[No. No. Every single nerve in Petre's body wants to reach out for the other boy and hurt him. Make him kneel and bed for forgiveness.
Leave him alone - so what? So he can fuck around and believe the lie that he could ever be satisfied with just anyone else? No. What Ryan wants is a happy ending, and Petre has decided long ago that that's the last thing any of them will ever get.]
Look at me, Ryan.
[His eyes - ice blue, incisive and perverse - stare right at him, shifting from one eye to the other until he's sure the silence around them is so heavy they can practically feel it on their bones.
His next words are all orders. They slip into the brain and fester, buzzing with the urge to complete the task, lest something horrible happen in its stead.]
You're going to call John. You're going to tell him you want more. And when he says no, you're going to try to fuck him, and you're going to make sure it hurts. And when he fights back and leaves you here to bleed, you're going to let him. You won't tell a single soul about this conversation. You won't even think about it. This is all just between you and me. Got it?
[A pause. It's as though Ryan cut through Petre and what spilled out was acid.
He leans back, takes the barely touched cigarette and puts it out between his fingers. He doesn't feel like smoking anymore. This is a much better stress-relief. (There's no burn. Nothing can burn him.)]
no subject
Leave him alone - so what? So he can fuck around and believe the lie that he could ever be satisfied with just anyone else? No. What Ryan wants is a happy ending, and Petre has decided long ago that that's the last thing any of them will ever get.]
Look at me, Ryan.
[His eyes - ice blue, incisive and perverse - stare right at him, shifting from one eye to the other until he's sure the silence around them is so heavy they can practically feel it on their bones.
His next words are all orders. They slip into the brain and fester, buzzing with the urge to complete the task, lest something horrible happen in its stead.]
You're going to call John. You're going to tell him you want more. And when he says no, you're going to try to fuck him, and you're going to make sure it hurts. And when he fights back and leaves you here to bleed, you're going to let him. You won't tell a single soul about this conversation. You won't even think about it. This is all just between you and me. Got it?
[A pause. It's as though Ryan cut through Petre and what spilled out was acid.
He leans back, takes the barely touched cigarette and puts it out between his fingers. He doesn't feel like smoking anymore. This is a much better stress-relief. (There's no burn. Nothing can burn him.)]
Nod.