Chapter 11
Bastian Vos
Instead of going back to the dorm where he would find me, I went the opposite way towards where the other frat houses are to take the long way back.
I’m so sick of this game we are playing.
I hate being his dirty little secret but I also know that’s all this can be.
I don't expect him to come out, nor will I right now. But at least acknowledge the feelings between us. At least admit there is something there. I’m sick of feeling whiplash.
I just want to hear the words, even if I don’t deserve it for leaving him the way I did at camp.
But yet, I can’t stand that in public he’s a piece of shit to me.
I don’t know if he thinks in his head that it turns me on, because it doesn’t.
All it does is push me further away. I want to go back to camp— before everything got fucked up. Just him and me in the cabin.
“Man, practice was brutal,” I groan, and he laughs.
“It was but don’t say that shit outside of here. The others will purposely make your life hell,” he tells me, and I roll my eyes.
“Can’t be anything worse than what you’ve put me through over the years.” I chuckle, and his eyes widen.
“I’m not that bad. It’s harmless in the moment of hockey adrenaline. Did you expect me to be nice in the arena during a face off?” he asks, and I laugh even harder.
“You really don’t see how your words and actions can make someone feel, do you?” I accuse, and he gets in my face, pressing me against the bathroom door.
“Awe, do we have feelings now? Stop being a baby,” he says as his hand dips into my shorts. “You know you like it. It’s my way of telling you how bad I want you,” he states as he drags his fist up and down my length. I suck in a harsh breath when his thumb hits my tip.
“Fuck, Zan,” I moan as he bites down my jaw, licking my nipples. “W-what are you doing?” I whimper, but he doesn’t say anything as he sinks to his knees, pulls my shorts down, and takes my cock to the back of his throat, making my entire body shiver. “Shit.”
“See, my harsh words make you hard, Buttercup. This dick fucking wants it,” he says, licking the tip and making me moan. “How badly do you want me to wrap my sinful lips around your cock?” he asks as he cups my nuts, licking up and down my length.
“Stop talking and suck it, Zan. Jesus,” I growl, and he slaps my nuts but takes me into his mouth, swallowing around me.
“You fucking asshole,” I spit, but he sucks me so hard and slaps my balls again, then digs his fingers into my ass, pulling me closer to him.
So, I grab the back of his neck and force the rest of my cock down his throat.
He gags, and I do it again, making him choke.
“Just like that, fuck. I need more,” I tell him, releasing his neck, ripping his face off my cock.
Spit drips down his chin and I smirk. He gets to his feet and pushes me against the door.
“You want more. Then turn around,” he commands…
I’m so deep in thought that I don’t realize what is happening until I’m shoved so hard my knees hit the concrete, sending sharp pain up my thighs as I’m forced into the present.
I cry out and try to stand, but someone kicks the back of my knees, sending me flat on my face.
A hand presses against the back of my skull, scraping my skin against the concrete.
“Get off of me. What the fuck?” I scream, but laughter fills the space.
“You’re not welcome here, Faggot. Go back to where you belong,” some guy growls as a punch lands against my face, making my head bounce off the road.
What the fuck? My vision blurs but all I see are figures surrounding me.
I roll over with a groan, trying to sit up, but a boot to the chest knocks the wind out of me.
I gasp for air as they continue to laugh and circle me.
“Yeah, pervert. We don’t like your kind around here.
Fucking pussy bitch,” another one says, kicking me in the ribs.
I cry out, trying to get to my feet, but there’s too many of them.
Blood flies from my mouth as they beat me.
My face takes punch after punch as they continue to call me a faggot, a pussy.
Another kick to the ribs has me gasping for air as my chest is pulled up by my shirt and spit lands in my face along with another punch to the jaw.
Tears fall down my face. I don’t understand why I’m being attacked.
I was just walking. Yeah, I'm a bit tipsy, and I was going down memory lane, but I–I don’t fucking get it.
My body aches as the one holding me tightens his grip on my shirt, and I go to fight back, but the heels of boots crush my wrists, and I scream out for help, but all they do is laugh.
“He will never be gay for you! He likes girls. You fucking homo,” he spits again as blood drips down my mouth, nose, and chin.
Who won’t? I don’t even get the chance to understand and process the words before he smashes my chest down, forcing my back against the concrete.
The air in my lungs seize from the force and my head bounces off the gravel.
My eyes flutter as the sky above me spins.
They laugh while continuing to kick every inch of me, and as the laughter fades and the pain dissipates, all I can think about is why Zan would have me jumped for fucking loving him…
To be continued in BreakBully, coming soon to KU