Claire took a break from dancing and taking advantage of people seeming to be breaking into smaller groups to go up and use the bathroom. There was a bathroom on this floor and one in the basement, but a few had the ability of using the bathrooms upstairs. Claire was one of them.

She had another reason for coming up here. Not that she was telling anyone about it. She hadn't been hugely surprised to see John show up at this party. Like the night they met over four months ago now he wasn't here for the party, though. Try as she might to get jealous at seeing him go upstairs with Heather and Lisa she wasn't. For some bizarre reason she trusted him. She knew what people would say if they found out they were dating. She'd made the arguments with herself the first few weeks, but he'd done absolutely nothing to this point to indicate she shouldn't trust him.

She used the bathroom, just in time to see Heather and Lisa leave the room they'd gone into with John. She was taking a chance no one else had gone into the room with them, but she hadn't seen anyone else come up here with the three of them. She wasn't even sure he knew she was going to be here tonight. She certainly had no clue he was going to show up at the party.

"Sorry, ladies. I'm not changing my mind. I told you no more money, no more stuff."

"Even for me?"

"Oh, hey," he said, turning to face her. She'd surprised him. "Sorry."

"It's all right," she said with a shrug, closing the door behind her. She rested against it, regarding him. He wasn't dressed as if he was expecting to see her. She could tell the difference. And how silly was that? God, she was absolutely and totally in love with him. It scared the ever-living shit out of her to look at someone and know that's how she felt about him, but she did.

"And the answer to your question is no. You know that already, though. I won't even ask you for what they were offering me either," he said. He held up the baggie of product. "You want?"

"I shouldn't," she said, mulling over what he'd just said about Heather and Lisa. "I've already got a bit of a buzz going."

"Ah," he said. He pulled an already rolled joint out of the front pocket of his flannel shirt. "You want to help me finish this one?"

"Sure," she said, stepping away from the door and closing the distance between them.

"It's better shit than the stuff Heather and Lisa were going to get."

She scoffed softly. "You were going to give me the stuff you sell?"

"Well, no, I guess I was just surprised to see you in here and you asked if the same went for you."

"You didn't know I was here?"

"I knew you were here the second I saw your car out on the street, Princess."

"I suppose," she said, leaning in to kiss his neck. She slid her arms around him, groaning softly at the taste and smell of him. He gasped a bit when her kisses turned to sucking and biting. She heard the sound of plastic hit the bed nearby and then he slid his arms around her, drawing her closer against him.

"What was that for?" he asked.

"A girl wants to kiss her boyfriend and you want to know why?"

"That was more than a kiss, babe," he said, sliding a hand to her hair and touching her there.

She shrugged a bit at that. She couldn't explain it. She just wanted to kiss him.

"I'm not complaining or anything. You know that."

"Good," she whispered, kissing him again.

She tugged his T-shirt out of the waist of his jeans and slid her hands along his stomach there. She groaned a bit as her tongue found his. God he felt good. Somehow he maneuvered them so they were on the bed. She'd managed while he was doing that to get his T-shirt pushed up as far as it could go without taking off the flannel shirt he wore.

He cried out softly as she broke the kiss, finding his stomach and kissing him there before working her way up slowly to his chest. She found a nipple, circling it with her tongue before moving to the other one and doing the same thing. He really seemed to like that, which was good because she had no idea what the fuck she was doing really when it got down to it. Until John she'd never even imagined Frenching a guy let alone doing anything else.

She slid her fingertips along his skin, teasing his sides and stomach before finding the waist of his jeans. She slid her hand into the waist of his jeans then, grazing the skin there with her fingertips. She groaned in frustration when he set a hand over hers once she'd gotten the top button undone.

"Christ, Claire, I'm eighteen years old and never thought what a heart attack might feel like, but I'm beginning to get the idea here."

"Why?"

"Why? Because what you're doing feels really good and I really like where you're headed with this."

"Yeah," she said, working her hand to the next button on his jeans. Of course he was wearing a pair that had the button fly tonight. "So?"

"I don't know how much you've had to drink."

"I'm not that wasted."

"I'd still feel a lot better about this if I'd seen how many cups of beer you've had."

"I just want …"

"I just want what you have in mind, too. Really badly."

"Well then?" She placed a kiss against his stomach then, moving so she was kneeling between his legs and could work the buttons on his jeans better as she slid her lips lower.

She worked another button, allowing her to slide her hand inside of his jeans easier while she kissed his belly.

He hissed a bit when her fingertips found the head of his shaft, touching him there.

"Is this what Heather and Lisa offered to do?"

He didn't answer right away. She was almost sure he wasn't going to. She couldn't blame him, she supposed.

"Uh yeah," he finally said.

"They'd probably be better at it…"

"Fuck better, Claire. Your hand is perilously close to giving me a hand job. You think I want anyone but you touching me like this?"

"I'm glad to know that," she whispered, moving to kiss his chest again. She didn't just kiss him there, though. His hand at her hair, almost begging her to keep sucking on his skin there told her he knew what she was doing just the same as she did.

She took great pleasure in knowing he'd change in the locker room on Monday for gym class and it would show.

He'd hit his head and landed in some bizarr-o world where Claire was this … assertive. Either that or he was having the mother of all dreams where the end result would be a wet dream. That was all he could think of as her fingertips moved along the head of his now erect shaft. Except she wasn't being unusually assertive. She was totally hesitant in what she was doing and bringing up Heather and Lisa doing it better.

He was sure she was right, but he absolutely didn't want better if it meant her hand wasn't the one in his pants at the moment. He had no idea when that had gotten to be the case, but somewhere over the past four months he'd learned he was not only a monogamous guy but liked being that way.

She finished leaving a hickey on his chest and slid her mouth down again. He forced his eyes to remain open, staring at the ceiling in an effort to assure himself he really was awake right now. Certainly, the scent of her perfume and the feel of her hair made him realize it was real, but her perfume he knew well enough by know that it starred in his dreams about her.

Another button on his fly undone accompanied by her hand sliding lower along his erection to where the entire head of it was in the palm of her hand and gone was the good guy in him. She was buzzed, no doubt, but she didn't seem falling down drunk.

He'd hope to catch her attention and get a minute or two alone with her when he saw her car parked on the street outside the house. He should've known she would be here, but they didn't really get into specifics about what they were doing on weekends when they weren't doing things together.

"Jesus fucking Christ," he said when he felt her tongue lick the tip of his dick. Evidently he'd closed his eyes despite wanting to keep them open because he hadn't been prepared for that at all. She didn't take the exclamation as a sign to stop or anything, thankfully.

It wasn't the greatest blow job he'd ever gotten. Hell, she never got beyond licking and sucking on the head. It was her doing it, though, so that in itself was exciting as fuck. Knowing her friends were downstairs with no clue what she was up here doing was exciting, too.

Exciting enough he got extremely close to finishing. They'd never talked about this. He hadn't realized they needed to so he had no idea how she felt about swallowing, but figured probably erring on the side of caution was in order and drew her away from the licking of him he was really enjoying.

"Hey," she murmured as he set his hand over his dick so that it would end up on his hand and stomach versus his jeans or anywhere on her. That'd be an interesting thing for her to explain.

"Sorry, wasn't sure what you wanted to do with that," he whispered, glancing around the room for anything he could use to clean himself off with. He spotted a box of Kleenex on the table next to the bed. He was stopped short of grabbing one by her kissing his stomach before reaching for some herself.

"Thanks," he said as she cleaned him off.

"I would have…"

"I'll know for next time. I didn't think you would."

"Why?"

He shrugged as she grabbed a couple more Kleenex's and wiped his hand off.

"Girls like you…"

"Forget what you think you know about girls like me and remember that while I may be a girl like that I'm still your girl."

He chuckled softly at that. "Yeah you are. I'm not about to forget that any time soon. Trust me."

"Good," she said.

"We should probably throw those in the toilet or something," he said as she dropped the Kleenex's on the floor by the bed.

"I know," she whispered, sliding next to him on the bed. "I will before I go back downstairs."

"All right," he said, no complaints about her laying here next to him for a while before she did that. "I," he said, not sure how to say what he was thinking.

"What?"

"You didn't even let me share in the fun," he said, figuring that was the safer way to broach the fact she'd just gone down on him seemingly expecting nothing from him in return.

"I know."

"Okay," he said. He didn't understand that at all.

"I just," she shrugged, leaning up to kiss him. "Wanted to."

"Far be it from me to sound like I'm not deeply happy you wanted to."

"Deeply, huh?"

He shifted so he was on top of her. "Want me to show you how deeply, Babe?"

"John," she whispered.

He leaned down and kissed her.

"Don't worry, Princess. I'm not pushing for more than you were willing to give tonight. Just offering."

"It's tempting."

"Yeah?" he asked.

"It is, but I should…"

"Yeah, I suppose," he said. She'd been gone for a while now. No one was banging on the door to get in or looking for her, but still. "Want to meet me at the park later?"

"I'm pretty sure I'm staying here tonight."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. I've had enough to drink…"

"Claire," he said cautiously.

"I'm not drunk!"

"All right," he said.

"I just don't want to drive home and a bunch of us are going to crash in the basement and stuff."

"Okay," he said not getting the appeal of that at all. Whatever floated her boat, he supposed.

"I'm glad I saw you come in."

"Me, too," he said. "You have no idea how glad I am right now."

She laughed softly.

"Okay, maybe you have a small idea."

"It didn't seem small to me."

"And I appreciate that you feel that way. I look forward to you exploring it in more detail at another time."

"Me, too."

He stood from the bed then and fixed his jeans. He ran a fingertip over the hickey she'd given him.

"What?" she asked. "Are you mad I did that?"

He scoffed.

"Why would I not get mad about the ones on my neck but get mad about this one?"

She shrugged.

"Not mad, Babe, just looking at it because it's from the first time you kissed me there."

"Oh," she said.

"Hopefully not the last…"

"No," she said.

"Good," he said, relieved to hear that. It'd serve him right, he supposed. Her doing that tonight and deciding afterward that she didn't like it or something so wouldn't again. "I'll wait a few minutes to leave after you've left, but anyone seeing me leave after you would just think we got high."

"I know," she said.

That bothered him, though, a little bit tonight especially in this house full of these people. He'd love nothing more than to let each and every one of them she was his. He didn't see that going over very well, though. A few more weeks and he wouldn't have to worry about Vernon or anything.

He watched her leave, taking the Kleenex's with her so she must have had to go to the bathroom anyway. He certainly could throw them away. He found the baggie he'd tossed onto the bed when she started kissing him and slid it into his pocket and then pulled out his book of matches. He lit one, hating to waste any part of the joint he'd offered to share with her but if someone walked in here after they both left and didn't smell smoke they might wonder.

And why should he care?

He flicked his wrist, putting the match out without lighting the joint.

Fuck it if anyone figured it out. He just didn't care anymore.

"Hey, Claire," John heard Joe say to Claire in the hall. Her back was to him so she didn't know he'd come out yet he guessed.

"Hey, Joe," she said.

"I tried to catch your attention earlier when you were dancing."

"Oh? I must not have seen you," she said.

"Well, I'm here now," he said, stepping a little closer.

"You are."

"You look nice."

"Thanks," she said.

"So, are you really going to go stag to prom?"

"I never said that I was doing that," she said. Is that what she'd told the guy? That she was going by herself? Or was that just what he (and everyone else) thought?

"Why'd you say no then?"

"Because I already had a date, Joe," she said.

"A date that no one in school knows about. Come on. I wasn't expecting you to get a room with me for the night or anything." He set his hand against her arm, rubbing it with the back of his fingers which made John clench his fist. She shook his hand off, though, John noticed.

"Ew," she said. John could just about imagine what she was thinking about that comment. He hadn't thought about them getting a room for the night, but after what just happened maybe he should think about it. He hadn't even realized that was truly a thing. People talked, sure, but people talked about a lot of things they didn't actually do. "Not in this lifetime."

"Hey," he said. "Come on. We're friends. You know I'm not a dick and we'd have a good time."

"Joe. Really, I have a date."

"Who?"

"My boyfriend."

He scoffed at that, frowning a bit but he wasn't looking at her while frowning. He noticed John finally, only because John was behind Claire now.

"You deaf, there, Joe," John said from behind her. "Seems she answered your question. Asking it again doesn't seem as though it's going to get you a different answer."

"Butt out, Bender. No one asked your opinion."

"Hey," Claire said.

"What? He's only here for one thing anyway. Who the fuck cares what he thinks?"

Claire glanced at John briefly, looking upset. He could imagine why, too. She'd said much the same thing that day of detention when they were pretending not to know or like one another. He knew she was just acting, though. So he didn't take what she said personally. Some of it hit a little too close to home, but he'd also let it slip to the others about her mom so fair was fair he supposed. (Not that anyone probably paid his comment about her mother any attention because they wouldn't have realized he actually knew anything about her mom.)

"Well, whether you care what I think doesn't really matter, does it? The lady told you she has other plans that night. Quit acting like a desperate asshole and ask someone else."

"What's it to you anyway?" Joe glanced at Claire then. "You doing that shit now?"

"Oh come on," she said. "Who doesn't once in a while?"

Joe didn't look too happy about that and John could honestly say he'd never seen Joe use any of the stuff he'd brought to parties.

"Besides he's who I'm going to prom with so I can do whatever I want to with him." Had she really just said that? By the look on Joe's face she sure had.

"Now I know you're on something. Be real, Claire," Joe said.

"I am being very real." She set her hand against John's, lacing her fingers through his. He let her and squeezed her hand back when she did that to his. She even settled against him a bit, not that John minded that in the least. He was surprised, though. Admitting she was going to prom with him was one thing, but this was…

Something else entirely.

"You sure you know what you're doing?" he whispered against her ear.

"No," she said.

"All right," he said.

"You're done here then?" she asked, glancing at John.

"Me? Yeah," he said, confused. He would've been done about thirty minutes ago if she hadn't come into the bedroom.

"Let's go then."

"I thought…" he said, cut off from saying more by the look she gave him. "Yeah, sure, whatever," he said.

"Night, Joe," she said.

"Princess," he said when they made their way downstairs where she found her coat and purse.

"Vernon isn't here," she said, reaching into her purse.

"I'm not worried about Vernon here, Babe. This is…"

She took her hand out of her purse, handing him her keys.

"You want me to drive, too?"

"For now. We can go to Denny's or something and then I'll take you home."

"Yeah, okay, whatever. I swear to God you wake up tomorrow regretting this…"

"I'm not going to regret it. You are my boyfriend. I am going to prom with you. Did I lie?"

"Well, no," he said. Put like that, no.

She leaned up and kissed him then.

"Take me to get something to eat."

"Gladly," he said, settling her keys in the palm of his hand as they walked out. A few noticed them walking out together, but not many and those that did probably weren't thinking too hard about what they were seeing. That would change once Joe got done talking to them John imagined.

Story ©Susan Falk/APCKRFAN/PhantomRoses.com