The Master [MxMxM+]

36

Waking up quickly became a chore for Jet because there was really nothing for him to do, nothing to look forward to.

Just a new day with a new reminder that everyone was avoiding him like the plague.

He understood that putting Pierre in danger like that was horrible, part of him still hated himself for it. But why couldn't they just look past it?

This is what happens when you start to care.

As much as anything else, breakfast sucked. And Jet noted that the Master wasn't there.

He wasn't around a lot lately. And for the first time Jet could admit he would have felt better if he was.

He couldn't help but stare at Pierre the entire time. Then his eyes strayed occasionally to where Linder sat eating quietly and adjusting his glasses.

Linder didn't look at him but it was clear that Pierre was really trying not to look. And it stirred Jet's insides to see the hurt still very much visible in his eyes.

The beautiful man bit his bottom lip and inclined his head to stare at his plate.

Jet hadn't yet touched his food, he was too distracted, he wasn't even hungry at the least.

It was too much. He also noticed that just like him, Pierre wasn't actually eating.

Maybe he was the reason. Maybe he was making him so uncomfortable, maybe he was so disgusted with him he couldn't even stomach his food.

Why was he overthinking? Why did it even matter so much?

Jet suddenly pushed back his chair and got up. He got a few stares but only silence. Without a second thought, he walked away. Straight to the direction of his room.

The awkward silence at the table had proven to be too much for him. Usually he would even put a single thought to it, but now it bugged him. More than that, it irritated him.

Jet wasn't expecting it but someone followed him up.

When he swung the door shut and no sound came to assure him he'd shut it, he turned to see from the bed he'd dropped on.

Mason stood crossing his arms and watching him. "Do you feel good about yourself?" He asked.

Jet didn't even know where to begin to answer. He just stared back at Mason.

"You might think you're so perfect you have to make other people feel bad about themselves, and you might think it's so cool to say whatever you want to but people like you are like scum. You are disgusting," Mason walked towards him. "Next time, think twice about hurting Pierre, my patience tends to wear thin really quickly."

"Yes I'm disgusting, you don't think I know that?" Why was it hurting so much? "I'm sorry about putting Pierre through all that danger, I really am. Why won't anyone believe me?"

"Even after saying such vile things about him, you won't admit it. How could you even say that?" Mason's expression sent a chill down his spine. "You know, I thought you were trash, now I'm just sure."

Jet finally stopped to think about it. What he said? What the fuck? "What are you talking about."

"Don't act like you don't know exactly what I'm talking about."

"I really don't. What the fuck are you talking about?"

Mason uncrossed then crossed his arms again. Something like hope flashed across his face. But Jet wasn't going to believe his wishful thinking.

"Well that's for you and Pierre to talk about," he said.

Pierre wouldn't even talk to him. How was he supposed to get anything out of him?

The look on Mason's face when he looked back up wasn't so full of hatred anymore, it was just expressionless. In a way it was a relief.

Jet knew who he could talk to instead. It hit him like an idea bulb going bright in his head.

He walked past Mason, leaving him in the room. He wanted to get it all over with, needed to.

Linder would just have to tell him, at least he didn't hate him enough to still talk to him.

"Where's Linder?" He asked when he got to the door.

When Mason didn't answer, he kept on going. It couldn't be that hard to find him.

༻༺

Linder was making his way to what he assumed would be the library.

Jet despite himself stared at his skinny and tall frame. Linder was beautiful in the sort of way that he didn't have a clue about it.

His chest felt painful. A little, but painful nonetheless.

That was when he realized he haboured some sort of feelings for him, whether he liked it or not.

He stopped being a creep and walked to catch up with him.

"Why do you hate me?" Jet blurted out whatever came first to his mind.

He couldn't help himself as he gripped his Linder's wrist in his hand.

"Let me go," the other man said immediately he realized it was Jet, trying to break free.

Jet didn't let go, his hand tightened instead. It fucked him up that he liked the feel of Linder's hand in his.

Jet slowly loosened his grip then let him go when he felt Linder shaking slightly. "I'm not going to hurt you," he said.

Linder was oddly quiet. Way too quiet for Jet's liking. He noticed he kept his gaze to the ground, although tilted a little to the side.

Only after he stepped closer did he notice that Linder's eyes were shut tight through his glasses, like he was waiting for the blow that was never going to come.

"Linder?" Jet called worriedly. He didn't have to bend to look at his face, Linder was at the least an inch taller than he was.

The amount of pain in his eyes stunned Jet when the eyes finally pried open to look back at him. He barely felt it when Linder punched at his chest.

"Don't fucking touch me again!"

Jet didn't budge, he was dumbfounded. He was hurt. If he was confused before, this didn't even compare.

There was a familiar coiling in his gut as he stood there watching Linder leave quickly, his nails digging  brutally into his palms.