Love And War By. J. Monroe
Disclaimer***
If you are not suppose to read this kind of material. Then please don't. To protect the author and site. If you are underage do not proceed. This material depicts homosexual relationships,harsh words, and drug use. It is intended for a mature audience.
I prefer the company of Oceans Twelve to Oceans Eleven. It's not important,but it's something you should know about me. I prefer right over left and east over west. West just sounds gross. I know who I am. I question myself rarely. Confident in only one thing. Sex.
The great thing about me is that I truly just don't give a fuck. What some say a character flaw I say perfection, but as all well and honest people know. Your flaw is your weakness. If they know your flaw they have won. Really now, in the end it all comes down to love and war.
There are only a few things in my life the I can truly and actually remember vividly enough. The time my brother was hit by a car, the time I realized life was a game and I needed to step mine up. Yet the one that stands out the most is the time I fell in love for the first time. Only a few people I think could call themselves special and true. I would like to believe that my virtue is honesty. I believe it is my blessing and my curse. My flaw. The difference between you and I. I know who I am, I know what I want. I don't need the self discovery on the road to ending up back where we started scenario. I knew I was gay since kindergarten. When I was obsessed with this boy James and his rat tail haircut. I remember thinking and truly believing that he was beautiful. I would cheer at recess and find it severely strange that boys liked girls and wanted to chase them. Growing up, if someone asked if I was gay. I would say no, my name is Layton. It wasn't the best, but I quickly figured out that sarcasm is the key to winning many a small battle, and poker games. I would always back track, and tell them I was. Depending on the platform making either a grand equal rights speech in a classroom. Or just a simple off- handed joke in the locker room. I just don't really care what people think, and I live for the awkward moments in life, as they are the ones we always refer back too in groups, talking about elementary school in junior high. Junior high in high school. Until you realize life is really like high school. You should have paid more attention.
I'm a libra. So I'm a fairly balanced type of person. I'm an incredible lover. I also learned early on that if you don't like one thing then find one you do. Later I learned it's actually called an oral fixation, somewhere in my childhood I never got the proper amount of oral stimulation. So I made sure to make up for lost time. Got me a dildo and used it and used it until I became a master. Weird thing though, when I got my braces put on sophomore year of high school. I lost my gag reflex. . I am a serial cheater, by default. I do not want to be, and I don't believe subconsciously I mean to. I do believe in honesty and I believe in never making a promise and being upfront with everyone when I say I'm not good at relationships. Mine are more of the relationSHIT variety. I do truly believe in telling people what I want and expect. Of course they can have the pleasure of doing the same. funny thing is most of them decline. They say they can handle it. They are not like other guys and are secure. Until they realize my M.O. My code, my genetics is a flirt. Men,woman,kids,pets, daddies. Especially them daddies. They can't handle the pressure. Then I end up finding a bigger dick in a hairless ass pasture. I tell them the disclaimer from the beginning and they think I lie. They I meant to cause pain and harm. I will always ruin a good thing. I'm Amy Winehouse. "I am trouble. You know I'm no good." I don't care though. I love myself more than anyone else. In my eyes I did the right thing by being honest from the jump. It's not my fault they didn't heed warning. I cannot be responsible for how others feel.
I live in Kansas City. It is by choice. Not so bad of a place, unless you like consistent weather and not getting stared down while holding another boy's hand. It's where I was born and raised. It's where I learned my street smarts and faked my book smarts. And currently it is where my fucking car is broken down. Right in the city. 39th and Broadway I have taken over, and it is a mess. I fumble with my phone trying to google the nearest auto shop, but my auto correct keeps correcting the word auto to anal. I make a side note to investigate this anal shop later.
"Metal on 39th."
"Yeah man, my car is fucking broken."
"Okay. And where is this car broken?"
"39th and broadway."
"Will you need a tow?"
"Mmhmm, and a coke."
"Alright." He hesitated. There could have been a chuckle. I know atleast a grin.
His voice was pretty smooth and deep. Not Barry White deep but a good mix of that blonde James Bond guy and John Snow from Game of Thrones. Let's just hope he looked like either. Or both. I'm not picky.
Do you know that I hate when someone says they have news to share, but then hesitates to tell you said news all because they need attention like some fame whore who's last hit was Ricki Lake era times. Yeah I hate that, but also I hate being stranded somewhere and just having people stare at you. You know they are just forming an opinion about you. Is he homeless? Do you think he showers? Rude. Rude to the mcgrudes, sometimes I give a finger to kids. Or lick my lips to a hot dad. Today though I just sat on the curb and waited.
"Hey man you needed a tow?"
"And a coke."
"Ha. Yeah you mentioned it."
"Did you bring it?"
"Nope. You were serious?"
"Strike one." I said. Putting my phone away.
"Holy shit"
"What?" He said nervous.
"You are hot! I would lick your teeth." I'm blunt.
"Lick my teeth?" He replied. He's hooked.
"Gotta brush them!" I'm cute.
"Who are you?" He asked. We could get married I think.
"Layton. Call me L. Look man I busted my tire. Ripped it clean off." I said pointing to the wreckage.
"No really?" He replied. Is he trying it? I thought.
"Is that-is that sarcasm mister sister?" Let's see how he does.
He ignored me and proceeded to do whatever he needed to do to tow my car. Now naturally the first thing I look at on a guy is his butt. Butt,teeth,eyes, hands. In that order. He was wearing a gray jumpsuit that all mechanics usually wear. Except for his had this really cool psychedelia mushroom with these cool colors of purple and light blues. It was just baggy enough that I couldn't really make out anything. I.e dick size. I do think in the horizon I did see a small curvature to an ass when he bent over and hooked the tailgate. I already know his teeth are perfect. Shiny like glass, but not fake like plastic. There is a fine line. I snapped my fingers to get his attention and he looked dead on at me. I can't look people in the eye so instead I choose the middle of the forehead. His eyes though where blue on the outside and gray around the black dot. The iris? I don't know. Anyways it took me a minute to even locate them. They were so hidden from his almost too full eyebrows. He was definitely a Jesse from Gilmore Girls. His hands. Self explanatory. I mean he works with them all day. And really the feel of a mans' rough hands on my nipples is enough to make me cum.
"do you wanna get in?" He asked.
"Cum again?" I replied. Yet I don't think he knew I actually meant c-u-m.
"You're hitched. Let's go"
I learned a lot about "Jesse" just by riding in his work truck for those two blocks. I guess a guys truck is like a girls closet. It was nothing special. A regular old Dodge truck. I would guess the 97' only because of the tape deck.
"I owe you a coke" he said roaring his beast of a truck to life. Before resting his arm on the window he ran his fingers through his hair.
"Yes. Yes you do" was I flustered?
"Care if a make a quick pit stop?" He asked
"Do it to it Lars." I'm funny.
The second he left that truck I tore it apart. Trying to find any evidence. Evidence for what I don't know. His sexuality? Dick size? Well I would just ask that. So let's go with sexuality. Maybe some panties so we can go on Maury and use a decoy. Or maybe some cheap synthetic weave so I can catch him jeepin a la Clueless, but really besides some sunglasses. Thankful not white. If a guy wears white sunglasses. He's a douche, say no, run away, and tell someone you trust. He had some good cologne. Aqua do gio. Not that bathroom axe shit. He wasn't no ordinary basic bitch. Noted. A Best of Queen cd. He's gay. And a journal. I'll file that for later because he's coming back. Handing me a styrofoam cup.
"I didn't know if you were a bottle or a fountain guy, so I guessed."
"Good boy" I slipped.
"Well, thank you" he said with a grin. A sexy side Angelica pickles grin.
We didn't really say much the way back. I couldn't stop staring at his thighs and the way they jiggled when we hit a bump. Pulling up to his shop. I couldn't help but wonder who owned this place.
"Who owns this place?" So I asked.
"Me"
"No really"
"It's the family"
"Ohh the truth finally. Shall set you free! Jesus loves"I said in fake jubilation.
"You're funny" he chuckled. While unloading my car.
The shop was all metal. Hence the name. There were six bays. Which is pretty impressive for the city.
"Hey you know. Six bays are impressive for this city layout. Grid type system...thing a lang."
He looked at me like I was stupid for a second but still smiled.
"Yeah, my dad and I saved and hustled until we could get this place."
"That's cool really. I don't know my family is from. Mission Hills."
"Ah, say no more johnson county boy."
"Hey now. It's hard out there for a privileged white boy" I said in protest.
"How do I know which sushi restaurant to go to, or which drug I want up my nose during class breaks?"
"I think there's an app for that. I think it's called privlg'd, don't forgot the apostrophe d." He's good
" why no. Never the apostrophe D" I mocked.
"Is this a o 12'?" He asked.
"Who the fuck says o 12'?" I asked. "It's a '12, yes like my dick".
"That's graphic" he replied not missing a beat.
"Novel" I said.
"So really though," he started as I lost focus on the task at hand exploring all the tools in the shop.
"Do you think you could wait a day for the parts?" "Or maybe I could see if the auto place can drop them off, but really we may need to go to a junkyard and see what they have as far as a front bumper" he asked me.
"Right!? Britney is the best. Poor Xtina though. She was just too desperate. Trying to throw that cat around and trying dirrty. Girl please"
"Who are you?" He asked literally grabbing his head and hopping up and down like his feet where on fire.
" ha! I'm funny" I said with a grin. "Now what?"
He repeated what he said and without really thinking about it I agreed to wait the extra day. Not realizing that it meant I wouldn't have a car or a ride. And this was not about to walk the streets of Kansas City at night.
" look I can give you a ride, it is really no problem."
"No man I can call a friend. Uber or something..."
"I'm right here. Let me drive you home." I think it was more of a demand than anything else. And so I did.
"Have you eaten?" He asked while lighting up a cigarette.
" no, but now that you mention it I am hungry."
All he said was, "cool".
I think it was thirty minutes later and we were in his backyard. Grilling steaks and corn and smoking a joint.
"So like, do you deal?" I wondered as he handed me the joint.
"Well, I mean"
"That's a yes" I finished for him. "Bad boy" I muttered under my breathe. I think he heard because he flashed a tooth licking smiling.
"I do what I have to. Do you like yours medium?"
"I do, how well you know me already. Can I set the table?" I asked.
"Yeah man, it's not Martha Stewart up in there, plates are in the top right cupboard."
"Do you do this a lot?" I just wanted to know.
"I mean, well no I guess I have been more focused on money then anything else man."
"So you are gay?" It just came out.
"I'm Sevin" was his response.
" like the number?" It was automatic.
" Yes " he chuckled. "Like the number"
" you are really hot" was the first thing that came to mind.
"Thank you" he said. We didn't speak until he was clearing the plates from the table.
"You play zombies?"
"You mean do I kill zombies? Fuck yes" I was too excited.
"You are a PS3 guy?" And without missing a beat he had the best response.
"I have a dick not a clit." Touché.
He rolled another joint while I fired up the game.
"Where are you from Seven?"
"Indy"
"Are you one of those Mizzou fans?"
The smile said it all.
"Oh snicklefritz" was my only response.
"Black and good baby" he the. Proceeded to do that miserable chant that I refuse to repeat.
"Can I get you something to drink?"
"Water please. I already have cotton mouth"
He grabbed a water and a beer for himself and say right next to me. Like real real close to me. His legs and thigh touching mine. I haven't felt that sensation since I meet-
"You turned the hell hounds on" he complained.
"Oh rats." I replied in sarcasm. "We got this. Come on"
"I'll come. On." He fired back. Needles to say we didn't last very long that round. Somewhere between the sixth and seventh round I really started to wonder why his name was Seven.
"Why is your name Seven?"
"I uh, well it's just that-" he was nervous.
"You don have to tell me, sometimes I don't really think before I speak. I mean I do it's just-" he stopped me.
"No, it's just I don't know if anyone has really cared. And I. Well I didn't really have much of a family growing up. My mom left when I was a baby. My father was non-exsistent. So really if not for my grandpa I don't know where I would be. He took me in. He raised me the best he could. He got sick. Really sick and it didn't happen right away, but over time he got worse and worse and when he died. I just. I didn't know what to do. So I just left." He broke down more weed for another joint.
"How did you get the name though?" I inquired.
"Well when I had left. I didn't know my name. As crazy and as silly as it sounds. I did know that I had seven marbles. One for each of my birthdays from my grandpa. It's all I knew. " he lit the joint and I watched the smoke fill his mouth and slowly pour out over his face.
I kissed him. I kissed him like it was my first kiss. Because it was. I could taste the smoke between our lips. I could taste the sweetness of his tongue as he slowly and sinfully played with mine. I let him win the battle and I settled on pulling him into me more. It wasn't working so instead I just put my weight forward and fell on top of him.
"You feel that?" He asked me
"Yeah..it's really big" I breathed.
"No I mean the vibration" he asked.
"Oh fuck" I reached into my pocket and pulled out my iPhone.
"I have to go. I mean. I'm sorry I just. Can we go?" I was freaking out.
"Yeah man" he said just as frantic looking for his shoes and keys. I noticed him licking his lips and running his fingers through his hair. God he was so sexy. And I would note that for later. He was into me, but for right now. I have to get home...that text was from Dillon. My boyfriend.
Well there you have it britches and hoes. First chapter done. If you got through it congratulations. Obviously you did if you are reading this. I am meaning for this to be a full fleshed out story. Dramedy of sorts. Like a juicy soap opera. It's going to be divided into seasons like a television shown cause I dig that format. If you happened to be confused don't be it will all make sense. If you didn't understand the lingo or structure you will become familiar with my isms and vernacular like we are the best of friends. Expect a lot of pop culture. And when the sex comes...so will you. Let me know what you think truly. It's really what I do it for.
Loveandwar913@gmail.com