Jinx: So here's a new story. This one's about a teacher and student, and boy does it get gruesome.

Summary: De'Angelo Massina is a fourteen-year-old mute that no one even bothers to try and talk to anymore. He finds that there is no escape to what he thinks is well-deserved punishment, that is, until their new psychology teacher comes along and chases all of De'Angelo's demons away. [Yaoi]

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Chapter One: Pariah

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De'Angelo Massina got up at about six o'clock in the morning. He stretched his thin arms into the air and yawned cutely, crawling out of his warm covers, which, though slightly uncomfortable, were all he had.

De'Angelo didn't even have a bed; he slept on the floor in between two sleeping bags, without so much as a pillow. But he really didn't care about things like that; De'Angelo didn't care about ANYTHING.

The child went into the bathroom, took a cold shower (they didn't have hot water anymore), jumped out, and got dressed in a pair of baggy, extremely worn blue jeans, a black wife-beater, and a hoodie.

Oh, and don't forget his gray beanie hat. De'Angelo NEVER went anywhere without his hat. The only time the child even had it off was when he showered. Even in school, where the dress code strictly said no hats, he still wore it, unbothered by any of the teachers.

"What's up, De?" his best friend, a rather muscled black man named Sean asked. "You look like hell, man!"

De'Angelo just waved his hand, saying nothing. Not that he ever did.

^ ^ ^

Jake Manning's first encounter with De'Angelo Massina was so brutal that he contemplated never coming back to school again. But as the new teacher, it wasn't as if he could just pack up and leave, now was it?

Earlier that day, the principal had come in and introduced the new staff member, who got a lot of interesting looks when he entered the room. Many of the girls were looking at him as if he were the finest thing on earth, while the guys just looked like they thought he was cool with his shirt untucked, no tie, and completely laid back look.

The only person who didn't look happy to see him was a boy in the back of the room, in the far corner, as far away as humanly possible from the rest of the class. De'Angelo. And the child just stared at him through blank, hating eyes that made Jake want to curl up into a ball right then and there. But he didn't.

"Class, this is your new teacher, Mr. Manning," the principal, a rather old looking lady with many wrinkles told the class. "He will be teaching you for the remainder of the nine weeks, and if we're lucky, he'll be here next year too."

With that, the lady turned and went back to her office, leaving Jake to his psychology class.

Jake walked up to his desk, set his black briefcase on it, and sat down in the chair, looking around at the only class he would be teaching for this year, though he was being paid more than he could have ever imagined for it. This was the well beyond advanced class, and he had expected a bunch of nerds. But sitting right before him were a bunch of cheerleaders, football and basketball players, and one freak: De'Angelo.

Jake's eyes connected with the strange child's and he smiled politely, not having one inkling of what else he was supposed to do. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a pretty young lady's hand shoot up into the air.

"Yes, Ms?" he asked.

"I'm Mali Iovine, just so you know," the girl said. "And I just wanted to tell you that you shouldn't bother with De'Angelo Massina, he's literally a mute. He won't talk, and half the time he doesn't respond."

"Right," Jake said, studying the child still. "Why not?"

The girl shrugged. "How should I know?"

Jake smiled and shrugged his shoulders. "All right then, let's-oh I don't feel like doing any work today . . . Why don't we just do something stupid, like talk? We can get to know each other or something."

Mali's hand shot up in the air. "Can we put our desks in a circle?"

"Um . . . go for it," Jake said passively, watching as everyone got up and turned their desks to make a giant circle.

Most of the girls seemed all for the idea, though a few of them glared at Mali at little, and pretty much all of the boys didn't seem to give a shit one way or the other. They didn't have to do any class work, so they didn't really care.

Only one of the kids didn't move.


"Mr. Massina," Jake said shortly. "Please at least be kind enough to move bit closer to where everyone else is. I'm not going to force you to speak, but class participation will be mandatory."

De'Angelo just stared at him.

"Now," Jake commanded, still passively. But De'Angelo still didn't move.

Jake sighed and stood up, slowly walking to the back of the classroom, where Massina sat, staring at him through angry eyes. "Come on," Jake said quietly, looking at De'Angelo with pleading eyes. "Just cooperate with me a little bit here. You know I don't know you, and I don't understand anything about you, and so on and so forth, but give me a break. I've only been in here for five minutes. I just wanna get this class over with. It's only nine weeks, kiddo. Just put up with me for nine weeks, and then it'll all be over, and you'll never have to so much as look at me again. Please?"

De'Angelo turned his head away from Jake in a snobbish way that almost made Jake laugh. The only reason he didn't laugh was because he knew better. He had dealt with someone just like this kid before, and the results hadn't been too pretty. So he gave up and walked back to the front of the class.

"Don't look so put-out," Mali said soothingly. "He's impossible."

Jake looked thoughtful for a moment. "Okay, so this really wasn't the kind of start I was hoping for. But I guess a beginning is a beginning. We'll move on now." Jake looked around the circle. "Anyone want to start for me and just tell a little about yourself, like your name, things you like, whatever."

Mali raised her hand, which didn't seem to surprise Jake in the least. "Shoot," he said.

"I'm Mali, not that anyone doesn't know that by now," she started, "and I'm sixteen, a cheerleader and a basketball player. I do clubs and stuff, and I really like school . . . well, most of the time. Um . . . I like pop music and dancing. And that's about it."

Jake smiled. "That's a good start. Mostly everyone in the world starts with facts when they tell about themselves, did you know that?"

After going around in a circle and getting to know everyone, Jake let the class do as they pleased for the rest of the period, which was a double period, not that he really minded. They seemed to be a good bunch of kids, and he started to think that teaching them wouldn't be such a bad thing.

"De," Jake said, not realizing that he hadn't finished the kid's name. De'Angelo looked up at him expectantly, as if to ask what it was he wanted. "Since you seem to think that you don't need to participate in class, I want you to write me a short paper, like a paragraph or so about yourself, got it? I don't expect a New York Times Bestseller here, but it better be good. If you're in this class, there's no way you're stupid, so I better get something worth my time. Okay?"

De'Angelo just stared at him for a moment before he stood up, grabbed his bag and left the room, leaving Jake stunned and confused.

"He does that if he thinks you talk too much," a tall, very muscled black teenager said, grinning. "And don't worry, he'll give you your paper, plus some. He's awesome. You'll see."

"You know him?" Jake asked, looking at the black kid.

"Yeah, I know him. I knew him when we were just little."

"Did he talk then?"

"Not much," the teenager said.

"Sean, right?" Jake asked, seeing the black kid nod.

"Hey, tell me if he gives you trouble, all right? He's not a bad kid; he just likes it better when you leave him to himself, but if he's going to go and be a prick about it, you just give me a shout and I'll set him straight." Sean smiled. "'Sides, I think he likes you."

Jake raised an eyebrow. "Right. He's making me feel like the worst teacher on earth and then some, and you say he likes me. Hate to see what he does to those he doesn't like."

"Beats 'em up," Sean responded. "Most of them end up in critical condition, but no one's died yet. Who knew a little uke could be so violent, huh?"

"What's a uke?"

Sean just laughed.

^ ^ ^

The next day, about five minutes before class started (the kids at this school got ten minutes in between periods) De'Angelo Massina entered the psychology classroom alone, watching the new teacher, Jake Manning, with interest.

The man looked to be going through the psychology book and marking only the pages he thought were useful, or interesting, one of the two, and De'Angelo didn't know which, but he assumed the latter.

Jake wasn't bad looking, with dark blonde hair and rich, small brown eyes. He stood about 5'9" and was thin, beautiful. De'Angelo on the other hand was short, at 4'11" and was thin, but not underfed, or at least he didn't LOOK underfed. He had large black eyes and short black curls that were hidden under his gray beanie hat.

Massina cleared his throat, waiting patiently for Jake to take notice of him. When the man looked up he smiled.

"Morning, Angel," he said pleasantly, not being able to hold back a laugh at the sour face that Massina put on. "What have you got there?"

De'Angelo put a book on Jake's desk that read "Pariah- New York Times Best Seller 2000," and his mouth dropped.

"I said that it didn't have to be a New York Times Best Seller," Jake said with a smile. He looked down at the bottom of the cover, and read the author's name aloud. "De'Angelo Massina, I'd have never pinned you for an author."

Massina smiled gravely.

"That's really quite amazing," Jake said seriously, studying the black-eyed boy with interest. "And I think that it's a good field for you. If you don't want to speak the words, write them. I never thought of that."

Massina tilted his head. He took a piece of crumpled paper out of his pocket and laid it on the desk in front of Jake. This one read: "Let me know what you think," in perfect cursive. Jake just smiled.

"I will," he said.

^ ^ ^

Jake knew that no matter what he did, he wasn't going to get too much out of the boy. So he decided to leave me alone for the rest of the day. Besides, he was more than satisfied with the "paper" that Massina had provided for him earlier that day.

But that very idea was going to prove difficult, as every lesson plan Jake had ever written up included everyone in the class as willing participants, and it wasn't like Jake could just ignore Massina.

"Okay," Jake said after taking roll call. "I think this is going to be a bit difficult to work with so few people, but it might be better."

He looked around the room. "The deal is that you are to get into small groups of people that are like you. You guys are the ones who decide the terms and whatnot."

Jake turned around and went back to his seat. He had been standing in the front of the room originally. "Give me a shout when you're done."

The class got into the exact groups he had though, cheerleaders, track runners, football players, and basketball players. Some of the guys were mixed with the girls' groups and vise versa, but everything was pretty much evened out. All except for Massina, but that was no surprise.

"Done?" Jake asked, standing up. The class nodded. "Good. You all jumped into the exact groups I thought you would, though a couple of you are mixed around. Now, does anyone have any clue as to why I had you do this?"

No one raised their hands for a moment, but then Sean raised his.


"Peer classification?" he offered.

"Good," Jake said, "but that's not all there is to it. It's also where you place yourself, and where you want to be. See Massina back there, all by himself? That is symbolic of the fact that he is a loner, and would rather be alone than in a group. It's also symbolic of the fact that more than likely, he thinks outside the box, and acts outside of it too, more than likely.

"That doesn't mean that the people in groups can't think or act for themselves; it just means that whomever you hang out with influences your decisions, which can be bad as well as good.

"The next step in this project," Jake began, "is for all of you who are in groups to come up with similarities and differences between you. I want at least ten of both, and after that, the rest of the period is yours for anything, so long as it's not too destructive."

Mali's hand shot up into the air. "What's this project based on?"

"I can't tell you that yet. It would spoil the whole thing," Jake said, smiling at her. He turned and walked to where De'Angelo sat.

De'Angelo watched him come, and it made Jake feel quite self-conscious, but he ignored as best as he could.

There was something about this boy that drove Jake insane, and not being able to place just what the thing was only made it worse. He wanted to beat the boy first off, just to get some sort of a reaction out of him, but then again, he knew that he could never bring himself to hurt someone. That was just a crazy idea.

And then there were other things he'd do to the beautiful boy, none of which were legal, not that he'd ever even dream of doing those kinds of things to him anyway. He wasn't a fag, but for some reason, he did find De'Angelo attractive.

"Hey there, Angel," Jake started, taking a seat across from the child, hating the large, blank black eyes that stared back at him.

Massina's eyes seemed empty pools that reflected everything they saw, but that felt nothing. Looking into those eyes made Jake think of every painful moment he had ever lived in his life. That's how sad those dark pools were, and yet they still seemed so empty.

De'Angelo just nodded to the man, who grinned, trying to ignore the feeling that was starting to eat away at him. Damn, he hated being near this boy.

"I read your book already," he started, still smiling a little. "I couldn't put it down no matter how hard I tried, so instead of fixing my lesson plans like I should have, I read this."

He pulled the book out and laid it on De'Angelo's desk.

"I really don't even know what to tell you about it. I'm not a writer, so I really don't know how to give critiques or whatever. But that's one hell of a dark book, Angel. I mean, I could have guessed that you weren't the happiest of people in the universe, but still, I never imagined you to think such dark things.

"I guess we all do, but usually, as humans, we push those thoughts aside and concentrate on something lighter. But you seem captivated by the darkness, like you like it there. It's crazy, really, and I think you are too." Jake smiled, showing that though he was serious, he didn't mean anything by what he said.

De'Angelo just nodded again, but then he tilted his head to the side and studied Jake.

Sean looked over at the duo and frowned, his dark eyes narrowing at the site of someone so close to De'Angelo. It didn't matter though, now did it? Mr. Manning was a teacher, and even though he really looked interested in helping Massina, there was no way in hell that the man could ever understand what the child was going through. Sean was the only one who knew anything about the poor child's life.

^ ^ ^

De'Angelo threw his bag on the floor when he got home and slid down the wall in his room. He was tired, having gotten very little time for sleep over the past few days, and he doubted he would have the chance to get anymore anytime soon.

"So," Sean started, sitting down in front of De'Angelo. "What was that asshole talking to you about?"

Massina just looked at his friend and smiled one of those smiles that gave Sean chills.

"He looked like he was fucking hitting on you hardcore, De," Sean continued, looking angered. He put his hand on De's shoulder and squeezed it lightly. "I wanted to pound his face in. I mean, it's not like he knows or anything, but still. Doesn't he know you're a little young for him?"

[He wasn't hitting on me, you idiot,] De'Angelo thought. [He was doing his fucking job. He doesn't even like being around me. I can see it in his eyes.]

"What's wrong, De?" Sean asked, noticing the brooding look that De had on his face. The white boy just shook his head. "Kay, whatever, right? I gotta get my ass to work, man. I'll come by in the morning, alright?"

^ ^ ^

Later that night, De lay on his bed breathing hard, afraid of what he knew was coming, but not knowing how the hell to prevent it. He jumped when he heard his door creak open, but remained in his bed. It came like this every night, and there was nothing he could do about it.

"Hey, Angel," his brother said, entering slowly. He walked to where De was laying and sat down beside him, running his hands up his stomach. "You hate this, don't you?"

When his brother smiled, De'Angelo looked away. "I know you can talk, Angel, so don't give me that bullshit. If you don't want it, say something."

The older male got on top of De, straddling the younger of the two. "You're so fucking pathetic," he whispered seductively. "Fucking ugly too. You should be glad that at least someone is willing to look at you. Fuck. No one could love something as ugly as you don't you know that? You're not even worth a quick fuck."

De's lip trembled, but he didn't even try to resist the older male, having gone through this too many times and knowing that no matter how hard he struggled, in the end, the results would be the same.

His brother carefully pulled the younger one's hoodie over his head, marveling at how soft and even the skin was, despite the bruising that he had. And even though he had bruises, he was still so beautiful, with a fair complexion and a body that could make even a straight man hard.

De's brother knew that he was beautiful, a perfect little replica of a porcelain doll with the most gorgeous large black eyes.

He changed his position so that he was laying on top of De, not caring that he had to have been crushing the poor child, seeing as he himself was not all that small. He kissed the child's neck, sucking on it, not caring that he knew he would leave a mark there.

After that he got off and yanked the boy's jeans down, unzipped his own, and pushed himself into the little boy's body so hard that he could already feel the blood. De only whimpered a little and moaned in pain as his brother thrust in and out of him at a speed that he knew would keep him from standing for at least a week.

He cried silently as all of this happened, hating the feel of his sweat mingled with his brother's on his skin like it was, hating the smell of his brother's expensive cologne.

De felt a hand on his erection and knew that this little meeting was coming to an end, which was a relief. But when he felt his brother spill into him, it burned like mad, and De bit his lip so hard that it bled just to keep himself from screaming. That would only bring on yet another of these little episodes.

De's brother sat up and licked the come off of his hand, smiling at his little brother. He was about to tell him that he always a nice little treat to have, but remembered that he never said things like that to his brother. "You can't do anything right, can you, De'Angelo? You can't even have sex properly."

[Yeah, but at least my dick is bigger than yours. I've got ten inches and you have what . . . six?]

^ ^ ^

The next morning, De'Angelo woke up to Sean standing over him, his eyes wide in horror. De didn't care, he was way too tired and felt to weak to so much as raise an eyebrow at the look Sean was giving him.

"What happened?" Sean asked breathlessly, his eyes scanning over the immense amount of blood that stained the covers that De'Angelo was lying in.

De peeked an eye open and glared at Sean before rolling over. But then he felt a pain in his lower back and cried out.

Sean jumped.

He hadn't heard De make so much as a sound in months. Occasionally the kid would growl at his or whimper, but other than that, there was nothing. And the last time he had heard even those little sounds had been months ago. The kid was as silent as the grave.

"Shit," Sean cursed, dropping to his knees. He pulled back the covers to find that De'Angelo was naked, and that the blood that stained his blankets had been from his ass. "Fuck," was all Sean could manage to say. "Oh, shit De. What the fuck? What do I do?"

De'Angelo rolled back over and took Sean's hand, laying it on his face. He closed his eyes and let out a breath. When he reopened his eyes, Sean looked close to tears.

De tried to sit up, but another bout of pain kept him flat on his back. He raised his arms, and Sean helped him up.

"We ought to get you cleaned up, man," Sean said, putting his arms under the boy's body, not caring that he was going to get dried blood all over him, or that his best friend was naked, or anything like that. What he cared about was helping De.

"This has to stop," Sean whined. "Whoever is doing this to you, De, you have to make them stop it. I can't take this. I thought he just hit you. I didn't think this!"

Sean turned the knobs to the shower, finding that the water wasn't heating up. "Shit," he cursed. "This sucks."

He sat De on the floor next to the wall before starting to strip himself of clothes. He knew his friend wouldn't be able to stand by himself, and well, he didn't exactly want to get all of his clothes soaked while he was helping him either.

After he had his clothes off, Sean went and picked De up. He stepped into the shower, which was still freezing cold, and started to wash up his friend just as quickly as he could without letting either of them freeze.

Once he was done washing the kid up, he picked De back up and got out of the shower, wrapped a towel around the both of them, and went back into De's room, where he picked out a t-shirt and a normal pair of jeans for the kid to wear. Then he went back into the bathroom to put his clothes back on.

When he came back out of the bathroom, De was throwing some painkillers in his mouth, and drinking them down with some coffee.

"You're not seriously still coming to school, are you?" Sean asked, knowing that the only time De took painkillers was on the days he planned to attend school.

De nodded, and Sean grimaced. He didn't exactly like this idea, but what could he do about it?

^ ^ ^

Jake immediately picked up that there was something wrong. First of all, both Sean and De'Angelo were late for his fourth period class, and both of them had signed in at the office just minutes before appearing with red pieces of paper that meant that they were both considered tardy.

Sean had forged two notes saying that he and De'Angelo had overslept, and the principal had accepted them without question before sending the duo off to their psychology class.

The black teenager helped his friend to his seat, before walking back to his own. Jake found that strange. De'Angelo could walk by himself yesterday, so why did Sean feel the need to practically carry the kid to his seat.

But then Jake really looked at De'Angelo, and noticed that the kid was sporting a black eye as well as a bruised cheekbone. Other than that, there were a few bruises on his neck, and you could see bruises on his arms as well. He wondered how bruised the kid was under his t-shirt.

Jake just told the kids to keep making their self-biographies, and those who were in Sean's group could catch him up. Then he walked over to De'Angelo, but not before noticing the glare that Sean was giving him.

"You okay, Massina?" Jake asked seriously, sitting down in the desk in front of De'Angelo. "You look like hell, you know that?"

[Gee, thanks for the tip. It's not like I didn't already know that I'm ugly.] De'Angelo thought, glaring at Jake.

The teacher took a deep breath and sighed. "Listen, you don't have to do this project. It's really not for you anyway . . . you don't exactly fit into the lesson plan. You don't fit anywhere, if you want to be honest. It's weird. I never expected to meet someone like you in one of my classes.

"But I know making you do this project would be going overboard. You can't have a normal life; it's just not possible. And please don't take that the wrong way. It's just that . . . well . . . bruises and hickeys don't go very well together, you know?"

De'Angelo's face turned red.

"I could go and tell the nurse, have you exaimined and whatnot." Jake said. "But I won't do that," he added quickly, seeing the death glare that the kid was giving him. "I'll just tell you this: there's always someone out there who is willing to help, someone you can turn to. If you need someone, I'll be here. That sounds corny, doesn't it? Yeah. Well, I'm serious. I'll be here if you need me, okay?"

De'Angelo just stared as Jake got up and started to walk away.

"What was that about?" Sean asked, having gotten up the moment Jake started to walk away from De'Angelo.

De'Angelo didn't even look at Sean as he watched Jake sit back down and get back to work. He shrugged his shoulders.

He was absolutely confused at the words Jake had said to him. First of all, he was way too ugly for anyone to really be able to look him in the eyes the way Jake did. Even Sean shuddered when he looked at him. But here this teacher could look at him and keep looking at him no matter how bruised he was.

He didn't really believe Jake either. His brother had already told him that no one would be there for him. Ever. But then again, maybe, just maybe . . . .

^ ^ ^

PREVIEW: Everywhere Jake goes now, he sees De'Angelo. But he really doesn't make the connection that De is stalking him just yet, trying to find out whether or not he was telling the truth. In doing this, De quickly finds out that Jake is telling the truth, but doesn't know what to do next. And now that Jake keeps seeing De'Angelo, he can't get the boy off of his mind. Embarrassingly enough, he gets a boner thinking about the kid during a date he has with a nice lady he meets at the bookstore, and he's not too pleased about it.

Jinx: So there you have it. Hope it wasn't too bad.

Jake: ~pulls De to him and snuggles~ Mine.

De: O.o

Jinx: Thought you weren't gay.

Jake: Changed me mind. =^_^=

Jinx: Right. Well, I definitely need some feedback on this. I'm not too sure if I'm going to put the rest of it out or just delete the story. I'm not sure if I like it, so hopefully at least one person out there wants to find out what happens next.