Undercover Blue Riot (Transmigration)

Sign 1 One Last Time

Cyril, sixteen-year-old, a short white boy with black hair walked into his room with another boy who was about as tall as him. Cyril had tanned skin, blonde fringes, freckles all over his body and well-toned biceps. The brunette boy behind him was pale and skinny. Cyril's blue eyes looked into his brown eyes and he pushed him against the wall.

It was an Australian summer and they were both dripping in sweat. The brunette boy leaned towards him and kissed him gently as he removed his shirt. He removed Cyril's T-shirt while looking into his eyes. He smiled, "You've got a good body," He whispered as he slipped his hands down his wet body.

Cyril kissed his neck and moved his fingers across his hair as he went down into the sheets. Cyril's hands moved from that brunette hair to his pale back and his fingers dug into his flesh. He was running out of breath, panting and gasping every time he felt those cold fingertips on his skin.

His blonde fringes covered his red face.

"Wait," He moaned.
"What?" Those brown eyes were staring down at him as Cyril began crying. He rubbed his eyes and the lens came off but those brown eyes were staring at him.

"I don't know if what we're doing is right," Cyril breathed and swallowed a lump in his throat.
"I won't touch you if you don't want me to," He had a deep voice contrary to his frail-looking body.

"Nevermind me, continue," Cyril said.
"Are you sure?"
"No. I don't even know if I like you but I still want you to keep going,"
"If you're allowing it..." His wet hair slipped down his ears and covered his jawline, "Don't complain about it,"

Cyril clenched his eyes and his teeth,
"Look at me," His voice sounded deeper.
"No," Cyril moaned.
"Why?"
"I don't wanna. Just get done with it already,"

"Cyril, I'm trying to make it less painful for you,"
"Didn't ask, don't care,"
He narrowed his eyes, "Fine then, suit yourself,"

Finally, Cyril opened his eyes wide open as the pain increased. He shook his head, reassuring himself that it would be over soon. He looked at his brown eyes, staring down at him on places nobody had ever seen. His hands were cold but gentle.

He could feel each and every hair on his body. Every freckle on his body had accepted him. He felt his breath on his skin and grabbed his hair. He looked up and their eyes met as the sun shone from the curtains and lit up one of his brown eyes into a shade of orange, "Actually," Cyril looked at him, "I wanna ride, switch places"

He got up on his knees and looked down at him, his brown eyes were shining orange under the blazing sunlight and he tore open a condom packet with his teeth, "No, bend over"

"CYRIL," Cyril's father opened the door to his room. He was an old, blonde man with rippling muscle. He wore a white vest and camo print flat-front trousers. He looked at Cyril sitting on his bed in his blue boxers and a back sweatshirt, staring outside the window. The sun was shining on his heterochromatic eyes and his skin was red.
"Can't you hear me at once?" His father said and Cyril turned towards him, "Yes, dad?"

"What is this?" He pulled out a box of condoms from his pocket, "I found it in your jeans,"
Cyril's face went pale, "This is...We got it at school workshop,"
"A workshop," His dad nodded, "Do you think I'm an idiot?"
"Why...Why would I think that?"

"Mr Edwards, you've been bringing home a boy, haven't you?"
Cyril got up from his bed, "We're just friends,"
His father walked up to him and looked into his eyes. He had sea-green eyes, Cyril looked down.

He grabbed his collar, "Your mother found a used condom in your room while cleaning it up,"
Cyril looked into his eyes, "And you haven't brought any girls home, the only person who has been coming here is that bloody twat!" He punched Cyril's face and he fell on his bed.