Will We Ever See the End? (Fransykes)

Will We Ever See The End?

*(okay, so there is a bit of unwilling sex in this first chapter. There was alcohol involved, and no I do not believe that it makes it okay, just please give the story a chance it will all be explained in chapter 2)*

"Oli s-stop, you're hurting me." Josh whimpered as I grabbed his pale wrist between my slim, cold fingers.

"Shut the fuck up!" I slurred, my drunken state reflecting in my voice and actions. I was out of it, a raging mess that couldn't be dealt with.

"Oliver let go of me, you're hurting me... I-I don't want this!" Josh begged, knowing what I was going to do to him, even before I did.. I didn't .. I didn't mean to hurt him.

"Ahh now, we're just gonna have a little fun! Like you did with that guy behind my back!" I cackled, watching his face contort as I tightened my grip on his wrist. I could feel his pulse with how tightly I squeezed, yet that only made me more angry and hold him harder.

"Now get on your knees Josh.." I instructed, my voice and features abruptly changing to blank and indifferent. I didn't know what I was doing. I was so out of it. I felt like I wanted to scream at him and punch him, but at the same time I just wanted to break down and sob and cry on his shoulder. All these conflicting emotions inside me clouding my judgment and no matter how much I didn't really want it either; the anger opened up some ravenous, grueling part of me that wanted it so badly. It wanted the pleasure of seeing him suffer for what he'd done, and my only sense of good will or logic made me start to feel nauseous; but that didn't stop me either.

"N-no Oli" He struggled against my grip, thrashing and trying to loosen the hold I had on him so he could run, get away from me and the monster I was turning into right in front of his very eyes.

"This isn't you... Please, I'm so sorry Oli. It was just a kiss, one time.. I'm sorry.." He choked out. "Please, look at me. You claim to love me?.. I don't want this Oliver. If you love me, you'll me go and won't do this to me while you're drunk and angry." He looked up at me hopefully, expectantly; and I looked back into his beautiful, captivating, icey blue orbs. They were the first part of him I ever fell in love with, as soon as I met him I loved his eyes. They held so much beauty and it made me feel cheated that mine were so plain. I melted, looking into his eyes, my love coming through. I could feel my grip loosening.. Yet, only briefly before the anger came back, and I was shoving him to the ground again; looking anywhere but into those eyes.

"Just get on your fucking Knees." I snapped, raising up my foot and kicking the back of his knee so hard he finally fell. He landed with a thud and let his head fell low, a part of me was glad that I wouldn't have to look him in the eyes as I defiled him; I didn't know if it was the good part or the bad. But now I know the lines of those two sides of me are very thin, sometimes nonexistent.

I stabled myself, my previous actions almost sending my intoxicated body crashing down on top of his kneeling, sobbing form. He looked so innocent, and that evil drunk induced part of me wanted to take that from him. My stomach churned, like hot and cold mixing, freezing me and scalding me at the same time. I knew I would regret it. I didn't know what I was doing; but oh god, yes I did. I fumbled with my pesky zipper until I finally got it open and pulled myself out, the cold air shocking me as I let out a shaky breath.

"Oh come on baby, don't cry. You know you want me." I teased, the alcohol fueling me and making my confidence soar. It was like fire in my veins. I felt happy, it was a cloak over everything I was really feeling. my movements were sloppy along with my speach and decisions, all complemented with a pounding head ache and drastically changing moods. Everything made no sense, but what I was doing felt right even though all I could focus on was that it was wrong.

"Oli, you're drunk... please just stop.. I don't want you" he cried, more tears spilling down and across his porcelain cheeks. Watching the man you love cry can break you, but not when you're a intoxicated monster like me. I just got angry. How dare he say that he doesn't want me. I was his, and most of all he was mine. This was his fault. He's the one who be trade my trust. He did this, he can't blame me. How dare he even speak like that to me, I know I couldn't gave him much; but I gave the world, everything I ever fucking had. He threw it all away for some nothing that used to hold his heart. I've been cheated and now he has to pay the penalty. It's good that he doesn't want me, I don't want him to. I want him to pay.

I roughly pulled at his pants until they pooled around his ankles on the off colored tan carpet, his black boxers following, leaving his bottom half exposed to me, even with tears streaking down his pitiful face, he still looked beautiful to me. To beautiful. No one deserves to be that exceptional, especially not when he uses it to hurt me. I can take it all from him and I'll be the only one left for the broken boy I created. He'll always love me, he'll have no choice. I have to do this. I love him.

"Will you turn around, or will I have to force you?"

He followed my instruction, and he braced  himself against the wall. I could no longer see him crying, but his Shoulders where still moving in jerky moments that couldn't have meant much else. I grabbed his trembling hips in my shaking fingers and placed myself at his entrance, my hands automatically rubbing soft circles into his skin like I would have. I pushed into him slowly, moaning at the feeling of his tightness around my dick, my hips meeting his as I buried my length deep inside him. It felt so good. I was so bad. The voice telling me how wrong I was faded and only the part egging me on and the pleasure were remaining.

"Oli stop i-it hurts, please stop!" Josh yelled, his voice thick and breaking as he let his head fall beneath his shoulders in defeat. I had won and he knew it, and really that only gave me more satisfaction. I had made him pay for hurting me, by hurting him a thousands times worse. But that didn't register in my anger, all that did was that he deserved it.

I stayed silent. I didn't care, it was pleasurable for me, that's what mattered at this point. I kept moving in and out of him, focusing on how he felt around me, I didn't want it to end. I pushed myself in a little harder and at an angle, a gasp making it's way out of Josh's mouth, a moaning tumbling out of mine soon after. I smirked, I could still make him feel pleasure, and really that pleased me more than making him pay.

I moved to his his neck, sucking and biting, the pink remnants encouraging me to make more. For a moment the situation slipped away from me, I was back. I was Oliver, not some drunk monster. Although those are one in the same. But still, I was taking his virginity like I had always wanted, his little whimpers and moans that he tried to hold back were only pushing me further from the situation and into my own ecstasy. I loved him, that was all I could think. And instead of anger and hate and sadness fueling me, now it was pure lust. I wanted him and in these last few minutes I could pretend he wanted me too. It was like my wish on a shooting star had finally come true and I was going to enjoy it until my peak.

I pushed into him harder, sucking and nibbling on his pale neck, my hands still working to rub circles into his trembling thighs. His quiet moans and sniffles only increasing each time I thrust into his tightness. My speed began to pick up and my thrusts got even sloppier as time went by. I listened to the sound of skin hitting against skin, those being the only noises until Josh finally let out a loud moan, throwing back his head as he came, his length untouched and neglected. He clenched around me as he reached his peak, his breathless throaty moans and groans like music to my ears and soon enough I was spilling into him, my loud cries blending with his.

I pulled out of him slowly, helping him to stand straight, running my hand up and down his spine. I pulled up my pants and allowed him to do the same, watching as he tried hard to wipe his tears. He turned to face me, his head still hung low, his eyes resting on his worn converse as he struggled to get his breathing under control. It was gone, it was gone. The hate, the anger, the sadness, the resentment, it was all gone. In front of me was the boy I love and I had just hurt him so irrevocably bad. The good me, the sane me, knew I couldn't do anything to fix this.