"Break it up you two! Don't make me say it again!"
Damn it! I was just about to knock his fucking teeth out! Stupid fucking cunt! I'm seething, teeth bared, fists ready.
"He started-" I began.
"Save it. Both of you clean up and report to my office immediately!"
The tone of his voice leaves no room for argument so I pick myself up, glaring dangerously at Azrael and just about manage not to spit a mouthful of blood from my split lip in his stupid smug face.
"Nice fight, Snow White, maybe next time-" I block out his taunting voice and turn to go and get cleaned up. He knows I hate him calling me that. My dad's side of the family suffers from premature leukotrichia. So by the time I reached about 15, my previously black hair had all but disappeared and instead I had a halo of white hair. I tried dying it for a while but just ended up looking like a skunk so I left it.
But
Christ!
To think I used to love that areshole! He's a right royal prick. I return to my room and manage to calm down slightly. I peer at myself in the mirror and wince. My lip is swollen and there's a welt forming under my eye.
Just fucking brilliant
I think irritably.
"Why do I keep letting him get to me?" I voice, dabbing cautiously at my lip. My green eyes stare back at me reflecting my mind's confusion. I sigh and let my mind wander back to the time when Azrael and I were almost inseparable. We were at college and at a time where I was struggling with my sexuality, Azrael had come along and assured me that being gay was nothing to be ashamed of. I remember our first meeting vividly; him pressing me up against my locker, licking the back of my neck and shoving a piece of paper in my hand.
I remember being mortified and embarrassed, blushing to the roots of hair, realising that people had seen the exchange. I slammed the locker door shut and fled to the nearest toilet, locking myself in a cubicle and breathing hard. I waited until I knew I was alone and then opened the folded paper.
Snow white.
Meet me in the gym at 4pm. Don't keep me waiting, gorgeous.
Azrael.
Oh. My. God. What am I going to do? There is
no way
that me, Ares Luca, virginal at 18 and counting was going to meet sex god, Azrael. His reputation at college was legendary. There was
no way
. So I did the sensible thing, threw the piece of paper away and went to class determined to forget all about it. As soon as the bell signalled the end of the day I high tailed it and sped home, grateful for the four walls of my room. I was feeling very pleased with myself until the doorbell rang and I answered the door.
"Hey, Snow White." Azrael stood there, grinning mischievously. " Did someone run away from me?" he mock-admonished, pushing past me into the house.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! Ok, excuse time...um...LIE!
"Um...no, I forgot and then I had to....um...and..." What the
fuck
was
that
!
"You didn't
really
forget, Snow White. I saw you legging it down the road. It's a good thing I'm in good shape otherwise I would have lost you."
Well...I couldn't argue with that. The shirt he was wearing should be criminal the way it clung to his hard, hot, sexy...whoa!
Concentrate!
I blushed again and started stammering. His presence intimidated me and I knew no doubt that he was using this to make me feel uncomfortable. He sprawled on the couch and patted the space next to him, indicating that I should sit. I started to refuse but he grabbed my arm and almost pulled me on top of him. He nuzzled at my neck and I groaned. I managed to pull away before I completely submitted and stood behind the couch putting distance between us.
"What do you want, Azrael?" I gasped out.
"I love your hair, Snow White. Why is it like that?"
He practically has me begging for him and
that's
what he chooses to come out with?
Is he for
real?
I think incredulously.
"You didn't answer my question."
"Neither did you, Snow White."
Damn he's infuriating!
"Genetic predisposition" I say, unwilling to divulge more until he gives me the reason why he's here.
He grins at me slyly and manages to gracefully vault his 6" 4 frame over the couch, catching me unawares. He lunges at me, grabbing both my hands and pinning them over my head as he manoeuvres my back against the wall. He brushes his lips over mine softly before leaning in and possessing my mouth completely, licking at my bottom lip then sucking delightfully on my tongue.
He pulls his mouth away and his cobalt blue eyes bore into me as he presses his muscular frame against mine. "You want to know why I'm here?" I nod helplessly, my lips swollen as his eyes and hands keep me pinned.
He begins grinding his hips into me as he speaks, angling his cock against mine. "I've been watching you for some time now. I never knew
just
how exciting swimming could be until I saw you in those tight black shorts." He groans as if trying to keep his composure. "Those legs, that chest and oh that arse!" I can feel him grinning as he breathes in my ear. A blush stains my cheeks and my cock responds. "What I want is to teach you how it feels."
"How what feels?" I ask breathlessly, my hips metering out their own rhythm against my will.
"How it feels not to struggle with who you are. That it's ok to be different without fear and shame." With a particularly vicious thrust of his hips, he whispers conspiratorially, "It's ok to be gay."
"I never said I was-" He interrupts me.
"You didn't have to, I used to have that same look once, haunted and afraid, but I've accepted who I am and I want you to do the same." He intones. "I want to teach you things that'll make your toes curl and your throat hoarse from screaming. Will you let me teach you those things?" His hips are at a frenzied pace now and I realise I'm hard but still I'm resisting.
"Why me?"
"Because you're pure and innocent and you're not like everyone else. That intrigues me. You've never thrown yourself at anyone, let alone me. I want you more than I've wanted anyone before. Just looking at you and your beautiful white hair is enough to get me hard."