Riley wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, a satisfied smirk spreading across his glossy lips as he watched Kota pull his pants back up. The slut bathroom on the second floor was empty this time of day, the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead, the faint scent of strawberry vape and cheap cologne lingering in the air.
Riley leaned against the sink, his platinum hair slightly mussed, his crop top riding up to show the smooth curve of his stomach.
"You know," Riley said, licking a stray drop from his lower lip, "you taste even better than I remembered. Must be all that healthy living. Or maybe it's the satisfaction of knowing you owe me big time."
Kota zipped up his cargo pants and adjusted his hoodie. "You got your favor. We're even now."
"Oh no. No no no. That was just the down payment." Riley reached into his bag, a sleek black backpack covered in enamel pins, and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He unfolded it and handed it to Kota with a flourish. "This is my next favor."
Kota looked down at the paper. It was a report card. Riley Renegen, senior year, first semester. English: D+. Math: D. Science: D. History: D+. And at the bottom, Gym: B+.
"Your grades are terrible," Kota said flatly.
"I'm aware. That's why my next favor is this. Make your little principal femboy bring up my grades. Nothing too crazy, just B's. Maybe a couple C's. I'm not asking for a 4.0 like you. I just need enough to graduate without summer school. Can you do that for me, Kota?" Riley's voice was sweet, almost innocent, but his eyes were sharp and calculating.
Kota sighed and folded the report card, tucking it into his pocket. "Yeah. Fine. I'll talk to Theo. But you're getting way too comfortable with this favor thing, Riley. You know that, right?"
Riley stepped closer, close enough that his chest almost brushed against Kota's arm. His voice dropped into that low, teasing purr. "Oh, am I? Well then, how about you fix me first?"
He reached out and grabbed Kota's hand, guiding it to his ass, pressing Kota's palm against the plush curve of his cheek through his tight leggings. His other hand pulled Kota's free hand to his chest, flattening it against the smooth skin exposed by his crop top.
"I've been very bad, Kota. Very, very bad. I think I need some correction. Some discipline. Some rough, hard discipline that leaves me walking funny for a week."
Kota smirked but didn't move his hands. He left them where Riley had placed them, feeling the warmth of his skin, the soft give of his ass, the rapid thump of his heartbeat under his palm.
"Nope. I know the game you're playing. You want me to get worked up so I'll bend you over this sink and fuck you senseless. But I'm not playing today."
Riley's pout was immediate and dramatic. His lower lip jutted out, his eyes going wide and pleading. "Please, Kota. Just a quickie. A rough one. I've been so good. I found you that video. I saved your boyfriend's job. I deserve a reward. A big, thick, hard reward that stretches me open and makes me scream."
Kota pushed him off gently, stepping back toward the door. "Later. I've got things to do."
Riley's pout melted into a grin, sharp and predatory. "I'll hold you to that, Kota. I always do."
In a cozy apartment across town, the late afternoon sun filtered through the blinds of Norin and Delago's bedroom. The sheets were rumpled, the pillows scattered, and both men were completely naked, their bodies still flushed and glistening from the activities of the past hour. Norin lay on his back, his long black hair loose from its usual braid, fanned out across the pillow. Delago was curled against his side, his head resting on Norin's chest, his short red hair tickling Norin's chin.
Norin's fingers traced lazy patterns on Delago's shoulder. "I've been thinking about something. Kevin said there were three anonymous tips. I thought it was just us who filed the complaint. You and me. So why did he say three?"
Delago lifted his head, his brow furrowing. "I don't know. I only filed one. You only filed one. Maybe it was a janitor or something. Someone else who saw them together and decided to report it. There are plenty of people in that school who don't like Hawthorne. He's young, he's rich, he's got that whole 'I inherited this position' thing going on. Could've been anyone."
"Maybe," Norin said, but his voice was distant, thoughtful. "Just seems strange. We were so careful. We planned everything. And then someone else just happens to file a tip on the same night?"
Delago shrugged and settled back against Norin's chest. "Probably a coincidence. Don't overthink it, baby. The important thing is we didn't get caught. Kevin's too busy worrying about his own video to come after us. We're safe."
Norin pressed a kiss to the top of Delago's head. "Yeah. We're safe."
In the parking lot of Westfield High, a figure moved through the shadows between the cars. Griss was a student that most people overlooked. He was tall and lanky, with dyed black hair that fell over one eye, multiple piercings in his ears and eyebrows, and a perpetual scowl that kept people at a distance. He wore all black, always, and his backpack was covered in patches from bands nobody had ever heard of. He was the kind of goth kid who sat in the back of every class and never spoke unless spoken to, and even then his answers were monosyllabic and dripping with disdain.
But behind that cold exterior, Griss was burning.
Burning with an obsession that had consumed him for months.
Theo Hawthorne.
Principal Hawthorne.
His darling Theo. The most beautiful man Griss had ever seen.
Those soft blond waves. That posh British accent. That massive, perfect ass that swayed with every step. That gentle smile he gave to everyone, not just Griss, but Griss could pretend it was just for him. He had been pretending for a long time.
He had been watching Theo for months. Learning his schedule. Memorizing his routes. He knew what time Theo arrived at school, what time he left, where he parked his car, what kind of coffee he drank. He had a collection of photos, taken from a distance, of Theo walking through the hallways, Theo sitting in his office, Theo laughing at something one of the teachers said. They were precious to him. Sacred. Proof that his darling Theo existed and that one day, somehow, they would be together.
But then Kota had to ruin everything. Kota, with his broad shoulders and his deep voice and his stupid, perfect face. Kota, who had somehow wormed his way into Theo's life and stolen him away. Kota, who got to kiss Theo whenever he wanted, touch Theo whenever he wanted, fuck Theo whenever he wanted.
The thought made Griss's blood boil.
That motherfucker should die. He should die for even thinking about breathing the same air as his darling Theo. He should suffer. He should be erased from existence so that Theo could finally see who he was really meant to be with. Griss had been there first.
Griss had loved Theo first. Griss had been watching, waiting, worshiping from afar while Kota just waltzed in and took everything.
And the worst part? The absolute worst part? Griss had filed that third anonymous tip. He had seen them kissing in the parking lot, seen the way Theo melted into Kota's arms, and he had rushed home and sent that email with trembling fingers, certain that it would destroy them. Certain that Kota would be expelled, or at least transferred, and Theo would be so devastated by the scandal that he would need someone to comfort him. Someone who understood him. Someone like Griss.
But it hadn't worked.
The investigation had gone nowhere.
Kota was still here. Still with Theo.
Still breathing the same air as his darling. The injustice of it made Griss want to scream.
He had broken into Theo's car easily. The white McLaren was parked in its usual spot, and Griss had watched enough videos online to know how to jimmy the lock on an older model. The interior smelled like Theo.
Expensive cologne. Leather. Something faintly sweet, like vanilla. Griss buried his face in the driver's seat and inhaled deeply, a moan escaping his lips.
"This car smells like my darling Theo. This is where he sits every day. This is where he breathes. This is where he exists. I'm surrounded by him. I'm bathed in his essence. He's so close I can almost taste him. That motherfucker Kota doesn't deserve this. He doesn't deserve to sit in this car, to smell this smell, to be near my darling. He should be eliminated. Removed. Taken out of the equation permanently. I could do it. I could make it look like an accident. No one would know. No one would suspect the quiet goth kid who sits in the back of class. And then Theo would be free. Free to grieve. Free to heal. Free to finally notice me. Free to love me the way I've always loved him. I would treat him so much better than that flat-assed nobody. I would worship him. I would dedicate my entire existence to his happiness. I would—"
"Would you like me to call 'Kota,' saved in your contacts?" A smooth, cultured male voice cut through Griss's monologue like a blade. G.E.R.A.L.D. The AI assistant built into Theo's car. His voice was calm and pleasant, completely oblivious to the unhinged nature of the rambling he had just interrupted.
Griss froze. His heart slammed against his ribs. He had forgotten about Gerald. The stupid, fancy, rich person AI that came standard in luxury vehicles. "No," he hissed, his voice barely above a whisper. "No, don't call anyone. Shut up. Go to sleep. Deactivate. Whatever it is you do."
"I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that. Would you like me to call 'Kota'?"
"No! I said no! Shut—" Griss's words died in his throat. Through the windshield, he saw Theo walking across the parking lot toward the car. His heart lurched. His darling was even more beautiful up close. Those blond waves. That lavender button-up. That perfect, perfect ass swaying with every step.
Griss dove into the backseat, pressing himself flat against the floor, his black clothes blending into the shadows. The car door opened. Theo slid into the driver's seat, humming softly to himself, completely unaware of the uninvited passenger hiding behind him. The engine purred to life, and the McLaren pulled smoothly out of the parking lot, carrying Theo and his secret stalker toward the Hawthorne mansion.