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PG-18 Red Roses

Jester

Can we pretend airplanes are shooting stars?
Jone frowned. "That's really Another Brick In The Wall-ish," he said, quietly enough the teacher probably couldn't hear. But then again, who was he to judge? "About me asking for advil earlier," the vampire said as an afterthought, "I have really bad migraines, mostly because all the medication I'm on. It's kind of a thing in the classroom for me to beg people for advil and them to act like Jesus for giving it to me." He was the classroom joke, but he didn't really mind it. It was a good joke and it kept everyone's spirits up.

When the teacher rushed off to check on the hamster, Jone nearly died on the spot. First off, he'd been sure the hamster would have come back as a vampire, so there was abso-bloody-lutley no reason for the little shit to be so...deadish. Jone stole a peak at the dogs, just to make sure they were where he’d last left them. He didn’t want the devil spawns jumping at his throat.
 

Saiga

You bet your Rom Tom Bottom!
"O-oh.. oh.." HIs mood had quickly changed. He felt terrible for calling Jone out in the middle of class without knowing his story. The boy was hurting, inside and out. "I'm sorry.. I didn't mean to embarrass you like that- and without even knowing what's wrong?! God I'm awful!" He held his head in his hands for a moment before turning his blue eyes toward Jone. "I am SO sorry."

"Aren't you just a sleepy little- YOUCH!" The man jumped back, gripping the hand he had previously cut, the wound sloppily wrapped in paper towels. He examined his hand and was shocked to find blood dripping from his finger tip. He closed his hand tightly in a fist and looked towards his hamster.
"Fuzz Butt," he whined. "That huuuuuuurt!" He looked hurt, emotionally hurt. It was clear his small friend had never bitten him before. He glanced at his hand before leaving to stick a bandaid on his bite.
 

Jester

Can we pretend airplanes are shooting stars?
"Dude, chill," Jone replied, alarmed beyond reason by the teacher's reaction. "I'm fine. You're fine. Everyone's fine. Don't worry about it, okay?" Now he felt bad. This is a bleedin mess... Jone slid off the chair he'd sat down on and went over to the teacher, intending to pat him on the back, or something. Yeah, right. "It's good to know you weren't being a dick on purpose," Jone grinned, tucking a stray black strand of hair behind his ear. I really needa do something about this hair. It's always sticking up everywhere.

The vampire actually jumped at the teacher's cry of pain. He rounded the corner to where Mr. Grace's voice came from, and found the older looking man clutching his hand, seeming more heartbroken than anything else. Dude, what the fuck? He went over and picked up the hamster, which, by the way, was starting to look a lot less gray than he'd been before. Besides making people horny, his venom also knocked a few years off the pole. "Dude, not cool," he hissed at Fuzz But, which was the most ridiculous name in the history of names. He dropped the hamster back into his ball like a sack of potatoes, ignoring the growled protests from the furry animal. "He must have eaten some of the waldsbane in your back yard," the vampire told Mr.Grace. "It tends to make them a bit nuts..."
 

Saiga

You bet your Rom Tom Bottom!
Mr. Grace clutched his hand and blinked away the tears in his eyes. He had Fuzz Butt since he was born. His wife's brother had a family of hamsters, and for their wedding gift, the brother gave a tiny Fuzz Butt to Mr. Grace. He loved the hamster almost as much as he loved Mrs. Grace and his dogs.
Thinking about his pet brought more tears to his eyes. He used his good hand to wipe his tears. "No.. he's just getting old.. and I think he saw the grave I dug for him in the back yard.." He whispered that last part, as the rabid hamster was colliding with his leg inside the ball. He attempted to scoot the writhing ball away, but the hamster just came back with intent to kill.
"Oh dear.. I might just have t-" Ding Dong! "PIZZA!" Immediately dropping the conversation, the teacher ran to answer the door. While he was distracted, his dogs stared daggers at Jone. They seemed to be aware of what he had done, and they wanted him to fix it.
 

Jester

Can we pretend airplanes are shooting stars?
Jone slowly backed away from the dogs. "Stop judging me," he grumbled. "Look, I'll deal with it. I thought he'd rather have it alive, but I guess not." He bent over to pick up the hamster, smacking it over the head when it attempted to bite him. "Chill it," he hissed. "Vampire blood is nasty as hell, believe you me." He gingerly grabbed his head and with a quick jerking motion broke the creature's neck. It wen limp in his hand. "Sorry dude," he murmured, setting it's neck back in place. It was very clearly dead, and with little pain at that.

"Happy?" he asked the dogs, setting it back in it's ball. "We good now?"
 

Saiga

You bet your Rom Tom Bottom!
The dogs glared at the vamp until he did his due. Their fixed stare told him that the problem was yet to be solved, but it was something to deal with later as their master returned with a box of pizza, wings, and bread sticks.
"Alright! Dinner is served!" Mr. Grace happily plopped down the boxes of food and fetched two plates. "I got the basics: Cheese pizza, plain wings with dippings, and sticks of cheesy and cinnamon flavor!" He sat down at the dining table and gestured to a chair near him. "Come on then! Let's eat!"
 

Jester

Can we pretend airplanes are shooting stars?
Jone smiled as he sat down on the chair the wrong way. "Thank you," he grinned. "You have a thing for cheese, don't you?" As they ate, Jone watched the teacher, still trying to puzzle the man out. "So...what's up with the dogs?" the vampire asked. "Not that they're not adorable, or anything. But like, I think they're currently devising a plan to kill me in my sleep." Like they did to everyone in the area. The motherfuckers are seriously creepy. "How come there's no Mrs.Grace? Also...do you have wifi? I want to get out of your hair tomorrow, so I should probably start looking at shelters after we eat."
 

Saiga

You bet your Rom Tom Bottom!
"Oh don't mind them," Mr. Grace replied as he tossed a bread stick towards the dogs. The two canines wrestled (much to Mr. Grace's amusement) until they figured out how to share. "They're just anxious, one's blind and the other is deaf. So whenever someone new comes around, they're on guard.
He was about to bite into his pizza he had rolled up and dipped into ranch, but then Jone mentioned his wife. Oh right his expression seemed to read. "Well, while I didn't want to go off and fight, she did." He sat back and gazed at his wedding band. "I'm sure she's having fun in another country somewhere." He chuckled and finished his slice of pizza, but it came back as strong coughs when Jone mentioned shelters.
"WHAT- cough cough -a shelter?!" He snatched the 2 liter fruit punch and poured it into a cup before gulping it down. This seemed to ease his coughs enough to let him speak. "I have a guest bedroom and blankets! Shelters are.. uh.. whatever. You'd be better off here rather than outside watching your back. I'll watch and wash your back!"
 

Jester

Can we pretend airplanes are shooting stars?
Jone threw them a terrified look. He didn't enjoy looking at their wickedly sharp teeth as they tore into the slice of pizza. "They seriously make up for that in uglyness," he muttered. As he subtly moved his chair away from them, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He didn't want to check, just because, you know, manners, but nobody ever really texted him. Sure, he had everybody's Instagram, but people rarely cared enough to reply to his messages. Oh, except Crimson. Jone's friend was the big exception. They would sometimes text back and forth for hours, talking about chicks, dudes, and anything in between. "Your wife sounds like a badass. Were you like, part of the army, or something? Fbi? Npd?"

Jone sorta pulled back at the teacher's over the fucking top reaction. "Dude," he said as anxiety took a big bite out of his mood. "Listen, I really appreciate the offer, but I can't stay with you forever. It doesn't look good on paper, and it doesn't look good socially. Like, there's a reason teachers are advised to never be alone in a room with students." Jone squirmed uncomfortably. "Like, I wanted to be a teacher at one point, so I researched this stuff. And don't get me wrong, I am incredibly grateful for your hospitality, but this place is in the middle of nowhere. I walked five k in each direction and I couldn't find a pharmacy, dude."
 

Saiga

You bet your Rom Tom Bottom!
"Mm, but I'm not a teacher," Mr. Grace said sipping at his fruity juice. "I'm just a temporary replacement until your teacher gets well enough to come back on her own, that's all." He sat his cup down and focused his eyes onto Jone's. "If you're uncomfortable, tell me. Just say the word, and I'll drop you off at the nearest motel with enough money to get you by for a few weeks." That wasn't the most he could do, he could really buy the kid his own apartment and leave it at that, but he didn't want to make him any more uncomfortable than he already was.
 

Jester

Can we pretend airplanes are shooting stars?
"I didn't ask you for money, my guy." Jone took a bite off his pizza, trying very hard not to think about how he'd throw it up in a few days. Vampires and food didn't mix well. Like, ever. "I really appreciate all that you've done for me, and I dunno how I can repay you, since there's a very limited number of things I can do without fucking up."
 

Saiga

You bet your Rom Tom Bottom!
"All I want is for you to continue your education, graduate, and make me proud!" That bright smile was back on his face as he spoke. "I know you can do good June-Jone-July-" Yay.. nicknames. "You just.. need a gentle push. A good shove. And I'll shove if I need to darn it!" He was very passionate about the helping Jone. The boy's teacher, when he visited her at the ER, told him that Jone was difficult and unruly, but Mr. Grace didn't see that at all. He just saw a troubled young adult..
The teacher sighed, his glory high dropping, and gestured to a door in the hall. There's my office. You can use the computer if you want to while I clean up. Without another word, he began picking up boxes and moving them to the oven since they still had food in them. He took cups and plates and began washing them in the sink.
 

Jester

Can we pretend airplanes are shooting stars?
Jone snickered. Yeah, he was a bad student. He talked back to teachers when they pissed him off, and never did the homework they didn't check. But that didn't mean he had bad grades. All his tests had nearly perfect scores, and he was the one doing all non electronic work in group projects. Every single time, he carried way more than his fair share of work. "Ya know, I'm not as bad at school as you imagine...I'm just severely allergic to authority and government issued propaganda"

"Oh dude, you're so awesome. Thanks a lot." He went to pat the the man on the back, but stopped right before he could touch him. Yeah, that's not appropriate. He sighed and settled to help the guy with cleaning up the table. "Look, if it makes you feel better, I'll try to find some place close to school. That way I won't fail."
 

Saiga

You bet your Rom Tom Bottom!
Mr. Grace simply shook his head with a small chuckle. He didn't really want to show his true feelings towards the way the young boy was acting. Why was so OK with staying out in the cold like that? Why didn't he want to find some place better than some poor shelter? Well, where ever he goes, the teacher was going to support him any way he could whether it's with money, helping him with his grades, or whatever.
The dogs glared Jone's way as he entered Mr. Grace's office. The room was simple: A desk, a computer, a book shelf, a printer, and a large poster of a cartoon hamster eating ramen noodles. There didn't seem to be much pertaining to the man character besides that dumb poster hanging on the wall. Sitting down at the desk, Jone saw that the computer was already on, showing a page that showed slight concern.
"HOW TO TELL THAT YOUR HAMSTER IS GETTING OLD." The screen was full of hamsters of all shapes, sizes, and color with each of them having a characteristic of old age. It seemed that Mr. Grace really was preparing to bury Furry Butt. Poor guy.. Even a piece of paper that had notes on the subject showed markings of dried tears. He was not ready to part with him..
 
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Jester

Can we pretend airplanes are shooting stars?
After making sure Grace wasn’t looking, he discreetly flipped the dogs off. If they could glare at him, he could give them the bird. It seemed fair, right? The vampire slipped into Mr.Grace’s office, his face falling at the sight of the open browser. This sucks so bad.

“Nice poster,” Jone hollered, trying to distract himself from the neatly written notes regarding the teacher’s hamster. First thing tomorrow, Mr.Grace was getting a new hamster. One that would live long and liven up the teacher’s depressing life. Because oh man, Jone would have offed himself a long time ago if he’d been in the dude’s position. He pressed down the keys ‘ctrl’, ‘shift’ and ‘n’ at the same time and opened an incognito tab, searching up nearby animal shelters and sellers. It was about ten minutes in that he found a dude. Newborn, vaccinated hamsters, fifty bucks one. One box of anti-depressants was 150 bucks. Jone found the hamster a much better alternative. Plus, it was the long living type. A Roborovski dwarf hamster. He couldn’t even pronounce that. He didn’t even try. After emailing the dude, he closed the incognito tab before Mr.Grace could walk in on him. Moving on the shelters.

Two hours of searching later, Jone set his head on the desk, defeated. All the shelters, and he meant, a l l the shelters demanded you were 18. And considering he’d stopped aging at 17, there was very little he could do. “Okay, so what do you know about makeup?” he asked Mr.Grace as he came back in the living room. “I kinda needa pass for 18 to be accepted into shelters…” BUT. If he even put on a dash of makeup, he would stop passing as a dude. Already, he was on very thin ice.
 

Saiga

You bet your Rom Tom Bottom!
Mr. Grace looked up from where he had sat on the couch. His dogs were asleep at his feet, and he ha placed Fuzz Butt back into his cage (most likely thinking the rodent was asleep). At some point during the two hours of Jone's search for a shelter, Mr. Grace had changed into a set of stripped pajamas with fuzzy slippers. The man looked cozy and relaxed.
"Make-up you say?" The teacher pondered for a moment. "Well.. the only thing I know about it is that ladies love it, and queens love it even more." He raised an eyebrow, those blue eyes scanning Jone's features. "Why? Don't tell me you're going to make yourself look older because you don't meet the requirements. Just spend the night here! Does my house really smell that bad??" He gestured to a few candled he had lit and placed on the coffee table. "I promise it doesn't always smell like burnt dinner!" He stood and clasped his hands together in a gesture of begging. "Jone.. please. It's dangerous out there.."
 

Jester

Can we pretend airplanes are shooting stars?
“Awww. The little hellhounds are asleep.” Jone smirked at their lifeless forms. He started speaking in that annoying dog owner voice everyone hated. “Not so badass now, are you? No you’re not. You are good boys now…” His karma was gonna be so bad for that one. He could already see the dogs jumping at his throat later.

After a few seconds of staring at Mr.Grace’s cozy figure, Jone sunk in the nearest chair, making sure he was sitting in a ‘cis dude’ way before managing to relax. “It’s not your house, man,” he reassured the teacher. The way he was staring at him was starting to freak him out. “I am just a horrible room mate. I can’t sleep, so I walk around. And when I do manage to pass out, I have night terrors. I’ve been told I tried to choke someone, in my sleep. I have really bad mood swings when I’m off my meds, and I’ve gotten suspended several times for getting violent. And it turns out you’re an actually decent person. I don’t want to hurt you.” After a few minutes of silent consideration, Jone sighed. Those weren’t the reasons he was uncomfortable. “I also haven’t figured out why you’re doing this, yet. Usually people are easier to decipher. And you’re just…you. I haven’t figured out what makes you tick.”
 

Saiga

You bet your Rom Tom Bottom!
"Psssh! Please!" The man laughed loud and hard, rousing the dogs from their sleep. The canines glared at him before returning to their slumber.
"For years I've woken up to either a blade at my throat, tied to a tree, or buried underground. And that was before I went to boot camp." He cross his arms over his chest, showing just enough muscle on his biceps to show that his words just might be true. "Your talk does not scare me."

"Tick? I'm ticking?!" The teacher started to frantically pat and search his body as if he was looking for his lost keys. "I knew my body was a bit rough, but not so bad that I would tick!" After delivering his line, he settled with a laugh that caused the dogs at his feet to stir. It seemed like he wasn't taking Jone too seriously, but still he spoke to him.
"Jone my boy, there's not much that you can say that will keep me from helping you, but I understand if you're uncomfortable in a stranger's home- now that I understand." He sat back down on the couch and pointed to his backpack sitting at the dinner table. "Whatever cash you find in there could do you good. I like to carry money on me just in case I see something. Take what you want, not what you don't. I'll take you to the nearest motel and be out your hair. How does that sound?"
 

Jester

Can we pretend airplanes are shooting stars?
“Ummm?????” Okay so he’s either delusional, or ten times more badass than I thought. Or both. Dude had a rad set of arms. “So…are you like…a ninja, then? Do you work for the cops? Oh shit…Is this about the drug charges last year, because I swear I’ve been clean for months. Okay, not months. Weeks. Um. I haven’t done drugs this week…” Jone inwardly kicked himself. Why would the dude work for the cops? He’d invited him onto his home, fed him, and apologized for being a dickhead in class. If that wasn’t hospitality, what was? “Actually, do you want drugs? Is that what this is?” Jone paused. “I’m digging myself a bigger hole with each word that comes out of my mouth, aren’t I?” The vampire had to hand it to Mr.Grace. He was good at interrogation.

Jone groaned when the dude started petting himself. “Dude, you know that’s not what I meant. Although feel free to continue, I’m enjoying the view.” The second the words were out of Jone’s mouth he wished he could take them back. “I’m so sorry. No filter here. None whatsoever. Please ignore that. I’m taking it back.” Dude, what the actual fuck? Yeah, you’re older than him, but he’s still your teacher! Chill, man.

“I’m not digging through your bag, man. What I will do, however, is go take my chest binder off, because my ribs feel like they are gonna cave in…” Jone slowly climbed to his feet, wincing as he did so. “You probably already know this, since I don’t pass very well. I’m trans. And, um. I’ve got some really bad dysphoria. And I would really appreciate if you didn’t like…make jokes about my…chest, yeah? Parents and teachers do that sometimes, and I know you guys don’t realize this, but it sucks.”
 

Saiga

You bet your Rom Tom Bottom!
Mr. Grace frowned at the mention of drugs. It wasn't an angry look, but one that showed disappointment. It was clear he had expected better of Jone, and not see him in anything negative like drugs or gang activity. "Oh please tell me you're joking.." He shook his head. "You should really stay away from drugs. They can stunt your growth, make you not smart, and kill you even!" He immediately changed his tone after that last statement. "But I only read that on the internet! So who knows if it's true!"

The comment on his appearance seemed to have gone over his head. It seems as if he didn't understand what it had meant. Whether that's good or bad is up to the vamp. He did, however, catch onto the mention of the chest binder. HIs mood changed, but it wasn't very clear of what it was. His face was a mixture of concern, sympathy, remorse, but his eyes were unclear.
"Why would you just tell me something like that," he asked. He wasn't upset, just confused. "It's that something you usually keep a secret, especially around strangers? But I guess that mean you trust me enough to tell me.. right?" He shook his had before mentally and physically slapping himself. "Of course not! You're just opened about it! Sorry! Go make yourself comfortable. I'll be right here."
 
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