Author's Note: The second half of this chapter contains some particularly graphic and disturbing imagery.
I inhale sharply as the grey morning light filters into my eyes. The warm golden light still seeps below the doorway and I gotta chase it. I stand carefully and tiptoe over to the door, opening it just enough to slip out and twisting the doorknob so the door doesn’t click as it shuts. I walk downstairs naked, finding a pair of underwear hanging on the bannister of the second floor staircase. I pull them on and walk downstairs as the cloudlight pushes into the kitchen.
“Morno,” Gian mumbles, nursing coffee.
“Why are you still here?”
“Spent the night. Too drunk to go home.”
We didn’t drink? I don’t really question it further. I shuffle to the counter and drink water from the faucet. I rinse my hands and push my hands through my hair. Gian watches me, his brow furrowing slightly, but he doesn’t say anything yet. I stand straight and lean against the countertop, looking at the fractals of my reflection in the backsplash.
“You good?”
“Yeah. Haven’t woken up yet.”
He nods slowly and takes a sip of his coffee. “You look like shit.”
“You told me that last time I was here, too.”
“Not sure Carter’s awake.”
“That’s fine. Not looking for him.”
Footsteps creak on the stairs and my heart stops. I wait, frozen, praying it’s not Reuben coming to drag me back to his room. The steps pause, and I exhale shakily. The footsteps start again, slower now but deliberate. Gian glances up, his brows tightening and loosening almost rhythmically.
“Sutton?” Carter’s voice feels like honey against my ears. He steps into the kitchen with messy hair and mustache hairs flying away from their usual obedient positions. “What are you doing up?”
“Couldn’t sleep.”
“You okay, man?” He steps closer, hands still in his pockets. “You don’t look right.”
I want to tell them everything. I just want to be able to scream it at the top of my lungs. I can’t tell Carter, or Gian. They wouldn’t care enough to actually do anything– and even if they did? They’d never be able to change anything. Lachlan said Reuben gets to do whatever he wants, no rules, just as long as he can’t see it.
“I just need coffee.”
Gian obliges me and pours the remainder from the pot. I drink it fast. It’s perfectly warm, and so easy to drink. I fill my empty mug with water and drink it, too, allowing the dregs of the pot to tinge the cool water. The coffee remedies more than I could have expected. My feet begin to feel light again, and walk to the patio to meet the sun as it pushes just barely above the horizon through the trees. I lean into it, pulling the door open and laying down in a wicker chair on the patio.
Gian joins me not long after, losing his shirt before he even sits next to me. His body is warm, smooth, I love the way he looks out past the trees like he has the forest skirting town memorized.
“Are you sure you’re good, mate?”
“Yeah, man, I promise,” I reassure him. “Can a man not just drink in the sun?”
He chuckles, shifting until his forearm brushes mine. I flinch and tense, but something deeper tells me that I need to let my guard down.
“Damn. Did you have a nightmare?”
“Something like it.”
Gian leans in and all the sudden I feel something I decide I can no longer suppress. I lean into him, hand now on his chest, and my lips meet his. He doesn’t pull away, he just lets it happen until I feel like I’m satisfied enough with the discovery of their softness. The kiss lingers, and so do his eyes, and for a moment, I could swear we’re somewhere I’ve never been before. The blue morning light fades into gold and it brightens Gian’s eyes and his beautiful teeth. I lean in again, desperate for more, and Gian returns each kiss. His mouth moves to my neck, lining it with kisses until his tongue travels along my collarbone. My dick hardens with urgency.
Gian stands, his eyes never leaving mine, and he pulls me up eagerly. I follow, my feet light and eyes buzzing so wide I swear there’s a halo around this man. He pulls me upstairs and we float into Carter’s room, where Carter sits naked. His eyes meet mine, warm and steady, like he might just want me. Gian pushes me against the wall and it feels like both of them are on me instantaneously. Gian’s hands brush my abs and down to my ass, tugging at the dirty underwear I put on this morning.
“You’re okay,” Carter whispers, voice smooth. His fingers trail down my body while Gian kisses down my arm, my bicep. My dick throbs hard now, and I don’t hate myself anymore. It’s Gian, and it’s Carter. The room grows warm, the light becomes softer. Their touches blend together, until they slowly kiss each other. I melt to my knees and the wall fades to the center of the room. Gian loses his clothes, and they glide down to the floor while Carter unbuttons his pants. They settle in front of me, and I watch their muscles flex for a moment as they jerk off together. Gian wraps his arm around Carter, supporting both of their bodies. I look up to both of them, their pecs bouncing gently, the way Carter’s chiseled abs flex with each hypnotic tug, and the way Gian’s abs, padded with slight cushion, tighten as his breathing picks up.
I take Gian’s dick in my mouth and he tilts his head back. Carter’s hand rests on the back of my head and guides me down on Gian until I gag on Gian growing down my throat. Carter redirects me to his own dick, more familiar, easier. He slowly works my throat open, leaning into Gian as the room around me fades into such a deep, clean, yellow. My body begins to feel almost soupy as I meld with the two in front of me.
Gian lifts my chin gently and pulls me to my feet. “On the bed.”
I nod, and they both follow. Gian puts me on my back and Carter sits just behind my head while Gian lifts my legs. Gian bites my ass gently, and then traces the marks with his fingers before circling my hole with his tongue. I whimper, and then I spill into a mess of moans and unabridged pleasure. He presses his face into my ass even further, tonguing my hole until he comes back up for air, panting, eyes glinting as he stares at me between my legs. He gathers some of his spit, wraps his hand around my dick, and his tongue pushes up my taint and to my balls. My eyes flutter shut while Carter begins to work my throat again. Fuck. I needed this so fucking bad.
Gian takes my dick in his mouth. Fuck. I gasp around Carter’s dick and begin to move my hips. Gian lathers my shaft with his tongue until my dick aches, throbbing so hard I swear I could release into him at any moment. He deepthroats me, gags, pulls off, and looks up with a devilish smile, a soft laugh escaping before he dives back in, more careful now, but with that same warmth that dares to push me over the edge.
Carter’s massive body hunches over me, his dick pressing deeper into my throat while his hands tug my pecs so hard I feel like he could tear them off me. The room glows even more deeply as sunlight pushes the warmth of the day into us three, everything so effortlessly arousing that I feel like each part of me loses control with such synchronicity that my body and mind can finally detach from each other.
Gian leans into my muscular thighs now, folding me in half as he works his dick against my hole, running his slick shaft against my taint until his head threatens to push inside me. I need it. God. He leans his weight into my thighs and my eyes beg for more. “Fuckkk, boy,” he growls roughly as he slides into me, slow, working me open with a care that makes my body flatten.
His hair falls over his face and sweat begins to wick at the ends now, bunching his loose waves into sweeping curls. Sweat shakes loose as he bucks into me, each thrust a steady deepening of the last. The light darkens, vapor almost precipitous around my mouth as I exhale and our bodies become one, deeper, more sweaty, more masculine, more perfect. I’m lost in it, moaning loud, my dick unbelievably hard, body alive. Gian in my hole, Carter in my mouth, their rhythms match, heat overwhelming. They lean forward, meeting over me, exchanging sopping kisses as their lips and tongues explore each other's, hungry, demanding mouths.
Carter’s hands move to my face, guiding me deeper onto his dick. The room pulses around my skin, and Gian leans down to kiss me gently, breathing heavily into me, down my chin, leaving a trail of spit between our lips as he pulls away for a moment. His eyes search through mine, unraveling everything but acting like he already knows every thought I have.
“Give it to me,” I beg, the words spilling out of me as Carter begins jerking roughly. I clutch Gian’s shoulders, my hands snaking and securing against the bulk of his back. “Please,” I beg. His eyes lock on mine, my eyes plead for him. His thrusts become more sudden, more urgent. “Fuck, Sutton,” he growls.
Carter’s hands slide back to my neck, thumbs brushing my jaw as he lifts Gian’s mouth back into a deep kiss. My moans fill the room, reverberating off of each corner and back into my ears, echoing, shouting, begging. Gian’s hips tighten and he nearly goes cross-eyed as he unloads inside me. He pulls out quickly, stroking erratically and twisting his nipple as he sprays his warm cum across my lower abs and cock, his moans matching mine until we harmonize. Carter slides off the bed and pushes Gian up until he straddles my stomach.
Carter slides in impatiently, his dick filling me and pounding against my prostate. Gian's seed is the perfect lube. Carter leans into Gian for support while Gian reaches back and grinds against my dick and Carter’s perfect body. I’d never thought that I might have both of these men over me, taking me– allowing me to give into every dirty thought I’ve ever had– every urge I’ve had to see them stripped down and sweaty again.
Carter’s thrusts are relentless, sending shockwaves through my body and making the bed creak, and I have no shame in screaming his name as loud as I want. His hands tighten around my thighs, and with great finality, his body buckles into Gian’s and he cums deep inside of me. The sensation puts me over, and my own dick responds with a fountain that coats Carter’s abs and Gian’s perfectly round ass.
Carter pulls out of me, and Gian slides off. Carter kisses me once more before I follow both of them into the bathroom. The water feels amazing on my skin, skin on skin, looking up at both Gian and Carter. They seem taller now, even more present and dominant in their figures while I shrink down almost into the drain. I look around me, scrubbing my body with creamy, floral soap. They wash each other, wash me, scooping suds off of each other and patting them on my face. Their bodies, now dripping, sparkle under the bathroom floodlights. I lean into them, letting the water sear my skin to them, staring at Carter’s semi hard member and Gian’s soft dick. I give Gian’s a tug, pulling the foreskin back and cupping his balls before letting it fall again. He just laughs, easily.
I get dressed in Carter’s clothes and chase the warmth of the sky as it calls me outside. I wander around campus, the smell of summer flowers and honeysuckle fills me while birds mingle with sporadic, distant voices of students finally waking. It rejuvenates me. I go to the wrestling facility. It’s warm. It’s clean. It smells like Pinesol and bleach, but the lemony sterility is kind on my nose. I tuck myself around corners I’ve never seen, into rooms that should be locked. The lights don’t work. I walk into Finn’s office, expecting to see his perfect curls and mullet, his too-perfect smile, but it’s empty. He’s off somewhere then, with someone. I don’t know.
The books on the bookshelf are blank, their pages empty other than the words I remember seeing on their titles. I wonder what that is. The folders on his desk and in his drawers are hollow. I flip through them trying to find anything, my fingertips sweaty and causing them to stick to each other. I pull them back and dig into the depths of the bottom drawer. It’s difficult to explain the pull, but then I feel it. My fingers brush a zipper, then cold metal. I pull out a small, black leather case, revealing a set of polished silver clamps, leather straps, a leather harness, and a folded note in Finn’s neat, all capitalized handwriting:
FOR THE NEXT ONE WHO NEEDS BREAKING IN
I close the drawer, making sure to leave everything as I left it. I move to the locker room, stripping naked for a reason I’m not sure of. I stand before the mirror, flexing my muscles and watching my soft dick. I trace my chest, down my body. I’m insatiably horny. I go back to Finn’s office, rummaging around for any other secrets. I’m eager to uncover anything and everything. My dick reacts and rises to the possibilities.
I plunge into another drawer and find a wooden box weathered from years of disuse. I open it to find a stack of polaroids, fresh and some yellowed. They’re grainy but clear enough to make my eyes burst from my head. They show a jock, maybe several, not unlike me, lean and ripped. One in particular. His eyes are wide, mouth gagged with fabric, clamps on his nipples, and bound by leather straps. Another photo shows him bent over a desk. I try to analyze his face, but it’s far too dark and grainy. He reminds me so much of me it’s unbelievable. Finn’s hands are clearly visible on the boy in a few of the photos. They’re unmistakable. Then his curls enter the frame, and even a few photos of him on his knees in front of the boy, kissing up and down his body.
The notebook under the box is worse. Dates, names, descriptions in the same handwriting: Resistant at first, but broke fully after two sessions. Likes the clamps. My hands shake and I shove the box down to the back of the drawer, and I step backward to the door, not daring to turn my eyes from his office. But then he appears. Finn in all of his size. I back into his massive body and flinch, turning to face him as he sizes up my naked body. He looms over me bigger than ever, bigger than I could have remembered.
“What are you doing here, Cameron?” he probes.
I don’t have an actual answer. “Nothing,” I stutter.
“Why are you naked?” His bulk blocks my exit.
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know,” he repeats, laced with something that makes my skin prickle. He steps closer, and I back up. “That’s not much of an answer, Cam.”
“I was just leaving practice,” I manage.
“We didn’t have practice today, Cameron.”
“I got it mixed up. I was changing, then unsure why no one was here.”
“You have the schedule on my phone, but you’re in my office, naked. Pilfering through everything. Make it to my desk?”
“I didn’t see anything,” I blurt. “I was just looking for a pen or something. I’m sorry, Coach. I’ll go.” I edge sideways, trying to slide through the doorway, but he follows my movement, arm brushing the wall to cut me off.
“If you didn’t see anything, Cameron, why are you shaking?”
“I’m cold.” My options are diminishing fast, and I don’t know if I had any to begin with. I could double down, pretend I’m clueless, or try to talk my way out. But Finn’s not stupid, and I’m running out of any plausibility.
“Right, sorry,” he wears a fake smile. “Should let you put on clothes, then.”
I nod too quickly.
“You don’t look cold,” he mumbles. “You look scared.”
“I’m not scared,” I lie, forcing myself to steady myself by leaning back on the desk slightly. “I just… messed up, okay?”
“Mistake,” his lips hardly part. “You’re full of those right now, aren’t you?” He leans in close enough for the darkness to obscure most of his face other than the stubble on his chin and the glint of his eyes. “You didn’t find anything in my desk, did you? No… pens? No secrets?”
My mind races, grasping for a way to get out. Confronting him is surely suicide. He’s double my size, and I’m in the place he’s most at home. “I didn’t touch your desk. Please, Coach, I don’t want any trouble.”
“Trouble,” he lingers. “You’re already in it, Cam.” His hand moves, not to grab me, but to rest on the desk beside me, boxing me in further. “You’re not leaving.”
“I didn’t see anything. I can forget it, I promise.”
“Forget.” His lips twitch into something that’s not quite a smile. “You’re not good at that, Cameron. It’s in your eyes, I know it. I know everything, Cameron. What was it? Tell me.” His tone is soft, coaxing.
“Nothing,” I whimper.
“You’re a smart kid, Cameron, who just did something incredibly fucking stupid. Why do you think you can play me, Cam? You think I don’t know what you’re doing?”
I try to speak, to double down into some mythological finality that could free me. “I didn’t–” but he cuts me off, hand slamming down on the desk beside me and the sound cracking through the room like a gunshot. I flinch, pressing back further.
“Even what you find inadvertently has consequences,” he sneers.
“I– Coach–” I sputter.
His eyes flash and before I can react, his fist connects with my jaw with such force that my head snaps to the side. Pain explodes across my face, and I stumble, my hands scrabbling at the desk to keep from following. I taste copper– no, it's blood trickling from my lip. His curls bounce as he leans in, face twisted with darkness so deep-cut it’s diabolical, demonic. His fingers dig into my shoulder and he pushes me out the doorway. I stumble back and fall onto the tile, my skin squeaking from the friction and leaving a trail of thickened blood drops behind me. I gasp for air while Finn looms over me, walking out into the hallway.
He yanks me up, my feet scrambling for purchase on the tile. He shoves me again, hard, sending me stumbling back into the locker room. I crash into a row of faithful lockers, blocking me from collapsing to the ground. I gasp for air, my lip dripping blood onto my chest, staining my bare skin.
“You thought you could snoop and get away with it,” Finn snarls, voice booming through the empty locker room. He’s on me in two strides, and I brace, leaning into the impact to do anything to resist. I twist as his face just barely grazes my jaw, garnering enough momentum to sidestep.
“Coach! Stop!” I choke.
“You don’t get to tell me what to do, Cam,” he roars, his hand swinging at my chest. I bring my forearms up to block him, but the strike still leaves my bones humming with a fresh wave of pain. I fall again into the lockers. He’s relentless.
“Please,” I sob, the pain so intense and dull that I can't even pull in a full breath.
“You can’t play me,” he bellows, grabbing my throat with his massive hand and crushing my windpipe. I claw at his wrist, my nails digging into the skin and prying, but it’s like peeling stone. His other forearm slams into my chest, pinning me against the lockers, the metal grating into the soft tissue of my back. “You saw my secrets. The photos. The book. You’re never gonna get away from that.” He tightens even more, my vision spotting as I struggle to breathe.
I twist, desperate, but he’s way too strong. His fist comes again, this time catching me in the stomach, the blow folding me over his hand on my throat, forcing a choked gasp from my lips. My knees muscle, but he yanks me upright again, slamming me so hard that the metal buckles. “You’re mine.”
The locker room turns into a tomb as Finn drops me to the ground. I could try to beg, to promise my silence again, but he’s so far past reason it’s like he’s not even human. I could fight. I will fight. I’m going to die. That’s it. That’s all it would be. I get up, slowly, but it’s enough for Finn’s eyes to widen. I’m not done. I lunge at him, striking his jaw with my tired arm and pushing my shoulder into his stomach to shock him, but it hardly does anything other than renew his hatred. He yanks me forward by the throat and then hurls me to the ground with earth-shattering force. My head bounces. I can hear my skull crack and the warmth of blood on my hair. It stings.
A sharp gasp escapes me, and I realize I should be dead. No person could survive that. My head bounces back onto the tile. I’m dead. I try to roll, but Finn sprawls over me, his massive body dropping to straddle my hips, his weight crushing me into the floor. I can't move, even if Finn weren't on me. My body and head feel separate. I can feel air rushing into my body and almost inflating me. I can feel it exchanging in my veins with my blood now on the ground.
“You little shit. You think you can fight me?” His hands grab my jaw, fingers digging into my tender flesh until his nails pop under my skin. I thrash, my fists swinging in desperation as he digs into the meat of my neck. I swing. Swing again. I writhe. One fist catches his shoulder, and the other catches his chest, but my knuckles crack and my fingers shatter. He grabs my scalp and tears my hair back to lift my eyes to him. His eyes have gone black, and his teeth begin to fall out of his head onto my neck and chest. One by one. Some bounce off my muscle and clatter onto the floor, others leave trails of spit which settle into the cups of my collarbone. He drools on my face and his fingers pulse. I can feel them digging through me, but then I feel nothing at all.
“I love you,” he mutters.
I love you.
I love you.
“It’s not meant to explain,” he continues.
I love you.
I love you.
“Wait for me to return.”
I love you.
I love you.
“Love is beautiful,” he smiles and his molars fall from his mouth onto my face. “Don’t you agree?” Blood pours from his mouth and into my eyes, mouth, up my nose, but I can still see him.
I love you.
I love you.
“Isn’t it painful? Doesn’t it hurt?” The locker room begins to go black. “Such a wonderful pain. It’s for love.”
I love you.
I love you.
“You just want to be loved,” he croaks, his face turning to a void other than his blond hair framing it. Then, it too begins to fall generously, framing my head while it soaks up some of the blood on tile and turns deep red. “Don’t you wish someone loved you?” His weight pushes me below the tile, through the concrete, completely crushing my body until I can feel the cold, moist dirt of the earth below me. I gasp, reaching up back until my fingers just barely graze the humid air of the locker room. Everything goes.
I do.
I do.
I do.
The last of his hair covers my face and everything turns to nothing. No sound, no feeling. His body is gone. His face is gone, until light returns again. I jolt awake, a weak groan escaping my lips as I rise from the bed, my skin sticky and cold. I fall back into Reuben’s arm and it secures me, but he doesn’t wake. I gasp, then swallow. I run my fingers over my ribs, my jaw, my lip. No blood. No broken fingers. I exhale sharply and hold Reuben’s hand against my chest.
