I don't want to want you

Alois P.O.V

"You're upset."

"Just shut up and give it to me."

Claude slipped a small white pill into Alois' mouth and let his finger slide out just a bit too slow for it to not have an underlying meaning. Alois looked up to gaze into those golden embers and let out a rueful sigh.

"Claude... touch me."

Claude did not hesitate. He grabbed Alois by his slender waist and hoisted him up to straddle him. The older male's hands wandered over his pale skin and one found its way under his loose shirt. The other hand found his backside and Claude's fingers began to crawl under the fabric of the garments to grab at the tender flesh there. Alois leaned in until their foreheads were pressed together and moaned desperately as their breaths mingled.

"Claude, please..." Make me feel loved. "Please..." His last plea came out as a needy whisper.

Claude caught his lips and his kisses quickly became feverish. Before long, Alois was sprawled out on the bed, with his legs spread wantonly while Claude was pounding into him without mercy.

Please... make me feel something. Anything. Just... make me forget...

Alois turned his head to the side, staring at nothing, and his eyes devoid of emotion. He slowly let them flutter shut and let himself get lost in the drug induced haze and the physical pleasure of friction. His chest felt like it was carved out-hollow and dark-but at the same time there was pain; an immense ache that loomed in his ribcage, threatening to stop his lungs from breathing.

Some part of him wanted to struggle, but the pain had been there for so long that he didn't know if he dared to live without it. So he suppressed it, he suppressed it all-to the point where he felt empty. Besotted, he let the hollowness engulf him, feeling the ache subside only to come crawling back minutes later.

Alois curled up into a ball after Claude finally pulled out of him. He faced the wall to try and hide his face from the older boy; he didn't want him to see the tears burning in his eyes.

"I knew you would find your way back to my bed," Claude said triumphantly.

"We're not back together again," Alois murmured with a slight tremble in his voice but the anguish in his tone went unnoticed by Claude, who was smiling smugly to himself.

"I'll get you back. You always come back," Claude asserted with finality before rolling onto his side. He was snoring within minutes.

The strain of holding in his tears almost had Alois trembling and the lump in his throat burned. With the sounds of Claude's sleeping form, he finally let out a small sigh of relief and a steady stream of silent tears began pouring down his cheeks in the dark.

No amount of sweet words, physical pleasure or chemically manufactured, mind-numbing substances could make it all go away. But it did make it easier to cope with, if only for a short while. It made his misery creep deeper for the blink of an eye, and it was worth it, yet at the same time it wasn't.

The pain always came back to the surface stronger than ever when it was all over. When the drugs left his system, when the hands on him fell away, when the meaningless efforts to make him feel something of significance ceased to have any effect, the ache came crawling forward and licked and lacerated him inside. He imagined that it always would, that the monster inside of him would keep on tormenting him until the day where he eventually would become truly and irrevocably broken.

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Alois woke up in Claude's bed way past noon; he had missed another day of school. Boo fucking hoo.