Caston was having a lot of trouble focusing in school--not that he ever tried, but if he wanted to, theres no way he could.
The first few months were full of him trying to get Malachi's attention and in order to do that, he had spent a shit ton of time with Jace. He hasn't seen Jace much the past few weeks because he had Malachi's attention now. And fuck did he have it.
Caston liked to think that he knew Malachi pretty well. He was an open book in Caston's eyes; he was a masculine jock, who was very gay, but convinced that he wasn't. Simple enough.
Either Caston didn't pay enough attention to him before or Malachi changed. He used to be stiff, reserved, and avoidant. And when he would give in, he'd immediately leave and not talk to Caston for weeks.
New Malachi--as Caston liked to call him because it was not the Malachi he first met that he couldn't coerce into bed--was touchy and needy and so fucking horny. Like all the time.
It seemed like every second of the day, Malachi was turned in his seat with his eyes fixed on Caston. He loved turning heads and making people stare, but he felt oddly stiff under Malachi's constant, unwavering gaze.
"Cassie..." Malachi's voice was almost a whisper, his breath fanning Caston's ear.
"Hm?" Caston kept his eyes on his notebook, where his pen was sketching a shark for some reason.
He felt Malachi's hand on his thigh, his thumb drawing slow circles in the rip in his jeans. He leaned closer. "You know I hate math."
"So does every other teenager. You're not special." Caston said, as he drew the teeth in the shark's mouth.
"Please Cassie."
"I don't know what you're asking of me." Caston sighed.
Malachi's hand quickly unbuttoned Caston's jeans and slipped into his pants.
Caston gripped the pen tighter, making it glide across the page. He turned and glared at Malachi. "You made me mess up."
"Oops." Malachi smirked.
Caston clenched his jaw and leaned over, making his lips ever so gently brush against Malachi's ear. "You know..." He used his drawing hand to softly trace Malachi's jaw. "You really fuel my desire to kill."
"Then why haven't you killed me yet?" Malachi asked, slightly tilting his head.
Caston felt somewhat frozen while looking into Malachi's eyes. There was something different behind them. A glint he never noticed before. He'd lose his mind if he kept trying to decipher what it meant.
He gripped Malachi's wrist tightly and finally removed his hand from his pants. As he pushed Malachi's hand away, it smacked against the desk, making him let out a quiet "ow."
Malachi then glared at Caston and stomped his heel over Caston's boot-covered foot.
"Ow!" Caston's exclaim was a bit louder than Malachi's, his catching the attention of the teacher, who look less than pleased.
"Caston, that is your second disruption today alone. One more sound from you and you'll be sent to the principal's office, where he will punish you more harshly than I would." She said as she crossed her arms tightly.
There were a lot of things that Caston would rather do over sitting in class. Getting punished was one of them. So he held eye contact with her and smiled with a tilt of his head. "Promise?"
She visibly clenched her jaw and pointed towards the door.
Caston held his smile as he walked by her. He did a 180 in front of the door and gave Malachi a wave, wiggling his fingers at the boy who was now slouched in his chair.
For nearly his entire life, Caston has felt above authority. There's quite literally nothing that makes any one person more powerful than another, aside from the people who choose to believe that the power is there.
In other words, Caston has seen the principal's office more times than he can count. He knows he could've been suspended by now, but right after getting his second strike, he would perform well and fly under the radar, then act out and do the whole spiel over again.
He sauntered into the stuffy office and then threw himself into one of the chairs across from the principal, who looked less than delighted to see him.
"Mr. Hill. Back already? What's it been this time, two days?" He sighed, leaned back in his chair, and looked up to Caston.
"I'm flattered, Walter, but it's been three days."
"We've been over this. Call me Mr. Lawrence."
Caston rolled his eyes. "You and your damn formalities."
"Do you want to be suspended, is that it?" Mr. Lawrence raised his eyebrows at Caston.
"How is suspension even a punishment? Taking me out of school for not wanting to be in school. Sounds like a reward to me."
"Okay. How about I give you a more adequate punishment, then." Mr. Lawrence sat up, folding his hands atop his desk.
Caston smirked. "Are you gonna tell me what a bad boy I've been?"
Mr. Lawrence sighed and stood up. "I'm going to go get some paperwork. Don't move." His eyes flicked behind Caston as the door clicked open and then closed. "Mr. Jameson. I'll be right with you. Just have a seat right there."
Caston turned around in his seat once Mr. Lawrence disappeared behind one of the doors, that seemed to lead to a back hallway. "Well, well, well, what are you doing here?"
"I'm here to make sure you don't kill him." Malachi crossed his arms.
"Oh please this school would be better off." Caston rolled his eyes and got up, moving to sit in the other chair next to the door. He fell back into the seat and threw his right leg over Malachi's left.
Malachi placed his hand on Caston's knee and started slowly pushing his fingers up his thigh, stopping occasionally to slip them beneath the distressed fabric.
"You sure I can't kill him?" Caston asked, loosely hanging his head to the side.
"Yes, Cassie." Malachi said, continuing to slide his hand up Caston's thigh. "No more murders."
"No more!?" Caston lifted his head.
Malachi gripped Caston's dick through his jeans. "No. More."
"Then what am I supposed to do with my homicidal tendencies?"
"Direct them towards me."
"What?" Caston chuckled. "You want me to kill you?"
"No, don't be stupid. I just mean like...whenever you feel like hurting someone...hurt me. Don't bring other people into this. Hurt me." With every word, Malachi's voice seemed to get softer.
"You're playing a dangerous game, you know that?" Caston asked, his voice low and his eyes getting heavy in the way he likes.
"Cas, we've been over this. For some fucking reason, I feel safe with you. I know you won't hurt me more than I'll let you." Malachi leaned closer to Caston.
"Whatever you say." Caston grabbed the back of Malachi's hair and pulled him into a messy kiss.
Malachi unbuttoned Caston's jeans and slipped his hand past the fabric. Caston gripped Malachi's hair tighter and exhaled shakily into his mouth. He pushed his hips up against Malachi's hand and reconnected their lips.
The door next to the principal's desk opened and Malachi quickly removed his hand, pushed Caston's leg off, and leaned back in his chair.
Mr. Lawrence looked up from the paper in his hands. "Mr. Hill, what are you doing over there?"
Caston groaned and stood up, adjusting himself and buttoning his jeans. "Nothing, thanks to you."
"Have a seat please."
Caston huffed and resumed his place across from Mr. Lawrence, crossing his arms and slouching in the chair.
"Before I dish out the punishment you want so very badly, Mr. Jameson, why are you here?"
"Mrs. Watson sent me."
"Does she need something?"
"No...?"
"Then why did she send you?"
"Because I'm in trouble."
"Oh. I- what did you do? Score too high? Give her a green apple instead of a red one?"
"No. I called her an uneducated, lying, cheating, cock-sucking bitch." Malachi said casually.
Caston laughed at Mr. Lawrence's dumbfounded expression.
"Alright. That's a bit out of character for you, I'll admit. But I guess it works out. Come have a seat over here please." Mr. Lawrence said, straightening the stack of papers in his hands.
Malachi moved to the chair beside Caston, prompting Mr. Lawrence to resume his formal speech on behavior. Caston tuned most of it out, only zoning back in when Mr. Lawrence slid a piece of paper to him across the desk.
"You two will spend the next two weeks doing what we like to call beautifying the school. Removing gum from the desks, washing graffiti off of the bathroom stalls, and peeling stickers off of the surfaces we do not allow students to stick them to."
"Beautifying? This has to be a joke." Caston scoffed, picking up the paper and flicking his eyes over the words briefly.
Mr. Lawrence sighed. "It's not a joke, Mr. Hill. Our students, you included, treat this school with such disrespect. Thinking it's your place to trash and deface. You walk these halls with such entitlement, thinking you can get away with anything because you're a senior. Part of my job is to discipline you and teach you that that way of thinking is indeed wrong. These..." He slid a paper to Malachi, "Need to be signed by a parent or legal guardian brought back tomorrow morning. You will start your work after school. Your first session will be supervised by the vice principal and if either of you fail to complete the task or do it adequately, you will not graduate next month. Understood?"
Malachi nodded his head and gently grabbed the paper off of the desk.
"Funny that you think I give a shit about graduating." Caston chuckled, eyeing the paper again.
"My apologies, Mr. Hill. Would you like a more severe consequence? I could perform locker inspections at your request. I could make a house call and talk to your father about all the things that have gone on this year with you, most of which I'm sure went on behind his back."
"Bold of you to assume that you know anything about my relationship with my father." Casron felt like he was in a therapy session and he was really starting to hate it. His fingers were tingling and as he squeezed the paper in his hand, he felt the gentle sting of a paper cut.
"I know parents, Mr. Hill, and with everything you've done this year, your father would've paid me a visit if he knew about any of it." Mr. Lawrence's calm done was angering Caston for some reason.
His neck felt hot and he could almost feel the pocket knife falling out of his pocket and into his tightly clenched fist.
He stood up halfway, leaning forward with his hands on the desk. "Clearly you don't know my father. He doesn't give a fuck what I do."
Mr. Lawrence mirrored Caston's stance and gave him a judgemental look. "Clearly not."
Before Caston's hand could even reach for his pocket, he felt Malachi grip his wrist. "Is that all, Mr. Lawrence? We're late for lunch."
"Yes, Mr. Jameson. Thank you."
Malachi pulled Caston out of the office, making his boots smack the ground harder than usual. Caston ripped his wrist out of Malachi's hand. "The fuck was that for?"
"Oh I'm sorry. Were you not about to slit his throat with your pocket knife?" Malachi said, his voice heavy with sarcasm.
"Obviously. Why the fuck did you stop me?"
"Cas, I really need you to have some common fucking sense for once. Why didn't I let you kill our principle? In a packed school? With security cameras and proof that we would've been there when it happened? Just think about that." Malachi let out a breath.
"Because we could've been caught, I'm not an idiot. But clearly you are because my target just switched from him..to you." Caston stepped closer to Malachi and pushed him against the lockers, making the metal echo in the empty hall.
"You say that like that hasn't been my goal all along." Malachi said, gently leaning his head back against the lockers.
Caston rolled his eyes. "You really make this no fun when you show no fear."
"Sorry." Malachi cleared his throat. "Oh no. Don't hurt me please. Ahh."
"Fuck off."
"Make me."
"Who are you?" Caston kept Malachi pinned against the lockers, feeling almost as confused by this version of Malachi as he is by himself.
"I don't know anymore, Caston." Malachi sighed heavily. "And I'm sick of trying to figure it out."
"Okay, drama queen." Caston lifted his hands and then pulled his knife out of his pocket.
"What the fuck are you doing? You can't do that here." Malachi said, his eyes widening.
"Ahh that's what I like to hear." Caston smirked, flicking his pocket knife open.
"Cas, I'm serious."
"You change your mind? You too scared to follow through?" Caston inched closer, letting the blade gently touch Malachi's chest.
"No, I just don't think you pulling a knife on me in the hallway is a very good idea."
Caston clicked his tongue. "See...that just makes me wanna do it even more."
"Seriously, are you trying to get caught?"
"Are you trying to get murdered? Stop cutting me off, dick." Caston huffed.
"Unlike you, I want to graduate. Now put the damn knife away." Malachi pushed Caston's hand down slowly.
Caston rolled his eyes and sighed, folding the knife in half and shoving it back into his pocket.
"There. Happy?" He tilted his head and smiled sarcastically.
Malachi rolled his eyes, grabbed Caston's wrist, and pulled him towards the door.
"What are you doing?" Caston tried to wiggle his arm out of Malachi's grasp and failed.
"We're leaving. What's it look like?"
"You're skipping school? I thought you wanted to graduate." Caston raised his eyebrows, only realizing after the fact that it was pointless because Malachi wasn't looking at him.
"I don't have that many absences on my record. I can skip one day and still graduate."
"Cool. Can you please stop dragging me now that I know what we're doing?" Caston started yanking his arm back again, not liking the feeling of stumbling after Malachi.
"We're here anyway." Malachi said as he released Caston's arm.
"No way. I am not leaving my motorcycle here." Caston said, backing away from Malachi's truck.
"Grow up, Caston."
"I'm fucking grown."
"Then part with your precious motorcycle for one night. It won't go anywhere."
"You don't know that."
"Caston, for fuck's sake, I'm going to change my mind if you don't get in the damn car." Malachi huffed, throwing the passenger door open.
Caston flicked his eyes between the door and Malachi, crossing his arms over his chest. "Mal, there are teenagers here."
"You're literally a teenager."
"Not at heart-"
"I will personally pay for whatever damage gets done to it if you get in the car right now."
"So you admit that-"
"Caston! Please. Shut the fuck up." Malachi huffed, then harshly gestured towards the open door.
"Fine. Whatever. But you won't have to pay for shit because if it's damaged, I'll kill you."
"Looking forward to it." Malachi said as he rounded the truck.
The drive to Malachi's house felt slow to Caston, seeing as he usually goes a minimum of 80mph where Malachi follows the residential area speed limits.
Needless to say, Caston was quick to get out of the truck and up to Malachi's bedroom.
"Cas..." Malachi spoke in a way that made Caston feel like he won't enjoy the follow up words very much.
"What?" Caston asked as he rid himself of his jacket and tossed it onto the floor.
"Why didn't you kill Hannah?"
"I tried, but the bitch just didn't die." Caston shrugged.
"I've helped you clean up two--sorry three successful murder scenes. You know what you're doing. Why didn't you succeed with her?" Malachi's voice was annoyingly soft.
"Probably because I didn't go about it the same way. I was trying to make it look like suicide, that way I didn't have to clean it up. Guess I didn't cut deep enough." Caston shrugged.
Malachi nodded, but he still had an odd look on his face. Like he didn't believe what Caston said.
"You don't think I spared her, do you?" Caston laughed and stepped towards Malachi. "It pains me that you would think so little of me. It was about to be the most enjoyable kill of my life, but sadly, I got interrupted. I didn't feign incompetence, the fucking fates just stepped in. She's probably predestined to have some cliché life with Jace or some shit, but believe me, if her mom didn't show up, I would've kept going and made sure that she died. Ended up killing her mom in the end, so that worked out."
"Okay, I get it. And...why did you come to me afterwards?" Malachi smirked.
"Because you're the only one who knows that I kill people. Duh." Caston deadpanned.
"Mhm. Right." Malachi held his smirk and inched closer, grabbing Caston's waist.
"I am so confused."
"Aren't you always?" Malachi squeezed Caston's sides as he spoke.
"No, actually." Caston looked up at Malachi, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. "I've always had a hard time being a person and showing emotions and shit, but I've only ever really been confused because...of you."
"Aww, Cassie, I'm flattered-"
"Don't be. It's not a compliment." Caston walked towards Malachi, forcing him to walk backwards and then fall back onto the bed. "You are the worst thing to ever happen to me."
"Touché, asshole." Malachi said as he sat up.
"That's the difference between you and me." Caston took his pocket knife out, then straddled Malachi's lap. "I take that as a compliment."
"Of course you do- yo what the fuck!?" Malachi leaned back slightly as Caston gripped the front of his shirt and then slashed it with the knife. "I could've just taken it off."
"Nah." Caston ripped the fabric off of him and threw it aside. "What's the fun in that?"
He pushed Malachi back onto the bed and stated down at him for a minute. He leaned down slightly, tracing his tan skin with the blade.
Malachi's chest was rising and falling evenly, but his heartbeat felt fast beneath Caston's fingertips. A wince left Malachi's mouth as Caston let the blade puncture his skin. He slid it in a line parallel to his collarbone. As the blade made a red line on his skin, Malachi gripped Caston's hip tightly.
Caston moved the knife over to make an identical line on the other side. Malachi gripped him tighter, his wince now accompanied by a soft "Fuck."
Caston leaned down and ran his tongue along the first line, making Malachi wince louder. As he sucked on the skin gently, a beautifully pained sound passed Malachi's lips. Caston smirked against his skin and moved to repeat the process on the other side.
Both of Malachi's hands were holding his hips tightly, the pain making him squeeze tighter and push Caston down against him.
Caston leaned up and hovered his face over Malachi's, tasting blood behind his smile. "You don't know how long I've wanted to see you bleed."
"Aw, that's so romantic. I'm blushing." Malachi said monotonously.
"It's your fault. You provoke me. Like you just did."
Caston made two more lines beneath the first ones, pushing the blade a little harder.
"Ow! Fuck, Caston." Malachi panted, his hands now beneath Caston's shirt and harshly digging into his skin.
Caston brought his mouth down to Malachi's skin again, licking and sucking more intently than before. Malachi's chest was rising faster now, his breaths deliciously audible.
Malachi suddenly grabbed the back of Caston's hair and brought him into a messy, bloody kiss. He breathed loudly against Caston's face and pushed Caston's hips down with his left hand. He suddenly sat up and flipped them over, hovering his lips above Caston's.
Caston looked up at him, a rush of excitement coursing through his body as Malachi grabbed the knife from his hand.
Malachi leaned down, pushing his lips against Caston's. "What would you do if I tried to kill you?"
"Honey, you wouldn't even get to make the first move." Caston smirked, pulling harshly on the back of Malachi's hair and making him wince.
"You don't think I could outsmart you?"
Caston chuckled. "When it comes to killing someone? Absolutely not."
Malachi moved down, his face no longer above Caston's. He grabbed the waistband of Caston's pants and pulled them down, throwing them aside carelessly.
Malachi slid the knife across Caston's thigh, drawing a red picture over his tattoo. Caston could see the red lines becoming part of the scars that the tattoo failed to cover up.
Malachi slowly kissed his way up Caston's inner thigh, making the latter let out shaky breaths. He flipped his head down again and licked a drip of blood that was slowly running down his thigh. He lifted his head and cringed as he swallowed, then he started to cough.
"Cas, that's disgusting. It's warm." Malachi still cringed and shook his head.
"Of course it's warm, it was in my fucking body. I had blood in my mouth when you kissed me. What's the difference?"
"Your mouth is the difference."
"Fine." Caston leaned up and used two fingers to wipe up some of the blood from his thigh. He licked them clean and then pulled Malachi down into a rough kiss.
Malachi held Caston's bicep tightly, making the blade of the knife dig into his skin. Caston groaned and continuously pushed his hips up against Malachi's.
He let go of the boy on top of him to push his underwear down. As he tossed them aside, Malachi stripped out of his pants and resumed his spot above Caston. He gripped Caston's hips and slammed into him without warning or prep.
"Oh fuck!" Caston dug his nails into Malachi's arm and pushed his head back into the mattress.
He couldn't catch his breath before Malachi had a bruising hold on his hips and started a rough, rhythmic pace with his own.
He could still taste the blood in his mouth when Malachi leaned down and attempted to kiss him. His hands were holding Malachi's hair tightly and as the pace switched again, he scratched his nails down Malachi's back.
The sun was still shining into Malachi's room, but all Caston could see was stars on the back of his eyelids. He could hear Malachi above him and would occasionally taste him.
When Malachi laid next to him and began to take calming breaths, Caston felt the cool air around them sting the marks on his thigh.
"So..." Malachi took a few breaths between his words. "That satisfy your homicidal needs?"
"No." Caston got up and started putting his clothes back on.
"What?" Malachi sat up. "You fucking cut me and drank my blood like fucking Dracula. You mean to tell me that did nothing for you?"
"Oh it did something for me. I just still would like to kill someone. And that someone might be You if I get back to school and my motorcycle isn't exactly how and where I left it." Caston gave him a look as he tugged his shirt on.
Malachi sighed and threw himself back onto the bed. "You and that damn motorcycle I swear."
"Murdered, Malachi. You will get murdered."
Caston was more than relieved to see that his motorcycle was indeed exactly how and where he left it. Every ounce of his being wanted to drive into the city and find someone to help relieve the tingling sensation in his arms that has yet to fully go away. But after a fifteen minute drive and a fuel up at the gas station, he found himself driving back home.
As he locked up his motorcycle, he found himself dwelling on the fact that he just decided to go home instead of doing something that he knows he enjoys. Weeks ago, he wouldn't have even thought twice about it. He wouldn't rope Malachi in until the last second when he needed help with the cleaning process. But now, here Malachi is, affecting his hobbies. Fuck him.
YOU ARE READING
Hedon
Random[Proper description in progress...] I'm warning you, this story is messy and all over the place because I wrote it for me and my mind. It's also a little dark maybe, so..you are forewarned I guess.
