The Lord of the Library

Chapter Forty-Two

Fresh left the dorm. He didn't give PJ a deep kiss and slight suckle on his tongue like everyday. He was still asleep, but he had really rough sex the past few days. He liked fucking PJ, and he couldn't help punishing him. The smaller had been being 'naughty' for wearing sexy clothes each and every time before he got fucked rough.

"You have to tell him," Palette suddenly said.

"Tell who what?" Fresh replied, walking alongside him.

"You have to tell PJ you love him."

"I don't..."

"You do." Palette frowned, glaring at Fresh. "Besides, you've been making him feel terrible."

"I am not! I have been making my little Slut feel absolutely amazing!" Fresh huffed, pretty annoyed.

"Fresh, you're not. You're only making him feel angry and sad and he says he likes it but he doesn't."

"Shut up, Palette. You know nothing."

"Yes I do. You're hurting my brother."

"No!"

"You idiot!" Palette slapped him. And he didn't just slap him, he backhanded him with all the strength he could. The 'YOLO' sunglasses slid over the floor before gently bumping into the wall. Slowly, Fresh moved his hands up to his face, gently feeling his red slap mark.

"Did you just fucking slap me?" He asked calmly. But the look in Fresh's eyes said otherwise. It read pissed off.

"You have been just rolling your eyes and being so fucking oblivious on how much you've been hurting my brother and you are mad at me for trying to slap some fucking sense into you?!" The blonde yelled.

Fresh grabbed him by the collar, slamming him into the wall. "Shut up."

"I will never! I won't let you hurt my brother anymore!"

"SHUT UP!" Fresh screamed.

Fresh stared into Palette's eyes, his eyes still filled with tears. He dropped him and grabbed his glasses. He put them on, not wanting to show himself crying.

Palette stood back up. He just wanted to protect his brother, even if it would hurt his friend and teammate. His brothers were more important to Palette then Fresh or any of his other teammates. He cared about them, they were brothers. Even if Palette wasn't exactly real.

After a few minutes, Fresh started walking off.

"Hey!" Palette yelled, running after him.

"Leave me alone, Palette." Fresh growled, storming away.

"No! You're just trying to ignore this! You can't just say it's all okay! You can't just keep—"

"I KNOW!" Fresh yelled, snapping his head at Palette. Tears were running down his face. "I know." He lowered his voice. He started to cry, his voice shaking with tears. "I know..."

Palette was shocked. He has never seen Fresh cry, ever. Did that mean he did care about his brother?

"Fresh..?"

"I know... I just can't make up my mind..." Fresh wiped his tears.

"I didn't mean to—"

"I do love him... he's everything to me." Fresh adjusted his glasses.

"You should tell him that."

"I shouldn't. I wish I could, but I'm just... scared." Fresh shrugged. He was getting everything off his chest. "I'm scared of losing him. I want him to stay with me. I love him so much. He's beautiful, in so many ways. He's pretty and so sweet to me, even though I'm nothing but an ass to him... he is so amazing and he's fucking awesome! I mean, he can kick ass yet he hasn't kicked mine! I know he could, he does too! And yet... he doesn't..." Fresh sighed, rubbing his eyes. He was getting tired of his own stupidity.