it?"

"Well, yeah. You don't think I do?"

"You know what my explanation is."

He frowned. Was he supposed to understand her? Know what she was talking about? Had he done anything between the time they left school on Saturday and yesterday afternoon? Not that he knew of.

"Well, clearly I don't, Princess, or I wouldn't be standing here asking for one. I mean, if you changed your mind, fine. At least be big enough to say so, don't just blow me off."

"Changed my mind?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, you're here today so no one died. You appear healthy so you're not sick or anything. So, clearly that means you changed your mind. I just don't appreciate being treated like garbage. I'm not something you can just cast off, you know? Of all people I thought would do better than that it was you."

She dropped her books to her side, gripping them with one hand while she poked him in the chest.

"Do better? How dare you? You left from being with me on Saturday. You sleep with someone else because you're apparently incapable of keeping it in your pants for more than twenty-four hours and you think I'm the one treating you like garbage?"

"I'm sorry, I did what?"

"Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about."

"I haven't a clue, Princess."

"Stop calling me that! I'm not your princess."

"That's not what you said Saturday."

"Yeah, well, evidently you changed your mind and so have I."

"I didn't change my mind about anything. I'm standing here at your locker, knowing the likes of Tom Pierce and Chad Green are going to offer to beat me up for you if I'm bothering you."

"I wouldn't ask them to waste their time because you're not worth it."

He gripped her free arm then, tugging her to a nearby classroom that seemed to be empty first hour. At least today it was. He had no way of knowing if it was usually because he rarely came to this end of school.

"Let go of me," she hissed. She hadn't raised her voice, though, so no one was really paying them any attention. No more than they ordinarily would seeing someone like him talk to someone like her.

"I will not until you stop and talk to me rationally. Listen, I can accept if you changed your mind, but I don't know what this sleeping with someone else shit is."

"You can't lie to me!"

"I can't lie about something I have no clue what you're talking about."

"That," she said, pointing to his neck.

"That what?" he frowned. "You're mad because I'm not covering it up?"

"I'm mad because it's there at all."

"Well, of course it's there, they don't go away in two seconds."

"Why is it there at all?"

"Claire, I've never questioned whether I was dense before, but you're not making sense. What exactly are you mad about?"

"You have a hickey."

"Yeah. We've established that already. What's the big deal? No one is going to look at it and think anything of it. Besides, if they see it and do know. Well, I figure if a hickey from Kenickie is like a Hallmark card one from you must be like winning the lottery."


His eyes widened. "What what?"

"I did not do that."

He closed his eyes, mentally counting to ten.

"That's what you're mad about? You think the hickey is from someone else?"

"I thought I'd established that already by talking about you not being able to keep it in your pants because I didn't do that."

"I hate to tell you this, Princess, but you did. I have another one, too," he said, tugging his shirt up. "You want to see it?"

"No, God. No. You are so full of crap. I saw you talking to her yesterday morning."

"Her who?"

"I don't know. Someone. A little shorter than me, blonde hair, big boobs, which might explain why you don't remember talking to her because you probably weren't paying attention."

He shook his head. "Amber? I've never touched her in my life. I'll have you know I went home Saturday night and had the pleasure of my parents' company for the remainder of the weekend. Seems they weren't too impressed with my managing to get more detention while serving one."

She shook her head, exhaling sharply. "How could I do that and not know it?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. I wasn't really paying attention to what you were doing to my neck and chest, Princess. You were doing other, nicer things to better parts of me."

"So you're telling me I really did that?"

"Yes," he said.

"And you intentionally didn't cover it?"


"Because it's from me?"

"Right. I mean, basically. No one but Andy, Allison, and Brian would guess it's from you."

"Oh God," she murmured.

"What's the big deal? It's a hickey. It's not like it's the end of the world, Claire."

"Why then?"

"Why not? I'm actually kind of proud of it."

"Proud of it?"



He scoffed. "Because it's from you," he said. "If you weren't so worried about what your mom and dad would think you'd probably have one, too."

"They would freak, John."

"Princess," he said, closing the distance between them. He leaned down a little, grazing her neck with his lips and teeth before finding her ear. "I think a hickey would be the least of their concerns if they knew what you spent the last couple hours of detention doing. Not to mention who you were doing it with. I don't have hours, but we could certainly do it again if you need reminding."

She pushed on his chest a little and he pulled away a bit.

"I don't need reminding. I'm not stupid. I know what we did."

She glanced behind him, eyes widening and he wondered if they'd been caught by a teacher coming into the classroom.

"Crap, I'm going to be in trouble for being so late for class."

He grabbed her hand before she could run away, because he knew that's what she was doing. Girls like her didn't get in trouble for being a few minutes late for class. She could just bat their eyelashes and say she was in the bathroom so didn't hear the bell ring and the teacher would let it slide.

"You're not missing anything. It's just class. Staying here with me would be much more fun. There's certainly more room in here than there was on Saturday."

"I'm not having sex with you in a classroom!"

"But a closet was acceptable?"

"No one was going to walk into the closet."

"Vernon could've."

"Vernon probably would have thought he had the wrong closet," she said with a soft laugh.

"Or having a nightmare."

"Thanks a lot," she said, tugging her hand away from his grasp. "I didn't realize I was that disgusting to look at."

"That's not what I meant, and you know it."

"I have to go, John."

"Hey. Today after school then?"

She stopped at the door leading out of the classroom, turning to face him just a little.

"My mom's going to be home," she said, sounding actually a little disappointed.

"Mine's not," he offered. Her eyes widened a little. He'd surprised her. "I mean, it's not as nice as your place is I'm sure, but I have a bed just the same as you do."

"I'm not waiting for you."

"I wouldn't expect you to."

"If I get another detention for this I'm going to be mad at you."

"It's not my fault an orgasm seems to give you a lapse in memory."

"It wasn't that."

"Then why else would you not know you gave it to me? Two of them?"

"I just didn't realize, I guess. I mean, I didn't try to."

"Well, I'll let you not try to again later. Maybe one right here," he said, pointing to a spot just under his ear.

"You want me to give you one?"

"Well, sure. Why not?"

She shook her head, frowning a little. She wanted to answer him, he could tell, but evidently not badly enough to put off going to class any longer.

"I really have to get to class."

"Yeah, all right, Princess. I've got gym last period so give me a few minutes to get to your car afterward."

"I can give you a few minutes."


"Yeah, sure," she said.

"Hey," he called after her, closing the distance between them.

"What? You're making me later."

He leaned in and kissed her. It was a pretty nice kiss considering they were in a classroom at school and she was going on over five minutes late to class. She didn't break it right away anyway.

"Have a good day, Claire."

"You, too," she whispered, clearly a little surprised he'd done that. He was, too, honestly. He wasn't much into putting it out there who he was or wasn't involved with. It just wasn't anyone else's business. Of course, most of the chicks he got involved with no one else cared about.


"Where are you going?" he asked, sliding a fingertip along the curve of her hip and thigh when she moved to sit up on his bed. Fortunately his room was the cleanest room in the house; at least he thought it was fortunate she saw he wasn't a slob despite the rest of the house's condition. He'd long ago stopped trying to do more than the surface maintaining he was in the habit of doing. It was just undone in a day anyway, and really if his parents wanted to live like that that was their problem. John's room didn't have to be like the rest of the house.

"To get dressed."

"Why?" he asked with a frown. "I like you undressed."

"You would," she said, but she didn't sound mad he'd said so. "I should go."

"My parents aren't going to be home for another hour yet at least."

"You want me to stay?"

"What the hell kind of question is that?"

"I don't know. I don't know how this works."

"How what works?"


"Well, you've done just fine, Princess, trust me."

"Thank you, but that's not the part that has me unsure."

"What has you unsure, Claire?"

"I don't know. I'm not even sure why I'm here. You don't do girlfriends. We've established that. I'm just not a casual sex person."

"You think this was casual?"

They'd just spent the last ninety minutes getting all kinds of sweaty despite the fact it was barely above freezing outside.

"I don't know what it was, and it's not like I expect anything from you. If I stay, though," she shrugged.

"What are we talking here?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. God, you're asking me questions I don't have answers to."

"Can't you stay and we can worry about the rest later?"

"You'd like that."

"You would, too," he said, sliding his hand from her thigh between her legs to touch her nub. "I know you would because I would make it worth your while."

"Your parents are going to know."

"Know what?"

She whimpered softly as he worked at touching her the way he'd discovered she liked to be touched.

"If they come home and I'm still here, even if I'm dressed they'll know what we were doing."


"You don't care?"

He scoffed. "Why in the hell should I care if they know we had sex?"

"Because they're your parents."

"Maybe to you and your parents that matters, but not to me."

"John," she said.

"Claire," he said.

"I can't. If I stay…"

"There you go again with that. What is it you want me to say?"

"I don't know. I don't want you to say anything." She sighed softly, though she hadn't moved any further away from him since he'd started touching her, so he suspected he was winning her over even if his words weren't.

"You think this means nothing to me, is that it?"

"I know it doesn't."

"You're wrong. I don't do words real well, Princess. At least, not good words used in good ways. We haven't even had a date. I sort of figured you'd give me the chance to show you it means something. Anyone could tell you it does."

"You want to go out on a date with me?"

"I want to do lots of things with you. A date might be one of them. Maybe pizza later. A movie over the weekend if you were willing." He leaned up, kissing her shoulder. "Reach into the drawer, grab a rubber, you can put it on me this time."

"I don't know how."

"I'll show you."

"I can't believe you just keep them by your bed like that."

"I don't," he replied.

"John, they're there!"

"Yeah, sure, today. I bought some Sunday and brought them to school with me yesterday because I expected to use them. For some reason I didn't."

"Oh," she said.

"If you're going to come home with me after school more often I'll have to keep some here, I guess, but I'm not stupid enough to keep them in my nightstand for more than a day. Mom doesn't come in here often, but she does sometimes."

"She searches through your drawers?" she asked. He bit his tongue to stop from saying anything when she reached for the drawer in question.

"If she thinks she'll find pot in there, yeah."

"They won't be home for an hour?"

"At least," he said.

"Show me," she said.

"One condition, Princess."

She rolled her eyes as she handed him the packet.


"You do the work this time."

"I said you could show me."

He chuckled, tearing open the packet. "That's not what I meant."

"What then?"

"I want you on top of me."


"So I'll have extra pleasant dreams tonight?"

She nibbled at her lower lip, clearly thinking over his request. Jesus, he'd taken her against the door at school on Saturday and she'd let him take her from behind today. Why was her being on top an issue? As if she had anything to be embarrassed or ashamed of. Chicks, he'd never understand them.

"Show me," she finally said for the second time. "And I'm not just talking about that either," she said, pointing at the packet.


"You said you're not good with words. So I'm giving you the chance to show me."

"Do I have to carry your books to your classes for you?"

"Once in a while would be nice."

"Jesus," he said, pausing in tearing open the packet to look at her. "Really?"

"You asked!"

"I was joking! I didn't expect you to say yes!"

"What girl doesn't want that?"

"I don't know I've never dealt with girls like you before, but if you insist I suppose we can work something out."

They stopped talking as he helped her put the rubber on, showing her how much room to leave at the tip. Once all she had left to do was roll it down the rest of the way along his shaft he let go, sliding his hands under his head.

"I think I could come just from you doing that."

"Shut up," she said.

"You do a lot more touching than I do when I slide one on. It feels nice," he said with a slight shrug when she glanced up at him. He could tell she was debating about whether to climb on top of him or not. It was the reason he'd moved his hands out of the way. Up until now while she'd been a – very – willing participant she hadn't actually done the work. He wanted to be sure if she took him inside of her this way it was because she wanted to.

Eventually, she stopped stroking him and moved on top of him.

"Why are you smiling?" she asked.

"Because you're making me feel good? I don't know. What kind of question is that? Am I supposed to frown?"

"No, I don't know, just making sure you're not laughing at me."

He snorted. "You've done nothing I'd laugh at you about."

"You say that now, I'm not even sure how to do this," she said.

"Great time to learn, Princess."

She took hold of his shaft again and he watched as she slid his head along her sensitive spot for a while. Clearly, she liked doing that so he wasn't going to hurry her along. If she enjoyed herself chances were she'd do it this way again. He moved one hand from under his head, sliding it between them so he could enter her with a finger since she seemed to be enjoying rubbing herself with him at the moment. He closed his eyes for a minute or two, counting mentally in his head. Between the sounds she was making and how wet she was he probably hadn't been too far off saying he could come just from her doing this.

"Princess," he hissed, sliding his finger out of her.

She whimpered softly, but moved the head of him lower away from her nub to her slick entrance. He almost expected her to ask him to do it, but she guided him into her. Just the tip at first as she ran her hand along his shaft lower to cup his sac before taking him all of the way inside of her. They cried out at the same time at the feel of him all the way inside of her like this so quickly. He wasn't sure if it was good or not on her part, but he was pretty damned sure he'd found his new favorite position with her.

She leaned toward him, kissing him and he slid his hand to her breast. He stroked her peak with his thumb as he caressed the skin there. She broke the kiss as he rolled her peak between his fingertips, gasping against his neck before settling her mouth against him there.

He swore to God if she forgot giving him these hickeys he was going to freak out because she certainly seemed to enjoy giving them to him. He slid his hand to her hip as she rode him, clenching around him in a way that felt incredible to him.

He skimmed his hand along her thigh, sliding it between their bodies so he could touch her. She finished almost before his finger even touched her. He chuckled softly.

"Shut up," she murmured, stopping what she'd been doing long enough to move a bit along his neck.

"I didn't say a word, Princess," he whispered. He didn't stop touching her there either until she drew away from his neck. She slid her mouth lower to his chest, finding one of his nipples to lick and suck on. He'd never had much of a reaction to that before, but whatever she was doing felt pretty damned good. She was flicking her tongue along it real fast and then nipping at it. Lower to the skin below his nipple she licked and sucked, hands sliding along his stomach and lower to his hips.

She must have known he was about to finish because she leaned back again and started moving herself on his length deeper and harder until he was done.

"We're never doing anything but that ever again," he said when she collapsed on top of him.

"I'm not agreeing to that!"

"Hmm, you seemed to like it all right."

"I did," she admitted.

"There was another way you liked better?"


"Please don't say me on top."

She laughed. "That was nice."

"Nice?" He scoffed. "I think we need to try it again if you think it was nice."

"What's wrong with nice?"

"Sex isn't supposed to be nice, Princess."

"Why not?"

He shrugged. "I don't know." He had no idea how to answer that. He'd never before thought of sex as nice. It felt good and it was a hell of a lot of fun. "Puppies are nice."

"Hmm. You don't like sex to be like puppies?"

He chuckled. "I like having sex with you like puppies."

"I liked it, too," she whispered.

"Really?" That surprised him. That she admitted liking it anyway. He certainly hadn't gotten the impression she didn't enjoy him being behind her when they'd done it that way earlier.


"Is that the way you liked better?"


"And you thought that was nice?"

"No," she said with a laugh.

"Why not?"

She shrugged against his chest, lifting her chin and resting it on him to look at him. "You were harder that way."

"I was no harder than any other way."

"That's not what I meant," she said, blushing profusely.


"You felt good," she said, lowering her head again. "You know, uh, you weren't as gentle."

"I really wish you wouldn't look away from me when you say shit like that to me."

"What difference does it make?"

"Because then you'd see that I really, really like that you said that."


"I guess maybe that's why I've never thought of it as being nice before. I've never gone out of my way to hurt anyone or anything, but sex for sex's sake tends to be a lot more matter of fact than you and I are today."

"No niceness?"

"Yeah, not so much."

"Do you like it or not?"

"I could get used to it maybe."

"But you like the not so nice, too."

"It feels good, which is the point. And I guess there's less chance of any misunderstanding."

She was quiet after that for a minute or two. He had to refrain from offering anything she wasn't asking for. He was pretty okay with a misunderstanding on her part; he sort of wanted to misunderstand, too, for a change. He couldn't remember the last girl he'd been with two different times like this.

"Are you really going to carry my books for me?"

"Look at me," he whispered. She did. He pointed at his neck. "How many of those do I have now?"

She blushed again. "Uh, well, three."

"It seemed like you were giving me more than that."

"Three more," she said, biting her lower lip as if she thought he'd get mad.

"Huh," he said. "You're going to remember giving them to me tomorrow?"

"Yes," she said wryly.

"Then I'll carry your books for you."

She snorted. "You're such an ass. I didn't mean tomorrow."

"Why put it off?"

"Hmm. Your other girls might get mad."

"What other girls?"

She leaned up to kiss him. "Good answer."

"I can ace the tests I want to pass, Princess."

"Crap. Your parents are going to be home like any second. Why didn't you say something?"

"I saw the time."

"And you don't care?"

He shrugged.

"I don't, but I know you do. So, let's get dressed and go get something to eat before they get home. And, Claire," he said, moving from the bed once she slid off of him. He went to the bathroom real quick.


"I'm going to repay you for four of them by the way."

"You can't! My parents would freak out and ground me for weeks!"

"Oh, I will leave it where you can cover it up if you have to."

"Home being the only place I have to?"

"Uh huh."

"You're the one who said you wanted more!"


She winced at that as they started getting dressed.

"Sorry," she said.

"I'm not mad, just the opposite. I know you did it because you were enjoying yourself not to try and make some statement. Just expect payback at some point."


"Yeah, you know, staking claim."

"I'd never try to claim you, John."

"Wow, really? That kind of hurts, Princess."

"Come on. What? You want me to?"

He stepped in front of her as he slid his flannel shirt on over his T-shirt, cupping her cheek. "I kind of thought we might do it together."

"Oh," she said.

"That sound workable?"


"You're sure?"

"I wasn't expecting that, but sure."

"Yeah, trust me it's baffling to me, too, but the idea of you going to anyone else for what we just did today pisses me off beyond belief."

"So it was nice?"

He chuckled softly. "Yeah, I guess it was, Princess."

~The End~