Adrian chewed on his pen, deep in thought. He liked history, he guessed, but he hated memorizing all the dates. Wars and kings and queens and politicians and inventions and art. It felt like memorizing the entire periodic table of the elements. You did not have to do that in science, which had contrived to have theories that you learned and understood and not just a bunch of weird disconnected facts.
Weird disconnected facts that would be on the test tomorrow.
The doorbell rang, long and loud. He marked his place in his book and got up.
Jamie was lounging by the front door, trying and failing to look effortlessly cool.
"Hi." He came in without waiting to be asked.
"Hi," Adrian said. "I'm really busy."
Jamie took the stairs two at a time. "Well, good for you, then. I'm really bored. I win."
Adrian smiled against his will and followed him up. "We have homework. Lots of homework."
"Your mom is out and you're still doing homework?" Jamie asked. "You're a loser. You need someone to corrupt you to the side of coolness."
They were at the door to Adrian's bedroom. "Which I suppose is your job."
"Do you see anyone better?" Jamie asked with a dramatic sweep of his hand.
"Nearly anyone, I would imagine," Adrian said.
Jamie flopped down theatrically on Adrian's bed. "Yeah, well, the really cool people are all, like, busy smoking pot and having sex and going to glamorous parties with celebrities, so I'm the best you've got."
Adrian eyed his books. But he couldn't say no to Jamie, so he sighed, ran his hand through his hair and sat down on the bed beside him. "We could listen to music," he suggested. "I bought the new Green Day album off iTunes."
"Legally?" Jamie said disbelievingly.
"Yep."
"And you pay, like, actual money?" Jamie said, his eyes wide in faux-surprise.
"Yep."
"You're even more of a loser than I thought."
"Says the guy who's read every interview Pete Wentz ever gave," Adrian said. "Besides, someday I'll be the only person buying music anymore, and I will be able to dictate the music industry with an iron fist."
"Damn straight."
Adrian watched Jamie out of the corner of his eye for a moment. It ashamed him to admit it, but he'd been half-hard since Jamie walked in the room. But that line of thought would only bring him down very distressing lines, so he said, "And then I shall use my control of the music industry to take over the world."
"What?" Jamie said. "Like, backmask 'Adrian is totally awesome, everyone should worship him' in every song?"
"I was thinking using record company executives, for yea verily they are a level of evil I cannot hope to reach in my wildest dreams, to come up with cunning plans to cement my dominion," Adrian said. "But that's cool too."
"I get to be the royal concubine," Jamie said. "It's the only job I'd be good at."
Adrian rolled his eyes. "You think that once I take over the world, I'd still want to make out with you? I'd fuck Angelina Jolie every day and twice on Sundays. You'd be lucky to get my sloppy seconds."
"Why Sundays?" Jamie said, sitting up and full of sudden interest. His carefully gelled hair fell in his eyes. "Is there something particularly seductive about, like, missing church or something?"
"It's just a saying," Adrian said. "Really, I'd fuck her twice every day."
Jamie nodded. "Fair enough." He contemplated Adrian's wall, which had a logarithmic map of the universe pinned next to the Queen poster. "I call Megan Fox."
"You can't call Megan Fox," Adrian said. "What if I want Megan Fox? I'm the dictator here."
"You have Angelina."
"She'd old." Adrian made a face. "What if she's only up for it like once a week?"
Jamie absently played with a stray lock of his hair. "No, dude, I totally get Megan Fox. She's so hot." Adrian watched his hand, hypnotized by the way it moved.
Perhaps it was the hair that was making Adrian so hard. But then, he thought half-hysterically, it couldn't be the hair. He'd made fun of Jamie enough for his concern about it, the "I can't go to the movies, I have to save money for gel" and the "I can't drive with the top down, it'll mess up my hair" and the "I can't hang out, I have a hair appointment". Ghosts of words like "Seriously, Jamie, you're a girl in a guy's body" floated through Adrian's head. No, it couldn't possibly be the hair.
It was that Jamie thought his hair was hot, that even stroking it would drive Adrian out of his mind with lust. It was Jamie's self-satisfied smirk as he lay back on the bed, his arms crossed behind his head and his torso slightly arched, that way he had of being deliberately accidentally sexy. It was Jamie's ridiculous stupidity and his arrogance and that even knowing all of this Adrian's dick was straining out of his jeans.
Adrian found himself saying, "Dude, so not fair."
"What?" Jamie said, although his smirk deepened and Adrian knew that he knew exactly what he was doing.
Adrian gestured wildly then, realizing that neither he nor Jamie knew sign language, said, "That. Use of sex appeal. Totally cheating in the dividing-up-the-world's-hot-girls game."
"There's no rule against it," Jamie said, casually licking his lips.
Adrian stared fixedly at his history textbook. Good history textbook, nice history textbook, very non-erotic history textbook...
"Anyway," Jamie said, "you were using it before I was."
