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(SONG RECOMMENDATION: THE HILLS BY THE WEEKEND).

MIGUEL'S POV

Fuck me.

Fucking hell, why him of all people? Why did it have to be Seth? A nerve-wracking twist churned in my stomach as chills ran down my spine. My eyes locked with Seth’s, and I saw that condescending look in his gaze, the kind that made my blood boil every time.

His hatred was one thing, but now... fuck. My life was in his hands. I couldn’t think, couldn’t speak. My mind was stuck in a loop, replaying the sheer humiliation of him discovering the video. My breaths grew shallow, erratic, and before I knew it, a tear slipped down my cheek. I wiped it away quickly, furious at myself for showing weakness. But the truth was, I was terrified—more than I’d ever been.

“Wow,” Seth drawled, his voice dripping with mockery, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. He was enjoying this—relishing it. Of course he was.

I fumbled with my phone, quickly switching off the video, cutting off the sound of my own moans. It was a stupid mistake, saving that clip of Zed and me. It always gave me a quick release when I needed it, but now? Now it felt like a loaded gun pointed at my head. And Seth was the one holding the trigger.

I hated that smug smirk on his face, hated the way he seemed to savor my discomfort. Seth had loathed me since the moment we met, and I couldn’t even blame him. He was always stuck in second place, always just behind me. But this wasn’t the time for petty rivalries. My world was hanging by a thread, and he held the scissors.

“Don’t ever go through my things!” I snapped, my voice sharper than I intended. I tried to sound firm, but even I could hear the tremor in my tone.

Seth’s laughter echoed in the empty locker room, harsh and mocking. It grated on my nerves, scraping against the fragile control I was clinging to. I wiped my face again, forcing myself to stand tall, even though my knees felt like they might buckle.

“You fag,” he sneered, each word a dagger. “You suck cock and let it fuck you in the ass. The golden boy’s a fucking whore for dicks.”

My stomach twisted violently. His words hung in the air, suffocating me. I wanted to say something—anything—but my tongue felt like lead. I glanced at him again, his expression a mixture of triumph and malice. That wild, chaotic glint in his eyes made my blood boil, but it also made me feel sick.

I tried to think, to form a plan, but my brain felt like it was short-circuiting. Every part of me was screaming to run, to get out of here, but I couldn’t. Not yet.

“The school would love this update,” Seth said, his voice soft but cutting. He turned as if to leave, and something inside me snapped. I grabbed his arm and slammed him into the lockers, pinning him with my elbow against his throat.

“Don’t you bloody say a thing,” I hissed, my voice low and cold. I hoped it sounded threatening, but Seth just smirked, unfazed.

“Why not?” he taunted, his voice dripping with fake sympathy. “The school loves you, right? Letting them know you enjoy fucking dicks won’t change that.”

His words hit like a slap, and I clenched my jaw to keep from reacting. I couldn’t let him see how much this was getting to me. This was a game to him—a twisted, sadistic game.

But then, he took it a step further.

“What would Daddy say?” he said, his tone casual, almost bored. “Your sweet, sweet daddy, who loves bragging about his perfect son... what would he say about his son getting fucked?”

My vision blurred with rage. Without thinking, I lashed out, my fist connecting with his face. The sound of the impact echoed in the room, and Seth stumbled back, blood trickling from his lip.

“Bloody fag! How dare you?” he snarled, retaliating with a punch of his own. It landed square on my jaw, and I stumbled, but I didn’t fall. Adrenaline surged through me as I hit him in the neck, driving a kick into his side. He grabbed a fistful of my hair, yanking me toward him. In the chaos, my towel slipped off, leaving me exposed.

The cold metal of the locker pressed against my chest as Seth shoved me against it, pinning me with his weight. My face hit the handle, and I cursed under my breath.

“Fucking let me go—I need to breathe!” I spat, struggling against him.

But he didn’t let go. His grip only tightened, his body pressing harder against mine, pinning my arms behind my back. His breath was warm against my ear as he leaned in close.

“Why should I?” he purred, his tone mockingly sweet. “I bet you like it rough. Isn’t this a kink for fags?”

His words sent a shiver down my spine, and my cock twitched involuntarily. The scent of his soap—woodsy and warm—filled my nostrils, clouding my thoughts. No. Not here. Not now. I couldn’t let this happen.

“I’m beginning to think you know me better than I do,” I said, forcing a smirk. “I feel your cock pressing against my ass, Seth. Do you want to fuck me? Is that what this is about?”

His grip on my neck tightened, and for a moment, I thought he might snap. But instead, he shoved me harder against the locker, his lips crashing onto mine. The kiss was rough, demanding, and completely unexpected.

And worse? I kissed him back.

His hands roamed my body, exploring every inch of exposed skin. His fingers found my nipples, twisting them just hard enough to make me gasp. My cock throbbed against his palm as he wrapped his hand around me, stroking with a precision that left me breathless.

“Fucking good… feels so good,” I moaned, my voice breaking.

He didn’t stop. His strokes grew faster, more deliberate, until I was on the edge of release. My breathing was ragged, my thoughts a jumbled mess.

“Not so hard—Seth, stop… I’ll… I’ll cum!” I gasped.

“Then bloody do it,” he growled, his voice low and commanding.

And I did. My body jerked forward as I spilled onto his hand, my release leaving me trembling. He didn’t stop, didn’t pull away, until he’d finished stroking himself, his own release mixing with mine.

For a moment, we just stood there, breathing heavily, reality sinking in like a lead weight.

“Forget this,” Seth said suddenly, pulling away. “This shit never happened. If you tell anyone, I’ll fucking murder you.”

I swallowed hard, unable to speak, my hands trembling at my sides. When I reached out to him, he slapped my hand away.

“Don’t touch me, faggot,” he snarled, his eyes blazing with anger. “This didn’t happen. Get it through your head.”

And with that, he was gone, leaving me alone in the empty locker room. For the first time in years, I saw fear in Seth’s eyes. But that didn’t make the knot in my chest loosen. If anything, it made it worse.