The Art of Dilapidation (Kellic)

38: Your Lips Are My Lifeline

After two weeks of pure bliss it was about time that I got whopping dose of reality and it was a hard pill to swallow, especially when it came in the form of getting shoved against a locker by some jock. The air left my lungs along with a small exclamation of surprise as my body hit the metal door. My books hit the floor with a loud thud. "Hey there, faggot," a deep voice growled. "Miss me?"

"Can't say I did," I replied, bending down to collect my books, "but who would really?" In retrospect I probably shouldn't have said anything at all, but I was feeling cocky I guess. Suddenly a foot kicked one of my books across the floor, so I looked up. The jock, Marcus Black, sneered at me. Do you remember him? He was the one who beat me up at the very beginning of the story, in case you don't recall, and he was one of my regulars. "What'd you say, fucker?" he said, narrowing his eyes.

He didn't even wait for answer before grabbing me by the front of my shirt and slamming me against the locker again. Everyone formed a crowd around us, gawking at the scene before them. Marcus pulled his fist back and then crashed it into my jaw. I couldn't help the whimper that escaped my lips. "Take that you worthless piece of shit," he snarled. I squeezed my eyes tightly shut as he gave me another punch to the mouth and seemed fully prepared to deliver another, but he was suddenly wrenched off me.

I opened my eyes, expecting to see a teacher or maybe even Andy; he was reckless enough to do something like that. It wasn't either of those options, though. Standing over Marcus, who had been shoved to the ground, was Vic. His hands were clenched in fists at his side and he looked pissed as hell. "Get the fuck off him," Vic growled. He looked incredibly intimidating and I could see his shoulders rising and falling in time with his heavy breathing.

"Don't you ever fucking touch him, you dick," Vic continued, raising his voice a little. He grabbed Marcus by the front of his shirt and hoisted him up a bit. "You stay the hell away from him." Vic dropped him and I saw that Marcus had a red, slightly swollen lip. Vic must've hit him and I just didn't notice. "Why should I, Fuentes?" Marcus said in a taunting tone. "Why do you even care?"

Vic ignored his words and started to walk away, his gaze flitting to me worriedly. I nodded a little to show that I was okay despite my now split lip and throbbing jaw. "Oh, I know," Marcus said. "Maybe you're gay like him. Maybe you're crushing on Quinn here. I bet that's it." Vic turned around and glared at him. Everyone stared on with bated breath as they waited for Vic to reply. When he didn't Marcus just kept talking. "That's it, isn't it? You just wanna fuck Quinn. You're just as much of a faggot as him."

Vic looked over at me and I could tell exactly what he wanted to do. He was silently asking permission, so I nodded slightly. Vic crossed the space between us in two big strides and then he grabbed my hips and crashed his lips to mine. A collective gasp filled the room as I wrapped my arms around his neck. I could've sworn I heard a couple cheers and a 'fuck yeah, bitches' from some one who sounded a hell of a lot like Andy. I didn't care about what any of them were saying, though. I only cared about the boy who was kissing me like his life depended on it.

It seemed to last for days. Vic held me close, not leaving an inch of space between our bodies. His lips were my lifeline, tethering me to this world when it felt like I was floating away. Vic eventually pulled back and looked at me for a second before planting another quick kiss on my lips. "Wow," he murmured.

"Yeah," I replied. "Wow pretty much sums it up." Vic gave me a brief glimpse of that stellar smile of his and touched the tip of his nose to mine. We both turned our heads and looked at the crowds, taking in the mixture of horror, surprise, disdain, disgust, and pride in Andy's case. I could see him standing, towering over most other people. He gave me a thumbs up and I smiled meekly.