Chapter 6 Oliver
Oliver
I feel like I’ve unlocked a different universe.
I know these photos, these videos, so well.
From looking at them secretly, in my room late at night, or from sneaking a peek at CamboyChaos during History class when I damn well know I shouldn’t.
When I look at his cock now, I’m in disbelief.
That cock has been inside me.
Deep-throated me.
And it looked even better in person.
It’s less than 24 hours before I realize Niko isn’t going to do any of this my way.
He starts posting pictures of us on his public profile the next morning, after coming up behind me and grabbing a selfie of the two of us in Onyx House kitchen.
He’s already trying to lay the groundwork for our budding “relationship.”
He asks me to join him for lunch a few hours later. Demands that I get lunch with him, actually, to talk about our plans.
He’s a whore for social media to begin with, but from the moment we agreed to each other’s terms, he’s already been making it his little pet project to craft a believable public story.
I meet with him in the Kettle, the smaller dining hall on campus, and I feel like I’m trying to contain wildfire.
“I just got to the Crimson campus, so nobody would buy that we’re boyfriends already,” he tells me from across the table before we’ve even sat down.
I reach over and push on his shoulder. “Shh. Keep your fucking voice down.”
He looks at me like I’m insane. “Nobody’s going to hear, Ollie.”
The Kettle is busy today, though. The dining hall is styled like a tavern, with thick wooden beams along the ceiling and walls and pendant lights above each table.
Students are walking in every direction with trays full of food, talking and laughing. Usually, it’s the coziest place on campus.
With Niko around, it’s practically overstimulating.
Or maybe Niko just makes me feel that stimulated no matter where I am.
“You underestimate the Crimson gossip mill. Last thing we need is someone catching wind of this being fake and spreading the rumor at lightning speed.”
He rolls his eyes at me.
I watch him push up the sleeves of his crisp white hoodie, revealing the colorful tattoos on his forearms.
I notice a small tattoo of a knife, a bigger one of some sort of orange flower, and a tiny black cat, but there are more that wrap around that I can’t make out.
It’s strange to be across the table from him.
His hair looks messy in that typical model way that manages to look perfect, and his cheekbones are even more prominent under the pendant light above the table. He has one silver piercing at the top of one ear, and his necklace hangs at the front of his hoodie.
You always were so much fucking cooler than me.
Exuding confidence and sex appeal like an aura around you.
And now I’m sitting here, brought into your orbit.
I force myself to stop staring at him as he sets his phone down on the tabletop between us.
He shows me what he’s planning to post.
“This is a perfect picture,” he explains. “It’s casual.”
It’s a photo of us that he just took a minute ago, where he’s looking at the camera, sipping on a glass bottle of cherry soda while I stand at the edge of the table with my food tray in front of me.
“So you’re going to make people think we’re casually becoming friends, then gradually start to post more coupley pictures?”
“That’s right.”
I watch him caption the photo with one fire emoji then send it off without a thought.
A fizz of nervous excitement hits my veins.
Something is finally happening.
It’s like I’ve been waiting and waiting for what feels like a lifetime for anything to happen in my life.
It’s always been too… predictable.
I was fundamentally alone throughout all of elementary, middle, and high school. At home, I was the oldest of three siblings, and my sister and brother were too young to be relatable. At school, I was so quiet that I was ignored.
I finally started looking better in the last year or two, but I’d thought that my first semester at college would be an explosion of action, where people would throw themselves at me during parties and I’d be drowning in sex.
But it’s happening to everyone else.
People tell me I’m hot. They say I could get anyone I wanted. But everyone’s always hooking up with someone else, or they’re in a relationship already.
I’ve ended up in bed alone every night.
Still.
Fucking.
Alone.
It’s halfway through fall semester by now, and I’ve failed to get any action at all.
Doing this with Niko is all fake, yes.
But it’s something.
A break from the daily monotony of my life.
“So,” Niko says from across the table, finishing a sip of his cherry soda. “When’s the last time you jerked off?”
I lift an eyebrow.
Break from monotony, unhinged model edition.
“Anyone ever tell you you’re a natural at small talk?”
He hums. “I’m an expert at it. Maybe it’s how I should make small talk in the line at the grocery store, too.”
I take a bite of my sandwich and then chug some water, leaning back in the booth seat.
“Why do you care when I last came?”
“Because I want to go back to your room after this and make you strip, have you put your cock in your fist, and get off for me while I film you.”
He sips his cherry soda, looking at me calmly.
I hate that I’ve always been quick to blush.
I can feel the heat creeping up to my cheeks now, and I know he’s going to be able to see it.
“Damn. Take a guy to lunch first, won’t you?”
He just shrugs. “Could do it tomorrow, if you’re busy. I don’t really care.”
I shift on the leather booth seat. “Can’t you ever act normal?”
“Fuck no. Normal is boring. What do you even mean?”
“Like… maybe asking me what my favorite TV show is, instead of grilling me about when I last came?”
He puts his hand on mine on top of the table, squeezing the back of my hand.
“Sure, blushy. Tell me what TV show you ignore in the background when you’re really watching my videos.”
“You're obsessed with yourself, Berlant.”
He slides his hand away from mine but holds my gaze. “Fine. What's your favorite show?”
“Wheel of Fortune.”
Niko snorts.
“What? What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing. I just didn’t expect you to say that. Thought you’d give me some fake tough-guy answer and name a crime drama, or something.”
“You put on a tough guy act, not me.”
“You think it’s an act?” he asks, lifting an eyebrow. “Name a guy you dislike in this dining hall and I'll go knock him out for you.”
“Quit it.”
“I would.”
“Because you crave violence.”
“I’m allowed to have a little fun,” he says. “You know, if anyone puts a hand on you, I will have to hurt them. If I’m pretending to be your boyfriend, I'm not going to hold back.”
“Trust me, no one’s going to touch me.”
“Oliver, all the women and half the men in this room probably want to touch you, students and staff included. I want to bend you over this table and take you with everyone watching. Stretch open that tight hole and get you used to me.”
I shove a forkful of mandarin orange slices in my mouth so I don’t have to come up with words to say right now.
I keep my eyes down on the worn tabletop because I'll blush again if I'm looking at his eyes, and I know that’s what he wants.
“Yo,” a voice comes from behind me.
Noah appears at the side of the table, carrying a tray of food.
“Hey, Noah,” I tell him.
He plops down on the seat next to me and drops his tray on the table, not bothering to ask about joining us.
Noah’s probably the least shy person I’ve ever met, and I admire him for it even if I can’t imagine being as carefree as him.
“Sup, Niko?” Noah asks, reaching over to give Niko a fist bump. “How are you settling in?”
“My boxes arrived this morning,” Niko explains. “Moved the rest of my shit in. Guess I’m a real Onyx Society member.”
“Sorry they stuffed you in the room with Roman and Daniel. We managed to find a third bed, and their room is the biggest.”
Niko shrugs. “It’s okay. I’ll kick Ollie to the couch and steal his bed if I ever need some space.”
Noah laughs. “Solid plan. How’s Crimson handling your classes, since you’re starting late in the semester?”
“There are a couple of accelerated courses that start this week. They’re usually meant for a foreign exchange program, but they’re letting me in.”
“Banger,” Noah says, taking a sip from a smoothie.
“Need to grab napkins. You guys need anything?” Niko asks.
“All good.”
Niko gets up and heads over toward the center of the dining hall.
“Fuck,” Noah says when Niko’s out of earshot. “He looks like he should be in a pinup calendar for 12 Months of Hot Edgy Boys.”
“He’s always been like that.”
“I like him, even if he’s like a black cat that’s about to hiss. You going to fuck him, Ollie?”
“You have such a one-track mind.”
“You’re the fuck machine. Well, I guess I am too. Maybe I’ll fuck him.”
A flare of possessiveness hits my blood, even though Niko’s not really mine at all.
“No. You do not want to do that, I promise you,” I tell him.
A buzzing sound comes from the tabletop.
Noah’s eyes glance downward to Niko’s phone, which is still in the center of the table.
When I look down I see that two direct messages just popped up on the screen, both in response to the photo he just posted.
One is from someone called “Michelle Nightclub.”
Michelle Nightclub: Cute. You going to be back in town soon? Check the new jewelry I got. Come play with it.
Below it is a small preview of the image she attached. It’s a naked pic of a very cute redhead who I assume is Michelle.
Her pierced tits are the main focus in the photo, and she’s clearly trying to show Niko the new nipple jewelry she just put in.
Damn.
Your fuckboy reputation gets you a lot more interesting texts than my reputation ever does.
But the other text is worse.
It’s from Callum, Niko’s ex.
Callum: Why is the AmEx credit card being declined? Did you change the PIN?
Send me that PIN. I don’t want to come to Crimson College, but I will be forced to if you keep ignoring me.
And who’s that in the pic? New guy for you to fuck before you disappear on him like you did to me? This is why no one takes you seriously. Come back home.
My stomach turns.
I don’t know the details about Niko’s ex, but he always seemed controlling and manipulative, even just from seeing him post on Niko’s photos. Reading that text message confirms it.
Is that what Niko had to deal with?
Or was it actually much worse than that, in person?
“Something tells me we weren’t supposed to see those texts,” Noah says.
“No shit.”
A few moments later Niko returns to the table, his eyes landing on the lit-up phone right away. He just slides the phone over and shoves it into his pocket, keeping his eyes downcast at his food, not saying a word about it.
I’m mortified.
But luckily Noah’s able to smooth things over without missing a beat.
“Bro, the winter formal is going to hit this year,” Noah tells me. “Did Weston tell you guys that we’re hiring full catering and a live band?”
Over the next ten minutes, Noah tells me more plans he has for the party and Niko doesn’t even look up from his plate. Noah asks him a few questions, like if he enjoyed parties in high school or if he ever travels anywhere for Christmas, but Niko gives short, polite answers.
He finishes quickly, then finally stands up with his tray. “See you later, Noah. Ollie, can you show me where to put this tray?”
“Oh, it’s right over there,” Noah starts to say, but Niko ignores him, just staring down at me and waiting for me to move.
It takes a moment for me to get the hint.
Niko doesn’t need help with the tray.
He just wants me alone.
I stand up and quickly walk through the crowded dining hall with him. “Dude, Noah could tell there was something weird back there. Why did you make me do that?”
“Because I wanted an answer from you,” Niko tells me, putting his tray in the stack. “Would you rather I ask my question in front of Noah? Hey, Oliver, you going to come back after this and let me film you coming all over yourself for me?”
There’s a group of girls walking right behind us and one of them turns, giving us a look. Luckily they just keep walking.
“Can you keep your voice down for one fucking second? No. I have Econ class after this.”
Niko just gives me a curt nod. “K.”
Something deflates inside me at his short answer. He doesn’t get upset or demanding like I expected.
Did I actually want him to punish me for saying no?
I clear my throat, glancing to one side then back at him. “It would have to be later tonight.”
I can’t believe I’m standing here trying to negotiate the prospect of letting Niko film me.
Niko glances away, squinting toward the midday light coming in through a pained window. “Can’t tonight.”
“You can’t?”
“Got plans. Later, boyfriend.”
He gives me an upward nod but doesn’t elaborate any further on his plans before walking off through the dense crowd.
Disappearing like smoke in air.
Just like he always does.