--Rory and Sebastian are in their final year of high school and above the age of 18--
There's a line in one of Rory's favorite books when one of the characters looks back on the happiest time of his life and says that, in his memory, that time is always summer. I don't know why that line stuck with me, because I personally wasn't a big fan of the book, but "always summer" remained in my head for years to come. That is how I remember the time between just after Valentine's Day and the end of our summer exams. Even though it definitely was not always summer and the weather in February was actually pretty shit that year, to be perfectly honest. But the point is, I guess, that for Rory and I, it was the summer.
*
"Baby, what happened to your head?" I asked. It was the first thing I noticed when I saw him walking into school one Wednesday morning: a big, angry bruise in the middle of his forehead. "Did you fall?"
"Are you serious?" he asked, witheringly.
"What?"
"It's my ash for Ash Wednesday," he laughed. "You get anointed with ash to mark the start of Lent. 'Sack-cloth and ashes.'"
"Don't look so smug, dick face. How the hell was I supposed to know that?"
"Hmm.. that's true. You are a big, fat, heretic."
"If I called you that, you'd shoot me," I rebutted.
"If you called me a heretic, you'd deserve it," he teased. Deliberately misunderstanding which adjective I'd been referring to.
I laughed and flung my arm around his shoulder.
"So what did you give up?"
"Sex."
I tripped slightly. Not quite like the inner-ear-problems-level-of-imbalance of Bella Swann or Anastasia Steele, but still, there was a definite jolt. I stared at him in mute horror. If he'd actually decided to give sex up for the month-plus of Lent, I was fucked. (And I use that word ironically, obviously.) I didn't really like the odds of trying to pit myself against God in Rory's affections and see who came out on top.
"Are you shitting me?" I asked.
"Look. I know you don't necessarily understand the whole Catholic thing. But it's Lent, Sebastian. It's the season of penitence; we're supposed to give things up for the forty days. To prove ourselves. Perhaps I'm being silly and taking it too far..."
"You think?!"
"... but I haven't done Lent properly in a while and I feel that I really, really should. Besides, it's only for forty days and I hope that if you love me, you'll support me in this. Please?"
"Rory... I mean, I ... are you really, actually, genuinely serious about this?"
"No, of course I'm not serious," he scoffed. "I gave up chocolate. But your face! See you after class."
As he sailed into his homeroom giggling to himself, there were times were I thought I might one day have to kill him.
*
That afternoon, when we were upstairs chilling in my bedroom, Rory and I began making out. Everybody was out -- with Jenny at after-school clubs and Mom and Dad still at work. I started to give Rory some of my best work; the stuff I knew really turned him on. I moved over to lie on top of him, pressing down on him with my weight and letting him feel how excited I was getting through my school trousers. I trailed slightly-hard, possessive kisses down his neck and began unbuttoning his shirt, whilst gently stroking his crotch with my fingers. When his shirt was open, I twisted his nipples and then began unbuckling his belt. I could feel how hard he was and his back kept arching up off the bed in frustrated desire. I unzipped his fly; slowly and sensually tugged his underwear down and watched as that beautiful dick of his leapt free. I hovered my face over it and Rory put his hands on my head, tugging on my hair slightly.
"Alright, zip up," I said, sitting up between his legs and give him a light smack on the side of his ass.
His head rose from the pillow and I've never in my entire life seen anyone so confused or surprised. "Did you hear the car?"
"Nope," I answered. "This is payback for your little Lenten sex joke earlier, baby."
"Pardon!"
I smirked and lowered myself down over him, pressing my nose against his: "Like for like, fucker. You tease me; I tease you." I kissed him on the lips. "Zip up."
I hopped off the bed and he propped himself up on the bed -- shirt open, pants down by his knees and boner slightly deflating. "Are you actually going to leave me here, semi-naked, and like THIS?!"
I bounced a little on my feet and slapped my hands together. I was very, very pleased with my prank.
"Yup!"
"Do you know what this is going to do to my mental health?" he gasped. "Maybe I'll just start making myself sick again? It'd be your fault."
I pointed at him, half-seriously. "Hey! It is still way too soon for that to be funny, Ror-Ror."
He sighed and rolled his eyes. I loved playing with him, because he always played back. But there was no way he could win this round. I had definitely beaten him and I was feeling very cocky about it. From the losers' gallery in the bed, Rory stared at me, with a keen and calculating look his eyes. They were sparkling with plotting his next move. Then, I saw the flash as he figured out what to do.