Squeaking of the marker in Mrs. Corey's hand against the whiteboard was doing Rye's head in. Each squeak sent another spark of pain through his skull, radiating down through his body.
He grips the pencil in his hand so hard it snaps in half, the sound causing Andy to nudge Rye's ribs. The slight joust causing pain to ripple through his abdomen, feeling as though knives were being stabbed into his sides every time he so much as shifts the slightest bit.
"Alright mate?" Andy whispers, his eyes not leaving the board where Mrs. Corey is droning on about the correct way to format the quadratic formula.
Rye opened his mouth to respond, but shut it just as quickly as a wave of nausea overtook him. Feeling the blood rush from his face and a slight sheen of sweat begin to form on his forehead, he knew he had to make it out of the classroom. Before his mind could register what he was doing, Rye was out of his seat. Bolting through the door and rushing towards the bathroom.
He was vaguely aware of Mrs. Corey yelling for him to come back to class. Which only made him feel even worse. And run even faster.
Finally reaching the bathroom, he flung himself onto the floor under the sinks, needing somewhere quiet to get himself under control again. Vision blurring and sending spots of black across his vision, he fists his hands in his hair as he breathes slow breathes in and out. Skin hot like fire as sweat trickles down the back of his neck, tickling the sensitive skin as the beads make their way down his back.
Voices outside the door alerted him that he would soon have to get up and pretend he was fine again.
"No! You- You can't go in there." The voice pleads, door thumping back against the door frame as it slams shut.
"Get out of the way, Andrew." comes the growled response.
"Hurt him, I'll kill you." Andy warns, earning a laugh from the other voice.
Rye whimpers as the fire raging inside him now shifts to the pit of his stomach. Rye can't feel anything but need and want and lust. The feeling is so new and so unexpected that he whimpers again. Eyes clenching shut, arms coming up to shield his head as the door is kicked from its frame clattering against the opposite wall.
Warm arms slide around him and he's being pulled into someone's lap, his hands involuntarily gripping the person's shirt. Pulling him closer, needing him closer.
Rye groans and writhes on the boy's lap, desperately fighting to bring their lips together. He doesn't know how he knows, but he knows the pain will fade away when their lips are connected. The boy tightens his grip, one hand splayed on Rye's chest to keep him from coming any closer, the other resting against Rye's cheek, thumb stroking over his cheekbone. Rye turns his face towards the hand on his cheek, biting his lip to keep in the whines threatening to escape his lips.
"What's you name, baby? Tell me your name sweetheart." The boy coaxes, his voice filled with restraint, though Rye can feel desperation running through his veins.
Rye whines as another shot of fire rushes through his body, burning through his torso and ending in his groin.
"Rye. My- My name is Rye." He pants, squirming as the front of his pants brushes the boy's stomach, partially relieving him of some of the strain he's fighting against.
"Good boy. You're doing so well. I'm Brook. Can you remember that Rye?" Immediately, Rye's eyes flicker up to Brook's. The way Brook said his name- It was like a switch had been flipped as Rye pressed himself to Brook, grinding their fronts together harshly.
Only to whine again as Brook pulled him away. "Wait, Rye." Another whine rolled from Rye's lips.
"Let me get you home, baby boy. Then you're all mine." Brook stood, pulling Rye up with him.
But as Rye tried to stand he stumbled, Brook barely managing to catch him before his knees gave out.
