Tattooed Illusions (BxB)

F O U R T E E N

Jeong slammed his fist into the wall, inches away from Ryleigh's head. The dark haired boy shielded his face, his jaded orbs glazed over with fear. He found himself bored of Zion, so he sought out his brother, Ryleigh.

Ryleigh quivered beneath Jeong's threatening figure. Because the taller boy towered over him with ease.

Devoid of crimson were Jeong's fists, his knuckles seeming empty without the coating of blood. Strands of black hair fell into his nearly, charcoal orbs that appeared almost lifeless without the shattered beams of sunlight to dance across the cracks.

Burning in his mind were images of Journey and in a desperate attempt to distract himself from the small ginger, Jeong stepped out of his room, pitch black irises scanning the hallway for a target. When he peered at Ryleigh, his lips formed a smirk.

"W-What have I ever done to you?" Jaded eyes pierced through Jeong, thin eyebrows drawn together in question. "I don't even know you."

Jeong shrugged nonchalantly. "You caught my attention. Personally, I don't have anything against you. You were simply in the hallway during my time of boredom."

You weren't bored, his mind taunted him, a clear mocking tone seeped into the words. You had Journey to gawk at.

Inwardly, he groaned. He cursed himself for imagining Journey to begin with. Now, he can't rid him from his mind.

God, he needed alcohol. Bored of torturing Ryleigh, Jeong stalked away, hands buried in the pockets of his jacket. Down the hallways, stained with the stench of smoke and the evidence of a recent fight, he strolled. Arriving at his room, he carelessly twisted the doorknob and grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniels from the small fridge beside his bed.

The alcohol burned his throat. For a moment, the liquid washed down the thoughts clouding his head, detaching him from reality. Although he wasn't a hardcore drinker, he liked the taste of alcohol, especially when the burden of stress was weighing him down.

The thought of a hookup crossed his mind, but truthfully, Jeong had never been the type to sleep around. Quickly fucking someone and never speaking to them again just wasn't appealing to him.

Jeong preferred to spoil the hell out of someone all the time, rather than one night. Because he was undoubtedly possessive and didn't like to share, he'd want someone that only he could touch, instead of someone who had grazed the lips of another.

Call him fucking selfish, but that's just his personality.

Jeong shrugged his leather jacket off his shoulders, hung it loosely on a chair, and sprawled out on the top bunk. With the whiskey held in his grasp, he scrolled absentmindedly through Twitter, skimming over all the bullshit labelled humorous.

Journey slips into the bedroom, moments later, and Jeong lifts his head. His eyes flicker down to the worn-out, leather book held in his hands, a thin piece of paper tucked between the cream colored pages.

"Where did you get that?" Jeong snaps at him, face pale, and his tone laced with anger.

Journey ducks his head, his red hair falling into his eyes, as ashame claws at him."Well, I-"

"Don't touch my fucking stuff," he warns lowly, snatching the book.

Vision blurred with tears, Journey simply nods, brushing past him on his way to the bathroom.

Guilt gnawing at him, Jeong slides down the beige wall, letting the rest of his liquor trickle down his throat.

Against the glass door of the shower, Journey allows the silent sobs to pass between his lips. He cursed himself for crossing the line when it came to Jeong's privacy. Even though he didn't physically hurt him, the fury dancing in his orbs and the tone of his voice pierced him.

Ashtyn sunk further into the bubbles, eyebrows creased together. From the hectic day he experienced, a long bath was calling his name. When he woke up later than usual, he realized he ran out of cigarettes and in addition, the stash of alcohol Trace kept left him feeling unsatisfied. Throughout his classes, he wasn't able to focus, for the string of dirty messages Trace sent gave him a hard-on. So now he was stressed out and horny.

Ashtyn almost scoffs when he hears a familiar voice that he knows belongs to a certain pair of vibrant, arctic blue eyes float through the stale air. The sound of footsteps pad across the carpet, littered with unlit cigarettes and empty bottles of alcohol.

Trace stands in the doorway of the bathroom, a can of cold beer in his grasp, and a wicked grin coloring his face. Ashtyn watched, feigning a look of boredom, while Trace's lust filled gaze coasted down his body. "You know," Trace rasped out huskily."I could join you."

Swiping his tongue across his lower lip, in an attempt to appear seductive, Ashtyn nodded, his nude colored lips coaxing a soft, sultry smile. Slowly, Trace traced Ashtyn's mouth with the tip of his finger, teeth grazing his neck, nipping at him.

Soft moans bounce off the walls, causing Trace's mouth to turn upwards, into a smirk.

The reactions he constantly pulls from the beautiful, black haired boy across from him thrill him, pushing him to claim every inch of his body with a swipe of his tongue.

The faint smell of beer stains his breath, luring Ashtyn in like a moth drawn to a burning flame, while the hot, feathery kisses are planted onto his almost, snow colored skin.