Chapter Text
It's not that I was ugly. I wasn't. I was a little short, maybe, but not ugly. But still it was always all about my sister Ilithya. Nothing I could do. Actually it wasn't all bad. I was OK about not being in the spotlight all the time. I liked my privacy. But sometimes I just wanted to scream. I mean, I did in fact exist, but no one seemed to know it. When I was a few years younger I'd gone through a phase of sulking, shouting and throwing things around just to get attention, acting like a wild little dog. It went on for a few months. Then I stopped. I guess I realized it wasn't worth it. I didn't hate my sister. I just didn't love her. We never spoke or did anything together. She was beautiful with her long, blonde hair and blue eyes, and she got straight A's on her school. She was also good on sports. Me, I wasn't good at any kind of sports and I did my best to stay away from them. I was shorter than her. My hair is very black and wavy, where hers is straight. I didn't have her talent for numbers but I got ok grades in school, especially in drama and other more artistic disciplines which I enjoyed. They didn't count for much in our house, though. I had nothing, she had everything, but she could keep it for all I cared. There was only one thing of hers I craved. Her boys.
She dated many boys, sexy, beautiful and great. She rarely kept one for very long, and she never had any problem replacing the old when she wanted a new one. I'm pretty sure she had sex with most of them. I don't blame her. I would have. I never had a boyfriend, though I wanted one. I had a few offers, but I didn't want one just to have him. I wanted someone special I could love. Don't roll your eyes at me. I was young...
I never had a girlfriend either. Never had to. That's where being invisible came in handy: I didn't have to hide anything, because no one was looking anyway. I feel sorry for boys who have girlfriends just so they can pretend to be something they're not. I feel sorry for the girls too. At the time I was so lonely a girlfriend sounded pretty good. Even when my sister went to college things didn't change, because we lived so close to her school that she just kept living in her old room. I was 17 and still in high school. When I got depressed I reminded myself that things could be a lot worse. I did have one good friend. Well, one friend, period. But she was good. Chadara was her name. I sometimes wondered if what attracted us to each other was the fact that we were both outsiders. I guess it was. I didn't like to think so, though. I liked to think we were a match made in heaven, that we would have ended up friends no matter what the circumstances or the time. I was a romantic. We'd sit in my room and smoke or drink and talk about the world and our dreams, and other people, reveling in our own wisdom. One of the things that made our friendship work was the fact that we both knew we would never, could never fall in love with each other. Chadara was a weird girl. Still is. She had self esteem problems, we were a perfect match in so many ways. We would sing together. I could carry a tune but she was so much better than me, but it was great for both of us. We would sit together and play our guitars and sing for hours without being interrupted.
Agron was the latest in a long line of wooers, just another handsome face and sexy body. I admit, the first time I saw him I thought he was probably the most attractive guy I'd ever seen (he made Brad Pitt look like a bag of cheetos). I knew he'd be gone in a few days, weeks tops if he was really good in bed. There was no feeling there on my part. That would only come later.
I was sitting on the stairs outside tying my shoe. When I was done I looked up and saw my sister and this guy. That was normal, but then I looked at him. Tall, nicely muscled (all her bf's were like that). It was his eyes and his smile that set him aside from the rest. His eyes were warm and green and his smile was friendly and open with big dimples that made the entire world seem like a better place. He had dark brown hair that shone lighter in the sun. He was stunning. I felt a rush of instant powerful attraction.
"Hi little man," he smiled. "Hi," I mumbled, fighting to be unimpressed. I looked down which was a mistake, because the sight of his tan legs in those shorts didn't help any, those thighs should be illegal.
"Agron, are you coming?" my sister asked. She'd ignored me. "Sure, wait up." He ascended the stairs to the door. "Nice meeting you, little man" he said. His voice was a little raspy, quite deep. I felt myself get hard. "Yeah," I nodded. "I guess I'll be seeing you around," he smiled before disappearing through the open door. "Don't count on it," I whispered. I knew my sister. Some new stud would catch her eye next week. I would definitely not be seeing him around for very long.
Turns out I was wrong. I saw him a few times the next week or so. He was over for dinner one day to meet the parents. I guess he thought that was a big deal, but it wasn't. They all came over to meet the parents. During the meal he was charming and polite. His green eyes sparkled and he was smiling most of the time. He even tried to engage me in the conversation a few times, but no one helped him, including me. I was hard as a rock all the time. My mind was flooded with images of kissing him, licking his lips, his ears, smelling his hair, UNFFF.
"So Nasir," he said. Nasir is me, in case I forgot to say. "I guess school started again?" "Yeah," I replied unenthusiastically. "Too bad, huh? Especially with this weather we're having. Can you believe it?" I stared at my plate. Would he please stop drawing attention to me?
"How are your teachers this year?" he persisted, ignoring my sister's efforts to get him to talk about her classes. "OK I guess," I mumbled, still not looking at him. His voice was driving me crazy, but I wanted to run away. "I had one once in algebra, Mr Batiatus. We all hated him. He was a sadist! I used to throw little balled up pieces of paper at him when he had his back turned. Course I got caught." He grinned. "Yeah?" I asked, looking up. My eyes met his, and I felt funny and warm. I couldn't help but smile back at him. He was beautiful. "He called my dad," he continued. His eyes opened slightly wider, never letting go of mine. I was mesmerized. "He started complaining, but my dad just said 'If MY son threw paper at you I guess you had it coming' and hung up." I felt myself grinning. I guess his dad was proud of him or something. I couldn't imagine what that was like.
"I must say," my mother gasped theatrically. "Did he really?" "Oh yes, ma'am." Agron nodded. "He knew him because he taught him when he was in school, you see. He had wanted to do the same." "Well," my dad mumbled. "Algebra is so important, though." "Yes sir," Agron said. "They put me in another class." "And you finished it? What grade did you get?"
Here we go, I thought. I'd long since gone back to staring at my plate. Now my dad would start interrogating him about his grade average etc. Even though we all knew that Agron would be gone next week. Well, all of us except Agron. It had been an exhilarating few moments when Agron talked to me. I felt great. But the low afterwards was as low as the high had been high. I wanted to get out of there. This was a something I didn't want to witness. I excused myself - no one protested - and went to my room. I jacked off because Agron had me hard for a long time, I came all the way to my neck that night.