Reverse Rivalry

Screw Me Over

This was backfiring harder than a machine gun.

The washroom was filled with noises and bad singing by the rest of the team. Water poured down over Skylar's face and trailed his naked muscles and skin. Everything around him was loud yet silent. His ears were suddenly selective. He couldn't hear anything but the shower slapping the tiles underneath his feet and the sound of the thin thread inside him being stretched to its limit. The white walls in front of him were blurry and misty seemingly just as drained as he was. He couldn't hold on any longer.

He bit his lips and folded his wet dripping fingertips into a fist. Overestimating his control was an understatement to how he was practically dying to just hold Kierson and do what he fucking wanted to him, even if he wanted to or not. He should have pride in his patience.

Skylar never deemed himself as inherently sexual, no one other than the golden boy could hold his attention other than few selected people he needed to keep up this goodwill farce.

He never desired something so much, it felt illegal to not have it in his arms at all times, trapping it in his embrace so they couldn't leave, not even breathe. Sticking his dick into anyone never gave him satisfaction but just an inkling of the fury of the boy's expression could rile him up for days on end like it was morphine. Jale Kierson was a semantic error. A real variable at its best. This was definitely more than an obsession.

Skylar didn't know how much Jale made him feel alive until his dick entered the picture. If the golden boy looked at him like he was begging to be fucked on the nearest surface one more time, he was throwing his plans to seduce the boy into caving straight into the trash.

He thought the coward would cave in one day, even from the first minute but Skylar knew he was giving in faster than Jale ever was. He could still feel his hole burning from the intrusion from before yet he wanted more, to feel it even more. He was regretting not taking the bastard yesterday when he was right there, at arm's length, trembling and ready for him.

It wasn't Jale that was stubborn. It was him. Why was he even manipulating this when it was plain and simple? Jale was plain and simple. He didn't need to wait on Jale to catch up. He just needed to show him what he was denying so why did he even think he needed to approach this like it was a mind game?

Why?

The water pelted his head hard and he could hear showers being switched off. Voices of his teammates heading out and only one other shower was still running.

Skylar felt something crawl down his chest. Maybe he was doing all of this because he was scared.

Maybe he was feeling that guilt he had been brushing off and ignoring. Denying that flashing red sign on his face because he was Skylar Lain. Maybe he dreaded the imminent rejection that Jale has every right to throw his way. It made sense. It was the fear he felt that convinced him he had to coerce an obvious situation where Jale had no other choice but to accept it, to accept him, regardless of everything he's ever done.

Skylar reached forward and turned the shower off and instantly, he was submerged into silence. The steam around him swayed about his bare body. He could hear another breathing in the room. He lifted his head and looked over the wall that reached his mouth and could only show his eyes.

He could see a wet blonde head swaying about in the shower some distance away. Like telepathy, Jale looked up and their eyes connected. Skylar went blank like his brain was wiped clean. It was misty but he could see everything inside the boy's eyes as clear as day. Jale didn't even utter a word but he could see his eyebrows slowly sinking into a frown and the anguish just slowly tainted and overwhelmed the vindictive blue.