Topping the Jock

Chapter Three

A.N. Newest chapter, as promised! This time, I'm, switching P.O.V.'s, and I plan to do that a lot in this one, so I hope I do it right. I don't even know if switching P.O.V.'s is a good idea, so do let me know.

Anyway, for this one, I've cast Colton Haynes as Milo. What do you think? I think he fits the whole bully jock thing perfect, no thanks to the first few seasons of Teen Wolf. Plus, that face is just so brutal and violent-looking, like I would enjoy if he beat me up. Oops.

CHAPTER THREE - MILO'S PRECIOUS P.O.V

"You little worm!" I seethed, gritting my teeth, trying to hide the raw rage that forced my hand to slap him right across the face, swift and hard. He flew to the floor right there and then, trying to crawl off as I slowly circled him with my predatory gaze. The kid was small, he tried to fight, I'll give him that. But he was nothing compared to the amazing Milo Young. I was just... I was too much.

"Milo, I didn't-" I kicked him hard, right in the stomach. Nothing was better than revenge. The kid croaked in pain, curling up into a little ball on the hard cemented path, wheezing and panting in pain. Remy deserved this. And I was more than happy to present my vengeance to him on a silver platter.

"Shut your faggot mouth!" I spat, kicking him again. "You," I started, "are nothing but a filthy, disgusting queer. You like sucking cock, do you? I know a guy who loves getting sucked by ugly little queerosexuals like you. You know his name?"

The kid shook his sandy head in complete horror, his entire face shivering. Sometimes, I felt a little guilty when I did stuff like this, but I was addicted to the rush it gave me, the adrenaline of kicking the shit out of anyone, no matter what race, gender, sexuality, size. I'd end them all. I'd bury all these basic bitches.

"Kyle." That one word, that singular word brought the kid into a fit of panted breaths and unending quivers. If he wasn't mine by that point, he would be now.

Everyone knew Kyle had the sickest, most demented sexual mind in the entire town. He was my friend, sort of, but he was one messed up, masochistic fucker. I'd once walked in on him with two girls chained to his bed, a fist for each of them, and he was pretty damn rough about it.

"I'm not scared of you, Milo," he stammered. "You're a pathetic, worthless bully!"

Grabbing the kid by the ankle, I yanked him closer until he lay on the ground directly under me. "What you tryin' to say, fag? You insulting me? Oh, now you're asking for it!" I shouted back at him.

"Go on then, hit me!"

"You must be really stupid," I decided, grabbing the kid by the scruff of his neck, readying my good arm to throw one solid, firm first right into this pretty boy's faggotty little face. Aim, ready, and-

"Leave him alone, Milo."

A smile slowly tugged at my lips, as I recognised that voice. Oh, I loved to hate that voice. I craved to hate it. Dropping the fag back to the ground, I rose, kicked him again, and turned away.

"It's about time, Rimjob, we've been waiting. Don't worry, I've kept your boyfriend comfortable."

"Jaspar, are you okay?" Remy asked, completely ignoring me. Now that, that seriously pissed me off. I couldn't just let him ignore me. So I turned back on his little friend.

"Oh, he's fine, just a bad stomach," I said slowly, booting the kid with blunt force right in the stomach. I turned and sent a smug, cruel smile right at Rimjob Rutherford, Public Enemy No. 2.

He didn't smile back, to say the least. His eyes, grey and cold and ugly, shot daggers at me, just like I knew he would. He ran a hand through his dark brown hair, just like I knew he would. And then, he dived right towards me, just like I knew he would.