Yes, Mr. Demon Boy? (BoyxBoy)

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Two

Damien

It was Friday, the end of the week. I was miserable, appropriately so, and did not plan on enjoying any bit of the impending weekend. Not even the giant chocolate chip "Friday cookies" the lunch ladies made at the end of every week. Once again, I was absolutely a mess. Sam wasn't going to be in my life anymore, he had replaced me with the Cook kid. I was no longer looking forward to sixth period, but dreading it and the longing looks the two would share from across the room. The ones we used to share in the very same place.

I had lost. Lost the love of my life. I had lost my best friend.

So imagine my devastation when I got out of my car to see him still sitting in the drivers seat of his Impala, hand gripping the back of the passengers seat as he moaned with pleasure, eyes rolling towards the back of his head. And imagine my utter surprise when I swore, heart thumping, and began walking away, only to run right into the boy I thought had his mouth wrapped around Sam's dick.

Dylan.

"Woah, sorry Mr. Rush! Didn't see you there! Hey, have you seen Sam by any chance?"

My mouth opened, then closed. My mind swirled with possibilities of who could be in that car with him. Chase? Bryce? Maybe even Troye?

But then the passenger side door popped open right as Dylan mumbled a "Never mind, catch ya later sir" and I honestly had to do a double take when a flaming red mop of long curls and a skirt way too short for school jumped out of his car.

Wasn't Sam gay?

I was frozen, but not because I was paralyzed with devastation and self-pity like I was yesterday when I stood at Sam's door, but because I was utterly mystified. Why on earth was Tessa Jones sucking Sam off before first period?!

I didn't have time to ponder the question further, because my attention was suddenly occupied by the scene evolving in front of me.

Sam had gotten out of the Impala, still scrabbling to buckle his pants as he jogged up to Dylan who had given up his resolve and was headed for the school.

"Dylan, wait up!" He called, his pants finally done. At the sound of Sam's voice, Dylan turned around, cheeks blazing red as he responded with a small tentative wave that told me they so did stuff yesterday. Stuff that belonged to Sam and I and Sam and I alone. The intimate stuff. The good stuff. It pissed me off.... Boy did I want to walk over there and snap his neck with the quickest flick of my wrist, but I refrained.

"So I know you had fun with me yesterday," Sam boasted, a cocky edginess and egotistic tone to his voice that I had never heard from him before. Like ever. Sam was always modest and humble in front of others. The only time he had ever sounded remotely self-centered was in bed, but damn, that was justified.

After Dylan had bashfully agreed, Sam asked him to come over again tonight. Dylan of course nodded, then replied with something like "but we have to at least do some homework."

This, I guess, was comical to Sam, because he chuckled before slapping Dylan on the shoulder and responding with:

"Nah dude, lets be honest, you're going to be sucking my dick," in complete and utter seriousness.

Dylan's mouth hung open. So did mine.

Sam has never even asked me to suck his dick. I mean of course I have, but he's never asked. I've just done it; he's too much of a gentleman to request it himself.

So I didn't blame Dylan for practically sprinting away from him, red faced and scandalized as Sam stood there unfazed.

Until little miss cocksucker latched on to his arm.