Reverse Rivalry

Aftershock

Jale felt like shit.

His brain was absolutely broken and stuck in maintenance. He didn't know how he found it in him to walk back to the bed last night with Skylar Lain in it, snoring away like the previous events didn't happen. In fact, he had stood behind the godforsaken thing and watched every single twitch, breath, movement the boy made before he forced himself to climb in. Jale had fought himself, suppressing the urge to just snatch the boy's pillow, shove it over his face and suffocate him. 

Jale had barely even slept regardless of the convincing bullshit he told himself.

His mind was hyperactive, overreacting and overwhelmed. He had yet to calm down, the throbbing of his cock in his shorts was a sure fact of that. His body was still remembering, replaying, doing every goddamn thing he didn't want it to do. He had resisted throwing up bile into the toilet after he had realized, he jacked off to the most despicable mammal to walk this earth. Jale wasn't a far cry away from passing out when he had stared at himself in the mirror, flushed and out of breath. It took a minute for him to internalize, he had enjoyed it. It had felt good. Shame had filled him to the brim causing him to almost crack the innocent mirror. On god's green earth, why?

Jale couldn't do it anymore, couldn't stay in the room, breathing the same tainted air as the bastard so he was up before dawn and without a word, he trudged out of the house after shrugging on training clothes. Jale couldn't look the psychopath in the eyes, no, how could he when just the slightest movements of the bastard sent a thrill through his manhood. The feeling was unexplainable. One kiss didn't mean his body was suddenly hard-wired to Skylar fucking Lain. Jale had stuffed his shirt in his mouth to stop himself from screaming in agony.

Jale's whole world had shattered from an earthquake and he hasn't recovered. Adding Skylar Lain's tyranny on that was suicide.

He knew the piece of shit was delighted down to his very bones about unravelling a secret Jale had buried inside him for years. He could still imagine the smug grin, that irritating smile just covering half of the bastard's face if he ever stood in front of him. Jale resisted the reflex reaction of his stomach wanting to cave in on itself.

How could he have made such a mistake? How could he have given in, no matter how enticing, no matter how sweet. He should have resisted falling so deeply into that honey trap.

Skylar Lain strived on anarchy, strived on tearing Jale down to his measly fragile core.

Jale came to a stop at the edge of the neighbourhood where a series of boring white small houses littered. A tall lamp post stood above his head. The cold air brushed against the nape of his neck. He huffed seeing his breathing form to mist. He stared blankly. He lifted his hand to block his view of the sidewalk. His palm was white. Jale stared until his vision began to blur and droplets landed in the middle of his hand.

Jale knew he was crying. He could feel the sordid tears form in his eyes and fall, yet no sound came from his lips. There should have been pain, fear, something that made him hurt but he felt nothing. There was just useless water falling. If anything, it was pathetic.

Jale turned while wiping the tears out of his eyes. He pushed his whole body into drive, stuffing his hands into his pockets. He couldn't avoid that waste of space even if he tried moving everything on the planet. He had no other choice in the first fucking place. He was going to be stuck in the same place as the psychopath for how long he didn't know. He didn't give a fuck.

Even now. His fist was itching to meet Skylar's face. Unforgivable was an understatement, heck, had he ever forgiven the piece of shit for anything in the short span of fuckery he called a life?