Welcome to Gaia! ::

It's easy to move into a new city, to throw away the vestiges of an unpleasant past and a murky future and run through a town like you haven't a care in the world. What isn't easy is giving up addiction.

Vincent squashed the remains of tobacco and nicotine under his boot and adjusted his sunglasses; he hated early mornings and gym lockers, he couldn't stand long essays and classes about social responsibilities. So why the hell was he looking up at the monstrous building that served as a school? What had possessed him to come here?

Well aside from his other activities, he had grown used to these things. The cliques, the lame events, the excursions and the inedible cafeteria food. So come Monday morning, he found himself handing in well forged transcript papers and smiling all 'good'ol'boy' smiles at the receptionist. The receptionist gave him a look like she was neither fooled nor pleased and sent him off to his first class of the day. Just as well because he'd been with her, the principal and two other administrators for almost an hour now. He'd arranged most of this hoo-ha the previous week, but paperwork was paperwork; he was convinced it simply spontaneously appeared most days.

The pale yellow vests, the white shirts; Vincent was already annoyed with the uniforms; they covered everything and left very little to the imagination. Still, it could be worse. It could have been lime green. He had some standards.

The first class was gym. Not Vincent's best subject; he didn't generally do 'sweaty' and chasing balls. At least not on the scale of sports. Still, short-shorts were one of his favourite things. And to think, he might have---The punk's eyes widened as he caught sight of a fair-skinned angel dashing past-- missed this for laziness? Oh hell no!

Spotting the teacher he picked his way around the edge of the hall and handed across some of his small entourage of paper. The man wasted no time in making Vincent feel alienated. "Oh, new kid huh? Say, that address is close to the church, you know. Oi! Ciaran, c'mere for a second."

Great, a choir boy? Vincent ate those for breakfast.

Vincent's eyes fell on the redhead approaching, what a fine specimen! His steel gaze swept down Ciaran's form; the way he sashayed, the way he flicked that hair; ohh, here was a heartbreaker, already turning on his charms in an effort to make Vincent weak.

The thousand watt smile was returned. Vincent was short, he'd never be six-foot probably, but this had never bothered him. Height doesn't matter when you're on your knees and certainly, he wouldn't mind getting this flustered Irish boy on his knees.

His attention returned to the coach and with a quirk of his eyebrow that said volumes about the oblivious nature of teachers, he extended a hand for shaking. "Vincent."

"Okay, Ciaran, can you show him the lockers?" The coach's attention varied to the class. "Jimmy, get off the netting!"

The locker room smelled like teenagers. Vincent inhaled deeply and his lips quirked at the Irish boy's accent. He had travelled a little but not internationally, yet he was getting an urge for greener fields just listening to the other roll out his words. Still, he'd picked King's city for a reason. A good reason, actually.

"Glad to make your acquaintance." And he was, increasingly so. It didn't take an expert to see the hidden signals the red-head was sending him. The swish of his long hair, the way he was whistling all casual like. This was a little forward, they hardly knew each-other! But Vincent wasn't the sort to just outright reject such an obvious offer. His momma' raised him better than that.

"So your accent, not from King's city originally, either?" He followed the other, noticing the stretch of the short-shorts from behind and quietly, politely looking away; Vincent felt that the red-head was being a little overt in this seduction... or was he just reading into it? Hm. The other looked relatively innocuous. And he had a bit of a 'holy pure boy' look about him. Was Vincent's own predilections entering into this equation?

"It's been a first day so far. Hoping to have some friends by the end of it." He glanced at the other, using his bag to hide his expression as he sent out a verbal probe. Was he imagining the wanton seduction?

Vincent's gaze travelled over the gym room. Noting the subtle bits and pieces out of place, the general disarray. He wondered if this was a universal thing. Everything was always messy in sports offices.

"I'm medium." Well, if it was a smaller size, his height didn't afford him a lot of luxury, but he wasn't a tiny midget. Although the tall Irish boy made it hard to believe. Vincent glanced over at the coach's desk, idly scanning some of the papers- permission slips, that sort of thing. A few poorly written memos. Content to let the other do most of the talking now. Vincent didn't like revealing much about himself.

"I'm sure I'll bond." He glanced back to the other, cocking his head slightly. He still wasn't sure, was this overt sexual display, or was it innocent? Vincent ran his teeth over his lip piercing, a habit that marked his thinking face. Well there was one way to figure it out.

Finally he stepped closer, touching Ciaran's hip softly so he could reach over the taller boy and grab the shirt Ciaran was pulling out. "I like your positive attitude, Ciaran." He murmured a little lowly. Well, if that wasn't asserting a little interest in return... now if Ciaran gave him some more signals he'd know they were on for... well, whatever the tease was on for.

Vincent startled a little when the other jumped from the touch. Hm, so he had been misreading then? Ah, what a shame. Ciaran was just his type. Really. A shame.

He took the shirt and straightened. "I startled you." there was a vaguely apologetic tone in his voice, but Vincent was too disappointed to be too cordial. He really had gotten his hopes up.

The other moved to the edge of the coach's study and dumped his bag and million papers, a moment later he pulled his shirt over his head. His chest was just as pale as the rest of him, although the piercing on his left side was more evident, as well as a very large purple bruise, like he'd smacked right into something- or been kicked in the ribs.

His spikey do popped out of the shirt first, it was a loose fit, but Vincent wasn't complaining.

"I'll leave my stuff in the office. the teacher can give me a locker after class." Like he'd done this a few times...

"So you just moved here a few weeks ago?" It was prompting for more information

Vincent noticed the blush and the averted gaze. Hm, perhaps he didn't need to be disappointed, Ciaran seemed embarrassed- ah! shy. Vincent knew all about the shy ones. So innocent until you got the sheets off and then they would go wild. He just had to remain in charge.

He would have thought Ciaran had the taste of domination in him, but no, the shy reaction told him that this was certainly not a boy to initiate anything.

Vincent bit his lip again. "I don't mind." He grabbed his stuff and indicated for Ciaran to lead on with a flourish of his hand.

"Oh, your father is in the military?" It was a close guess, army brats moved a lot, afterall.

"So you're a little shy, huh?" He popped in, like it was part of the conversation already.

Vincent nodded at this information, glad that the question hadn't been fired back at him. He hated answering personal questions. But the way that Ciaran spoke was so interesting, the accent made him want to hear Ciaran saying just about anything. He could think of a few choice phrases.

"Oh, a consultant? I see. And your mother?" He probed.

The white haired boy licked his lips again, obviously in no hurry to go back to class. Most of the kids were pretty average, he had trouble finding them intellectually stimulating, then again, it didn't take much to physically stimulate him.

The red head was definitely putting signals out there, the way he leaned against the locker, shifting his body to and fro, the fabric of his shorts exposing such delicious thighs.

"You have this sort of... coiled, pent up frustration going on physically, but your head is all a different story. I know a good trick for getting you to overcome the shyness." His tone was lowering, gaze flickering from head to toe with deliberation. Oh, Vincent could find a dozen ways to help with shy schoolboys.

The overt sexual overture hid his own insecurities quite well. He was one to go on the offensive instead of defending. Everything about Vincent was aggressive, the piercings that showed no aversion to pain, the non-conformist hair and flippant disregard for any sort of rule. Vincent's whole nature was compensating for the deeper troubles that brewed just out of sight.

Vincent nodded as the other spoke. He enjoyed learning personal details about one without giving them away himself. Something of a gatherer of these things. Still, he reflected, he needed to be more careful.

"Hm, how nice." He didn't elaborate. The bell chimed above them signalling the end to the class. Vincent grinned and took the opotunity to lean forward, giving Ciaran a hard pat to the backside that lingered a little too long before he turned. "Better get going."

He turned and left the locker room whistling faintly like he had not just coped a feel, swinging the clothing Ciaran had grabbed him over his shoulder casually. Mmm, smooth and round.