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This is my first submission, and I would very much appreciate helpful feedback! It starts a bit slow, but I wanted to really establish these characters and let you guys get a feel for them before we got to the more erotic aspect. I felt that the characters' relationship deserved more than that. This is only Part One. Much more to come!!

Thank you all in advance! xx

The Boy

Remmy: 2007

Why my mother thinks that we need a housekeeper, I will never understand. I am more than capable of taking care of- and cleaning up after- myself. On top of all of that, the idea of somebody anywhere near my things gives me anxiety. So I've told her that my room is strictly off limits. My mother has tried to tell her otherwise, but I think that she's more afraid of me than my mother. I understand why. She once rearranged my desk and I had to count to ten so that I didn't murder her.

But today is different. Today I've decided that maybe the housekeeper can stick around. Today she's brought the boy with her.

Her son is my age- and beautiful. Jackson.

*quot;Jacks,*quot; he corrects her and extends his hand toward me.

What eighteen year old shakes hands?

I don't hesitate to accept his offered hand. His handshake is firm as I introduce myself, *quot;Raymond,*quot; and I'm sure I have a goofy, embarrassed grin on my face as my voice cracks. I have the joys of being a late bloomer.

I take in his appearance as he smiles back at me. He is quite beautiful. His dark hair is a curly mop on the top of his head, it's obvious that he tried to make it look intentional. His skin is lightly tanned, a smattering of freckles is dusted over his cheeks and nose. His smile is genuine, showing off his braced teeth. The cosmetic necessity is quite adorable. Then I meet his eyes. They're a blue that I've only ever seen in a box of crayons- never on a person. They are warm and friendly.

Beautiful.

His mother says something that pulls his attention elsewhere. He takes his hand from mine, and I am suddenly mortified that I've held it this long. I go back to my homework at the bar as his mother introduces him to my mother, who has just arrived home. I take the opportunity to take in the rest of him. He's tall- probably around my height. His build is slim, but athletic. That explains the tan.

I notice, with some surprise, that he is very well dressed. A navy sweater that looks to be cashmere over a polo button up. His jeans are designer. His loafers are spotless.

How much do we pay his mother?

I notice- with even more embarrassment- that his eyes are on me. They hold an emotion that I'm not completely familiar with. Appreciation?

No.

Later I'm cross legged in front of the T.V. My attention is completely consumed with my game. I'm completely oblivious to the approaching Jackson, who plops himself beside me without hesitation. I startle and end up dying.

*quot;Fuck!*quot; I turn to snap at my distraction, but forget my rage when I see the grin on his face.

He pulls off my headset. The kind has balls.

*quot;I didn't know that you gamed,*quot; he sounds mystified.

*quot;Why would you,*quot; I snap, finding some of my forgotten rage, *quot;We've known each other for about two seconds.*quot;

He scoffs, *quot;are you kidding? I've known you as long as my mom has worked here,*quot; at my confused expression he adds, *quot;she doesn't have many friends- and likes to talk a lot.*quot;

I shake my head and snatch my headset from him. Cute or not, he cost me a kill.

*quot;Can I join?*quot;

I look at him, a bit leery. I'm not exactly polite when it comes to competition.

He scoffs at me again, his expression takes on arrogance, *quot;unless you're too scared....*quot;

I bark a laugh, *quot;Not hardly,*quot; I assure him before getting up to get the spare controller. When I turn back to throw it at him, I immediately notice where his line of sight was rested- my ass. But, I've turned around. So now he's eye level with my crotch. His eyes snap up to mine, and a flush covers his face- mirroring mine, I'm sure. But he doesn't look the least bit ashamed to have gotten caught.

I quickly toss him the controller and join him back on the floor before I have time to over think.

*quot;Prepare to get your ass whipped,*quot; I joke in an attempt to lighten the mood.

I could very well be insane- I almost hope that I was hearing things. But I could very well swear on my life that his response was 'with pleasure.' But his voice was too low for me to be one hundred percent certain.

Hours passed as if it had only been a few minutes. I learned more about the beautiful boy next to me than I ever had about my closest friend. He opened up to me like a well read novel, and I very much enjoyed what I read. His birthday put him in the class beneath mine, but he was at the top of it- he goes to my rival school across town. His GPA is above a 4.0 because of the AP classes that fill his schedule. He plays starting varsity baseball and soccer. He wants to attend USC and major in film, or English- he has yet to make up his mind. He loves classic novels, Hardy and Dickens. His favorite bands are a long list Kadıköy travesti of names I've never heard. He's the first in line at ever Harry Potter and Marvel midnight premiere. His mother would prefer that he pick a more practical hobby- there's the choice to play sports that he couldn't be less interested in. She would also prefer that he pick a more practical major, like business. But his heart isn't in it. His soul is kind, and he's earnest, and passionate. He's also managed to make me laugh harder than I knew that I could.

*quot;Well that was embarrassing,*quot; I laugh as he manages to completely massacre me at my favorite game. I'm not actually upset. Usually I'd be pissed, but that was the most pleasurable string of losses that I have ever had the pleasure of taking. I'd be more than happy to lose a thousand more times if it meant that I could spend more time with Jackson.

The Interview

Remmy: 2017

My suit jacket and slacks are a slightly different shade of black, and I know it, but you can't tell in the mirror. I'm hoping that nobody else would notice. I simply didn't have the money to rent a matching suit on such short notice. So I just worked with what I had. I search the pits of my memory to figure out how to knot my tie properly. After about ten failed attempts, I end up just Googling it. The result is passable at best.

It doesn't matter. I've run out of time, and I still need to get a cab.

You'd figure that in the city with about a million cabs, it would be a little bit easier to get one. But for ever one cab, there's about five people trying to hail it. The one with the littlest regard for the feelings of others gets to be on time to wherever it is that they are constantly rushing off to. In this case, it only took me two tries before I was too pissed to lose the little game.

I arrive to Monroe and Associates exactly early enough to make a good impression without looking like a brown nosing asshole. The building is sleek and modern on the outside, but dated and inviting on the inside; nothing like I expected. M