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Curly’s a sweet kid.
Too sweet, and God, Jimmy should not be thinking that, because he was - well, should be considered the luckiest man alive. He’s been to jail around five times, and he’s still getting to babysit for a rich family. Hail Mary, or whatever.
Nonetheless, the kid is… too perfect. Too happy. It’s a little grating. Actually, more than a little grating. He has everything Jimmy’s ever wanted as a kid.
Here he is, little blond boy living the dream. Meanwhile, Jimmy had to scratch and claw his way out of the slums, living on ramen packets and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches ever since he was, well, Curly’s age.
And all that living to end up like this, making minimum wage at some rich people’s house, babysitting a well behaved kid who eats a full course meal for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, who’ll grow up to be, who fuckin’ knows, a bigshot lawyer or some shit.
Unfair. That’s what it all is; un-fucking-fair.
At least if Curly was misbehaved, a spoiled little brat like he was supposed to be, with what growing up rich and all, Jimmy would see a little of himself in him. But no. He’s a goddamned angel, a halo on top. Literally. His blond hair reflects angelically. Irritating doesn’t even begin to describe it.
He’s nothing like Jimmy was as a kid, picking fights with other kids in school and pulling on dog’s ears, screaming back at his parents and throwing tantrums.
And again, his appearance - he’s so… appealing to look at. That was probably odd to say about a child, but, really, could he be blamed? Anyone would say that, right? Hell, he’s surprised the kid hasn’t been fuckin’ kidnapped already. He’s got plump cheeks, rosy red ones, beautiful blue eyes, stunning and sharp, messy - curly - blond hair that grazes his shoulders, pale skin with just slightly chubby limbs, baby fat slowly disappearing. He’s five, and he’s the prettiest thing Jimmy’s ever seen.
He doesn’t remember much about himself at that age, but he knows his knees were always skinned, his skin was always dirtied, and his hair was so knotted his Mom had to tug hard, to the point his scalp would be stinging and he’d have fat tears rolling down his cheeks.
Curly is quite literally his polar opposite. If only Jimmy had gotten a life like the kid did. If only he grew up like this, maybe he would’ve had a chance in the world.
So, for all that’s logical, he hates the kid.
Loves him too, because God, he’s perfect, isn’t he? Pretty on the inside and out. Not only that, but Curly loves him. Always gets excited when he has to be babysat, because that meant Jimmy was coming over. He’s the easiest kid to babysit, so, really, Jimmy doesn’t mind it all that much when his parents call him over so they can go fuck in a motel or some shit. He’s getting paid to look after a good kid, what could be better?
Well, for starters, everything.
It’s too perfect. It’s too perfect that it’s fucking irritating, because all he can think in the back of his mind is that his childhood is fucking perfect, not a thing out of place, and really, Jimmy deserved that too. Why does this little shit get to live out a fantastic childhood, and Jimmy got to live out literal hell?
“Sandwich.” Curly repeats, tugging at Jimmy’s sleeve with a slight frown. Jimmy represses a scoff, then turns to the fridge. Lucky him, there’s everything in the goddamn fridge. A big piece of kale stares at him. Fantastic.
He grabs the Tupperware that contains a neatly made sandwich, puts it on a plate, then hands it to Curly. He grins at him, not even missing a tooth, all pearly white. Jimmy kinda wants to hurt him.
He doesn’t. He hates those thoughts, after all, he’s just a kid, a child, a sweet one at that. He doesn’t deserve pain, nor suffering.
But Jimmy didn’t either.
He toddles to the couch, hopping on it and looking at Jimmy expectantly. Well, there’s one thing, at least, he doesn’t follow all the rules. His Mom would probably freak the fuck out if she found out he was eating on the couch.
Jimmy sits next to Curly, turning on the tv.
“What do you wanna watch, huh?”
“Mm.” Curly hums, taking a bite of the sandwich. His mouth is so small, he only gets a little bite. He chews with his mouth slightly open, getting crumbs on his plate. Jimmy grimaces, just a bit.
“Spongebob.”
Jimmy can’t help a snort.
“That’s old shit.” Not even he watched that as a kid. And he was thirty-eight. Curly pouts.
“That’s a bad word.”
Jimmy scrunches up his nose a little, and sighs, resting his chin in his palm as he flips through the channels.
“Yeah, well, you’re not gonna tell your Mom, are you?”
“Mmm…” Curly frowns, but nods. A good kid, sorta.
“So, how about Sunny Squad? Kids your age watch that, right?”
Luckily, Curly’s eyes light up and he nods, biting into the sandwich again. The lettuces makes a crunch, and some mayo smears on his cheek. Jimmy stares, blinks a few times.
He… shouldn’t be staring. He gets a napkin, wiping away the sauce. Curly kicks his legs as he watches, as he eats. Little ducks run across the screen, bunnies with names speaking about some kiddie-nonsense. Jimmy doesn’t actually bother watching it.
No, instead he is staring. Still, yeah, he’s fucking staring at the kid eat. Which, Curly doesn’t even mind, or notice, as he continues watching the giant television with infatuation, munching on his meal.
Eventually, though, he gets… a little…
He gets hard. Just half, though. He grits his teeth in slight irritation, groping at the area once to adjust himself - just relieve a little of the pressure. He shudders, then glances to the child to make sure he hadn’t taken notice. Luckily, he hadn’t, still eating as slowly as before, watching and giggling at stupid jokes.
…If he pulled himself out, begun jerking off, would he even notice?
Damn, his fucking intrusive thoughts. Or, was that even an intrusive thought? Because, really, he was sorta considering it.
Not really. Curly would notice.
But… well, would he tell anyone? Probably not… if Jimmy asked nicely. Because Curly liked him. He’s been babysitting him for an entire year - a year and one month, in fact. He was trusted, maybe pitied by Curly’s parents. Despite that, he was still paid minimum wage. What-fucking-ever.
He leans back against the couch and ignores the way his dick twitches in his sweatpants. He still does have some self control, anyways. Curly’s a child. He shouldn’t be getting hard around him. Shouldn’t have even indulged like that. God, he’s sick.
Unfortunately, he wishes he could say it bothered him more than it did. He doesn’t feel the typical guilt one probably should in a situation like this. He just feels… neutral. Maybe he didn’t deserve a life like this because he was fucked up since birth. Hah. Curly was blessed since birth, wasn’t that funny how it all worked out?
Unless… well, he wasn’t.
Fuck, Jimmy shouldn’t.
But. He’s never lived a normal childhood, never had a good one, not even close, so… why should Curly have roses and rainbows and fucking cupcakes everywhere he goes? He should have one… well, it wouldn’t even be a traumatic experience, would it? He wouldn’t even know what was going on. Well, maybe when he grew up he would, but, hell, Jimmy won’t be around for that. And besides, he’d still be a lucky adult, all things considered. No matter what Jimmy did, Curly still wouldn’t suffer through a fraction of what Jimmy did.
So… well, maybe he should?
He’s not going to do anything that bad, anyways. He won’t even undress him, how about it? Yeah. He’s being a pretty good saint, honestly. God, he’s aching in his pants. A glance to Curly shows that he’s done eating, empty plate with crumbs on the coffee table in front of them. He pops a candy in his mouth that’s been left carelessly in a bowl - rich people things, apparently - and chews slowly, like he’s forgotten how to, clearly too enamored with the show to bother.
Jimmy sticks his hand in his pants, yet not into his boxers, biting back a moan as he runs his hand along the outline of his now-very-hard-cock. The relief is immeasurable. He glances at the back of the kid’s head, his pretty little body, and gives a tentative stroke. He should’ve done this a while ago, honestly.
He palms himself a few more times till it’s enough to nearly have him come right then and there, and frankly, he doesn’t want that. He knows it’s probably safer, even though he does know Curly trusts him and wouldn’t say a word to his parents if he asked him not to, but, honestly, he doesn’t care about safe or not safe, it’s why he’s got a couple DUI’s and petty thefts accumulated. It’s why he knows what the inside of a jail cell looks like.
So, he slows down, moving his palm torturously slowly against his aching cock, weeping against his boxers.
And then Curly glances at him, and his heart nearly stops.
Sure, he was planning to have the kid actually… engage, but his piercing blue eyes suddenly on him kinda hits like a truck, and his instinctive panic response tells him to stop. He does. For a moment. And then, he continues.
“Jimmy? What’re you doing?” Curly asks, articulate and pretty, remnants of a posh British accent sticking to his words. If he had moved to America sooner, maybe he would’ve been able to babysit him when he was an actual baby.
“You really wanna know, huh?” Jimmy tilts his head against the couch, and Curly blinks, his thick eyelashes batting against his pale skin.
“Uh-huh.”
“Well, if you must.” Jimmy teases, reaching out with his other hand and ruffling the kid’s hair. God, he can barely register it all. He’s touching Curly, touching him while he’s getting himself off. He sure is fucking lucky.
“I’m making myself feel good, okay?”
Curly’s face turns curious, and he scoots over a bit. Glances down at his sweatpants, then back up at Jimmy.
“How?”
Jimmy shimmies off his sweatpants, revealing his cock print as he reluctantly moves his hand away. He wonders if Curly understands a thing. Judging by the way he blinks a few times, eyes widening just a bit, maybe he does? Just a little.
He puts his broad hand on Curly’s delicate little back, rubbing there for a few moments.
“You see, this is my… dick.” He debates on using proper terminology, but decides against it, “It feels good when I touch it. Kinda like scratching an itch. And you have one too.”
“I do…” Curly mutters, contemplating. Thinking. God, it’s adorable. He’s such a sweet kid.
“Yeah. You ever touch yourself there, buddy?”
“Um, no.” Curly shakes his head in a no, glancing up at Jimmy curiously. Eagerly. He wants to know more, he wants to learn more.
“You wanna, uh,” Jimmy swallows, adrenaline finally kicking in, “Wanna feel it?”
Curly nods fervently, moving forward a little and placing his pudgy little hands on his dick, gentle and oh so soft, and it nearly makes Jimmy lose his fucking mind.
“It- it’s, stiff.” Curly comments, the word rolling off his tongue too fucking sexily. Jimmy nearly moans, placing his hand on Curly’s head, fingers tangling in his tousled hair.
“Yeah, yeah, that means it feels good, Curls. You’re making me feel good now, you know that?”
“I am?” Curly asks, beginning to grin. A boyish little thing, happy to make him feel good, happy to be doing something good. God, Jimmy just wants to fuck him, but, if he’s lucky, in a couple of years, he actually will. Now… wouldn’t be the best time. He supposes his parents still help him in the shower.
Curly runs his little hands up his cock, just a layer of fabric between them, Jimmy’s hyperaware brain supplies, and frowns.
“I don’t understand.” That goddamn lilt of his, “Is it a massage?”
“Hah. Yeah, sorta, kiddo. You wanna feel good too?”
“I dunno… I wanna help you.”
And God, if that isn’t hot. Jimmy wants to shove his fucking throat down on his cock, but, instead, he chuckles.
“Hey, we can both feel good. How does that sound?”
Curly’s shifts in his spot, excitement donning his features. He nods excitedly.
Jimmy’s gonna come the second he gets the kid in his lap, so to have the kid rut against his dick without him coming in the Guinness record’s time, he’ll help him get hard first.
“Now, all you have to do is take off your pajamas. Not your underwear, just your pants, alright?”
As if the kid needs extra instructions, he understands everything way too quickly. It’s kinda eerie. He’s fantastic at homework, a gifted kid, his parents had called him.
Curly slides off his pants, but looks a little awkward there, with his little space print boxers tightly clung to his baby thighs.
“Mummy said, she said not to be indecent in front of people.”
“Well, I’m not a stranger, and I’m not just people, right? I’m Jimmy. You trust me, don’t you?”
Curly hurriedly nods. Like a puppy looking for affection. Jimmy grins, a sleazy grin.
“I’m gonna touch you here.” He lays a single finger over the faint outline of his soft little cock, Curly’s eyes widening, his breath hitching. He, this time, hesitantly nods. Jimmy pulls away.
“Hey, if you don’t trust me, that’s fine. We don’t have to do anything.”
And like clockwork, the kid shakes his head in a hurried no, terrified that he’s somehow hurt Jimmy’s feelings.
“No! I do! I really, really do. Please?”
Jimmy represses his grin this time, and only gives a tight lipped smile. He finally puts his palm over his crotch, his hand just about covering his entire lower half, and begins rubbing. Curly swallows, looking up at Jimmy through his lashes and then back down at his hand, his breathing becoming just a little uneven.
It takes a little longer than Jimmy hoped, but he does in fact get hard. Jimmy can’t remember being five, not really, so he wasn’t sure a kid his age could get hard. Lucky him.
“Does it feel good?”
Curly shifts, his face twisting up. He relaxes, and slowly nods.
“Feels- ah, um, weird. Funny.” Curly breathes out, his hips twitching a little. Jimmy hums, continuing till Curly’s breathing gets really stuttered and harsh and he grips at his sleeve and- shit, Jimmy really hopes he didn’t come. Judging by the way Curly seems upset at the loss of contact, he didn’t.
“I’m gonna make us both feel good now, that’s what you want, right?”
“Uh-huh.” Curly says, breathily, and Jimmy hoists the kid up by his armpits, sets him in his lap. He nearly moans at the pressure of him - at the heat of him, sat right above his aching cock. He gives an experimental roll of his hips, and he manages to rut his dick right against the kid’s. Curly makes a small moan-whine noise, gripping at the front of Jimmy’s shirt.
He then pushes his own hips down against Jimmy, rubbing his tiny self against him, and it just about makes him come right then and there.
So, yeah, what the hell? He already went this far. He makes Curly move down on his thighs a little, just a bit, but it still elicits a whine from the boy. He pulls out his dick, pre smeared along it, and Curly’s breath hitches, just a bit. He wonders if his Dad showers with him; if he’s seen a dick before.
He moves Curly back up against him, flush against his cock, and he ruts against him. He’s nearly as big as his torso. Jimmy gasps, grinding against him. His shirt rides up a bit, plush and soft, and he whines, pressing against Jimmy’s dick for some sort of relief for himself. Fuck, Jimmy can’t help it.
He comes. And God, he’s never come so hard in his life before. He pants, heart beating heavy in his chest as he comes too hard, too long. It hits like a fucking freight truck. He groans as he digs his fingers in Curly’s chubby little hips, pressing his body against his dick and giving a few bucks of his hips. Curly whines, humping him, basically. Jimmy rides out his high, Curly the little helper he is, until it becomes too overstimulating, and he has to slide Curly off of him.
Luckily for the kid, he ends up with his hand on him in a matter of seconds, his back pressed up against the couch, his curls splayed as Jimmy palmed him, quicker than before. Curly’s breath gets all heavy and choked and then he’s coming, evident by the little moan he makes, pressing up against his hand.
Jimmy stares at the cum on the front of his shirt - Jimmy’s cum, fuck, fuck, fuck that’s so hot - some sticking to the bottom of his tiny jaw, and he nearly gets hard all over again, if the sight of the kid getting his first orgasm wasn’t enough.
Then, Curly’s pushing his hand away with a harsh gasp. Jimmy pulls back, and Curly chews on his bottom lip, shifting his legs a little. Pushes them together, then widens his eyes. It’s all new. Jimmy delights in being his first. Jimmy delights in tainting his childhood.
“What was that?”
“Well, it felt good, didn’t it?”
“I, yeah, uh-huh.”
“It’s called jerking off, Curly. Now, you can’t tell your Mom, or your Dad, or anyone about it, alright? It’s very private.”
“We did that?”
“Well, um,” Jimmy frowns at having to tell a child the schematics of sex and masturbation, but, hell, he owes it to him, right? “We sorta did. It was closer to us fucking more than anything.”
“Bad word.” Curly says instinctively, and Jimmy can’t help but laugh.
“Yeah, it’s a bad word, but it also means what we just did. And you can’t tell that to anyone. You understand, right? I mean, I’ll be in big trouble, I’ll never see you again.” And just for effect, “It’s a really special secret.”
Curly gets a little sleepy grin, and nods.
“It’s our secret?”
“Yeah, our real special little secret. You like that, don’t you?”
“Yeah. Um, can we do it again?”
Jimmy nearly chokes. And almost actually does when he notices the time, the cum staining the kid, and the fact that his parents are gonna come home really, really fucking soon.
“Yeah, only if you keep this all to yourself, and, uh, yeah- uh, just… maybe next visit, alright?”
Curly nods. Jimmy pulls off his long-sleeve pajama shirt, standing up and surveying him. He grabs a napkin, previously used for mayo, and wipes off the cum from his jaw. Curly only giggles. He studies Curly again, and, he’s clean.
He picks up Curly, dirtied shirt in his other hand, leaving the napkin on the empty plate, and makes his way to his destinations. First, the washer. He throws the shirt in the wash; simple enough. Then, he carries Curly upstairs, already falling asleep in his arms.
His room is really nice. Pastel blue, rocket ship plushies and stickers dotting it.
He sets him on his bed, lets him lay back on it. He’s so tired. But… he should be, after all, it was his first time coming. So pretty, so cute. Jimmy loves him; Jimmy hates him.
He pulls down his boy boxers, just a little, swallowing hard at the sight of his plump little cock just… there, soft and tiny. He checks for any residue, and evidently, he’s not old enough to produce anything. It almost makes Jimmy laugh.
He pulls them back up, properly setting Curly under his sheets, ruffling his hair. Curly gives a small, sleepy smile, and yawns.
God, Jimmy really hopes when he dug his fingers into his hips - that, well, he didn’t give him any bruises, any marks. That’d be a fucking disaster. He can imagine his parents horror. The cops showing up at his doorstep, because, well, who else would it be?
Still, it was all worth it, he thinks. And he’s not gonna stop here. After all, Curly himself asked for more. Jimmy wouldn’t deny him something so simple. He wasn’t cruel.