"I fucking hate you."
"You shouldn't really say things like that when my dick is up your ass, Norris."
Two hot-headed athletes with overflowing rage and unwinding sex drive is very much never a good combo.
Bryce and Ian never see eye to eye on thing...
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A/N: To clear out everybody's confusion, Ian is short for AdrIAN. I honestly did not expect the ruckus about this one 'cause I thought it'd be obvious but I guess I was wrong. I'm sorry you guys aladksdk (PД'q。)·。'゜ Anyway, thank you for clicking on this book! Hope you can find my story worth your while~ ♡
Note for re-readers: please refrain from commenting ANYTHING that may give spoilers away for first time readers. Hinting about the current events in the story takes away the excitement from them, and you wouldn't want that if you were put in their shoes. Let's keep the comment section spoiler-free so that everyone can enjoy the story from start to finish. Thank you so much!
And if you're reading this and you know me irl: get the fuck OUT ONG ( ¬д¬。)
September 2018
He has had a lot of worst days.
But this day, in particular, is outrageously horrifying. His decision-making process? Beyond fucking diabolical.
"Fuck," Ian held his breath as he felt himself getting closer and closer to the edge, biting his lip hard until he got the taste of his own blood, fingernails scratching and digging into Bryce's skin.
He doesn't even remember how he got himself into this situation. He could be stupid at times, yes, but never had he fucking ever thought his stupidity could stoop this low. Minutes earlier, he was hell-bent on taking this guy down and shove his head down the pool, but as things turned out, he now has his dick shoved far up his ass. The amount of pleasure and anger he felt was creating chaos inside his head that he can't think of anything sensical to say.
Instead he moaned, legs wrapping tightly around the other boy's waist, mouth gaping, seemingly unaware of the pool of his own saliva that started to settle below his chin. Shame flooded him, but Ian can't find it in his will to care. He hates Bryce, but it's not his fault he fucks so damn good.
Droplets of sweat fell from Bryce's wet hair, eyebrows pulling together as his grip on Ian's waist grew tighter. The sound of their pants and groans echoed around the pool's shower room, skins slapping and breaths ragged. If someone heard and walked in on them right now, they for sure would be gloriously fucked.
Ian bit his lip, hands clasping on Bryce's shoulders as he felt every drag, every push. Rigid cords formed on the blond's neck as he closed his eyes shut, sounds of pleasure escaping his mouth while Ian just stared up at him and wished he had his phone so he can take a picture and rub it in the jerk's face later. He's always hated his face. The face that constantly told him that he sucks at swimming and he should probably just quit the team. This arrogant son of a bitch.
"You like that? Hm?" Bryce whispered next to his ears, licking the spot that he knew would make the boy's toes curl and sure enough, a strangled moan escaped him.
