Rage With Benefits

Chapter 7: Closet Agendas

Ian slapped his hands away. "Me, Bryce. I care about P.E., I care about school, I care about the ending of Titanic and everything else you don't care about," he spoke non-stop, grabbing his bag as he stood up. "Now put your shirt on and stop frowning. You look like a parrot."

"Is that supposed to be an insult?"

"Shut up."

Bryce snorted. It's not news that he loved pissing Ian off.

They've been frequenting the janitor's closet for more than two days now, three if you count tomorrow. Bryce thought it was the perfect spot. Quiet, secluded and away from the danger of getting caught. Call him a coward or whatever you want but with graduation coming, he couldn't risk having rumors of him being... that. Well, he isn't. He's straight, but gossips work hard in ruining a person's life so better safe than sorry.

It's odd to think about it though, that just two weeks ago, Bryce wanted nothing more than to punch Ian in the face whenever he says something stupid, which is basically any word from the human dictionary. Now, Ian could do literally anything and Bryce would still have this burning desire to fuck the boy upside down. Before, Bryce used to have dreams to push Ian down the pool and maybe hope that he'd die of natural causes. Now, he's been getting these urges want to push him down the pool and just kiss him there until the water dries out.

He didn't know experimenting would be this fun.

Bryce didn't want to put words in his mouth, but with the way things are going on between them, he could say Ian feels the same. Why wouldn't he? It's Bryce. Everyone wants a piece of the guy. The subtle eye contact, the shameless dirty jokes and the way he flaunts his ass on Bryce's face like he wasn't doing it on purpose, speaks a lot.

He was too caught up with his thoughts that he didn't notice Ian heading towards the door with him.

"Wait, hold on," he whispered with warning, hands blocking Ian.

Ian pinched his brows. "What?"

"I'll go first," Ian scoffed at that, knowing full well where this was leading to. "Just make sure that no one's in the hallway before you head out. I don't wanna be-"

"Seen with me, yeah I get it." He tried to hide the annoyance in his voice.

"Right," Bryce reached out to fix his collar, hiding the hickeys beneath them. "Wanna hook up after class?"

"How about you stop making it sound like we're stopping for chicken nuggets or something?"

Bryce hummed. "Is that a no?"

Ian didn't bother to hold an eye roll. "Just get your ugly face the hell out."

"Love you, too," Bryce joked before stealthily stepping outside, not without cupping his face and stealing a quick kiss. Ian gave him a dismissive blink.

"You look like a depressed sloth."

"I hate you."

"Hate you more."

He doesn't even know why he's being annoyed. It's not like he loves the idea of getting caught with Bryce either. He'd literally rather eat shit than admit that he's being bedded by his worst enemy. When he signed up for this, he agreed about being casual with Bryce. Casual. Which means they're not obligated to each other's feelings. He doesn't care if Bryce messes with him when they're with their friends. He doesn't care if all he does is talk about girls and how great they are when he's fucking Ian on the side. He doesn't.

He doesn't care. He doesn't care. He doesn't care. And he repeats that to himself even as he waited patiently for the hallway to empty out. Why? Because he doesn't care.