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The glasses fell off the kitchen island with a loud crash. Candy Pop’s back collided with marble.
“You piss me off,” Jason spat, his grip firm on Candy Pop’s shoulders. “Do you see what everyone has done to my flat? I did not ask you to throw a goddamn party in here.”
Candy Pop grit his teeth, spine inflamed with the punctures of a thousand needles. “You are simply greedy, Jason. You have such a large place, and you expect me not to invite the whole class?” he argued through his haze. “Do not be so stupid.”
“Stupid!” Jason repeated, baffled. “No! I am not stupid, ‘Candy Pop’. This is my place! I do not accept anyone here but myself!”
“Argue with the wall, Jason! What is done is done. I kicked them all out. So delight yourself.” Candy Pop sneered at him—which only caused Jason to shove him further.
“I never even gave you my damn address!”
“Well, I followed you home!”
By now, they were both intoxicated. One more than the other—because he couldn’t stand the loud beats of a party thrown without his permission. He searched for Candy Pop in the crowd of students, but the lights were too dim, and he was either pushed or groped by a stranger, anyway. College was a fucking joke, and both of them knew it. Even getting a flat far from the campus didn’t keep Jason safe from—hopefully—young adults flooding in with the intent to get drunk, high, and laid before having to crawl back into their messy dorms and hunch over a cheap wooden desk. Jason swore he would punch the next person who asked him if he had condoms lying around. None of this would’ve happened if Candy Pop didn’t tell the campus. That idiot blacked out before any of the lads broke in and vandalised the sitting room. Jason only found Candy Pop when he was trying to find a place to puke out his guts, and stumbled upon him slumped in his bathtub.
Candy Pop was the bane of Jason’s existence. And Jason Meyer was the bane of Candy Pop’s. Some would argue there wasn’t any good reason for them to hate each other as much as they did—but they would argue there were more than enough good reasons. Fantastic reasons, even. Candy Pop was irritating—unbelievably so. To the point where Jason thought every single one of Candy Pop’s actions were done to personally spite him and only him. Jason hated that bombastic way he spoke, like he was better than everyone just because he could perfectly recite Shakespeare. He hated the way he bounced with every step, how his ponytail would flourish behind him, and his bells would jingle like they weren’t the most annoying things on Earth. He hated his ceaseless optimism—because God, he was so fucking radiant it was blinding. Candy Pop had this aggravating ability to light up any room he entered. His smile was boundless—magenta eyes always shimmered with an earnest flame; nothing could dim his brilliance, and Jason despised it. Jason wanted to extinguish that fire himself. Just once, if not forever.
And Jason was just pretentious. His ego spilled into every single conversation—he couldn’t shut the fuck up about himself. Despite his arrogance, everyone found him charming, or at the very least respectful. He was good at talking, listening, acting the part. But Candy Pop knew firsthand that Jason was far from either of those things. Candy Pop found that amusing to play with. Obnoxious, cold-hearted, scoffing at everything that wasn’t fit to his snobbish standards. He could’ve been the average rich kid—but there was something that made him stand out. Something small, visible only to those with the patience to study him. And Candy Pop acquired that patience. His favourite course this year might have been Jason himself. He created a mental list of what ticked Jason off the most, and what only earned him a scowl. Bringing up his father took the number one spot—but that was hard to abuse. Unlike Jason, who was apparently pretty easy to. So, Candy Pop settled on making things more difficult for him day-to-day.
That’s why they could never get along. They were both too stubborn, too stuck up, and too fucking dramatic for their own good. Jason looked down at Candy Pop—and he saw that of someone who’s done nothing but make his life a living hell. He could transfer colleges, move to another country, even go on another planet—and Candy Pop would still be there.
Jason’s eye twitched.
“I should murder you,” he said, voice low and steady, dripping with bitter raspberry and notes of truffle.
“And stain thy family’s good name?” Candy Pop jeered. “You wicked man~ Hast thou not tarnished it enough?”
Jason furrowed his brows, angled sharp with a cutting edge. “I have not, and you are wrong to assume so.”
Candy Pop rolled his eyes, though a smile crept up on his deep merlot lips. Magenta contacts flickered with a glint of sheer malice. “So, what would the others say if they witnessed you pinning me down like this? They would call you a brute, would they not?”
“They’d say you deserve it.”
“For having a little fun? Nay! I shan’t be punished for this!” Candy Pop hastily shook his head. “Thou art a monster, Jason! And now, I shall cry out: help! Help me! The foul beast has seized me!”
“Stop it!” Jason exclaimed, and Candy Pop erupted into chaotic laughter. His hands twitched into a fist; every bone in his body wanted him to strike. “Don’t you dare twist this into a joke.” He leaned forward, their noses just about brushing. His breath was hot on Candy Pop’s face, carrying traces of red wine, rich in its bittersweet essence.
Candy Pop grinned, remnants of muscat and blackberry gummed between his teeth. “But you’re so funny,” he said with another slurred giggle.
Jason huffed with an emotion that wasn’t quite anger. He was beyond it now, burning up with contempt. “You aren’t seeing the mess you made. My place is a wreck, and you know whose fault it is?”
“Mm, not mine.”
“Yours! It’s your fault! For bringing goddamn strangers in without telling me! And even if you bloody asked, which you never could do, I would never let you host anything in here! So would you care to enlighten me what made you think this was the slightest bit clever?”
“Clever… Must it be clever in the first place? It’s a party, for crying out loud—!”
“It’s my flat!” Jason shouted, and he was getting sick of repeating himself now. “Are you dense?!” He grasped Candy Pop’s face, roughly smushing his cheeks. “First you bother me on campus, and now you are invading my personal life! You cannot see how that’s infuriating? Gods, I cannot focus with you around!”
Candy Pop grabbed onto the trim of marble behind him. His eyes widened. Jason had never, in their three years of knowing each other, been this physically aggressive. He often snapped, instinctively swatted his hand, flicked Candy Pop’s face, or jabbed his chest. But he never outright hit Candy Pop. No, he only expressed his desire to do so. Perhaps, Candy Pop just never got him drunk enough to act it out. Perhaps, this outcome was inevitable. Honestly, it would be a lie if Candy Pop said he wasn’t the slightest bit rattled.
Jason’s hand slithered lower, fingers wrapping around Candy Pop’s throat. “I wish you would just leave.”
“Ah—” Candy Pop’s breath hitched, head tipping back. He eyed Jason’s hand, and huffed a harsh laugh. “And so it becomes my fault you are so distracted by me… Methink’st thou must be… an idiot!”
“Shut up!” Jason squeezed harder, tendons strained and knuckles white. “You’re such an insolent brat.”
“T-Thy hand! It’s tightening… S-Suppose this makes you stronger? No. You’re still just— a bitch, Meyer!”
“I beg your goddamn pardon?”
“Mhm—you bark like a bitch, but y-you don’t know how to attack—coward!” Candy Pop egged him on, taking a hold of Jason’s wrist with both hands. “You wish to s-strangle me, you do it right.”
Golden eyes narrowed above cherry wine cheeks; Jason pressed his palm down firm against Candy Pop’s throat. “I am not a coward,” he snarled, embittered in tone, acid spilling into every word.
“You— You are—” Candy Pop gave out a smothered noise, hoarse and short winded. Muscles stretched and tensed frantically as he grew desperate for air. Eyes were now half lidded, smiling lips parted with a string of spit bridging his teeth. He swore he hated Jason, but he couldn’t help but revel in this newfound attention. “Hh— Ha— Harder—” he croaked; and he tightened his grip around Jason’s wrist as Jason’s fingers tightened around his windpipe.
After all, Candy Pop was still treating this like some game. He was drunk, but when he surrendered his life to Jason’s hands, he felt perfectly sober. Blood brewed beneath his skin like crushed plums in a barrel. Jason constrained him against the island; Candy Pop didn’t fight it, even though his eyes were rolling back and his legs were trembling. His fate was written in the stars that flashed around him. And it was strangely beautiful.
Dying to Jason Meyer was a fantasy only someone as irrational as Candy Pop could have. He’d be apart of Jason’s life forever. Haunting him, taunting him. He’d be the bitter aftertaste of wine, the sound of ringing in his ears, the red in his eyes. He was a shadow, and he was a halo of light. Always there, never real. Jason couldn’t get rid of him.
That idea didn’t yet cross Jason’s mind. He was too focused on watching Candy Pop quiver. How his lips fell open; how his mirabelle tongue twitched between vanilla teeth. How his hands shuddered and lost their place on Jason’s wrist; how they dropped weakly to the counter and clawed at the marble surface. Jason’s gaze followed Candy Pop’s body—and now, finally, there was some involuntary panic. Candy Pop kicked uselessly, shamefully, feet barely raising above ankle. Jason’s jaw clenched, golden eyes fizzing over with indignation.
He must’ve wanted to do this since he met Candy Pop.
Ever since they were placed in the same communications course, Candy Pop loomed around Jason like the sun behind a dark cloud. Jason didn’t want to sit next to him, didn’t want to speak with him, didn’t want to meet him after class, but he always ended up doing exactly that. He swore he hated Candy Pop, but he slipped up sometimes: listened too intently, gave a fraction of a smile, asked a question. All the things no one should do in an interaction with Candy Pop. Jason always cursed himself for his inability to just shut Candy Pop out. He could do it easily. File a restraining order. Hire a hit man. He inherited his father’s anger issues, so it wasn’t difficult to scare someone away. But no. Through and through, Jason allowed Candy Pop to stay.
There was no satisfaction in Jason’s expression—just desperation. A need to get away—escape from the thing holding him back. His breaths were heavy, ragged, scented with hard red liquor. But when his hand began to twist around Candy Pop’s throat, he saw that look from before. The shift in Candy Pop’s eyes. It was fear, and then it was acceptance—it was acceptance, and then it was reverence.
Jason’s grip loosened. He took a step back.
Candy Pop coughed—violently. He lurched over, hands shooting up to the mulberry bruises on his neck. He collapsed almost instantly onto unsteady knees and numb hands.
“Oh my Gods,” Jason mumbled under his breath.
He stepped back until he stumbled into the dining room table, his eyes still glued to Candy Pop hacking up phlegm on the cold kitchen tile. Candy Pop couldn’t stop trembling. He couldn’t control what he wanted to say, how he wanted to move, or where he wanted to look. His skin was flushed from his face to his chest. His lips were glossed with damson spit that trickled down his chin and dripped onto the floor. He wiped over his mouth with the back of his hand, sniffling, and coughing. It hurt to touch his neck, but he kept tracing the swell of blackberry skin. Slowly, his consciousness returned to level out the buzz in his ears and the blur in his vision. His eyes began to water—pain, horror and euphoria all bubbling up in a lethal mixture. And once he could almost perfectly replay the events in his head, Candy Pop’s coughs transformed into a hoarse burst of laughter.
“You were going to let me kill you,” Jason said in pure disbelief.
Candy Pop looked up, one hand on his neck, the other on his knee. He gave out a raspy, nightshade chuckle.
“I— would let you do anything,” Candy Pop replied, his voice cracked.
Jason anchored his hand to the table. “What is wrong with you?”
“Please, keep looking at me in scorn—” Candy Pop spoke through hiccups and sharp breaths. “You c-could kill me, I don’t care… O-Oh, Jason, I like those eyes on me, your hands.”
“You… have a problem—”
Candy Pop slammed his fist against the tile. “You tried to kill me! You have a fucking problem!” he shouted, despite it straining his throat to do so. Jason froze up in response, startled. Candy Pop relaxed instead. “You are mad—mad, Jason. But… that’s not an issue. It’s not…”
Jason swallowed thickly. Anything. Candy Pop said he would let Jason do anything. No one else could sit on their knees and say that to him so proudly. Jason swore it was the alcohol making him flustered, but he knew it wasn’t.
“I want your attention,” Candy Pop confessed. “All the time… Y-You’re such a fascinating man, Jason… I hate everything about you, but I always… want you near.” The words spilled out through wine bottle cracks. Rich like aged liquor. “Is that bad?”
“It’s awful,” Jason replied quietly. “You shouldn’t.”
“I can’t help it.”
“Get help.”
Candy Pop giggled roughly. “You first…”
God, this was infuriating. Jason wasn’t just gawking at Candy Pop now, he was admiring him. Candy Pop’s life revolved around Jason. That thought made him sick to his core—but it fermented a profound feeling. Raw, and undoubtedly effervescent. Cherry scented breaths clung to his parched throat. His body stiff, unmoving, except for his fingers dragging back and forth on the table. He kept lingering on Candy Pop’s fucked up words. Jason hated him more than anything—but the tension in his muscles was more than just resentment this time. It was the weight of Candy Pop’s obsession.
This was the esteem Jason deserved. No tricks, and no games. Just submission. The liquor on Jason’s tongue never tasted more bittersweet. Candy Pop thumbed over the bruises like he wanted to eternalise them. The pain, the swell, the bliss of it all. Jason tried all this time not to admit it—but he couldn’t hold back now: Candy Pop was beautiful like this. Enhanced now by sweat slicked skin, and a marked throat; merlot cheeks, and glistening lips. His shawl—loose, sheer, exposing his black lace top. Shorts—tight, hugging the curves of his hips just perfectly. Jason shouldn’t stare—it was perverted and disrespectful. Not modest, and certainly not appropriate given he just strangled the man.
But the Gods themselves blessed him with eyes just so he could stare at Candy Pop’s thighs. Holy fucking shit.
“Jaaason,” Candy Pop drawled and snapped his fingers. “Where did your head run off to?”
Jason cleared his throat, perking up. “Nowhere.” He let go of the table. “Candy Pop. You said you would let me do anything?”
“Why, of course~” Candy Pop fluttered his eyelashes. He leaned forward on his knees, arms pressing his chest together beneath his shawl. “Anything at all.”
“Then get up.”
“Oh…”
With a grin, Candy Pop rose up from his place. Wobbly as he was, he held onto the counter for support. His eyes flickered back to Jason, who watched with as much focus as a drunk man could have. Candy Pop took reckless steps forward—just until he tripped on his feet and fell against Jason himself. He let out a softer, breathless noise, as he felt Jason’s unexpected warmth.
Jason didn’t hold him—didn’t even try to. But this was all the evidence Jason needed to believe Candy Pop’s words. He tilted Candy Pop’s chin, their eyes meeting in a drunken haze.
“Why did you wreck my flat?” Jason asked.
“Hhehehe… I did it for thee,” Candy Pop answered. “J-Just because I… wanted you to be angry at me again. Hehe… Hhe…”
“Gods…” Jason brushed over Candy Pop’s lips with his thumb. They were as soft as they looked—wet, too. He dwelled on them for a bit too long. And then he took in a chardonnay breath. “You’re drunk.”
Candy Pop hummed, coarse in his sore throat. “You’re drunk.”
“I won’t remember anything.”
“Neither will I.”
“Candy Pop.”
“Jason—”
Jason’s lips clashed with Candy Pop’s, swallowing the syllables before Candy Pop could utter them. Candy Pop gave an open mouthed moan, tugging Jason’s shirt and drawing him in close. Jason seized Candy Pop’s waist, clutching, turning him around and pushing him against the dining table with a force that caused it to rattle. Candy Pop was the sweetest rush of sugar, with a hint of bitter malt. Jason was sharp in an acquired taste; blackcurrant and raspberries.
Candy Pop couldn’t tell if Jason was inexperienced or if he was just drunk. There was a lack of any initiative; in other words—not enough tongue. Candy Pop tilted his head, searching for the right angle to deepen their kiss. Jason understood that bristling feeling now: it was lust. Unadulterated lust. The sin he read about in books, and thought could only exist in fiction. As unfamiliar as it was, he let that lust consume him. Tension unravelled in the form of swirling tongues and grappling hands. Jason settled his hand beneath Candy Pop’s shawl, feeling out the smooth expanse of tan skin. Candy Pop melted into Jason’s touch, leaning toward the avid heat of his body. They let their resentment turn into a passion. Let it run through their veins, seep into their kisses.
The alcohol diluted their nerves. It was easier to press forward without judgement. But there wasn’t a college course on how to kiss an enemy, so there remained uncertainty in their movements. Jason caught himself scrunching his brows and tightening his eyes, growling into their fervent kiss. His forceful grip reeled in Candy Pop even closer, their bodies then upon each other.
“Oh, Jason,” Candy Pop mumbled, raspy with a tinge of champagne dripping from his tongue. “You kiss beyond the book.”
“I’ve never kissed anyone like this before,” Jason confessed.
“Then I shall be thy first. Are you some virgin?”
Jason scoffed. “Doesn’t matter.”
“It does a little.” Candy Pop smiled.
And he pulled Jason down by his fitted collar, returning to their intoxicating kiss. Candy Pop pushed his thigh between Jason’s legs, rubbing up against his erection: it was encouragement—a sign that Jason didn’t need to hold back. Jason groaned into Candy Pop’s mouth, lips falling open to invite more tongue. He shifted his hips against Candy Pop’s thigh, growing harder with each drunken grind. Candy Pop wished he could ingrain this into his memory: Jason’s breathy voice, his glossy lips, the liquor on his tongue, and the weight of his cock on Candy Pop’s leg. But he would probably forget this by early morning—and so would Jason.
Jason kissed harsher, teeth clinking and grazing along wine stained lips. This might have been the highlight of his entire college life. Kissing Candy Pop against his dining room table, surrounded by red cups, beer cans, and wine bottles. While his flat was a mess of string, confetti, leftover food, and clothes. But all of those worries evaporated in the heat of their exchange. Jason couldn’t fucking believe how sweet Candy Pop was. How sweet he smelled, how sweet he tasted, how sweet he moaned. Jason was utterly lost in the whirl of sugar and alcohol.
He reached for Candy Pop’s shorts. His fingers rimmed the buttons until Candy Pop unfastened them himself. Candy Pop undressed through some struggle, the fabric dropping to the floor with a faint thud. Jason traced the curves of Candy Pop’s hips, curling his fingers beneath the waistband of his slacks. His cock strained against his trousers, brushing up on Candy Pop’s thigh. Candy Pop was scorching—radiating as much heat as he did light. It was tangible in every kiss and every touch. And his voice was so hot when he let out a shrill whimper. It made Jason all the more impatient. He rushed—slipped the fabric down Candy Pop’s hips and let it bunch above his knees. His hand slid between Candy Pop’s thighs, coarse fingers blindly dragging through his cunt.
“Yes,” Candy Pop rasped, black nails scraping against the wooden table. “Heheh— Hheh… That’s good…”
“Already,” Jason mumbled. He sank two digits inside, the stretch of muscle causing Candy Pop to jerk forward. “Are you always this wet?”
Candy Pop hastily nodded—it was pathetic how quick he was to respond. “With you—! O-Oh, only with you! It’s insufferable!”
“Well, I am alleviating it now, aren’t I?” Jason plunged his fingers in deeper, spreading them apart, scissoring Candy Pop open with resolve.
“Mhm! Y-Yes, yes, Jason! Haah— Please, let me writhe in thy hands! I don’t want anything more!”
Jason huffed. He could never fully understand Candy Pop—drunk or sober. But he was beginning to learn, little by little, if exploring his body counted. Jason slid his fingers in and out of that wet cunt, curling up as it tightened around his rough digits. The heel of his palm pressed against Candy Pop’s clit with every thrust, and with every thrust, Candy Pop’s whole frame shuddered; his hips instinctively rocked forward to meet with Jason’s hand.
His tongue flitted over Jason’s raspberry lips, indulging in the acidic taste. His thighs trembled, parting as much as they could while his slacks bonded his legs together. Jason was merciless in his movements, and Candy Pop was already about to give out. He whined—gruff and deep in his throat—as Jason cupped the side of his hip, and beckoned him closer.
“Gods, you’re so desperate,” Jason growled through the kiss, nipping at Candy Pop’s lip. “Take off your top.”
“My shawl—?”
“All of it.”
With a quivering hand, Candy Pop untied his shawl in a single flick. Jason’s gaze crawled, tracing down the lines of Candy Pop’s abdomen. Lean muscle, flesh tight over bone. He ran his tongue over his teeth, breath leaden and possibly panting. Candy Pop unlaced his top next, slid the straps hurriedly off his shoulders, and cast his clothes aside. His chest was of a smaller size—not worth the expense of surgeries or binding tape. He was as flat as a board; but he still looked up expectedly.
Jason exhaled, and he withdrew his fingers.
In a cursory move, he pushed Candy Pop onto the table—pulling off his slacks, gripping his thighs, spreading them apart. Candy Pop’s skull slammed into hickory; his hand knocked against an opened can—every action more dizzying than the last.
“J-Jason—” Candy Pop groaned as his neck throbbed with beats of sweet agony. “Careful, careful now! There’s so mh— many spare drinks!”
“Hmf. You’re scared of a little spill?” Jason replied.
Candy Pop let out a raspy laugh. “No! But you are!”
“Right now,” Jason held him down by the shoulder, causing him to wince, “I could care less.” He reached for a bottle of leftover merlot, popping the cap off with his thumb. Ochre eyes darted back to Candy Pop’s face. “Come on, open your mouth.”
Jason tipped the bottle. Merlot spilled over Candy Pop’s mouth, dripping past his lips, dribbling down the sides of his face. He coughed as it leaked into his throat, his tongue unfurling to lap up the excess. A trail of liquor began from Candy Pop’s chest down to his navel.
“H-Hhah—! It stings, but it’s g-good, it’s good,” Candy Pop mumbled to himself. Wine glistened off his neck, highlighting every blackberry bruise. His throat bobbed painfully with an unsteady swallow. “It’s so good.”
Jason took a sizable swig, before setting the bottle back down with a slam. Leaning over Candy Pop’s body, he brought his lips down to Candy Pop’s stomach. Candy Pop shivered, his hands flailing at his sides. Jason pressed a kiss to Candy Pop’s navel, flicking his tongue over the flavours of rich oak and red plum. He drew a thick stripe up the merlot path, slowly, methodically, sucking in every last drop until he united with Candy Pop’s mottled throat. Candy Pop squirmed, laying out his thighs with a pathetic whine. Jason closed the gap between them and eased two fingers back in with a deliberate push, eliciting a sharp cry.
He was quick to regain his rhythm—eager, really.
“Gods, Candy Pop, you’re a bloody mess,” Jason remarked, almost breathless. “So goddamn miserable, letting me do as I please…”
“Oh, y-yes…” Candy Pop giggled, dazed. “I t-told you! I’ll let you do any— anything at all to me— Use me, Jason… Let me be yours to desecrate!”
“You’re disgusting, do you know that?” Jason placed a hand on Candy Pop’s neck, lifting it closer to his lips. “You’re not let off just because you’ll let me use you. I want to devastate you.”
“Vent your frustrations o-onto me— I can take it!”
“You will.” Jason sunk his teeth into tender, velvet flesh. Candy Pop hissed, sucking in a cinnamon spice breath. Jason caressed the old bruises while he broke in new ones. Candy Pop tasted good—good when relished with merlot and the salty bite of sweat. It should be wrong to kiss someone so despicable—but Jason already lost himself in the ambrosia. His fingers hustled between Candy Pop’s legs, working through the feverish heat of arousal. No remorse, and no restraint. “Listen to yourself—you’re revolting. Filthy brat, so close already, aren’t you?”
Sangria stained when barley teeth drove grooves into swollen skin. Candy Pop huffed a sweet, muscat noise. Pink eyes clamped shut, thighs twitching around Jason’s hand. “Y-Yes—Yes!” he exclaimed.
“Pathetic.” Jason pressed down on Candy Pop’s throat, warranting a guttural cough. He kissed over each dark cherry mark, while his grip began to tighten, and Candy Pop began to choke on thick malt. Sighing, Jason rubbed his thumb over Candy Pop’s swollen clit, just as he nudged a third finger against his slick entrance. Saliva frothed up in his mouth, leaking down his chin. Jason let go; Candy Pop gagged, and gasped for air. But he couldn’t steady his breathing before Jason pushed in another digit, joining the other two in a rough drag. Candy Pop mewled, his voice unmistakably wrecked.
He let Jason take over completely, his body limp on the table. Jason snaked a hand down the slight arc of Candy Pop’s chest; he thumbed over his petite breast. His lips dropped, catching the flushed peak between his teeth. He bit down gently, circled it with his tongue—enough fervour to warrant an ecstatic reaction. Candy Pop was ripe mulberry with a hint of violet—he was the scent of vanilla and natural sugars. Jason grunted, letting up just to alternate to the other side.
“Jason—” Candy Pop moaned, biting down on the back of his own hand. “Mmhh— More! Please!”
“Amazing, aren’t I?” Jason replied.
“Oh, you’re divine!”
Three fingers thrust in tandem. Slick sounds echoed in Jason’s ears—not so much Candy Pop’s, who struggled to hear beyond his heavy breaths and Jason’s darkened voice.
“Are you going to cum around my fingers, hm?” Jason rasped. “Can’t hold yourself up anymore?”
“Hah— Pl-Please, I’m so close—!”
“You’re pathetic—so goddamn pathetic...” Jason quickened his pace. His cock twitched at the look on Candy Pop’s face—so fucked out of his mind. Their lips met; Jason kissed into Candy Pop’s mouth as he rammed his fingers in and out. His free hand slid to his belt, fumbling with the buckle until it clicked.
Candy Pop’s walls fluttered around Jason’s fingers; his body shook—thighs trembling, and his hips jerking. He whined into Jason’s mouth, hand clutching onto cherry wine hair. Jason groaned, deepening the kiss as he felt the gush of arousal coating his hand. He toyed with Candy Pop’s breasts, thumbing over his taut nipples as he squeezed one and then the other. Vodka tears trailed down Candy Pop’s cheek, the rousing adrenaline too much to bear.
“That’s it,” Jason murmured against Candy Pop’s lips, twisting his fingers inside. “Show me how good I feel.”
Candy Pop whimpered, his body twitching with a rabid need for friction. “Jason— You’re good— Y-You are!”
He couldn’t speak, let alone think. He collapsed on the table, giving out a final cry. Jason worked him through his orgasm, steadily dragging his fingers through wet folds, before pressing in again, slow and deliberate, just to feel Candy Pop shudder.
Candy Pop lost his place on Jason’s hair, hands falling at his sides, body stiff except for the involuntary jolts. Jason fondled his breasts with little care—tugging and pinching; harsh and unyielding. He didn’t dare to stop, not when Candy Pop sobbed so beautifully. Fuck, it was intoxicating how beautiful he was. Unfair, too, that the very man unwinding beneath him was the very man he strenuously despised. Jason wasn’t certain how he’d go the rest of their semester without wanting to fuck him after every lecture. He took great pride in knowing he could make someone fall apart like this.
While hatred came naturally, lust didn’t. The two were never meant to go together—not this deliciously. They bubbled up behind Jason’s ribs, stirring like the flames he could never extinguish from Candy Pop’s eyes. So fucking bright.
Jason pulled out his fingers, and Candy Pop snapped his legs shut, thighs rubbing together, hips grinding against nothing. Cum leaked from his twitching cunt, glistening under the dining room light. Moans spilled out of him, gravelly and unsure. Jason broke free from the kiss, his eyes glossing over Candy Pop’s tear-slicked face.
“Christ,” Jason muttered under his breath. Maybe he was a little shocked he could make someone cum this fast. His ego skyrocketed to peaks he never even thought of.
Candy Pop panted, breath hot and citric. He sniffled, bringing up a hand to wipe away his tears. “Jason,” he rasped, his lips cracking into a lopsided smile. “Jason, your h-hands are good for more than ch-choking—” He gasped out a laugh.
Jason snarled—he forgot how much he hated that stupid grin. “Shut up.” He straightened his posture, towering over Candy Pop, eyes trailing down his flushed body.
“Hehe… Heh… No, I-I mean it— I never came like that before.” Candy Pop giggled—and coughed straight afterwards.
“Shut up,” Jason repeated, faltering this time. He went considerably red; but for the sake of his dignity, he tried not to acknowledge the way Candy Pop’s praise rippled through his bones. “I already know I’m the best. You’re acting like I’ve finished with you.”
Candy Pop propped himself up on his elbows, wincing at the ache of his neck. “I’m not acting like that at all, Meyer…” he mumbled.
“You’re trembling.”
“With delight.”
Jason scoffed and grabbed the previous bottle of merlot. Golden eyes fixed on Candy Pop’s chest as Jason took a large, careless sip, and wiped away the liquor dribbling down his chin. He tossed the bottle aside, and dove in for a kiss—Candy Pop’s lips fell apart with a gasp, red wine spilling into his open mouth. He took it gleefully, gratefully, smiling as Jason pulled off.
“You’re gonna get me blacked out,” Candy Pop slurred, giving a hoarse chuckle.
“You’d let me.” Jason kissed him on the cheek, licking up a salty line of tears. He hooked his fingers beneath the seam of his trousers, unbuttoning them with some fumble, but he undressed with relative ease.
He was immeasurably hard. Horny bastard. Candy Pop let out a laboured breath upon sight. His eyes flickered over pulsing veins to the swollen head. He swallowed back some drool. Getting fucked by Jason goddamn Meyer was about to be the biggest mistake of his life.
Candy Pop moved as Jason watched. His hand snaked between his thighs. And he whimpered as he pressed two of his fingers against his aching cunt, spreading apart his slick folds. He gazed up at Jason, mulberry eyes gleaming with profound need. Jason grit his teeth, cock twitching in his hold.
There were no bottles around to calm Jason’s nerves. He could only run his tongue over passionfruit teeth and fine cherry lips. For about fifteen seconds, there was a breathtaking silence between them. The consequences of their actions wouldn’t hit them till later, so it surely didn’t matter now.
Jason’s movements were cautious for a drunk man; he nudged the tip of his cock toward Candy Pop’s glazed entrance—a wet sound as he rubbed against his cunt. Candy Pop whined, barely keeping himself together. Jason bit back a noise, lips together, eyes swirling with pure concentration, and no real confidence. His muscles tensed up, every fibre aching for release; the knot in his stomach grew tighter, and his chest could hardly contain the fire. Jason didn’t know someone so evil could feel so good. He pressed forward with a groan, his eyes fluttering shut as the tip slipped in.
“Oh— Th-There it is!” Candy Pop said, tilting his head back.
Jason exhaled, leaning over Candy Pop’s body, pushing in further—inch by inch, till he was soaked in Candy Pop’s heat. He shuddered, buried his face in the side of Candy Pop’s neck, and gasped against his skin.
“You’re deep,” Candy Pop whimpered. “Keep going… You just move, okay?—Y-Yes, that’s good.”
Jason shifted his hips, pulling out, then thrusting back in. He was only the slightest bit apprehensive, trying out the waters before building a comfortable rhythm. Candy Pop moaned, cunt tightening around Jason’s cock. The table shook with each drawn-out thrust. Jason wrapped a hand around Candy Pop’s waist, drawing his body closer, and off the hickory surface. He was still timid, slow and attentive to Candy Pop’s reactions. Even in his drunken state, Jason knew he should savour this moment. If only they’d remember this by morning. If only this was more than just a fantasy—a dream played out. But instead, they’d go the rest of their lives with the everlasting taste of wine, and the ache of loss. Jason ignored that pang in his chest.
Candy Pop didn’t seem to worry about the future. He didn’t care—not when Jason was finally in his reach. Jason, rooted so deep and firmly inside of him that he couldn’t think of anything else. Candy Pop would kill anyone who hated Jason as much as he did. Now, more than ever, Candy Pop’s hatred was carnal, curling around his bones and seeping into the very marrow. Candy Pop hated how Jason hesitated—how his lips quivered, and his breaths stuttered. He hated the blush on Jason’s face—the smear of lipstick on his cheek, or the smudge of dark eyeliner. And he hated, most of all, how Jason made him feel good about himself. It was thrilling to be treated like filth. To be acknowledged as less. Because Jason held no power over him that he couldn’t easily take away. Candy Pop dangled the opportunities over Jason’s head. He boiled him to a point, but only Jason could seethe himself over. Jason was strong only when Candy Pop let him be. So it didn’t matter—didn’t matter if Candy Pop was above or below him. As long as Candy Pop was with him at all.
As long as Candy Pop could feel the stretch of muscle. Jason’s cock dragging into his tight cunt, curving up against his sensitive walls. His groan was a low rumble in his throat, vibrating against Candy Pop’s neck. Candy Pop moaned—louder this time, like he lost all restraint.
“Noisy,” Jason muttered.
He kissed Candy Pop again, a brush of red velvet against dark plum. Candy Pop wrapped his arms over Jason’s neck, bridging any gap between them. The kiss was soothing—alcoholic in itself. Caramelised acid, sharp and unadulterated. Candy Pop’s head knocked against the table as Jason pushed in his tongue. He mewled, kissing back with as much intensity as he could manage. The bruises ached, burning worse when he had to swallow the flavours of damson and clove. Empty cups fell and crashed on the floor. Leftover crumbs scattered off paper plates.
Jason drew himself out—he hoisted Candy Pop up and off the table. Candy Pop sighed as he felt Jason’s length slap against his stomach. Their kiss became messier, open-mouthed and breathless. Jason stumbled blindly, making his way past an arch till they staggered into the sitting room. Jason lowered Candy Pop onto a chaise, climbing over his body with flagrant impatience. Candy Pop parted his thighs, opening up for Jason in an almost theatrical display. Jason slid back inside with a rough thrust.
Candy Pop took it readily—though his entire frame was startled by the newfound confidence. This wasn’t the countenance of a man who only fucked his hand in front of a mirror. Each thrust was more painstaking than the last—Jason studied how they made Candy Pop jolt. He pursed his lips, pulling out the full extent of his length—easing his way back in. His eyes darted to one side. The end table was cluttered with opened beer cans and mini bags of crisps. There were a couple of bottles still left unfinished—Jason grabbed one by its neck, taking the cap between his teeth and prying it off. He spat it out, chugging down the remaining liquor. Candy Pop reached up for Jason’s shirt, trifling with the buttons until Jason seized his dainty wrists and riveted them to the backrest.
“Don’t try,” Jason said flatly. Candy Pop gave out a shallow huff, eyes widening as Jason angled the bottle. “Drink.”
Strawberry wine poured down in a graceful stream; thin lines trickled from Candy Pop’s lips. Candy Pop tried to swallow every ounce, but caught himself choking. The acid fizzed over his tastebud, alcohol burning his coarse throat. The chaise beneath him was damp with dribbles of liquor. He struggled in Jason’s grip, fingers clenching into a fist, crescents driving into his sweaty palms.
“Come on.” Jason squeezed Candy Pop’s wrists, deep coral ruptured beneath his calloused fingers. “All of it.” He pushed forward, just for Candy Pop to cough and gag on a mixture of saliva and wine. “There we go. Nasty brat, I’m not done wrecking that little throat of yours.”
Jason let the wine drip, until the final droplets marked Candy Pop’s face. He dropped the bottle, and wasted no time bringing his lips to Candy Pop’s blemished neck; his tongue lapped up the wine garnish, his lips brushed over the sore swell of skin. Candy Pop choked on a sob, crying out a raspy moan. A sheen of sweat, and tears, and wine coated his blushing face. Jason murmured into Candy Pop’s collar, teeth grazing along his clavicle. His hips rolled forward. Candy Pop frantically jolted as Jason thrust in his entire length.
“J— Hha— Jason—!” Candy Pop’s vision darkened at the edges, but the pink glitters in his eyes were ever so prominent. “J-Jason— Jason! You’re so mmh— deep inside—” He gasped, breath shaking, unbridled moans babbling out of him.
Jason kept himself enveloped to the hilt, grinding his hips against Candy Pop’s body. Candy Pop keened, his walls twitching and dripping with sheer arousal. Jason kissed the marred crook of his neck, then his erratic pulse, then his wet lips. He didn’t linger on them; he sealed his lips around Candy Pop’s ear, sucking in the reddenned tip. Candy Pop’s hands shook in an attempt to free himself from Jason’s hold.
“D-Dammit,” Jason rasped, feeling the way Candy Pop tensed around his cock. “Pathetic little thing, not even trying to hh— hide how desperate you are.” His grip loosened. “I want you to s-see yourself. How disgusting you look.”
“Oh! I-I’m disgusting—!” Candy Pop repeated through a sob. “Y-Yes, yes, I’m so d-disgusting—”
Jason sneered. “You’ve called me a coward, yet you struggle to form a coherent thought.”
“I can’t!” Candy Pop sniffled. His voice faltered, even at its highest peak; it stung just to breathe. “I ca-can’t— hha— think—”
“Oh. You can’t do anything, can you?”
“Mmhm— Mhm!”
“So pitiful.” Jason kissed down the outline of Candy Pop’s ear, until he reunited with Candy Pop’s mouth. Another kiss—just one more. It wasn’t romantic—not even passionate. Only sinful. Messy.
He parted from their kiss, wine clinging to spit. Candy Pop panted, licking up the traces of cherry still stuck to his teeth. Jason wrapped his fingers around the base of his cock, guiding himself in and out with a keen gaze that bordered on feral. He watched as Candy Pop’s cunt stretched around his girth, jaw clenching as he cased himself in the wetness. His thumb brushed over Candy Pop’s clit, a light flick smearing slick on the throbbing bud. He growled through grated teeth, muscles straining as he drew rough circles. Candy Pop arched his back, joining the press of Jason’s thumb. The sensation left him jolting.
“You’re squirming.” Jason kneaded Candy Pop’s chest with a free hand, feeling up his breasts with no reserve. He rolled the erect skin between his fingers—pinched and twisted.
Candy Pop replied with a hoarse sound, clawing and scratching at the chaise, leaving white grooves into red satin. Jason worked his fingers as one, stroking his clit while he fondled his nipples. Candy Pop looked up at Jason through curled lashes, beaded with champagne tears. “M-My neck,” he mumbled. “Pl-Please.”
“Yeah? What do you want?”
“Your hands—!”
“My hands?” Jason wrapped both hands around Candy Pop’s throat. “You want them here?”
Candy Pop nodded weakly. “Right there—!”
Jason grounded himself inside as he pressed down on Candy Pop’s windpipe. It was a tender squeeze, though it wasn’t short of pride and sin. His grip tensed, keeping Candy Pop still as he feverishly thrust into him. Candy Pop coughed, a trembling hand coming up just to touch Jason’s arm. He felt safe in Jason’s hold, as ludicrous as that sounded.
Candy Pop grabbed onto Jason’s sleeve, delicate, with a harsh strain on his bruised wrist. He tugged, and Jason listened, leaning down as his fingers clamped tighter. Jason flicked his tongue over Candy Pop’s lips, the taste of chamomile tears stronger than ever. He swallowed every drip of wine, every saccharine spill. Candy Pop was sure he would pass out—but he didn’t. He enjoyed the hysteria as it lasted; his manic, drunken state begging for more than he could possibly take. His body rocked each time Jason slammed his length inside. He couldn’t speak—and every moan became a pathetic wheeze. His eyes were bleared—the lights around them merged and sparkled like stars, reflecting off cans and glass bottles. Jason’s voice faded into the background. His huffs and puffs echoing in the farthest pits of Candy Pop’s mind. All he could feel was the stretch, and the burn.
Jason was utterly mesmerised by Candy Pop’s devotion to him. He could do anything he wanted. Anything at all. He wanted to make Candy Pop miserable—wanted to ruin him, snap him in half. His stomach churned with a hunger unbeknownst to him. He was ravenous, made so by his own avarice. Jason rammed himself inside with a grunt. He pounded Candy Pop’s dripping cunt, harsh and merciless, still pinning Candy Pop by the neck.
The friction burned—Candy Pop didn’t register it.
“You can take it, can’t you?” Jason growled. “F-Filth like you doesn’t deserve to breathe without permission.”
Candy Pop chased after another high—another orgasm coursing through his frail body. His body shook, a rush of pleasure washing over him. Jason groaned under his breath, tendons relaxing as Candy Pop’s walls clenched around his length.
“G-Gods. You’re tight... Cum for me, j-just like that— L-Let me feel you unravel.”
Jason let go. Candy Pop gasped. His heart rate shot up—body in panic, while his mind swirled with ecstasy. His vision turned to black; his thighs twitched and his hips jerked.
“Yes…” Jason murmured. “Look at how miserable you’ve become. Getting off to m-me strangling you— Cumming like that when you can barely breathe.”
“Hh— HHn, Ja— Jason—” Candy Pop mewled.
Jason held Candy Pop open as he pulled out his cock, steady, taking in the sight of Candy Pop’s flushed cunt. Candy Pop sobbed out; he tossed and turned, tried to grab onto Jason’s shirt, his hands, his thighs. He came all over Jason’s length, strings of cum sticking to the base in a glossy display, spilling from his quivering entrance, ruining the vintage chaise with his slick. Jason watched him thrash with a strange, foaming satisfaction.
“You’re dripping so much.” Jason gradually pushed back inside, sliding against pulsating walls. He didn’t move—he only kept Candy Pop full as his sore muscles unwinded. Jason hummed, deep in his raspberry throat. He gently caressed the span of Candy Pop’s neck with the back of his hand, but even his featherlight touches couldn’t stop the sizzling pain. “A-All bruised up for me, but you’re not allowed to faint yet.”
“Ah…” Candy Pop swallowed back a whimper. The buzz was distant, but it was still there. He returned to the comfort of satin, his body steadily relaxing. “I-It… hurts…”
“Good,” Jason muttered. “Let it ache.”
“J-Jason… Jason, oh…” His orgasm barely simmered. He hiccuped, drooling helplessly. Everything was sore. So sore.
Jason brushed his thumb along the mulberry contour of Candy Pop’s lips. “Spit it out,” he said softly.
“...Hhha… Haha…” Candy Pop turned his head. “I love you like this,” he croaked.
Jason lingered on Candy Pop’s words for a bit too long, his thumb merely resting on Candy Pop’s lips. Then, his eyes lit up. “...What?”
Candy Pop coughed into his palm, wiping off webs of spit. He smiled behind his hand, looking up at Jason through dazed, scintillating eyes, entirely gone. “I love you, Jason… I love you, o-oh, so much. I-I do, I—”
“St-Stop it,” Jason interrupted him. “Shut up.”
“I need you…” Candy Pop drew out.
Jason inhaled sharply. It felt as if a weight had been placed on his shoulders. Didn’t know if it was good or bad, just that it was heavy. The lack of oxygen must have been getting to Candy Pop’s head. Jason narrowed his eyes. Candy Pop had a nagging tendency to say things just to get a rise out of Jason.
Well, Jason was certainly provoked.
“You’re a goddamn joke,” Jason snarled, pushing down on Candy Pop’s elfin waist. “Getting bold, huh? You’re nothing to me. I’m using you, do you get it? Keeping you here until I’ve used up— every last drop.”
He punctuated his sentence with a mean thrust, ripping a moan straight from Candy Pop’s throat.
“Don't—” Jason’s voice was thick with malt, raspy and utterly toxic. “Don’t you even try to speak with me like that again.”
“J-Jason…” Candy Pop slurred; he had the audacity to laugh, as weak as it was.
Jason let out a guttural noise against Candy Pop’s ear. His pace grew unsteady. He snapped his hips forward, thighs straining with each cruel stroke. It wasn’t anger; it wasn’t even hate. It was that desperation again. Every alarm in his brain set off: get away, leave him. But he didn’t listen. His heart pounded rapidly; his nerves set ablaze. He dug his fingers into Candy Pop’s flesh, right at his waist, pulling Candy Pop down as he thrust into him. Their bodies moved in tandem—or so, Jason moved Candy Pop’s body for him. He fucked Candy Pop’s release back inside of him, cock sloshing through his wet cunt.
Candy Pop dragged up his feet on the chaise; his ankles crossed around Jason’s core, their chests flushed upon each other. Jason bit down on Candy Pop’s ear, evoking a shrill whine. He licked into his ear, flicking his tongue along the inner shell. A free hand cupped Candy Pop’s cheek, forcing his face toward Jason’s. Their lips slotted together—Jason slipped his tongue in, and Candy Pop took it with bliss.
Strawberries were strong on their teeth—ripe, but bitter when mixed with pungent clove. They drowned in their liquor sweet kisses. Candy Pop kept his legs firm, tight around Jason’s back. Jason wrapped a hand around one of Candy Pop’s wrists, pressing it to the chaise. But his hold was temporary; his fingers dragged up until their hands intertwined—sound and stable, bracing the two of them as they began to waver.
“M-More—” Candy Pop pleaded. “More, pl-please!”
“Worthless thing. You like this, hm?”
“Worthless! Yes!”
“Keep crying for me. Go on, tell me how good it feels.”
“It’s good— S-So good!” Candy Pop whimpered, his words blending together.
Jason groaned. His nerves were on fire—every inch of body in heat. “Gods, that’s right. Don’t stop…”
Candy Pop could only mumble as Jason fucked him stupid. “Mmh— Y-You’re s-so good to mm— me—” His eyes brimmed with tears, and at this point, his lips were raw and swollen; his tongue lolled out, trying to taste as much of Jason as he could. His head spun—so dizzied that he could only think about Jason’s cock buried inside him.
Jason moved with no restraint and no regret. It must’ve been ages ago he stopped ruminating on the aftermath of it all. His chest heaved, the flames of hatred woven with that of lust—the strongest desire he’d ever felt. It made him impatient—greedy, violent. He thrust himself impossibly deep; Candy Pop struggled to keep up with his momentum.
It hurt—it hurt terribly to know Jason waited so long to hold Candy Pop this way. Not just hold—but break. He blamed it on the alcohol—always—but alcohol couldn’t replicate a feeling so organic and overwhelming. If they could stay like this forever, then maybe life would be more tolerable. If the rest of the world would just leave them alone—Jason, and the most aggravating person he loved—then maybe life could be worth living.
What a terrifying thought.
“G-Gods, Candy Pop, you’re so warm…” Jason barely registered what he said. “You’re n-not gonna let me pull out…”
Candy Pop whined. He grasped onto the back of Jason’s shirt, fabric bunching between his fingers. “Want you to c-cum inside,” he confessed.
“I shouldn’t—”
“You can.”
“Nnh… No, I… Hha— c-can’t…” Jason’s pace was nothing short of relentless. He rammed himself inside. Brutal, and undignified. His chest was alight with new flames that dared to burst. “C-Can’t— Dammit— I’m n-not going to—” Jason’s voice broke; he bit down on his lower lip, his whole body shuddering. He pressed his forehead against Candy Pop’s, moaning as he gave out.
His cock jerked inside; he grinded forward just once, burrowing into Candy Pop’s clenching cunt. He came strong and fast, heaps of cum filling Candy Pop to the rim. Candy Pop held Jason’s body against his—secure, and almost intimate. He felt every pulse; every spurt of Jason’s thick release. Overflowing, gushing out of him. His gasp broke into croaking laughter; knees buckling, legs trembling, ankles losing their hold on Jason’s core. They fell weakly to his sides, splayed out and twitching. Jason’s breath was warm, a force of fervid air mingling with strawberry and burlat. He dragged his hands over the curve of Candy Pop’s hips, branched fingers curling into soft flesh as nothing but an anchor. He hissed at the slightest movement, flinching from his own sensitivity.
And then Jason collapsed onto Candy Pop’s body—as Candy Pop tossed his head to one side, and smiled into the chaise.
“Oh, Gods,” Jason whispered. “Candy Pop…”
“Hehe… Hehhe…” Candy Pop giggled. “You d-did me so good, so full…”
Slowly, Candy Pop wrapped his arms around Jason in a warm embrace. Jason sighed through trembling lips. He nuzzled his face against Candy Pop’s cheek, before he settled his head onto Candy Pop’s shoulder. Candy Pop drummed his fingers along Jason’s spine—no reason in particular, although it pacified Jason’s senses.
Jason’s cock still twitched—still dripping inside. The space between Candy Pop’s thighs was humid—sticky with cum and sweat, but he had no energy to push Jason off. Nor did he have the energy to ask. Although, Jason might’ve gotten the hint from a quiet mewl—or maybe he himself was bothered by it. He slipped out of Candy Pop with a wet slap, his leaking cock rubbing against Candy Pop’s stomach. Candy Pop didn’t mind the discomfort too much, but he was left with an unpleasant emptiness.
Candy Pop, with as much effort as he could, kissed the top of Jason’s head—just before he fell back again, and closed his eyes with a groan. His neck hurt like all hell. Jason didn’t acknowledge the kiss—he actually had no idea where he was, what he was, or who he was. In his drunken stupor, all he could do was lay there, bound to Candy Pop—perhaps, forever. Perhaps, always.
—
Jason woke up to a loud clatter in his bathroom. Jason woke up— in his own bed. He was sore when he got up, sore when he walked into his bathroom, and sore when—
“Candy Pop!” Jason exclaimed.
“Jason!” Candy Pop replied, his voice hoarse. “Do you have any… darker foundation, per se?"
The bathroom counter was cluttered with makeup, none that belonged to Candy Pop. Everything was left open: bronzer, foundation, concealer, and eyeshadow palettes. There were cotton balls and paper towels; a melted bag of ice sitting with splatters of water. Candy Pop smiled sheepishly. He was wearing one of Jason’s blouses over his stockings. One which he had stained with beige. But Jason wasn’t paying attention to any of that. His eyes were set on the very blaring bruises that covered the span of Candy Pop’s neck.
“...What are you doing?!” Jason rushed over, picking up the brightest stick of concealer he could grab. “Cover this up—”
“What do you think I have been trying to do?” Candy Pop rolled his eyes. “Try as you might. These cannot be hidden! At least, hm, not unless you hand me your card and take me to the markets!” He stuck out his tongue, smiling.
Jason stared at him in disbelief. “Absolutely not,” he said. “You are not going out— You cannot go out.”
“Hm, I cannot?” Candy Pop leaned against the counter. “For why?”
“Because you look like that!”
“Yes, I wonder why that is.”
“Shut up, shut up, shut up. I will get you whatever the bloody hell you need.”
Jason felt like he was going to throw up just looking at the bruises—fuck, he couldn’t remember anything from the previous night. But if Candy Pop provoked him or not, it didn’t matter. Jason could not let Candy Pop go out with his handprints on his neck.
“Just don’t— do not be an idiot,” Jason said slowly. “I need you to stay here.”
“Oh.” Candy Pop grinned widely. “Oh, my. You need me, Jason?”
“What— That’s not what I said.”
“Why, I’ll gladly stay here! Forever and forever! What is the need for an education, anyway!” He cackled.
“Stop laughing like that!” Jason glared down at him. “I told you, you…“ He swallowed back his disgust. “You need to stay here until those are gone.”
“Mmhm, who really knows how long that will be? You never know when you will strike me again.” Candy Pop spun around, almost tripping, and then poked Jason in the chest. “I jest, however. How do you plan to have me in your flat for that long? That’s mad, don’t you think?”
Jason flinched, stepping back. He eyed the bruises on Candy Pop’s wrist—dammit, they were bright. Jason huffed. “I know it is.”
But he had no other choice. If Candy Pop went out, he would immediately uncover those bruises. He’d show it off, even. A turtleneck and a scarf couldn’t help that. They were too flimsy, anyway. Jason had no trust in Candy Pop—it was one thing to risk humiliation; it was another to risk his life. His head pounded as he tried to think. The hangover didn’t help. God, whoever allowed him to drink so much should be struck down.
“Well, then—I cannot agree to a madman’s word. No, no!” Candy Pop wagged his finger. “Wring thy filthy thoughts from thy head! I shan’t be held captive like a damsel!—”
“CANDY POP— Allow me to try again.” Jason took a deep breath. “I have no intention of keeping you here as a captive. In fact, I want you to leave as soon as you are able.”
Candy Pop laughed. He rightfully found Jason’s anger to be amusing, if not a little pathetic. “It is nothing, Jason! They are only bruises. You may get me the correct coverage, and send me on my way.”
“That isn’t how it works. You don’t know who would notice.”
“Oh, Nathan wouldn’t care!” He waved his hand. “And Jack is so clueless! He may just think it’s makeup.”
“Yes, and how about Jill, or Jonathan?”
“Well, I’m sure they would… also think it’s makeup?”
“No. They would not.” Jason took a step forward. “Let me see the bruises again. I am sure there is something here for them.”
Candy Pop hummed, low and raw. He tilted up his chin, and pressed his finger to his pulse, wincing. “Here it is. Your pretty little work of art,” he said.
“Stop talking,” Jason muttered, and he kept Candy Pop still with one hand on his shoulder. His gaze trailed from Candy Pop’s neck to his collar. Not any lower; never any lower. There were swollen marks: purples, blues, reds with residues of powder. The product of one drunken night and pent up frustration. Jason pursed his lips. It was sickening. Jason could’ve gagged at how grotesque it looked. But in the same realm, he admired the colours all the same. He was practically infatuated with them.
His hand trembled as he brought a thumb up to Candy Pop’s throat. The memories didn’t flash in his head like he expected them to. He couldn’t feel the way Candy Pop’s pulse stuttered. Couldn’t hear the deep gurgles in his throat. He rubbed over a dark violet smudge; and Candy Pop melted under Jason’s touch. He bit back a whine; Jason heard it nonetheless. His breath hitched.
Truthfully, there was no point to this. Somewhere, in the depths of his depraved mind, he craved closure. And that unsettling heat never did stop clinging to his bones. He settled his palm on Candy Pop’s throat—but reflexively pulled away, startled by how comfortable he became. Candy Pop’s eyes softened, a magenta haze that Jason diverted from. He cleared his throat. “I’ll get you a salve.”
Candy Pop batted his lashes, a flicker of mischief. “Will that fix me, Meyer?”
“Gods, no. You are insufferable. But it will help…”
“I believe you.” Candy Pop rose up, wrapping his arms around Jason’s neck. Jason stumbled back in response, grabbing onto the counter so he didn’t tumble over. “I never intended to decline your offer, really. I would stay even for no benefits at all.”
“Candy Pop—” Jason stuttered. But he didn’t push him away. “For all of heaven’s sake. Will you take this seriously?”
“I am serious, Jason.” Candy Pop carefully ran his hand through Jason’s hair, letting his burgundy locks thread into his fingers. “I’ll stay, I will. I know how much your reputation means to thee… Why shall I impugn it?”
“Because that’s what you always do,” Jason mumbled.
“Nay. Not this time, then… If I wanted to use this against you, Jason, you know I would.”
“Why don’t you?”
“Well, I suppose…” Candy Pop didn’t have a clear answer—not for Jason, nor for himself. He believed it was the hatred that grew them close, but that was hard to believe when the air between them was so tender in its warmth. Candy Pop simply smiled, and pulled away just enough to match eyes. “You amuse me,” he said.
“...You’re ridiculous.” Despite his words, and his overt exhaustion, Jason drew Candy Pop back in. Candy Pop rested his head against Jason’s chest, sighing. Jason’s body relaxed—for reasons unknown to him. He slowly brought his hand over Candy Pop’s back—grounding himself. Jason hated Candy Pop, he did, but his heart ached like he’d never find love this wrong again. And then he quietly spoke, blurting out his thoughts, “I do not remember anything at all.”
“Perhaps, it is meant to be forgotten then.” Candy Pop leaned into Jason’s body. He wanted to feel everything as it happened—but he couldn’t. The events were vague in his head—yet, even in those cloudy memories, the heat of their moment still blazed. But there was nothing he could do except let it burn. “We musn’t dwell on it too much.”
“I rather despise how pleasant you are being,” Jason confessed, his voice gentle.
Candy Pop chuckled. “It is temporary.”
The corner of Jason’s mouth twitched into a little smile. He looked down at Candy Pop, and Candy Pop’s eyes were never so bright—never so mesmerising. He could scorch himself in those pink flames, and he’d do it with glee.
“Will you stay here?” Jason asked.
“I will,” Candy Pop answered. “But… I do have one thing to ask of you.”
“What is it, Candy Pop?”
“Can you go to the pharmacy?”