Stop Pretending | Saltburn

Chapter 2

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Everything was still once again. All that was heard were crickets and a door shutting in the distance. Ronan's mother had returned home, and he would only know this from sitting on the window bench he built so that he could sit by the window and smoke what he was doing. However, he wasn't alone. Oliver was cleaned up and clothed in his bed, sleeping peacefully after what he had done with him.

Ronan didn't know why he even went through with having sex with Oliver. Maybe it was the alcohol. Perhaps it was the coke he had at that underground party they went to. Maybe it was from bring anger about how his new possible friend almost got sexually assaulted, and in his sick mind, he felt he had to be the one to deflower the male before anyone else did, to stake his claim even if it wasn't needed, he let those intrusive ass thoughts win, and it was evidently why he never had a long-lasting relationship either. He was a jealous freak. Maybe Oliver noticed that about him immediately, so he went through with it. Maybe Oliver was a freak himself. He knew he couldn't keep racking his brain about it repeatedly; he did what he did, and it was over.

He flicked his finished cigarette out the window and walked to the bed, staring down at Oliver, wishing he was someone else, but he could admit the smaller male was beautiful in his snake-like way. He sighed as he sat on the bed, combing his hair with his fingers. "Only if you were, Start." He mumbled, not thinking he was loud, but Oliver heard him. He wasn't offended, though he was too tired to care, but he noted that name. He noted everything Ronan Abbott did, but Ronan had been doing the same. He always paid attention to people like Oliver because if you looked away from them for too long, you would be tricked into eating the very forbidden fruit that caused all sin to exist. At least, that's how it went.

Ronan looked back at Oliver, who had turned over in his sleep and lay beside him. He still felt guilty. He felt like he forced Oliver into having sex despite how many times he consented, but he felt guilty. He always felt guilty after any sexual encounter- worse, he felt dirty, and these thoughts alone are what kept him up at night. He just began to spiral into hating himself until he finally fell asleep in his demise.

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The morning after was filled with early morning shouting and a startled Oliver, who wasn't used to it, but it explained why the mornings in the neighborhood were so damn noisy despite it not bothering him. What bothered him was how Ronan didn't wake up. It bothered him that the bruises on the boy's body weren't from last night's events. These were bigger. These were worse. Though the sound of broken glass startled them, it made Ronan jump to his feet, and he had some memory of Oliver in his bed. He was concerned.

"Shit... Are you ok?" Ronan jumped out of the bed to put on a pair of boxers and walked towards the door.

"I'm fine, but-" In a way, Ronan was glad he clothed Oliver the night before, but it was still obvious what Oliver was doing in his room it wasn't like a normal sleepover because of the fact Ronan's back was riddled with scratch marks and had a prominent bite mark on his shoulder from Oliver while the more petite boy still looked dazed from last night- he looked fucked outright. Ronan was fucked if his father saw the boy's state.

"Go to the bathroom and clean yourself. The worse thing that can happen right now is if my dad barges in here, he will see us and know the asshole would go ballistic..." Oliver frowned slightly, grabbed his glasses from the bedside table, and hurried off to the bathroom as he was told, but as soon as he did, he heard the door slam open.

"There you fucking are! Where the fuck did you go last night, huh?!" Oliver could see Mr. Abbott and Ronan from the bathroom mirror but wasn't sure if the older man could see him in a way he seemed afraid.