fight this fatal attraction (cricky)

6

slight tw for self-harm near the very end. 

also a small amount of smut.

/

Chris spends the rest of the night unable to sleep, tossing and turning, replaying the events in his head. His mind is a fucked up blender of emotions right now; confusion, regret, arousal, frustration, all mixed into a concoction that Chris struggles to make any sense of. 

Confusion is definitely at the forefront however, and the thing that confuses him the most is that he didn't really want to push Ricky away, and in fact enjoyed the feeling of the other boys' lips against his - a realization that makes his head spin and his stomach twist. 

Chris has spent his entire life having his sexuality both question and assumed. His parents, particularly his father, were constantly asking whether or not he was gay during his teenage years, however the question was always said with a layer of disgust. Then there was the kids at school too, who spat the word "faggot" and "queer" at him every day because he wore makeup and simply because he was different. Chris always tried to ignore it, to keep an open mind and say that it didn't bother him if people made fun of him, but the reality is, it did. So he put on a front after that - would talk loudly and vulgarly about women to fit in, to make people laugh with him and not at him, and it started to work, and they started to believe him.

And for all these years, Chris had believed it too, because he does like girls, likes the way they're small and soft under him, likes their long hair and delicate features, so he assumed that meant he was 100% straight. 

Until Ricky.

Because Ricky's also small and petite, also has long hair and a pretty face and almost looks androgynous at times, like a cute yet butch punk girl, but he's not. Yeah, Ricky's pretty, however his voice is deep and masculine and underneath his makeup Chris can see his stubble, could feel it when Ricky kissed him, and the thing that fucks Chris up the most is that he enjoys those things about Ricky. 

Chris always tried his best to stop his thoughts from going any further when thinking about Ricky, and whenever he had thought about Ricky before tonight, he had always kept it PG, not even letting himself think about anything explicit. But he can't help it after tonight.

Closing his eyes, he lets his mind wander, not pushing the scenarios he imagines away in forced disgust this time.

He imagines what he'd do differently if he were another person, a braver person, who doesn't hate themselves and isn't swathed in denial - in his mind, he kisses back, delving deeper into Ricky's mouth, using a hand on his jaw to tilt Ricky's head back. God, he wants to do so many things to him. 

Chris feels his blood run south, his cock twitching in interest as he thinks about pulling Ricky into his lap, grinding their hard cocks together. Chris has never done that before but his dick hardens with the thought of feeling Ricky against him, knowing that it was Chris who got him aroused. 

Chris wraps a hand around himself and groans. He's denied himself from jerking off for so long now because every time he tried, his mind would drift to Ricky. Chris strokes himself and he wonders if Ricky does this too, lies awake and thinks about Chris with a hand on his cock. Maybe Ricky imagines Chris touching him, imagining Chris' big hand on his cock. Chris squeezes his own dick at the idea - him shoving his hands down Ricky's tight jeans and jerking him off as he holds him in his lap, Ricky clinging onto him tightly, moaning.

Or - fuck - what if Ricky fingers himself, or has a dildo? The idea makes Chris' cock jump in his hand and pre-cum starts to gather at the tip, and he pumps himself faster. Ricky working a dildo into himself, crying out Chris' name as he thinks about him. But Chris would be so much better than a dildo or any toy Ricky has. Chris is big, he knows he is, and he moans loudly as he thinks about Ricky's small body taking him, gagging on his cock  and trying to fit Chris inside of him. Chris curses and raises his hips as his hand gets quicker, eyes closed in bliss as he thinks about Ricky.

Chris comes quickly, which isn't a surprise due to all the pent up tension and sexual frustration he had inside of him. He lies there, panting, hand sticky with come. He rubs his clean hand over his face. Well, there's no point denying that he's attracted to Ricky now. But he still has to think about what he's going to do, and whether he's fucked everything up completely. 

Something that makes Chris feel particularly nervous is how...emotionally fragile Ricky seems to be, and when Chris thinks about it, he realizes with a sting of guilt that he probably heavily led Ricky on, only to then reject him. Ricky was already in a bad place, and Chris prays he hasn't made anything worse. Chris doesn't want to assume, but the way that Ricky always wears layers and never shows his arms makes Chris think that - actually, Chris' mind doesn't even want to go there right now, because the thought of Ricky hurting himself makes him feel sick, and knowing that he's hurt Ricky makes him feel even worse.

He really, really needs to make things up to Ricky. As soon as possible.

He checks the time - 6am. Chris shifts to get up only to remember that he hadn't cleaned himself up earlier. Okay, maybe he should shower first.