Trace The Tattoo -- Shawn/Minkus

[A Moment In Subtext]

Boy Meets World
Trace The Tattoo
By. A Moment In Subtext

By all accounts of logic and reason, Stuart Minkus should have hated Shawn Hunter. He knew it, he felt that hatred boiling just under the surface. But for some reason, he couldn't force it up. He couldn't stop the grudging admiration for the other boy's confidence, even in stupidity. Nor could he help the attraction he felt when he looked at him. But he knew enough of life, and statistics, to keep this to himself. So everyday, he put on a mask of hatred and superiority, and tried to survive.
He knew that when Shawn asked to see the press-on tattoo for a second time, eh should have said no. He most certainly shouldn't have invited him over after school. He knew, but couldn't stop himself. He knew he shouldn't have locked to door to his room. He really knew he shouldn't have layed down on his bed and let Shawn sit on his hips to see it in the right light. And when Shawn asked if he couldn't touch it, he absolutely, positively should not have flippantly suggested that he trace the whole thing.
But he had, and now he was locked his his room, with Shawn Hunter sitting on his hips, his extremely talented fingers dancing over every pressed-on line. His eyes had fluttered closed near the beginning and hadn't opened since, and each line that Shawn traced left a burning trail on his skin that made him twist the blanket beneath his hands into bunches. Shawns fingers moved suddenly over a line that caused them to brush lightly agains the side of his nipple. He unconsciously leaned into the touch and sucked a breath in through his teeth. Shawns fingers stilled.
Stuart slowly forced his eyes open and looked up to meet Shawns's suddenly intelligent eyes.
"Well, well, well," Shawn said, sounding amused. "You wanna know what I think? I think you're enjoying this."
"What?" Stuart asked, slightly disconnectedly.
"You heard me." Shawn said, leaning forward so his face was level to Stuarts. "I think its turning you on."
"I assure you," Stuart said, with as much dignity as he could manage. "I have no idea what you are talking about."
"Oh, really?" Shawn asked. Then he gently tweaked one of Stuarts nipples, causing him to arch his back and gasp, his mouth forming a perfect 'oh' that Shawn couldn't help but take advantage of. He pulled back a couple of seconds later, collapsing half on top of Stuart. "God, thats hot," He murmured. "I didn't think you could be that hot. No offense."
"None taken." Stuart said weakly, only half aware that it was the only time Shawn had ever said something and not meant offense by it.
But before they could discuss anything further, Mrs. Minkus knocked on the door and informed them that it was time for Shawn to go home.
The next day in school, Stuart put on his mask twice as strong as usual. He knew the statistics better than the man who wrote them, it was safer this way. But there was a part of him that had a masochistic streak, and that was the part that was controlling the mask. And he knew it.