The Art of Being a F*ck Up

1. The Boy Who Would Be King

Hey, it's me again, Brent Fox. Probably not who you were expecting, I know, but fuck it, let's do this shit. A lot's changed in the past four years, I guess that's inevitable, but, surprisingly, so much has stayed the same too. Senior year in college is already starting to feel a lot like senior year in high school, mostly due to the fact that I honestly don't give a fuck about all the homework I'm supposed to be doing. Sure, there's that part of me that's been slacking off now that it seems kind of pointless when I'm about to graduate, but mostly it's like no matter how hard I try to pay attention I always end up with the same shitty grades anyway. It's not all bad though, being a functional idiot comes with its perks.

"You almost got this one right, you just forgot to adjust the values. Are you listening to me? Stop trying to take your clothes off!" Jonah smacks my arm, a short laugh rolling off his tongue as he tries to get me to focus. You remember my boyfriend Jonah, right? No relationship lasts as long as ours without its ups and downs, but we're going on five years now, and sometimes I think I know him better than he does. Then again, that probably means he knows me better than I know myself too, which is kind of a scary thought.

"Is it hot in here, or is it just me?" I finish pulling off my hoodie before taking a second to flex my arms. He likes my huge biceps. Some things never change, but that's not always bad, even after all these years I'd much rather spend my time between his thighs than anywhere else. He might be pretty hot shit when it comes to calculating values for trigonometric functions, but I have a fucking PhD in Jonah Pierson. I love the way he gets flustered when he can't concentrate, I know just what to do to drive him crazy.

"Brent," he breathes my name, soft and light, giving in as he tilts his head to the side so that I'll have easier access to the spot on his neck just below his jaw. It's sensitive and tender, and I kiss it accordingly. He lays one hand on my face, pulling me closer, but with the other he moves to stop my creeping fingers from getting any further up his leg. Through lips half formed into a coy smile he tries to be reasonable, "we don't have a lot of time to get this done."

"Come on, I need to relax a little before the game later," I say, using football as my excuse, "we'll just have to be quick, won't we?"

"Well that's never been a problem for you." Jonah jokes, thinking he's so funny. He makes me laugh though, the way he always does, but I don't get a chance to say anything in my defense before he plants his mouth firmly over mine. I count down the seconds in my head, confident he's not finished, because that's how well I know him. Three, two, one. He pulls back, "you do realize this is why you're on academic probation, right?"

"Probably." A playful grin crosses my face unintentionally, and then I kiss him roughly. Yeah, some things never change alright—if not for Jonah I probably would've flunked out freshman year, but he's been by my side this whole time, keeping me on track the best he can. He says I focus way too much on partying and football, and truth be told he takes up most of my time, but a guy's got to have priorities, right? It probably broke some kind of record when I got put on probation so early in the year, I mean, hell, we're barely into the semester and I'm already in danger of failing, but I'm not too worried.

College is just a lot different than high school, the work is harder and I can't remember the last time I had more than a second alone to think, but I'm definitely having a lot more fun these days. Honestly I don't know how Jonah does it, he's already got so much going on, it's a wonder he managed to make the time to help me these past couple years. Senior year has already proved to be more of challenge, so I tried getting a tutor but that didn't work out. Oh well, I'll look for another one, but I guess he's stuck with me a little bit longer—not that I'm complaining. He gets up to go lock the door, which is probably a good idea in case his roommate shows up.