12. Peris

“Fuck,”I groan, rubbing my hand down my face as I stand under the spray of water. I open my eyes, letting the water flow over my lashes and into my mouth. Every inhale has it rushing in, on the precipice of choking me.

Exhale. It splatters to the floor.

I don’t know how long I stand there before the water splutters and instantly burns cold. I jump back with a hiss, slamming the handle down to shut it off. Body plastered in goosebumps, I reach for my towel and knot it around my waist. My wet footsteps echo on the concrete in heavy thwaps as I trek back to my belongings, somehow feeling worse off than before.

As I reach for my duffle, my ears prick, gooseflesh prickling along my wet nape. My hands still, the tip of my index finger brushing the very edge of the zipper. The silence is sharp and potent as it burns through my ear canals. A sense of déjà vu washes over me in a heavy shudder, making my skin crawl and burrow deeper.

Static zips through the air.

With my jaw locked tight, my fingers curl into my palms before I flex them, extending each digit as far as they’ll go. I walk the length of the bench to the merge of another wall of lockers. My bare feet falter at the sight of a tiny bundle huddled in the corner. A wrinkle forms between my brows, and I look up through my lashes to the ceiling in question before dropping them back to the black blob.

With pink fucking shoes.

“Abel.”

Said shoes curl inward as Abel lifts his head, like he was waiting for me to call his name. His eyes are a little red and shiny, and the tip of his big, sharp nose is wet. Cheeks pink. Skin glistening.

My stomach swoops as my conscience hightails it right out of my brain. “Fuck.” I digest the sight before me with greedy eyes.

Abel looks fucking wrecked. So sad and helpless—which he very much isn’t, but…

Fuck, he’s incredible. It flips something unfamiliar in my gut. Something warm and muted.

My rock-hard dick stirs beneath my towel, and for the first time, it’s a welcome feeling where Abel’s concerned. This is exactly how he’s meant to look. Frail and weak. On the floor with tears in his eyes. Finally bearing the consequences of his own actions.

Jesus. I really want to see how far I can go. How badly I can wreck that pretty face of his. Ruin that disgusting mouth…

“Is this what you wanted, Peris?” Abel rasps, cutting through my rapacious thoughts as he peers up at me through white-blonde lashes. His gray irises are striking, outlined in feathery black and glossy with a fresh revolution of tears.

I’ve never been so hard in my life; I can’t even think to question why he’s crying, let alone in the locker room, of all places.

“Want me all sad and pathetic at your feet?” A sharp hiss rips through my throat as every muscle contracts, my body engulfed in flames. I step toward Abel, eyes devouring the sight of his ruddy cheeks and quivering bottom lip, blonde hair caressing the sharp angles of his face.

The hem of my towel skims the tops of his knees as I draw near enough to touch him. Abel’s eyes never leave mine, fiercely sharp and provocative while equally demure and pathetic.

I reach down with a surprisingly steady hand to shove the hood from his head. White hair flops out, brushing his pierced ears. I greedily delve in, wrapping my fingers around the locks until my knuckles bump against his scalp, and then, I yank back until the cartilage bulges from the center of his long, slender throat. I score a nail down over the ridges, watching rapt as a long, red line blooms across his pale skin.

Going…

Going…

Fucking gone.

“Yeah,” I rasp in hatred. “That’s exactly what I want.”

He somehow manages to jut his pointy chin out through my hold on him. “And what if it’s not what I want?” He sounds vexed, but his face is resolute, like he’s finally accepting his fate.

Or maybe, I’m accepting mine.

Luke made me this way, and it turns out, I can’t change who I am—I’ve fucking tried. And Abel…well, he’s the reason I can no longer hide from my truths. And that is exactly what he wanted, the little fucking liar.

I crouch until we’re on a more even level, drawing his face closer to mine with my grip on his hair. Abel’s jaw tightens, and the uneven bone shifts under the pressure. His cheeks are hollowed and flushed. Lips spit-slick and permanently swollen. I have to rip my eyes away from the pout of his mouth, settling on gunmetal irises to search their depths for… something unknown.

Every messy, disgusting thing he makes me feel flaresup beneath my flesh, itching to be released. Gnawing on every organ, every nerve.

I fucking hate the way he looks. So… wretchedly pretty. Two things that can’t coincide, but with him…

I push myself up using my grip on Abel’s head. He sways under the pressure until I tug back, forcing him to look up at me with every ounce of bitter capture. “You act like you haven’t been pushing for this kind of reaction from me for fucking months,” I sneer. “This is what you wanted.” My nails sink into his scalp. I’m touching him. His breath is on my skin.

Abel glares at me, face twisted and lips pinched into an ugly sneer.

“Your fucking face,” I spit, bending over so my lips brush his chin, “I want to wreck it. Wreck you.” My teeth skim over his soft skin and down his pale throat. I lean back to stare at his unblemished flesh, vividly remembering the bruises from before, when he first came to Ardent High, and those that followed for weeks after.

I want to stain Abel with some bruises of my own. Dark, ugly, purple things to match the decadent disgust living inside of him.

“So, wreck me then,” he says so calmly, meeting my stare evenly. So confident.

I’ve wanted to ruin his face since I first saw him truly unmasked, cutting and astute. Craved to see if hurting him like I hurt would make the pain any less.

Every moment has been a painful, bitter reminder of what I’m not. What I can’t be. Who I am. Someone just as twisted, just as terrible, as Abel Silver.

I wish I felt a moment of hesitation, an inkling of panic for the pit I was about to dive into, but there’s nothing. Nothing but bitter resentment pinned with acceptance.

“Open your mouth.” My fingers find the knot in my towel with ease, and I release it from where it’s tucked around my waist, watching as it falls to the floor in a heap around my feet. The dampness of the room licks over my skin like a blanket, but the heat rushing through my veins is no match.

Or... not.

Abel does as he’s told as he shifts onto his knees and parts those sinful lips of his to suck my cockhead into his mouth like he’s a man starved. My vision turns hazy. White filters in, followed by a very distinct static. I lurch forward on a grunt. “Fuck, runt. That’s it. Put your mouth around me.”

He tongues my slit, and the pressure makes me groan, thrusting as Abel shoves me down his throat. Heat envelops me. Too tight, too wet.

“Slow.” He makes a long, wet slurping sound that makes my toes curl. “Slow the fuck down,” I growl when he gets too eager, bobbing fast enough for his hair to flutter around his stretched lips. “You’re not in charge here. Not anymore.” I bring my palm against the side of his face, and I gasp. The sting rings loud, echoing throughout the locker room, and Abel pulls back with a hiss, cheek blistered with my handprint, skin a wonderful shade of pink.

My eyes dart down to the apparent bulge in the front of his jeans. My lips curve.

“Don’t fucking hit me,” he growls, his crooked teeth showing in his grit. My smirk widens as I shove my thumb between those ugly teeth until I feel a wet tongue. Suction wraps around my digit instantly, turning my smile into a heated leer.

I lift my bare foot from the floor, replacing the coldness of the concrete with the warmth of his crotch. I slide the arch over his bulge until the ball of my foot sits perfectly against his cock—and then I dig in. Hard. Harder until Abel whimpers and tries to shift away, knees cracking on the concrete. But he can’t. He’s trapped against the wall—against me.

“I’ll hit you if I want to. Don’t pretend you don’t like being smacked around a little,” I huff as I rip my thumb from his mouth just to wipe his saliva across his face. “And damn, does it feel good to finally do it.” I slap him again just to prove my point. He hisses and whimpers. Shifts around on his knees, making my foot roll over his hard, little dick.

I stroke myself once, smearing Abel’s spit along my length, hating how much I like it. Something so repulsive, so fucking… impossible.

He’s panting, trembling, staring up at me with wide, pathetic eyes. Waiting like the good boy I didn’t know he could be.

“Go on.” I nod my head, thrusting my hips toward his face. My cock bobs in the air, glans red and shining from his saliva, beckoning for more. Abel doesn’t waste a moment. His spine bows perfectly as he leans in to pull me back into his mouth with a suction strong enough to buckle my knees. All tight lips and slick tongue as he hollows his cheeks—and I lose myself to the mind-numbing pleasure of his mouth.

I hate it. That I even want this at all, but fuck, it’s good.

He’s good…

I slam my hips forward, lodging myself into the back of his throat. The tight contraction of muscles makes the white walls warp.

“How many dicks have been in this throat?” I grunt as I reach down to press my finger along his swollen neck, hating the flare of something akin to jealousy in my chest. Abel gurgles around my cock. Spit smears across my skin, dripping down my balls. I pull back just enough to let him suck in a lungful of oxygen before I’m suffocating him again.

“You know what?” I shudder and drop my head between my shoulders. “Never mind. You’re so much prettier when you don’t fucking talk.” His eyes are scrunched shut, lashes matted with tears, where they pool before dripping down pale skin that is flushed a bright pink, stained with my handprints.

I cup the side of his hot face with one hand, thumb pressed to his malar bone so I can feel those tears on my skin. With the other, I cup the back of his head, hair twined between my fingers as I fuck into his throat. He swallows around me, making my vision blur at the edges, the heat in my groin smoldering.

With a hiss, I pull myself from his eager mouth to rip his sweatshirt over his head, fighting to keep my balance. I want his bare skin on display for me—every pale inch. But his jeans stay on, my foot still compressing his feeble, little erection. He doesn’t get the pleasure of coming for all the relentless taunting he’s done.

No. This one’s for me.

Abel falls back on his haunches, torso quivering from the rush of cool air. His skin is pimpled with gooseflesh, small nipples peaked. My eyes rake over his body, taking in every severe curve of his ribs, the sharp concave of his stomach, his happy trail.

I pause on the barbell through one of his nipples, positioned slightly asymmetrical. I flick it, relishing in his pained hiss. Then, I grab the ball on the end and tug, watching his nipple extend past what I know feels good, bordering on acute pain. “What? D’you pierce this yourself?”

“Peris,” Abel blurts in a rush, the sound of my name no more than a plea. I ignore him easily, excitedly, as I grab the other side and pull it in the opposite direction. Once I’m given a satisfactory whine, I move on to abuse more parts of his body—just to see how far I can go.

I score my nails over his small chest, creating bright red tracks in my wake. Down over his sharp ribs and narrow waist. Over the thick line of hair that disappears beneath his silver studded belt and pastel pink boxers.

My mouth is dry, but my hands are surprisingly steady at the reality of his skin against mine. His body before me, ready and willing with teeth bared, ready to snap and gnaw. To chew me into pieces. Leave me gaping and bleeding, having taken what he wanted.

He’s so perfectly hideous. And I want him—every internal voice screaming otherwise, be damned.

“Peris, stop!” Abel pushes against my bare thighs, nails digging deep into my sweat-dampened skin. I hiss, clutching at his shoulder to keep him where I want him—pinned to the wall. Snatching his chin, I force him to look up at me, and all I see is smug hatred.

Oh, runt, you have no idea what you’ve done to me.

“You’re sorely mistaken if you think you have a way out of this,” I purr, brushing my thumb back and forth over his jaw. “This is what you’ve wanted the whole time, no?” I lift a brow. He swallows loudly, fingers digging a little deeper into my skin. My heartbeat radiates beneath them—and it feels good.

I deserve it for what I’m about to fall into.

“What was the end goal, exactly? You want me to admit I’m gay; is that it? So you can get the satisfaction of outing the closeted jock.” That part isn’t a question but the fucking truth. It burns as it’s ripped from my lips, and I have no choice but to feel the brand as it washes over me like a swell. Heavy and enthralling and suffocating.

I grab my dick at the base, holding it with a tight grip to rub my head back and forth over Abel’s mouth. He parts his lips, and hot, damp breath kisses my sensitized flesh. “Except you’re the one on your knees, salivating over my dick in your mouth.” I sigh. “And with a face like this…” I press the arch of my thumb to the center of his fat, chapped bottom lip, right below my dick. “I could easily pretend you’re a girl.”

That makes Abel tense, body shifting from trembling anticipation to rigid unease. “Mmm,” I purr, feeling my lips twist nastily at that little revelation. “You don’t like that.” He squirms more, ass sashaying back and forth. “Or maybe you do…”

The muscles in my jaw contract. My fingers tighten, gut coiling. “I bet you have such a pretty pussy, too. So used up, I wouldn’t have to do a thing to slip right inside of you.” My dick has its own heartbeat; I can see my veins pulsing. Abel notices too, his eyes dropping from my face to my dick. He stares greedily, tongue darting out to wet his lips, stealing a quick taste of my oozing slit.

I shudder, then lock my molars together. “Don’t worry, runt. I’ll keep your dirty little secret if you keep mine. Can’t have anyone knowing I like to fuck the trash.” Abel whimpers as his whole body convulses. His dick jerks under my foot, making my lips quirk.

“Yeah,” I breathe shakily as I slide back into his awaiting mouth with ease, watching those fat lips of his stretch until they’re bloodless. “Shit.” I grunt when Abel’s tongue flattens out, curling around my girth. “Of course, you like that. You like forcing people’s secrets to the surface while hiding your own. Not surprising with how fucked up you are.”

We’re one and the same.

Abel bobs his head, falling into a sort of frenzy as he slurps on my dick. Saliva smears across my groin, dripping down my thighs, my balls. Onto his jean-clad thighs. It’s messy and disgusting, and I should force him to slow down again. To make this humiliation last. To blemish his porcelain skin with marks and bruises, marred with a heavy, pink flush. To see tears fall unbidden, followed by breathless, pathetic little pants and moans. But the fervency unraveling in my groin and at the base of my spine is all-consuming and asphyxiating.

My hands find his hair greedily, digging in and clenching hard. And fuck, if his silky strands don’t feel like a heaven in Hell. I lose my mind, thrusting blindly into the tight warmth of his throat. “Just pathetic,” I pant heavily, gaze locked on the flutter of his dark lashes. “D-disgusting.” Abel buries his nose in my pubic hair and swallows. My spine bows, my head falling back between my shoulders as my vision whites out. “So. Fuckin’. Ugly.” I force each word out through sharp, panting breaths, their truths pulled from my most warped, sadistic thoughts—the ones I’ve always kept buried—but now… now they’re unfettered and uncontrollable.

And just as much about me as they are about him.

A vibrating hum travels from the head of my dick to the base, furrowing down where it blooms outward and intensifies. My balls are drawn up tight, the toes of one foot curled against the concrete and the other against the rough, worn fabric of Abel’s jeans—and it’s the throb and pulsating of Abel’s cock against my foot that sends me over the edge.

I rip myself out of the back of his tight throat with pained regret, my hand already flying up and down my length. The shlick of his saliva is obscene, flooding my face with heat as the sound echoes off the cold, concrete walls.

Abel drops to his haunches, chest rising and falling fast enough to make me dizzy. His fingers bite into the meat of my thighs, urging me closer, eyes glued to my dick like he’s still starved, even after having a throat full.

I drop my head to the side, letting it roll along my shoulder as the heat crests, then finally fulminates. I crack my eyes open blearily, hand trembling as I stroke myself through every pulse. An unmitigated groan falls from my lips as thick globs of iridescent white splash across Abel’s face and bare chest.

His eyes are closed, but his lips are parted, little pink tongue sticking out like he’s hoping for a taste. Some of my cum drips from his lip, and a deep smugness washes through me as I watch that tongue swipe over his mouth to take it in.

“You may be ugly, runt. But fuck, you really do look pretty covered in my cum,” I pant between each winded breath, swiping my fingers through the puddle of spunk sitting in his hollowed clavicle.

A damp warmth seeps outward against the sole of my foot. I flex my toes with a grimace before dragging my foot off Abel’s lap to reveal a dark stain on his crotch. Knowing there’s a sticky, gross, cooling mess inside makes me shudder.

“Fuck,” I rasp, elated that he gets off on this. On being treated like the wanton slut he is.

His ugly matches my own.

Crouching, I put myself in Abel’s line of sight. Upon hearing my movement, he cracks his eyes open, squinting through the harsh fluorescent lighting. I rake a heavy gaze over my cum splattered on his torso and pretty little face. Dripping and sticky and nasty.

There’s even a bit coating the barbell at the bridge of his nose, making it shine like a very specific taunt.

I swipe my index finger over his cheek this time, gathering my spunk instead of spreading it around. Holding my hand up with an arched brow, I wait for Abel to part his lips—which he does only after a split second of hesitation. I shove three fingers in, pushing into the back of his throat until I hear him retch.

“Shh,” I hiss softly as I finger his uvula. “You wanna eat my cum, don’t you, runt?” I spread my digits as wide as I can. “Yeah, you do. You’re fucking gagging for it.” Then, I yank my fingers out, laughing dryly as Abel chases their descent.

I pat his head, forcing him to buckle under the weight, then ruffle his hair. “Don’t worry. It’s all for you. No need to get greedy.” Hands to my knees, I push myself up, and his steely eyes follow, from my feet all the way to my face, slow in their ascent, in their blatant perusal.

I press my foot to his lap again, and Abel hisses at what now is probably a very cold, uncomfortable mess. “No one gets to treat you like shit but me now, you got that? That means no random fucks and certainly none that you get fucking paid for.” I curl my toes around his soft little cock. “Remember, Abel, you wanted this.” And I do, too.

With a content sigh, I grab my towel from the dirty floor and sneak a glance at the scuffed, pink shoes nestled under Abel’s ass before leaving him where he sits, covered in cum, aching and waiting.

For nothing. For everything I won’t give him.

Even knowing he’s watching my every move, I get dressed with a renewed smile on my face, feeling refreshed for the first time in months.

I know later—whenever that might be—I’ll hate myself for giving in to what I can’t want. But for now, I’m gonna fucking relish in taking Abel Silver down a notch.

And, really, he looks so much better on his knees than I imagined. Like that’s exactly what he was made for. To be used—wrecked and ruined. For me.

Because of me.