Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

tick. tick. tick.

“its outrageous! every single time class is in session, someone finds him wandering the halls, hiding out in the bathroom— we find him everywhere but class.”

tick. tick. tick.

“at this rate, he’s going to fail the semester.”

tick. tick. tick.

“he’s a smart kid, really. he just doesn’t put in the effort.”

tick. tick. tick.

“he can do better than this. he has a bright future ahead of him.”

tick. tick. tick.

“we just don't know why he wants to ruin it.”

tick. tick. tick.

tock.

“vincent.”

slowly looking up from his lap, vincent meets the eyes of the person calling his name. a man, presumably in his thirties. his auburn hair is loosely slicked back with a small amount of product, getting slightly longer as it goes down the nape of his neck. his eyes are a soft, muted shade of green, and he has two moles on the apple of his left cheek. his expression is firm, not intimidating or overly cheerful. that is, until he flashes a small smile at him.

vincent’s eyes quickly avert. the man drops the smile in confusion. 

“…please follow me into my office.” he says, tone gentle yet assertive. it makes vincent sick, makes him feel like a child. its utterly humiliating, being led into the counselor’s office like this. 

with no indication of his acknowledgement, he stands up, allowing the man to lead him into his office.

its awfully plain— and messy. the walls are a cream color and there’s a few picture frames hung up— some of art, some of people. the desk is the messiest part— stray papers and notes are strewn across the length of it, as well as a few pens and pencils. there are a couple decorations on the desk, as well as a small photo in a simple frame, picturing what seems to be the counselor and his family. its just his mother and father, and vincent assumes he’s an only child.

the counselor pulls out a chair, presumably for vincent. it looks surprisingly comfortable. “please, sit.” he walks over to the other side of the desk, allowing vincent to sit down in the chair. he tidies his workspace up for a moment— well, tidy might not be the word. he more so just pushes the papers aside. 

vincent's gaze is fixated back on his lap. he doesn’t know where else to look. a clear of the throat catches his attention, and he whips his head up. 

“good morning, vincent,” the counselor starts, smiling once again. “i don't believe we’ve met before, as i came here not too long ago. i’m mr. lamoree, but you can just call me rody,” he introduces himself, reaching his hand out to shake vincent’s. unfortunately for him, vincent is not having any of that, as he just ignores the hand in front of him, looking at rody with narrowed eyes. 

“ah… not a big fan of touch, huh?” rody chuckles. “that’s alright, no worries. its good to set boundaries.”

vincent tries not to cringe.

”so, why don't we get to the topic at hand?” rody says, tone still gentle. vincent wants to die. “your teachers and the security have told me you’ve been skipping classes. so many, in fact, that you might fail the semester.” his eye contact is unwavering, and it makes vincent feel uneasy. “is there a reason for this? anything that makes you not want to go to class?”

vincent clenches his jaw, furrowing his eyebrows. he stays quiet. in all honesty, it just felt like too much work. it felt like he had better things to spend his time on.

“vincent, i know it may not seem like it, but trust me. i want to help you, not punish you. so if there’s anything— anything at all— that makes you perhaps afraid to go to class, or makes you upset when you do, please do tell me. i will do my best to work with you to find possible solutions.” rody clasps his hands on the desk, leaning forward slightly. vincent’s eyes dart around the room.

”…i just don't want to.”

vincent mumbles after a few beats of silence. rody hums softly in confirmation. 

”and there’s nothing contributing to that?” rody asks, and vincent shakes his head slowly. rody sighs. “vincent, i need you to be honest, okay? if something’s happening to you— even at home— that’s bothering you, you can tell me. this is a judgement free zone, alright?” rody looks at him with an expression laced with concern. vincent feels like rolling his eyes, but holds back for obvious reasons. 

“everything that’s said here stays in here. unless, of course, you’re in any sort of danger.”

vincent wants to laugh. his parents would never lay a finger on him. not that they’re good parents, they just simply don't care enough to discipline him beyond the occasional reprimand. “im not.” he reassures, trying to fight back the smirk tugging on his lips. “i'll go to class from now on.”

rody stares at him, unconvinced. “you’ve skipped so many classes, gotten so many detentions… i cant say i trust you. it seems that no matter what we do, your behavior never changes.” 

”i'm sorry, mr. lamoree.”

”sorry doesn’t cut it. i need to see genuine change in you, vincent,” rody says firmly. “i don't want to have to suspend you for any amount of time, and i don’t want you to fail this semester. i believe you can do it, even if you need a little help.”

vincent does not reply. rody lets out a breath.

”does it just feel like too much work?”

vincent digs his fingers into the skin of his arm. how did this man manage to read him like a book? he knows he didn’t make it obvious. he’s not depressed— at least, not visibly.

“i told you. i just don’t feel like going,” vincent says flatly. “i’ll go from now on. can i please leave now?” he never once meets rody’s gaze. 

rody shuts his eyes, sighing once again.

“yes. i won’t give you another detention as your teachers and the previous counselor did, because those clearly do not work… but if you skip your classes again, there will be consequences,” rody informs him. “i’m choosing to trust you, vincent. don’t let me down, okay?”

vincent nods wordlessly. 

“you’re dismissed.”

vincent did not go to class from that day on.

well, that’s not entirely true. he went to some of his classes. the ones that didn’t make him want to kill himself, that is. his teachers gave him dirty looks and passive aggressive comments usually, which definitely helped him with wanting to go to his classes.

of course, he was extremely behind on his work, so they usually made him stay after class if possible. if he had an elective after the class, he would be forced to stay and do copious amounts of work until his next proper class. it was terrible. it made him want to ditch school completely. not to mention the fact that he had absolutely no friends in any classes. so as everyone was mingling away, talking about whatever drama and gossip was going on in their lives, vincent would sit quietly in the back, trying to focus on his work. 

hiding out in the bathroom while he skipped definitely wasn’t the smartest thing to do. he figured he was going to get caught. he doesn’t exactly know why he even skipped in the bathroom— he could’ve left the school if he was careful enough. the security wasn’t exactly the best.

now here he was, being dragged back to the counselor’s office. he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep this up.

vincent chews on his nails nervously, sitting in the same chair as before. rody finishes up some paperwork silently. the ticking clock in the background is deafening.

”i’m disappointed to see you in my office again.”

vincent is startled by the sudden voice. his eyes dart up towards the source, but his head doesn’t move. he can hear rody shift in his seat. he says nothing.

”i told you there would be consequences if you skipped again.” rody taps his pen on his desk, resting his face in his palm. 

vincent presses his lips together into a thin line. “…and what are those consequences?”

”in-school suspension.”

vincent finally looks up. “huh…?”

”yes,” rody says, straight faced, “you will come to my office everyday for the week instead of going to your classes. don't think about skipping this either, as that’ll just extend the time you need to serve here, and we will contact your parents.”

vincent huffs quietly. great. just great. he was hoping he’d get out of school suspension, but perhaps it was too obvious that he’d enjoy that.

”perhaps that’ll give you some time to open up to me.” 

vincent goes home that day to his very angry parents who promptly yell at him as soon as he opens the door. 

running off to his room almost immediately, vincent nearly slams the door behind him and locks it as quick as possible, lest his parents barge in. thankfully, they usually give up on the yelling when he locks himself in his room.

vincent buries his head into his pillow. he really doesn’t want to deal with mr. lamoree for the whole week. he already hates sitting in a classroom, he would despise being watched all day by someone. not to mention, he would actually have to do his work.

he peeps at the clock next to his bed. it’s just about 4:50.

turning onto his back, he sighs. a nap couldn’t hurt. he’s just so, so tired from the past few days. he shifts so he’s laying on his side, grabbing a pillow and hugging it close to his chest. he nuzzles his head into it, letting his eyes fall shut as he relaxes into the warmth of his bedsheets.

he falls asleep still in his school uniform.

somebody is touching him.

vincent groans at the thought of having to wake up, attempting to turn over and cover himself. he’s pulled back from hiding by two strong hands, one of them pinning his wrists above his head, and the other holding his chin between its thumb and forefinger.

“vincent.”

the voice is familiar… so familiar. yet vincent can’t seem to put his finger on it.

“look at me,” the person whispers.

vincent feels heavily inclined to follow their orders. he slowly opens his eyes, adjusting to the moonlight peeking through his curtains. when he finally sets his eyes on the person in front of him, he nearly gasps.

it’s mr. lamoree. and he’s straddling him in his own bed.

rody chuckles softly. “don’t act so surprised. i know you want this, after all,” he murmurs, leaning down to vincent’s ear. he gently licks the shell of it, before nibbling softly. vincent can’t help the shiver that wracks through his entire body.

“w—what are you…” he starts, only to be shushed by the counselor. a finger is placed on vincent’s lips, and he feels rody start to trail his lips down his jaw.

rody parts from him slightly to look him in the eyes.

“do you want to kiss me?” he asks, voice sultry.

vincent doesn’t know why, but he nods.

heat rises to his cheeks as rody presses his lips against his. he coaxes vincent into tilting his head slightly so their lips fit together easily. rody pushes his tongue into vincent’s mouth, causing him to let out a small gasp. rody laps at vincent’s tongue, suckling on it delicately. vincent’s hands move to grip rody’s face, and he deepens the kiss at that.

vincent is being devoured by his school counselor. and he’s loving every second of it.

rody breaks the kiss. vincent can’t help but make a small sound of protest, trying to pull him back in. 

“w… why’d you stop?” vincent breathes out.

“you and i both know this can't last forever.”

rody presses a short lived kiss to vincent’s lips, leaving vincent whining for more.

“what…?” 

rody cups his cheek, leaning back down to stuff his face in the crook of vincent’s neck. he trails soft pecks up his neck until he reaches his ear.

“wake up.” he whispers.

vincent jolts awake. his eyes fly open and he observes his surroundings carefully.

it was just a dream. of course it was. there was no way rody could be with him like that—

why rody ?

why him of all people? usually, when vincent gets these dreams, they’re of nobody specific. he turns to his side, pulling the covers over his head to hide beneath them.

he almost didn’t realize, but it’s completely dark outside. he didn’t mean to sleep through the whole rest of the day— he must’ve been really tired. not only that, but he’d fallen asleep in his school uniform as well.

vincent then realizes that he’s uncomfortably hot and sweaty. he begins to shed his clothing, unbuttoning his shirt and slipping it off it shoulders, then unzipping his pants and shimmying out of those.

flopping back onto his bed, vincent’s eyes trail to his alarm clock. it’s midnight. he supposes he should try to get some more sleep. 

not bothering to put on his pajamas, vincent pulls the covers over himself once again, shifting until he finds a comfortable position. he lets his eyes fall closed.

this time, when he falls asleep, mr. lamoree does not appear in his dreams.

Chapter Text

having to stay in rody’s office for the entire school day was a nightmare . especially after that… dream vincent had last night.

at first it wasn’t too bad. relatively peaceful, even. vincent would sit at a desk situated in the corner of the room in front of rody’s much larger and… messier desk. vincent hardly did his work despite it being the only thing he had to do. rody would occasionally remind him to focus, but wasn’t too strict about it overall. vincent spent most of his first day mindlessly doodling at the edges of pages and sneaking glances at rody.

mr. lamoree was definitely attractive, not that vince wanted him or anything like that. he just couldn’t help but peek at him every once in a while, see what he was doing. watch his large hands grip his pen as he wrote, his eyes fixed on the paper in front of him. 

…okay, maybe vincent did want him. just a little bit.

vincent had always being attracted to older men more than boys his age. sure, he would see a handsome boy in the hall and get a little sheepish sometimes, but attractive older men just made him straight up nervous. hence why he was so eager to get out of rody’s office at first. and of course, the fact that he didn’t like when people would pry about his personal life.

speaking of prying about vincent’s personal life, a few hours into the school day, rody started to do exactly that.

“so, vincent, what do you like to do in your free time?”

vincent looks at him, puzzled. “like… as a hobby?” he asks, uncertainty lacing his voice. 

rody nods. 

“oh… um. i like to cook.”

vincent nearly snorts. what a silly answer. rody gives him a soft smile.

“that’s lovely. what sort of dishes do you make?” he places his hand underneath his chin, resting it on top. his full attention is now on vincent. vincent averts his eyes uncomfortably.

i don’t know is on the tip of his tongue, but when he goes to speak—

“uh, just… everything, i guess.”

rody hums in confirmation. 

“vincent,” rody starts, “i can tell you’re very uncomfortable around me. trust me, i understand why you would be. but i want you to know there really is nothing to worry about. this is a safe space.” the tone of his voice is gentle and comforting. “i’m not going to scold you or anything, you’re free to tell me anything that may be on your mind.

vincent’s throat feels tight. 

“i know it seems like i do, but i don’t think you’re a bad kid, vincent.”

vincent chews on his lip. how humiliating. he’s nearly brought to tears by a school counselor telling him what he probably tells everyone. he tries to speak, but it feels like he can’t without it coming out as a garbled sob.

“are you alright?” rody suddenly realizes how vincent has tensed up and gone quiet. he quickly gets up to stand next to vincent, placing a hand on his shoulder and rubbing softly. “vincent…”

vincent can feel the tears pricking at his eyes. he needs to get out of here before he starts crying in front of this man. he’s not supposed to cry. he’s supposed to be stronger than that— he’s supposed to be a man.

vincent swats his hand away, shooting up out of his chair.

“i—i… have to use the bathroom.”

he runs out of the room without looking back.

vincent clenches his jaw as he stares at himself in the mirror. his tears have long since dried as he’s been in the bathroom for almost 20 minutes.

he looks like a mess. hair falling out of his loose ponytail. eyes red and puffy. lips red and bitten. he wipes his eyes with his hands, trying to make himself look somewhat presentable before he leaves. taking out his hair tie, he pulls his hair back to put it back up.

vincent can hear a group of bustling boys outside of the bathroom. great , he thinks to himself.

he tunes out their conversations. it’s mindless babble about girls and how attractive they find them. they name a few women in their school, none of which vincent recognizes.

then there's a bang on the door.

“hey, open the fuck up! i gotta take a leak!” the boy outside yells. vincent internally curses to himself. he still looks like he’s been crying, and they’ll surely tease him about it if he leaves in this state.

but what other choice does he have? he can’t stay here forever.

vincent sighs quietly, unlocking the door and attempting to slip past them as quickly as possible. unfortunately, his dreams are crushed when one of them grabs his arm, yanking him back forcefully.

“what—”

they laugh as he tries— and fails— to pull away. he’s much too weak compared to other men his age due to his terrible eating habits. 

“hey, ain’t you the kid everyone's been talking about?”

vincent looks at them like a deer in headlights. people have been talking about him? “w—what?” he mumbles, voice coming out small. they snicker at him.

“oh, you are! ” one of the boys pulls him by his shirt collar. “is it true?” he gets far too close to his face for comfort. vincent leans back slightly in an attempt to put some space between them. he usually never interacts with anyone during school. he doesn’t know why anyone would talk about him in the first place.

“is what true?”

the boy holds his shirt tighter as vincent tries to wrestle his hand off. “are you really a faggot? i bet you are.” he says, words laced with disgust.

vincent’s eyes widen. how did they find out? there was nothing he had done to make it apparent. “i—i don’t know what you’re—” he sputters, trying to struggle out as his breathing speeds up from the panic bubbling up in his chest.

the boy holding vincent throws him against the wall, a repulsive expression on his face. vincent hits his head against the wall hard , making the world spin for more than a few moments. he stumbles to the ground, holding his head and groaning as his ears ring loudly.

“i bet you’re getting hard from this, huh? fucking nasty ,” the boy spits. vincent’s face burns with shame. he really isn’t— not from this. if it were to be someone else, maybe he would. but not this.

“i heard he’s been seeing the new counselor a little too much lately,” another one of the boys chimes in. “you think he’s fucking him?”

they erupt into a fit of laughter.

vincent, still dizzy from his head hitting the wall so violently, attempts to stand. he topples forward into the guy in front of him, which results in him quickly being shoved off. “get the fuck off me, fag!”

there’s a sudden sharp pain vincent’s nose, and he instinctively moves his hand up to clutch it. the smell of iron invades his nostrils. when he looks at his fingers, they’re covered in blood.

he’s surrounded now. there’s no way he’s getting out of here.

his head throbs with white hot pain. he feels so lightheaded he thinks he might pass out. his sight swims as his legs wobble, struggling to hold him up. he couldn’t have hit his head that hard, right?

his eyes fall shut as he passes out, going limp on the tiled floor. the boys quickly scurry away once they realize what they’d done.

thankfully, vincent wakes up soon enough that nobody had seen him laying still against the bathroom door. or at least, if anybody had seen, they didn’t bat an eye.

as he regains consciousness, he realizes just how much pain he’s in. his head is pounding and his nose is aching dully. what time is it? he needs to get back to mr. lamoree’s office before the staff start looking for him.

his eyes open only to be brutally assaulted by the school lights. he squints, trying to adjust to the brightness. it only makes his head hurt more.

it doesn’t matter. he just needs to suck it up. it could’ve gone a lot worse.

“vincent?! what happened to you?!”

vincent wipes his nose, sniffling. thankfully, he doesn’t think it’s broken or anything. rody quickly rushes to his side, grabbing a tissue to help him clean up the rest of the blood. vincent jerks away as he attempts to grab his face. taking the tissue to do it himself, he situates himself back in his little desk.

“…i just got a nosebleed while walking back.” he mumbles, placing his head in his arms and shutting his eyes. really, the lights are just too bright right now. he needs a little darkness and peace and quiet. 

rody does not seem to buy his excuse. he crosses his arms, staring him down. “yeah right, your nose is all red. it looks like it’s going to bruise.” he rolls his chair next to vincent’s, sitting by him. “you don’t have to tell me what happened if you really don’t want to, but at least go get some ice.”

“my head is killing me. i need a moment,” vincent says, clearly not on the mood to deal with him.

“did somebody beat you up?” rody questions, a concerned tone in his voice.

vincent groans. “did somebody ever teach you it’s not polite to pry into people’s personal business?” he snaps, lifting his head up to stare the counselor down.

rody sighs. “vincent, if somebody hurt you, i need you to tell me.” 

digging his fingers into his hair and growling, vincent speaks again. “yes, someone did hurt me. i don’t even know their names so don’t bother asking who did it,” he snarls. “happy now?”

rody stares at him with pity. vincent wants to shoot himself right there.

“i’ll go get you an ice pack.”

rody gently presses the ice pack to vincent’s nose, causing the boy to flinch slightly at the freezing temperature.  “i know, its cold.” rody whispers. vincent lets out a soft noise of protest, but doesn’t stop him.

”do you want to tell me exactly what happened?” rody asks, allowing vincent to hold the ice pack himself now. vincent’s fingers rapidly go numb. he averts his eyes to the side, cheeks heating up with embarrassment as he recalls what had happened.

he shakes his head softly. rody nods, patting vincent’s head as he stands up to head back to his own desk. vincent finds himself missing the short-lived touch. he lets himself relax slowly, laying his head on the desk and closing his eyes. at this point, he thinks he might fall asleep. he listens intently to the sound of rody writing, letting it lull him closer and closer to slumber like white noise. he’s exhausted from today, and it’s only 2 p.m.

…it’s fine. at least he gets to leave in a couple hours.

school is almost over.

rody stares at vincent. he wonders how much sleep the boy gets at night, considering he’s knocked out on his desk right now and has been for about an hour and a half. he’ll need to wake him up soon.

vincent snores quietly, open mouth leaking drool on his arm. rody chuckles. he looks kind of cute like this. all his inhibitions let down, napping peacefully.

…not in a weird way, of course. he’s 16, after all. rody would never think that way about a 16 year old. it’s just nice to see him completely relaxed for once. vincent stirs, letting out a soft noise. rody watches in amusement as he snuggles his face into the crook of his arm.

he really doesn’t want to wake the poor boy up. he just looks so comfortable. rody almost wants to go up to him and stroke his hair like you’d pet a cat. he wonders if he would shy away from his touch or lean into it.

that’s… that’s weird, isn’t it? he shouldn’t be thinking of this kind of stuff— not about vincent.

before rody has time to process his own thoughts, vincent groans softly. his eyes snap back over to the boy, and he finds him rubbing his eyes, trying to adjust to the bright light in the room.

“morning, sleepyhead.” it slips out of rody’s mouth before he realizes, along with a quiet chuckle. 

vincent shoots him a look of annoyance.

“what… what time is it?” he croaks out, voice raspy from sleep.

“4:00. it’s almost time for you to go home.”

vincent groans, dreading the idea of having to walk home in this state. “…can you drive me home?”

he wants to face palm as soon as he says it. who asks their school counselor to drive them home? not to mention— if someone’s sees him, the rumors about him fucking mr. lamoree would get ten times worse. they would have something more to go off besides him being in rody’s office all day.

rody looks a little stunned for a moment, before quickly collecting himself. “ah— um. i don’t think that would be… very appropriate, vincent.”

vincent finds himself pouting. he thinks he might pass out standing up if he tries to walk home. not to mention, he doesn’t want to get picked on again.

“…but i can make an exception, if you’re too tired to walk home.” rody gives a sheepish smile. 

vincent sighs in relief. he’s sure if he’s careful about it nobody will see him. “thanks…” he mumbles.

setting his head back down, he shuts his eyes once more, allowing himself to fall back into slumber.

vincent feels a hand tapping him on the shoulder. lifting his head up from its spot on the desk, he looks at rody with tired eyes. it’s probably 4:30 now.

“it’s time to go, vincent,” rody states the obvious. “still want me to take you home?”

vincent hazily nods. he needs to pack up. he places his schoolwork into a folder and slips it into his bag, putting away his materials back into his pencil case. slinging his bag over his shoulder when he’s done, rody leads him out of the office.

the walk to the faculty parking lot is long and silent. they sneak occasionally glances at each other along the way. vincent prays nobody recognizes him as he walks.

when they eventually arrive at rody’s car, which is run down and relatively worse for wear, he opens the passenger door for vincent. vincent sits inside, placing his bag by his feet. rody places his bag in the backseat before sitting on the driver's seat.

“where exactly do you live? i can’t take you there if i don’t know where it is.” rody pushes the key into the ignition, turning it until the engine starts.

when rody turns to make eye contact with vincent, he averts his eyes bashfully. “oh, um… not too far from here. it’s like a ten minute walk. i’ll tell you where to go,” he says quietly. rody’s nods in acknowledgment.

they pull out of the parking lot. vincent gestures which ways to go.

“your parents are okay with this, right?” rody keeps his eyes fixed on the road and hands on the steering wheel. truthfully, he doubts his parents would care one bit. they didn’t really care about anything he did. they probably wouldn’t notice if he disappeared for a day. either that, or they just wouldn’t think anything of it.

he’s been allowed to do mostly everything for as long as he remembers. he was allowed to eat dirt and bugs as a child, allowed to cook for himself whenever he wanted as long as he cleaned up after himself. (which led to his passion for cooking now, along with… nevermind.) they let him talk to whoever he wanted, uncaring if they were a bad influence or wanted to do something terrible to him.

“…yes. don’t worry, mr. lamoree.” vincent mumbles after a moment. 

rody nods. “you don’t have to call me that, y’know. just rody is fine.” he says with a smile. vincent clenches his jaw. he does not want to call him his first name.

“that’s a bit unprofessional, don’t you think?” 

rody shoots him a look of amusement. “don’t you think what i’m doing right now is unprofessional? plus, i prefer being called by my first name.”

he makes it sound like he’s doing something worse than just driving me home, vincent thinks. 

“okay, rody.” the name feels unfamiliar on his tongue. he looks out of the window at the passing cars, trying to ignore the fact that this is all extremely weird when he thinks about it. he should definitely not be driven home by his teacher, and he also definitely shouldn’t be calling him by his first name…

“so, what’s your home life like, vincent?” rody asks suddenly, making vincent raise an eyebrow.

“why do you ask? that’s kind of invasive…” vincent picks at his skin, refusing to make eye contact. rody just loves asking about his personal life, huh? he probably thinks vincent’s getting abused at home or something— quite the opposite, really. 

“i think it’d be good for me to know a little more about you, that’s all. since we’re going to spend the whole week together.” 

ah… that’s a lie. well, maybe it isn’t. but vincent is sure he also just wants to make sure he’s not getting beaten by his parents at home. 

“i’m not getting beaten at home. if you wanted to know, you could have just asked.” vincent grumbles, crossing his arms.

of course, rody immediately starts to defend himself.

“that’s not why i asked!” he pauses, “…well, of course, it’s my job as a counselor to make sure you’re alright, even at home, but it’ll do us good to get to know each other. i want you to be comfortable around me, you know?”

“you’re certainly doing a great job at that,” vincent scoffs. 

“hey, now. there’s no need to give me an attitude. i’m just trying to be nice!”

vincent huffs. “how about you tell me about your home life then?” he side-eyes rody. 

“oh, it would bore you, i’m sure…” rody trails off, chuckling nervously.

“no, no. i insist.” vincent smirks. “got a wife? kids, maybe?”

rody’s face drops slightly. vincent notices, expression going blank. fuck. he didn’t mean to actually make him upset. he didn’t realize he’d hit a nerve.

“my wife, uh… we recently got divorced.”

oh.

vincent takes a breath, the tension in the air so thick you could slice right through it with a sharp knife. “oh… i’m sorry. i had no idea.” 

rody laughs. it sounds pained and full of grief.

“no, no. it’s alright, really. it was for the best…” he smiles softly. “i’m sure i’ll get her back.”

“…yeah.”

“still don’t want to tell me about your home life?”

vincent grinds his teeth. “i guess i can,” he rasps out. “my mom and dad are okay, i guess. don’t pay attention to me much, which i kind of like. means i don’t really get in much trouble.” vincent pushes his hair behind his ear. “not that there’s much trouble for me to get in besides skipping classes at school. i don’t have any friends, really.”

“really?” rody glances to him. “no friends at all?”

“nope.”

there it is again. that look of pity. it fills vincent with rage. he clenches his fists. “you don’t have to look at me like that.” he mutters.

“look at you like what?” rody looks as confused as ever. vincent somehow cannot bring himself to be mad anymore.

“…nevermind.” he rests his chin in his hand.

the rest of the car ride is silent.

“remember to do your homework, vincent!”

vincent waves him off. “yeah, yeah. i will, don’t worry.”

he knows he won’t.

opening the door to the car, he grabs his bag and pulls it out, slinging it over his shoulder just like before. 

“thank you for driving me home, rody,” vincent says, staring at the counselor blankly.

“of course, vincent! feel free to ask whenever you need.”

vincent nods, shutting the door and walking to his doorstep. he can hear rody drive off in the distance as he unlocks his front door and steps inside. his parents do not greet him. he can smell the fragrant scent of food throughout the whole house.

…he’d rather not think about eating right now.

he trudges up his stairs tiredly, throwing his bag on the floor as soon and flipping face down onto his bed as he closes his room door. 

he’s so, so tired. 

he really shouldn’t sleep so early like he did yesterday. he doesn’t want to risk waking up at 12 in the morning, unable to sleep for the rest of the night. if he could, he’d just sleep forever. it sounds a whole lot better than having to live at this point.

he chuckles tiredly. he doesn’t have a reason to be so tired everyday. all he does is go to school, go home, and sleep. it’s nothing compared to what his parents do, or quite frankly anyone else.

…it’s whatever. 

he should probably get changed before he falls asleep in his school uniform again and sweats throughout the whole night. these things aren’t exactly very comfortable. but god , he really doesn’t want to move.

somehow finding it in himself to get up, he slips off his clothes and throws on a loose shirt and pair of shorts. he stares at his thin, lanky frame in the mirror, dissecting every little thing wrong with him. his limbs are so small, he looks malnourished. his skin is so pale that it makes him look sickly. his eye bags are heavy and there’s a permanent frown plastered on his face.

vincent sighs. he should just cover up that mirror of his, at this point. he’s never gonna look any better, not at this rate.

laying back on his bed, he tries to fight the way his eyes droop, the way his body relaxes. he keeps his eyes open, looking at the way the sun peeks through his curtains. it’s still daytime. he should find something else to do besides sleep.

he supposes he’ll go eat.

his mother greets him as he walks down the stairs.

“how was school, vincent?” she asks, looking completely disinterested. it’s as if she’s only asking out of formality.

“fine,” vincent replies, not bothering to elaborate. 

the conversation does not go any further than that.

vincent scoops a small amount of the stew his mother made into a bowl. it smells amazing. all the correct seasonings and ingredients blended into savory goodness. he knows that once he tastes it, he'll just be disappointed. 

he avoids eating the chunkier bits of the stew, as they usually make him sick to chew through, and instead drinks the broth and eats the smaller bits. when he’s sufficiently satisfied, he throws the rest away and washes his dish before heading back upstairs.

he sits on his bed and stares at his feet. he could do his homework, but he’d rather kill himself honestly. he has all the time in the world to do it in rody’s office anyway.

he doesn’t feel like doing anything, honestly.

he supposes he’ll do the same thing as yesterday. sleep until midnight and hope he can fall asleep again when he wakes up.

he closes his eyes, pulling his blankets over himself and trying to relax.

only to find it’s way harder than previously anticipated.

he sighs deeply as he turns to face the ceiling, staring up at it with tired eyes. he lets his mind drift, going from one thought to the next. he eventually winds up thinking about rody. 

vincent imagines he’s probably well built, he looks like it even over his button up shirt. his face is nicely proportioned, he’s much bigger and stronger than vincent, he could probably pick him up easily… manhandle him, perhaps.

his face burns. why is he thinking about rody like this? that’s— that’s his fucking counselor . he thought his dream last night was just random. there’s no way he’s actually attracted to him, right?

right…?

oh fuck . he totally is attracted to rody. like, terribly so.

oh god… he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to face rody tomorrow. he’s having thoughts about him he wouldn’t even reveal with a gun pressed to his head.

but they feel so nice to think about… rody pinning him down, taking him in his office. kissing him roughly, picking him up and holding him close. 

his lower half throbs with arousal. his hands move on their own.

they move down to pull off his shorts and boxers. he grabs his hard length in his nimble fingers, gasping softly at the freezing touch. he pumps it up and down slowly, breath hitching slightly as the slight pleasure. the tip leaks a small bead of precum, and he swipes his thumb over it. a sudden, sharp tingle of pleasure runs through him, causing him to gasp loudly and arch into his hand.

he pulls his shirt up slightly, holding it between his teeth and he strokes himself faster. the thoughts flood his mind once more. rody pulling his hair, fucking into him, stroking him at the same time. rody making him cum all over himself like a slut. rody folding him in half to fuck into him as deep as possible. 

he squeezes his eyes shut as he pants, bracing himself for his climax. it feels too good. this might be the best he’s ever felt while getting off, and it’s when he’s thinking about his school counselor, of all people…

he cums with that thought, smothering the soft moan that threatens to come out of his mouth with his hand. his warm cum splatters all over his pale stomach. his hips involuntary buck up into his own touch as he rides his high out.

he pries his hand away from his now sticky dick. he furrows his eyebrows at he looks down at himself, shame bubbling up inside his chest.

at least he didn’t get any on the bed.

Chapter Text

vincent’s head is pounding . 

what time is it? he has school today, right? shit, what if he’s late?

ugh, he really does not want to get up right now. he feels like if he moves an inch his head will explode. as he opens his eyes, the sunlight peeking into his room through his curtains sends a sharp pain through his head. he shuts his eyes, groaning as he covers his face.

after a moment of wallowing in his own misery, vincent sucks it up and takes a look at his clock. it reads 8:30. he really is late.

slowly sitting up not to suffer any more pain than he already is, he swings his legs over the side of his bed. as he stands up, a sudden spell of nausea and dizziness washes over him, causing him to grip the nearest thing to keep himself grounded. 

as the effects subside, he takes a look in the mirror. he looks pathetic, really. his eye bags are heavier than ever and he feels like he looks even more sickly and pale than usual.

he trudges tiredly to the bathroom, brushing his teeth before stripping to step into the shower. the water is freezing against his skin. he forces himself to endure it. 

the shower is brief. he rinses himself off after washing himself and doesn’t bother to wash his hair. he steps out, dripping water all over the floor as he dries himself with a towel. his head still hurts like all hell, but he thinks the shower soothed it slightly. he’ll take some paracetamol before leaving for school.

slipping on his white button up and and black pants, he fastens his tie and stares in the mirror once more. he still looks… quite dead, to be honest. but at least he looks cleaner than before. he lets out a breath, opening the medicine cabinet and grabbing the bottle of paracetamol. fishing two of the pills out, he rushes to the kitchen to get a cup of water to wash them down with.

his mother is in the kitchen, as usual. they do not look at each other as vincent passes by. he checks the time again. it’s 8:40. he has to leave now.

he does not bid his mother or father farewell when he slips out the door.

vincent hardly makes it to rody’s office.

“good morning, vincent.” rody gives him a soft smile as he looks at him. “you’re late… it’s 9 and you’ve just gotten here.” he clasps his hands in front of him, watching as vincent takes his seat in his designated spot and immediately buries his head into his arms on the desk.

“you can’t just sleep all day. you know that, right?”

vincent grinds his teeth. “yeah, well. my head feels like it's going to explode, i just…” he trails off, thoughts going blank. he groans instead of continuing, the thought of having to form words far too difficult.

“you just what?” rody cocks an eyebrow at him. when vincent doesn’t reply, he leans slightly closer. “are you alright?” vincent growls. his head hurts so much he feels like he might die. 

something is definitely wrong

“s… shut up… i need peace and quiet… right now,” vincent slurs. upon hearing his small, garbled voice, rody shoots up from his chair to rush to vincent’s side.

“vincent, what’s wrong?” rody places a hand on vincent’s back, rubbing it slowly, soothingly. vincent hates how much he enjoys it. he shoves rody’s hand away, looking at him with half-lidded eyes. “did they hit you in the head yesterday?”

“i… i hit my head on the wall,” vincent huffs. “it’s fine, it’s fine. it doesn’t hurt that bad…” he lies. it clearly does little to calm rody’s worries, because rody does not stop coddling him. 

“it’s not fine, you might have a concussion or worse. you need to go to the hospital.” rody moves to his desk, picking up the landline phone and glancing back at vincent. “what’s your home phone number?”

vincent looks at him like he’s insane. “what— no, don't call my parents—!” he protests. “i’m not going to the hospital. it’s fine, i’ll be fine…” he holds his head in his hands. “just… leave me alone…”

putting down the handset, rody looks dumbfounded. he sighs in defeat, returning to his desk chair and plopping down on it. “okay… rest for now, then.”

vincent groans as his head throbs, slumping back down onto his desk.

unable to focus on his work due to his raging headache, vincent finds himself staring at mr. lamoree throughout the day.

he lifts his head only slightly to take a peek, before putting it down just to lift it back up again. he can’t stop thinking about what he did last night. he doesn’t know how he’s not burning up just looking at rody.

then, rody looks back at him. 

“are you okay, vincent?” he asks innocently. vincent’s face turns beet red. he averts his eyes, almost at a loss for words. 

“ah— um… yes, sorry,” he mumbles, twiddling his thumbs timidly. rody seems satisfied with his answer, and goes back to focusing on his paper work. vincent sighs in relief.

he really doesn’t want to have to talk to him any more today. or ever, honestly. the thought of having to speak to him and try to act like he didn’t literally touch himself to the thought of him last night is far too much. he presses his legs together uncomfortably. how could he not do that though? he’s very attractive… looks fairly built and like he could probably lift vincent like a feather. vincent chews on his lip at the thought of being manhandled by him, the space between his legs suddenly feeling much tighter and cramped. he takes a look down only to see that he’s now painfully hard.

oh, fuck . really? here of all places?

he tries to think of literally anything else. family members, or those kids who beat him up in the bathroom. but nothing seems to make his hard-on go away. his thoughts always trail back to mr. lamoree. he rubs his legs together to try and bring himself some relief, and sighs softly at the somewhat gratifying sensation. unfortunately for him, it does nothing to make his boner go away. it only makes it worse.

vincent has always been a slave to his desires. once he has a hunger for something, he always finds himself needing to indulge in it. today is no different. 

vincent slowly stands up, clasping his hands in front of his crotch inconspicuously to hopefully hide the painfully obvious erection he has. making his way to the door, he hears a voice speaking to him.

“where are you going, vincent?” rody perks up. vincent chews at his cheek. he doubts he can get a word out without stuttering or slurring.

“uh— bathroom…” he mumbles stupidly. 

thankfully, rody nods, and he quickly rushes off to the nearest bathroom.

the walk to the bathroom is tense and awkward. thankfully, when vincent gets there, it’s empty. 

vincent quietly slips into one of the stalls and locks the door behind him. at first, he tries to wait out the sudden spell of arousal. he leans on the wall, waiting silently for his dick to soften. waiting his imagination to calm down. unfortunately, waiting only seems to make him more desperate to get off.

but he can’t do this here— definitely not… if someone caught him, not only would he be in huge trouble, but he’d be embarrassed out of his mind. he would not be able to live with that.

with that last thought, his hand moves down to palm himself through his pants.

he gasps at the sudden feeling of pressure against his hard cock. his hips instinctively buck forward into the pleasure. he rubs himself through his pants thoroughly, bringing up a hand to cover his mouth as he lets out soft pants. it feels good, but it’s not enough… he wants more.

he quietly unzips his pants, pulling himself out of his boxers and shivering at the feeling of his dick exposed to the cold air. slowly wrapping his slim fingers around the shaft, he begins to pump up and down, breath hitching each time his fingers brush against his tip. his eyes narrow as he tries to hold back his noises.

he can’t believe he’s doing this. what if someone walks in? what then? then he would really have to be careful. he feel a noise stuck in the back of his throat, and he swallows it down before it can come out. 

he hears the door open and stills completely.

a group of boys walk into the bathroom, mindlessly chattering about things vincent doesn’t care about. vincent hardly pays attention to them, too focused on not getting caught masturbating in the stall. 

the boys crack jokes and laugh at each other. though vincent doesn’t know what they’re speaking about, he wonders what it’s like to have a group of friends like that. must be nice.

the sound of running water echoes throughout the bathroom. then, the door opens and the sound of them talking slowly recedes into nothing, and vincent is alone once more.

he’s still achingly hard, unfortunately.

he makes quick work of wringing an orgasm out of himself. thinking of mr. lamoree touching him instead of it just being himself. thinking of the counselor groping him all over, whispering sweet words into his ear. he strokes himself fast and hard, drawing small whines and gasps from his mouth. he feels a climax stirring up in his stomach. the feeling in his stomach slowly gets tighter and tighter, until he can no longer hold back. he lets out a loud gasp, slapping a hand over his mouth to quiet himself as he releases and aiming it into the toilet so there’s no mess to clean.

his limbs feel like jelly once the high washes over him completely. he’s red and hot and sweaty, panting hard as he looks at the outcome of his little deed.

god, he’s so shameful.

he watches the leftover cum on his hand drip down into the toilet, looking away. he doesn’t want to see the aftermath of what he’s done. it’s humiliating.

messily putting himself back into his underwear and zipping up his pants with one hand, he turns on the tap and begins to wash his hands. taking a look at himself in the mirror, he looks… horrendous. eyes half-lidded, face red, sweat dripping down his forehead. he quickly looks away from that too. he should probably splash some water on his face to wake himself up and cool down. he definitely needs it.

when vincent gets back to rody’s office, it’s easily been about 15 minutes.

“you sure took a while,” rody says, raising an eyebrow and crossing his arms. “what exactly were you doing in there?” he rests a hand on his chin as he leans against his desk.

“ah— um…” vincent stutters, “i just wasn’t feeling well. i’m sorry.” the apology is more for what he actually did than for what he’s saying he did. he almost can’t face the man after that.

rody takes note of how terrible vincent looks. panting, red and sweaty. hair sticking to his forehead. “…why do you look like that?” 

vincent’s eyes widen as he almost stops in his tracks. “l—like what…?”

“like you just ran a marathon.”

vincent bites his lip. he needs to come up with something, fast . 

“it’s um, really hot. in the bathroom,” he lies.

fortunately, rody seems to accept the answer. he nearly sighs in relief when rody nods and lets out a hum of a confirmation. “alright, sit down and do your work. it seems like you’re feeling a little better, so you should be able to focus now.”

vincent wants to groan in annoyance. he’d rather die than do that. unfortunately, there’s nothing in this room he could effectively use to kill himself.

he lets out a breath. he supposes there’s nothing else to do than actually do his work.

vincent impatiently glances at the clock, over and over. it feels like time is going so slow . he swear he’s been looking at the time for the past few minutes, but only one minute has gone by. he taps his fingers on the desk, chewing on his cheek. it’s almost time to go at least.

he hears rody chuckle. is he laughing at him ?

“impatient, huh?” rody glances at him. “calm down, five more minutes and then you can leave.” he begins to clean his desk— not really clean, as per usual. just shoving papers into drawers. vincent wonders how he ever finds anything.

“…mm,” vincent hums. 

rody packs some of the things on his desk into his bag. “do you need me to drive you home again? i’d hate to have you walk all the way home with that concussion you probably have,” he says, a pitying look on his face. just because of that, vincent almost wants to say no, but for some reason—

“that’d be nice, if you don’t mind…”

rody smiles. “of course i don’t mind! as long as you get home safely, that’s all that matters to me.” his voice is cheerful, and his smile is so contagious it makes vincent’s lips twitch with the urge to do the same.

“thank you, mister— i mean, rody.”

rody continues to tidy until he deems his desk sufficiently clean. the five minutes pass by quicker than usual as vincent watches him. their eyes meet.

“why are you staring at me? go on, pack your things. we have to go now, silly.”

vincent looks at him cluelessly for a moment, before letting out a small noise of realization and turning away to pack up. his face turns red at his own stupidity. he hears rody let out a hearty laugh, which does nothing to help with his embarrassment.

once vincent finishes packing up, rody is waiting at the door for him. vincent slings one of the straps of his backpack over his shoulder and follows him out of the room to his car, just as he did yesterday. 

the walk to the car is mostly silent, aside from rody asking a few random questions such as, “what did you have to do on that worksheet today?” or “how are you feeling now?”

when they get to the car, rody speaks to him once more. 

“aren’t you hungry?”

vincent looks at him, confused once more. “huh…?

rody tilts his head like a dog. “i didn’t see you eat anything today! it’s no wonder you’re so thin, you must hardly eat! your parents are feeding you, right?” he looks at vincent worriedly. vincent leans back into the car seat to put some space between them as rody gets closer to him.

“uh, yeah… of course they feed me.”

“i’ll take you to some place to eat. where do you want to go?” 

vincent puts up his hands, waving them defensively. “you don’t have to do that— i’m okay, i’m not hungry.” he shivers at the thought of having to eat right now.

“nonsense!” rody exclaims. “you must be, you haven’t eaten all day. hey, there’s this diner nearby that i love to go to. how about we go there? the foods really good!”

“i—i don’t have any money though—“

“that’s fine! i got it covered!”

before vincent can refuse or protest, rody’s already begun to drive. 

vincent sighs. he just wants to go home.

the diner isn’t very far. it takes around 5 minutes to get there. 

rody excitedly drags vincent out of the car by the hand and they enter the diner. when rody opens the door, vincent can hear a bell ring above them. a middle aged woman behind the counter stills before looking in rody’s direction and waving with a smile on her face upon realizing who is at the door.

“well if it isn’t my dear rody!” she beams. “it’s been so long since i’ve seen you! where have you been?” 

rody chuckles, waving back. “oh, you know, just swamped with work duties… the usual, haha!” he lets go of vincent’s hand, suddenly realizing he was still holding it. 

vincent finds himself missing the touch, for some odd reason.

“it’s lovely to see you again, charlotte.” rody gives her a smile that’s a little too joyous, and vincent feels an unfamiliar feeling bubble up in his chest. it makes his face burn and his eyebrows furrow. he does not want to see him smile at her like that. not at all.

the woman, who vincent now assumes is named charlotte, beckons them over with a hand, leading them to a nearby table to seat them. “it’s lovely to see you too, rody! and who’s this little guy?” she gestures to vincent, and he clenches his jaw tightly. he never liked being in the spotlight.

“oh, this is one of the student’s from my job! he needed a ride home, but he needed something to eat too, so i brought him here.” rody turns his head to vincent, giving him a soft smile. vincent can tell he wants him to say hi to the lady.

“ah— um… hello, ma’am,” he mumbles pathetically, voice nearly breaking off.

“oh, aren’t you sweet, rody! always looking out for others…” she lets out a soft giggle. “now, what can i get for your guys? or do you need some time to look through our menu?”

vincent didn’t really think this through, though luckily rody seems to know exactly what he wants.

“i’ll have my usual. vincent, what would you like?”

“…soup, i guess.”

rody gives him an awkward grin, placing a hand on his back. “alright, what kind?”

“…whatever’s fine.”

rody seems confused, but nonetheless turns back to charlotte and clasps his hands on the table. “how about you surprise us, charlotte? as long as it’s soup. i know you have a few options,” he says cheerfully. charlotte briefly writes that down on her little notepad, before nodding. 

“i’ll get that right to you guys! and for drinks?”

“a coke for me, please.”

vincent chews on his lip. “just water.”

charlotte nods. “alright! just sit tight for a moment, i’ll be back with your food shortly,” she says happily before walking off to give the order ticket to the chef.

as soon as she’s gone, rody turns to vincent once again. “you okay? not really fond of new people, huh?” he asks, resting his jaw on his hand.

“you could say that.”

rody chuckles uncomfortably, expression suddenly turning more serious. “vincent, you’ve been on edge all day. what’s up?”

vincent side eyes him. “i’m not on edge.”

“i’m not blind or deaf, vincent,” rody sighs. “i can tell something’s bothering you. what is it?”

when vincent doesn’t reply, rody decides he needs to pry it out of him.

“is it the rumors?”

vincent freezes. his eyes meet rody’s, wide and panicked. “what— what rumors?” he questions, though he knows exactly what rody’s talking about.

“the rumors about you that are going around the school. well, you and me , to be precise.”

vincent stays silent. he doesn’t do so much as move an inch. so of course, rody decides to keep running his mouth.

“is that why they beat you up yesterday?” 

vincent growls, putting his head down and digging his fingers into his hair. “why does it matter to you so much,” vincent mutters.

“because i care for you! i know you’re just a student that i have to deal with, but i still care for you a lot!”

“…you’re too emotionally involved.”

“that just makes me a better counselor! it means i can understand you better.”

vincent decides to ignore how untrue that is. “i’m not gay, by the way. i don’t know where they got that from.” he whispers.

rody laughs far too loudly. “vincent, i wouldn’t care even if you were. not that i swing that way or anything, but i believe everyone should be able to love whoever they wish to.” 

for some reason, vincent’s heart feels tight at those words. he’s glad rody is accepting, but… 

…what is he thinking? he can’t be with his school counselor even if he wanted to be. which he doesn’t. he just has some silly little fantasies about him. it’s no different than a boy fantasizing about his female teacher. it’s normal.

“…okay.”

suddenly, charlotte appears with their drinks, setting them down on the table with a soft clink. she seems to have realized she’s come at a bad time, since she just chuckles nervously before shuffling away.

rody takes a sip of his soda. “so, are you?”

vincent looks at him, a puzzled look on his face.“…why do you need to know anyway?”

“just curious! for all i know, you could have been lying the first time.”

vincent inhales sharply. is he really going to tell his school counselor that he’s gay? is that really the right move to make?

probably not, but he does it anyway.

he nods. “…i—i am.”

he doesn’t know why, but rody smiles brightly at his answer. “i’m really glad you feel comfortable enough to share this with me, vincent. you’re making a lot of progress with opening up!” he chimes. “i’m proud of you.”

vincent feels his eyes burn at those words. his throat tightens and his heart pounds. oh god , he might cry again. he has nowhere to run this time. he thinks he might kill himself if he actually starts crying in front of rody. 

after a couple beats of silence, he swallows the lump in his throat and speaks.

“th—thanks,” he stutters gracefully.

“you okay?” rody raises an eyebrow as he watches vincent’s turn his head away to stare out of the window. “your head still hurting?”

“not really,” vincent mumbles, refusing to look back at rody in fear that he’ll see his glassy eyes and trembling lips.

“that’s good!” rody says far too cheerfully, patting vincent on the back a little too hard. the boy flinches slightly, startled at the sudden feeling.

vincent can hear the faint clicking of heels approaching, then feels a vibration on the table along with the soft noise of plates being set down. rody quietly thanks charlotte, and when she speaks, he can hear the smile in her voice.

“let me know if you guys need anything. enjoy your food!” she says, scurrying off with a wave to go fetch food for the other tables.

rody gently pushes vincent’s bowl of soup over to him. of course, vincent recognizes it rather quickly. potage aux légumes. it’s thick, smooth, creamy, and has a delightful aroma. though the smell makes his mouth water, he knows once it hits his tongue he won’t be able to taste anything.

vincent pokes and stirs the soup awkwardly. he doesn’t exactly feel very hungry. meanwhile, rody has already begun to dig into his food. vincent wants to vomit just looking at the burger he’d ordered.

“why aren’t you eating?” rody mumbles, mouth full. vincent has to surprise the urge to chuckle at him.

“…it’s not polite to talk with your mouth full,” vincent sneers, “i’m just not that hungry.”

rody covers his mouth, though he doesn’t seem to be embarrassed in the slightest. he finishes chewing his food before speaking again. “you really need to eat though! you’re all skin and bones.”

with a sigh, vincent picks up his spoon once again and dips it into the soup, bringing it up to his mouth to eat it.

as expected, it tastes like nothing.  

nevertheless, he powers through, trying to at least take a few more bites to satisfy rody. rody gives him a boyish smile, continuing to scarf down his own food. rody eats rather fast, vincent notices, as he’s eaten nearly half of it already. it’s not exactly small either. vincent wonders how rody isn’t more out of shape.

in no time, rody has already finished his burger. he sips the lasts of his drink, making an irritatingly loud slurping sound. vincent, on the other hand, has finished around half of his soup. he already feels more than full, so he pushes away the small bowl and takes a sip of water.

“…are you done?” rody raises an eyebrow, staring at vincent’s half-finished bowl of soup and then glancing at him.

“mhm,” vincent hums, grabbing a paper towel and gently wiping his mouth.

rody blinks, almost in disbelief. “vincent, you hardly even ate half of it! are you seriously full?” he exclaims worriedly.

vincent nods his head slowly. “i’ll probably throw up if i eat any more.”

rody finally looks away, mouth slightly agape. “god,” he exhales, “i get you’re small, but surely you can eat more than that…” he waves at charlotte, who is cleaning up another table. she quickly stumbles over to them.

“you guys all finished? i’ll get the check for you!” she gives a toothy smile. rody smiles back at her. vincent presses his lips together uncomfortably.

“thank you, charlotte. the food was delicious as always.” rody says sweetly. charlotte nods and rushes off for a moment to get the check. “did you at least like the food, vincent?”

vincent blinks, suddenly startled out of his trance. “huh? oh,” he stutters. “…yes, it was good.”

rody looks pleased, seemingly unable to see through vincent’s lie. at that time, charlotte returns to the table with the bill, placing down the small piece of paper. rody pulls out his wallet, and after seeing the amount he needed to pay, fishes out an appropriate amount of cash. she grins, thanking them before waving goodbye and leaving them to it.

“okay, it’s getting a little late, isn’t it?” rody says, though it’s definitely not very late at all. “let’s get you home.”

vincent nods silently, following rody to his car once more.

the car ride is rather silent, aside from the quiet music from the radio. vincent finds himself rather tired, leaning against the car door and letting his eyes fall closed.

and suddenly, vincent wonders how long he can keep this up.

he wonders how long it’ll be before he grows too tired to continue with his life. how long it’ll be before everything becomes too much, too hard to do.

he wonders who will miss him when he’s gone. his parents don’t seem to care much about him. he doesn’t have any friends, or any other family he’s close to. and it’s not like anybody at school besides would notice if he suddenly stopped attending altogether. they might just think he’s skipping again, or that he switched schools.

vincent cracks his eyes open. rody is focused on the road. he hasn’t yet noticed vincent being half asleep in the passenger seat.

would rody miss him? would rody notice if he were to disappear?

surely he would notice, right? they’ve become a little too close for comfort these past few days. but would he really care?

why does vincent care so much, anyway?

he lets his eyes fall closed once again, only to be rudely interrupted after a couple minutes. 

“hey, wake up sleepyhead! you have to go.”

vincent rubs his eyes, looking at rody tiredly, then averting his eyes to his house. “oh…”

rody frowns at the reaction. usually most kids are happy to be home after a long day at school, but vincent seems less than thrilled. “are you okay?” he asks. he asks in such a tone that has vincent genuinely wondering, is he okay?

“…what?” vincent says stupidly.

“you seem upset.”

“oh.”

vincent fumbles with the fabric of his pants, making no move to leave the vehicle.

“it gets lonely, doesn’t it?” rody gives him a look of pity.

“what do you mean?” vincent questions.

rody looks away, averting his eyes to the road in front of him. “i mean, you don’t have any friends. i doubt you talk to your parents much, and when you do i doubt you have meaningful conversations. even when you go to school, you have nobody to talk to besides me.” he chuckles, though nothing's funny. “and when you can go back to your normal classes, you’ll have nobody to talk to all over again. it must be really lonely.”

“i guess, yeah.”

“i get how it feels. since my wife left me, i…” he breaks off for a moment, clearly holding back too many emotions. “i haven’t really had anyone to talk to either. i talk to people at work, yeah but…” he chuckles, “i don’t think anybody there actually likes me, y'know?”

vincent doesn’t know what to say, so he stays quiet.

suddenly, rody rifles through the center console storage compartment, seemingly looking for something. he finds a crumpled piece of paper from who knows what, and a pen, before scribbling something down on it and handing it to vincent.

“what’s this…?”

“uh, my phone number.” rody laughs awkwardly. “it’s probably really stupid and unprofessional of me, but… if you need someone to talk to, you can call me anytime.”

vincent stares at the paper for an uncomfortably long time, before snatching it quickly. it startles rody, clearly, and vincent feels slightly embarrassed as he reads the number written down.

“…thank you,” vincent mumbles, looking back up at rody with a soft smile tugging at his lips. “i’ll keep it in mind.”

rody nods. there’s a moment of silence between them. 

“well, um… you should really get home, yeah? your parents are probably getting worried.” 

vincent lets out a soft breath and nods, though he knows his parents probably haven't even noticed he hasn't gotten home. “ah… right.” he opens the car door, preparing to leave the vehicle. “um, thank you… for the meal, i mean.”

rody grins brightly. “of course! anytime, really.”

vincent stands up and gets out of the car, closing the door behind him. he waves goodbye to rody, who does the same. then, he finally skips off back home. 

vincent clutches the paper tightly in his hands as he hears rody drive off behind him. he never thought the first number he’d ever get from someone would be from his school counselor. he supposes he’s not upset, just surprised.

vincent’s mother opens the front door, a cigarette in hand, though it’s not yet lit. she stares blankly at vincent for a moment before moving to sit in one of the chairs they have in their patio.

“welcome home, vincent,” she says, voice sounding as bored as ever. 

“hello, mother.” vincent watches as she lights her cigarette, watching the billowing smoke move in the slight wind. he thinks he should try it himself, one day. it seems to be the only reason his mother hasn’t went crazy. maybe it would calm him down too.

“why are you home so late today?” she cocks an eyebrow, crossing her arms as she watches vincent try to find an answer.

“i— um, i just had some extra work to do after school today.” he’s lying. she knows he’s lying. thankfully, she doesn’t seem to care about actually finding out the truth.

“mm. there’s food on the stove, if you’re hungry.”

vincent nods, though he’s honestly the exact opposite of hungry right now with the food he just ate.

“thank you, mother,” he mumbles, before entering his house. there’s a fragrant smell of food in the air, and it makes vincent slightly queasy.

he shuffles up to his room, nearly slamming his door behind him and flopping onto his bed.

rody was right. he really is lonely. he can’t believe he’s only just realized how pathetic and isolated he is. no friends, no real family who cares about him. the only people he’s really talked to in the past few months are his parents and rody.

he almost wants to laugh at how sad it is. he wonders if he’ll be like this forever.

he stares at the telephone placed on his desk. he can’t remember the last time he used it. it probably has a thick layer of dust on it now.

…maybe he will call rody later. 

Chapter Text

it’s almost as if the phone is staring right back at vincent when he looks at it.

even when he isn’t, he feels a pair of eyes that aren’t even there boring into him. everything in vincent is telling him to call rody.

vincent doesn’t think he can hold out any longer. it’s been eating at him for the past couple days. he needs to. all that time sitting in rody’s office, sneaking glances at him, or alone in his room, clutching that piece of paper. he’s been doing everything he can to distract himself—he even picked up that god awful habit of smoking his mother has—just to avoid submitting to his urges. it’s made a mess out of him.

the worst part is, tomorrow is the last day that he has to spend in rody’s office, and he’s upset about it. every time he thinks about having to go back to his regular classes, sitting in his desk chair or skipping in the bathroom, his heart pangs with a feeling he can’t describe.

he doesn’t want to. he really doesn’t want to.

maybe he should talk to rody about it. but, fuck—rody knows he’s gay now. he’s going to think vincent wants to fuck him, which he totally does, and he’s sure he’s not amazing at hiding it.

maybe it’s not even that. maybe he just doesn’t want to be picked on all day by his classmates because of those rumors going around. surely he wouldn’t have this much of a reaction just because he finds rody a little attractive.

vincent pulls his duvet up to his head, covering himself completely and shielding himself from the cold air in his room. he curls up underneath the covers, hugging a pillow close to his chest. what would he even say if he called him? not to mention, it’s nearly 10 at night. rody is probably sleeping, or at least getting ready to be.

fuck it. he doesn’t need to know what to say. it doesn’t matter if rody is asleep. he can take a chance.

scrambling out of his bed, he rushes to his desk and rummages through his drawer to find that little piece of paper. nearly missing his chair when he sits down, he picks up the handset and begins to frantically dial the number. 

and as it begins to ring, he panics internally. his heart rate spikes and he nearly puts the phone back down. 

then he hears him.

“hello?” rody speaks with a groggy voice, as if he’s just about to sleep. oh god—vincent must be disturbing him. he wants to slam his head into the desk.

the static is deafening as vincent tries to speak. his mouth opens, but nothing comes out. 

“hello…?” rody tries again. 

vincent swallows nervously. “um,” he starts, “sorry, mr—i mean, rody. i didn’t mean to disturb you.” he licks his lips, his mouth becoming dry.

“vincent?” rody seems to come to his senses, voice becoming clearer and slightly less raspy, almost alarmed. “shouldn’t you be asleep? are you okay?” 

vincent can hear a shifting noise from the other end, then a soft creak, as if rody’s sat up. an image of rody, ready for bed, wearing a wifebeater—or better yet, shirtless—and a loose pair of flannel pants, pops up in his mind. vincent’s face burns at the thought of him, back pressed up against the headboard of his bed, phone against his ear as he speaks to him.

he presses his lips into a thin line, unsure of how to respond without sounding like a mess. he didn’t really have much of a reason for calling, other than simply being lonely. “ah… um…” he clears his throat. “y—you’re right. i should be asleep. sorry, bye—” 

rody quickly cuts him off before he hangs up. “no, no. vincent, there’s no need for that.” he props his pillow up. “if you need someone to talk to, like i said, i’m always here. even if it is a bit late at night.” he swallows silently, letting out a soft breath. he doesn’t know what he’s feeling.

vincent mumbles something incoherent in response, unable to find a good answer. he almost tries to stall, to see how long he can stay on the phone and in his company before rody inevitably gets sick of hearing nothing from him.

“what was that?”

vincent bites his lip and stays quiet.

“okay, well… would you like to tell me what’s wrong?” rody says.

he hears a confused hum come from the other side of the line. “huh?”

“you called me for a reason, right?”

“oh…” vincent’s voice trails off. “i guess.”

rody furrows his eyebrows. “well, what is it? did something happen?”

“i’m—i’m okay. i just wanted company. i’m sorry for bothering you so late about something so small.” vincent half-lies.

“you don’t sound okay. you don’t have to lie to me. you know that, right?” rody sighs. 

vincent stays quiet. 

“vincent… if you’re not going to talk to me, why did you call?”

something about that—something about that sentence sends rage bubbling up in vincent’s throat, ready to spill out and spew terrible things all over rody.

“i—its not— i just—” vincent stutters. “if you wanted to hang up, you could have just said so.” he clenches his jaw.

rody sighs. “that’s not what i was saying, vincent—”

“if you’re busy or something, you can just go,” vincent spits, though he knows he wants more than just rody’s company.

“vincent. i’m not busy, it’s just late,” rody says, sounding exasperated.

vincent bites his lip once again, this time to stop himself from saying any more stupid shit. when he speaks again, his voice cracks. “s—sorry.”

“it’s alright, really. what’s wrong, vincent?”

vincent takes a breath. “i don’t really want to go back to my normal classes.” it almost sounds like a whine. he must sound so silly right now.

“i see. why’s that?” 

“i’m going to be picked on, with all the rumors going around. they won’t leave me alone once i’m back.” 

rody hums. “well, why not tell a teacher when they pick on you?” he says, like it’s the most obvious solution in the world. did this man ever really go to high school? or perhaps he was one of the popular kids that never got picked on.

“that doesn’t work. most of the time they don’t even care. and when they do, it just gets even worse. god, did you not learn that from being in high school yourself?” vincent scoffs.

“ah… well. i wasn’t picked on very often, so…”

“of course you weren’t.”

rody scratches the back of his head awkwardly. “if you’d like, you can come to my office during lunch and after school. i know it’s not much… but just so you can get away from them for a little while. you can talk to me about them too, you know. to de-stress a little.”

vincent perks up. this man is too nice for his own good.

“okay… yeah, um—that works. thank you.”

rody smiles, and vincent can hear it in his voice. “of course! i hope that puts you a little more at ease.”

vincent nods, before realizing rody can’t actually see him, then hums in confirmation. “y—yeah. it… it did.”

“i’m glad.” rody sighs. “now then, it’s getting late. you should be going to sleep.” he yawns. “as should i… goodnight, vincent. sleep well. i’ll see you tomorrow.”

“ah—goodnight. see you tomorrow, rody.”

rody hangs up, and the dial tone is loud in vincent’s ear.

as vincent places the phone down, he feels a certain sense of giddiness rise up in his chest. he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to sleep now, as he’s far too happy. he must seem like a teenage girl after talking to her crush.

though, he supposes that’s not so far from what he is.

when vincent walks into rody’s office, the counselor greets him with a smile, as always.

“good morning, vincent!” rody leans back in his chair. “how did you sleep last night?” he asks, as if that’s a totally normal question for a counselor to ask a student.

“ah…” vincent swallows nervously. “i slept okay,” he replies simply, leaving out the part where he stayed up, tossing and turning in his bed, unable to stop thinking about rody. he slumps down in his seat. his head feels a little fuzzy, probably from the cigarette he smoked on the way to school. he hopes nobody can smell it on him.

and it’s like rody can read his mind, because not even five minutes after that thought, rody speaks.

“hey, vincent…” he starts, “have you been smoking cigarettes?”

vincent tries not to make the way he perks up obvious, but unfortunately he’s sure rody can see right through him. “what do you mean,” he says blankly, looking at rody through his eyelashes.

rody stares at him for a moment too long, as if in a trance, before responding. “you—um, you smell like cigarettes. like, strongly of cigarettes. you have for a couple days.”

vincent’s breath gets caught in his throat. obviously, he can’t tell rody he’s been smoking cigarettes just to distract himself from the thought of him. he can’t tell rody he’s smoking cigarettes period. so, he has to come up with something quick.

vincent is going crazy. he can’t get that man out of his head. it’s as if every single waking moment he’s thinking about him—god, even when he’s sleeping, he dreams about him. it’s not like he has anybody to talk to, either. unless he wants to call rody. which he doesn’t, at least not right now.

maybe he should just… go for a walk. a walk couldn’t hurt. it’ll help him clear his head. not to mention, it’s nice and cool out tonight.

after scrambling to put his shoes and jacket on, he tiptoes downstairs to leave the house. there’s a park nearby he can go to. he’ll probably just sit at one of the benches there until he feels better. as he’s going to open the front door, he catches a glimpse of his mother's purse. 

an idea strikes. 

she won’t notice if a couple of her cigarettes are gone, right? surely not.

he looks around, making sure his parents haven’t woken up, before stealing the cigarettes and lighter from his mother’s purse and fleeing the scene.

he decides to light one up when he gets to the park. fishing the box of cigarettes out of his pocket, along with the lighter, he pulls one out and props it up between his lips as he’s seen his mother do a million times. he flicks on the lighter, touches the flame to the tip of the cigarette, and inhales deeply.

nearly spitting out the cigarette, he’s sent into a coughing fit, his throat burning. he takes the cigarette between two of his fingers, covering his mouth as he coughs. god, that feels terrible. he doesn’t understand why people even enjoy this.

that is, until he feels a wave of something wash over him. it almost makes him feel dizzy. eventually, his coughing fit fades into nothing, and he’s left panting trying to make up for the air he lost. there’s a slight buzzing feeling in his head. it’s actually rather pleasant.

…he thinks he’ll keep doing this.

vincent blinks. “my mom smokes inside the house sometimes,” he says, not thinking twice. technically, it’s not a complete lie. she just doesn’t do it enough for it to make him actually smell like cigarettes.

rody raises an eyebrow, unconvinced. “and why hadn’t i smelled it on you until a couple days ago?”

vincent chews on his cheek. “she didn’t do it very often before. i guess stress from work is getting to her.”

rody seems to relax slightly, nodding softly. “if you say so.”

vincent lets out the breath he was holding as silently as possible.

rody checks his watch, tapping his foot against the ground. it’s been nearly 20 minutes since vincent left to go use the bathroom. sure, he knows vincent likes to hide out in there, but what could he be doing for 20 minutes? what if something happened to him?

maybe rody should go check on him. it couldn’t hurt.

he leaves his office and speed-walks to the closest bathroom. when he’s within earshot, he hears a yell. oh… shit. it prompts him to walk even faster.

“get—get the hell off me!” rody knows that voice. it’s vincent’s. though he can’t say he’s ever heard him yell so loud before. “give that back!”

“what’s this?” it’s a voice rody can’t recognize.

a different voice chimes in. “oh, i see. you’re trying to act all grown up so your old fag boyfriend feels less like a pedo when he fucks you, huh?” 

when rody turns the corner, he witnesses a scene he may never forget.

vincent is pinned against the wall next to the entrance of the bathroom, his arms above his head and held together. at first, rody can only see a small sliver of his tummy underneath his shirt. but then, the boy in front of him lifts it just enough to see his navel clearly. for a moment, rody is so mesmerized by how vincent looks that he doesn’t even realize what they’re about to do to him. the boy in front of vincent holds something small and long in his fingers, and before rody knows it, he’s pressing it right above vincent’s belly button. vincent hisses in pain, biting his lip hard to stop himself from making any more noise.

oh my god, rody thinks. they’re putting out a cigarette on his skin.

honestly, rody can’t even get himself to be mad that vincent is smoking cigarettes right now. this poor boy is getting one put out on his stomach, so it’s kind of understandable.

after a moment, they drop vincent, and he falls to his knees. their laughter is loud and cruel, and it makes rody sick when he hears it. when one of them violently kicks vincent in the stomach, rody cannot bear to watch anymore.

“hey! that’s enough!” rody yells, sprinting toward them.

“shit, speak of the devil,” one of them mutters quietly. upon realizing he’s there, the boys immediately scatter, running off to avoid the consequences. rody would chase after them, but he needs to focus on vincent right now. he’ll find them later. he’ll make sure they get punished.

vincent clutches his stomach in pain, panting hard. rody kneels down to him, putting a hand on his back. “vincent, are you okay?”

“f—fuck, i’m fine—” he coughs, covering his mouth with his arm as he does. “why are you even here? were you looking for me?”

rody scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. “ah, um—yeah. you were gone for a really long time. i was getting worried.” he looks vincent up and down. “…and i guess now i know why.”

vincent huffs quietly, still trying to catch his breath. he says nothing, only lifting up his shirt to get a look at the burn mark on his stomach. it looks pretty gnarly, angry and red with ash smeared on it. rody can’t help but look at the pale, unblemished skin around it. it looks soft, like clouds. a part of him wants to reach out and touch it.

“i… i’ll need to get you some ice for that, huh?”

vincent furrows his eyebrows. “don’t worry about it. i’ll just clean it. don’t need any ice,” he says coldly.

vincent slowly gets up, making a face of discomfort as he stands.

“do you need me to help you…?” rody asks stupidly.

“i don’t need your help, or pity for that matter.” vincent says, face slightly red. he must be embarrassed. “how long were you watching? how much did you hear?”

rody’s eyes dart to the side. “enough to know that cigarette was definitely yours…” 

vincent groans and rushes into the bathroom. rody follows him unthinkingly.

“and now what? you’re going to call my parents and tell them? not like they’ll care.” 

rody crosses his arms. “i won’t call them, vincent. i won’t tell anyone. just try to break that habit before it gets too bad,” he explains. “i’d really hate for you to get in more trouble.”

“oh.”

vincent takes a couple paper towels and soaks them in a bit of water from the sink, using them to wipe the ash away from his burn. he furrows his eyebrows in pain. 

rody makes a face at the sight of the burn. “are you sure you don't want anything for that? doesn’t it hurt?” he leans in closer, to which vincent inches away and pulls his shirt back down.

“of course it hurts. but it's fine, it's not that bad.” vincent throws the soaked paper towels away, then turns back to rody. “don’t worry about me.”

“okay, but make sure to put some ointment on it when you get home, yeah?”

“okay, yeah. what time is it?”

rody checks his watch. “ah… just about time to leave. i can drive you home again, if you need.”

vincent clenches his jaw. he doesn’t want anyone to see him with rody. he’s going to get spotted eventually, and then the rumors will get a lot worse. he doesnt want to ruin rody’s reputation alongside his.

but on the other hand… he really doesn’t feel like walking home. and he doesn’t want to miss out on this if it’ll be the last time rody can drive him home. he doesn't know how often he'll be able to see him after today.

“you can if you want. i don't care,” he says, though he totally does care, and he's terrible at hiding it.

“okay, i’ll drive you home then!”

a smile tugs at the corners of vincent’s lips at his answer, but he forces it down.

the whole walk to the car, vincent looks around cautiously, praying nobody’s around to see them.

“so,” rody starts awkwardly, “do you perhaps know the names of any of those guys? so i can… you know, punish them accordingly.” he pushes the key into the ignition and starts the car, looking over at vincent as he does.

“nope,” vincent says simply. “i don’t even know if they’re in my classes. i mean… it’s not like i really go to them, so…” he fiddles with his shirt collar. “plus, they’ll probably just do worse to me if i tell you their names.”

rody hums softly in acknowledgment. “i see. are you hungry or anything? i can take you out to eat again, if you’d like.”

vincent considers it. it’s not like he really wants to go home anyway. but after being kicked in the stomach so harshly, he doesn’t know if he can eat.

“no thanks. i’m not hungry,” he decides.

rody taps his fingers on the steering wheel, trying to make small talk so it's not so tense. “um… why did you start smoking?” he asks. "it’s not really good for you, y’know…”

vincent is quiet for a moment. he looks at his lap, digging his fingers into his palms. because of you, he thinks. because you’ve been driving me fucking crazy, with your stupid smile, and charming voice, and the way you look at me—

“boredom, i guess.”

rody looks at him with an expression of disapproval. “seriously? i thought you’d have a better reason than that.”

vincent glares at him with a look that could melt steel. “it’s not your business,” he grumbles.

rody perks up. “so you do have a better reason?”

vincent lets out a sigh. “no,” he lies, “but if i did, it would be none of your business. you’re too nosy.”

thankfully, rody doesn’t seem to see through his lies. “i’m just making sure you’re okay!” he raises his voice slightly, trying to get his point across.

“there’s no reason you should care about me this much. it’s like you have a thing for me.” it slips out of vincent’s mouth before he realizes, and he immediately presses his lips together to prevent himself from saying anything else.

rody’s face begins to turn red. “what—?! no, i—i don’t have a thing for you! do you hear yourself, vincent?!” he side-eyes the boy, trying to look as serious as possible.

vincent plays it off, smirking as he chuckles. “calm down. i was just joking. you’re getting real defensive for someone who doesn’t have a thing for me.”

rody gulps. he doesn’t have a thing for vincent. he can’t. vincent is a student, and he’s a counselor. that can’t happen. not to mention, vincent’s not a woman. rody only likes women. he’s not gay—surely he’s not gay. he just doesn’t swing that way. 

does vincent have a thing for him? is that why he’s saying that?

oh god. there’s no way vincent has a thing for him, right? he always acts so withdrawn and reserved around him, like he wants nothing to do with him. he keeps agreeing to let rody drive him home, but that doesn’t mean anything! he’s just too tired from school to walk home.

when rody glances at vincent, the boy is looking out the window. his eyes trace along his nose, lips, his jawline and neck… he is very pretty for a man. not that rody likes him or anything. he can’t. there’s no way.

“hey, quit staring at me. focus on the road.”

“ack—! sorry.”

when they arrive at vincent’s house, the boy almost seems hesitant to get out of the car. he stares blankly at his lap, fidgeting with the fabric of his pants.

“hey, we’re here,” rody says softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. “are you okay?”

vincent seems to lean away from his touch. “ah… yeah, i’m fine.” he doesn’t look up from his lap. “i’m just… a bit tired.”

rody gives him a gentle smile. “well, go on then. go home so you can rest. you have the whole weekend ahead of you before you have to go back to school.”

vincent sighs. “not like i’m going to do anything anyway,” he mumbles under his breath.

“hey, i heard that.” rody crosses his arms playfully. “remember, you can always call me if you need to.”

vincent nods silently. he opens the car door, stepping out and closing it behind him. looking back at rody, he waves goodbye to him before making his way to his front door.

rody waves back, trying to force down the feeling he gets as he watches him disappear behind his door. he stares at the closed door for an uncomfortably long time before finally driving off.

the drive back to his apartment is silent. his apartment is no different, quiet and empty.

when he steps in, he sighs in relief. he makes his way to his bed, flopping down onto it. it’s been such a long week. he’s so tired.

he needs to relax. he needs to find something to help him… unwind a little. he’ll probably just watch a little tv, maybe? he should probably eat, too. though he knows he’ll have no luck in making anything himself. he rolls over in his bed, staring at the ceiling. 

oh! he knows just the thing to help him relax. 

he slips off his shoes, shimmying off his pants and unbuttoning his shirt. he scoots further onto his bed, back resting against the headboard.  his hand reaches down, stopping just above where the waistband of his underwear sits. it moves further, and he lets out a soft noise as he palms himself softly through the fabric. he feels his once soft, flaccid dick begin to harden, pressing against the cloth as if trying to escape.  after a few moments, he pulls the waistband down until his cock is finally able to spring free. 

he gasps slightly at the feeling of the cool air against it, licking his lips as he reaches into the drawer beside his bed and pulls out a bottle of lubricant. he squeezes a small amount onto his fingers, then rubs it around his cock, hissing at the freezing temperature. 

he lets out a soft moan as he slowly begins to stroke himself, hips bucking up into his own touch. he hasn’t done this in a while.

he thinks of his ex-wife, manon. he thinks of the many intimate moments they shared in a bed just like this, touching each other where only they knew felt the best. he swipes his thumb over the tip, gathering the precum pooling there to use as more lubrication. he thinks of the way she would shed her clothing when they had sex. letting her dress fall down her shoulders, her hair covering her back like a curtain. slipping off her shoes and stockings. rody closes his eyes, eager to envision the woman who once loved him.

but she doesn’t appear. instead, someone else does. a frail boy with short, jet black hair a little above his shoulders, with a confusing blank stare that makes what he’s feeling incomprehensible, thin rimmed glasses that frame his face perfectly, and soft, thin lips that are a light shade of pink. 

it’s vincent that appears in his mind. not manon.

he wants to stop. to open his eyes, stop touching himself and rethink his life choices. but it feels far too good to even think about stopping. he thinks of the way vincent looked at him through his eyelashes, wishing he would look at him like that all the time. he thinks back to the phone call they had last night, how he must’ve been in his pajamas, whispering into the phone so his parents wouldn’t hear. he wonders how soft his skin would be under the fabric, pale and unblemished.

his grip around his cock tightens. he’s approaching orgasm, and he can’t stop himself even if he wanted to. he lets out a pathetic groan, bringing his free hand up to cover his mouth and muffle himself.

god, he wants to fuck that boy stupid.

rody lets out a sharp breath as he releases, cock pulsing and splurting out cum as his body goes rigid. though the force of it nearly reaches his pecs, it drips and pools down into his navel disgustingly. even when he thinks he’s done, he still manages to get a couple more spurts out. his body relaxes after his orgasm reaches its end, and he’s left panting as he stares at the aftermath.

he didn’t really just do that, did he…?

that’s not right—he couldn’t have done that. he would never think of a student in that way. at least, he doesn’t think he would.

rody pinches himself. this isn’t a dream. he really just did that.

he feels shame and guilt bubble up in his throat. he’s not even into men, why would he fantasize about vincent of all people? it’s wrong.

the worst part is, it was the best orgasm he’s had in a while.

he doesn’t like vincent, he knows he doesn’t. he can’t. he’s only 16. and—and he’s so small compared to rody. if he even tried to fuck vincent, which he would never do, he would hurt him. it might even… bulge out of his tummy, a little.

rody feels his dick twitch slightly. when he looks down, it seems to be completely stiff once again, red and angry and ready for another round.

there is definitely something wrong with him.

he tries to ignore his painful erection. he grabs a few tissues from the box beside his bed, wiping up the drying cum on his stomach and chest. he’ll need to shower. 

after cleaning up as much of the cum from his skin as possible, he grabs some fresh, clean clothes and heads to the shower.

the water is nice and warm on his back. he tilts his head back, getting his hair wet. he attempts to wait out the spell of arousal, but it soon grows to be too much to bear.

though he’s rather sensitive, he soon manages to wring another orgasm out of himself, leaving him gasping with his legs feeling like jelly. he ignores the thoughts he had about that boy despite the sick feeling in his stomach, cleaning himself thoroughly. after scrubbing all the dried cum off of him and washing his hair, he steps out of the shower and dries himself off with a towel, forgetting about his clothes and leaving back to his room with just his towel wrapped loosely around his waist.

when he lays back down in his bed, he swallows hard as he stares at the ceiling. he doesn’t really want him, does he? he’s supposed to be trying to get his ex-wife back. he loves her, not vincent. he tangles his fingers into his wet hair. this is terrible. how could he have done that?

his thoughts are cut off by the sound of the phone ringing.

he shoots up from his spot in bed, rushing to his bedside table where the phone sits. as he’s about to pick up the phone, he stops. 

it’s probably going to be vincent calling, isn’t it? 

maybe he just shouldn’t pick up. he doesn’t think he can talk to him after doing… that. but what if something’s wrong? he doesn’t want to ignore him.

with a soft breath, he picks up the handset and presses it to his ear.

“hello…?” a slightly raspy, yet soft voice echoes through the receiver. it’s undeniably vincent.

rody presses his lips together. he has absolutely no idea what to say to him. “ah… um. hello, vincent,” he says, voice shaking slightly. “are you alright? is there… something you need?”

vincent is silent for a moment. rody hears him shift slightly.

“i—uh, i need help with my homework,” vincent lies. 

rody blinks. is he serious? rody knows this boy never does his homework, and he doesn’t think he would’ve started doing it on some random friday.

“vincent, i’m—i’m not a teacher.” he runs his fingers through his hair, pushing it back so it’s no longer in his face. it falls back in a matter of seconds. “i hardly passed my classes when i was in high school. i don’t think i can really help you much here…”

“oh,” vincent says blankly. a few beats of silence pass before he speaks again. “well… what are you up to, then?”

rody tenses. he can’t say he just came to the thought of vincent, obviously. he chews on his lip, trying to figure out what to say. 

“ah… um, well—i just got out of the shower. was really sweaty after today, haha…”

vincent is completely quiet. not a sound comes from his mouth. rody waits nearly thirty seconds before nervously chuckling and speaking up.

“uh, vincent?”

he hears vincent take a breath. “oh—sorry. i spaced out,” he says.

“it’s okay. how are you feeling? did you put ointment on the burn like i told you to?” rody asks, twirling the cord of the phone in his fingers.

“yes… yes, i did,” vincent says. it doesn’t sound very truthful, but rody decides not to push him for answers.

“good!” rody smiles softly. “nothing hurts anywhere, right? they, uh… they kicked you pretty hard, huh?”

“no, nothing hurts. i’m okay.”

rody hums in acknowledgment. “have you eaten yet?” 

“yes—you’re asking a lot of questions.” vincent lets out an exasperated sigh. 

rody scratches the back of his neck. “oops… sorry. i’m just worried about you after… that happened,” he explains.

“i already told you not to worry about me.”

“well, it’s kind of hard to not worry…”

the two go silent again for a moment, not knowing how to continue the conversation.

“well, um,” rody begins, “i should probably go eat. i’m starving,” he says.

vincent mood seems to shift. “oh,” he deadpans.

“hah… yeah. um, i’ll see you on monday, vincent. feel free to call me again if you… need anything.”

“…yeah.”

it seems like vincent hangs up before rody’s able to, since the dial tone rings loud in his ear as soon as vincent says that.

“who are you talking to?”

vincent jumps from the sudden voice. when he turns back, it’s his mother. she leans against the wall in his doorway, crossing her arms as she eyes him up and down.

vincent stammers. “i—um, i was just talking to a friend.”

his mother raises her eyebrow. “a friend? really?” she sneers. “you’ve finally made a friend?”

“yes,” vincent gulps, praying she won’t ask him anything about his so-called friend.

“hm, that’s nice. also,” his mother walks up to him before leaning in close and sniffing him. “you reek of cigarettes. a bit young to start smoking, don’t you think?”

vincent’s face flushes slightly red. “i—i’m not smoking.”

“oh, please. you don’t have to lie to me, vincent. i was no better at your age,” she chuckles. “just get yourself a pack. don’t steal mine, alright?”

“…okay.”

she leaves, closing the door behind her.

vincent lets out the breath he was holding. at least she doesn’t care about him smoking. he’d already gotten himself a pack, so he doesn’t need to worry about that.

rody sounded really shaken up on the phone. vincent wonders if something happened. maybe he called too unexpectedly. ugh, the whole ordeal was so awkward. he just wanted to talk to him. rody probably saw through him so easily.

as his mind drifts back to the conversation, he thinks about how rody said he’d just gotten out of the shower. the thought of him, hair dripping wet, a towel wrapped around his waist—it excites him a little too much. his face burns red. 

…he needs a cigarette.

Chapter Text

vincent can never really tell whether he hates weekends or not.

on the one hand, he doesn’t have to worry about school. he doesn’t have any teachers to bother him, no classmates to bully him. he can stay at home and relax. 

but on the other hand, it’s horribly boring. 

he has no friends to hang out with. he doesn’t have many hobbies other than cooking, and his parents wouldn’t be very happy if he were to use their ingredients. he never goes out because he has nothing to do out there anyway. 

maybe he should just call rody again. he doesn’t want to bother him, but he did say he could call whenever he needed… and he sure as hell needs some company right now.

he’s probably been calling too much, though. rody’s going to get sick of him, if he isn’t already. 

stuck in his thoughts, vincent doesn't hear the knocking on his bedroom door. his mother lets herself in, and vincent jumps when he finally hears her.

“earth to vincent!”

vincent blinks, turning his head in her direction. she crosses her arms, raising an eyebrow at him.

“god, what are you so immersed in that you can't even listen to your own mother?” she walks up next to him, placing a hand on his desk and leaning against it. 

vincent swallows. “i was just, um—spacing out. sorry, mother,” he explains. 

“hm.” she narrows her eyes. “well, you need to get out of the house.”

“...huh?”

“you heard me.” she pulls vincent’s chair away from his desk, making him nearly lose his balance. “i’m sick of seeing you cooped up in your room all day. i don't care what you do, just go somewhere.”

vincent steadies himself. “i—i don't have anything to do though. i’d rather be bored here than be bored outside, anyway…” he mumbles the last part, and his mother slaps him on the back of the neck, eliciting a small, pained noise out of him.

“like i said, i don't care what you do. why don't you go see your little friend?”

vincent clenches his jaw. “well, um… he—he’s, uh, out of town for the weekend.” he avoids eye contact, hoping she won’t ask any more questions. thankfully, she doesn't seem to care enough to.

“then go to the park. look at the community board, find something to do. make some more friends. you're too damn antisocial.” she turns away, leaving for the door. “i want you out of the house within ten minutes, and don't come back for at least a couple hours.”

she shuts the door behind her.

well, now vincent actually has to go out. he lets out a groan, covering his face with both hands. he really would rather die than go out, especially since there's a chance he might see someone from his school and get picked on again.

he guesses he doesn't really have a choice though.

he sluggishly stands up, getting properly dressed and grabbing anything he might need. house keys, cigarettes, lighter… he doubts he’ll need much else.

slipping on his shoes, he shoves the items into his pockets and heads for the door.

the walk to the park is quiet and the weather outside is pleasant. it’s not too hot or cool. vincent itches for a cigarette. he told himself he wouldn’t have one until he got to the park, but he’s never been good at resisting his urges.

he pulls the carton of cigarettes out of his pocket, fishing one out. he’s already almost halfway done with it, and he only got it a few days ago. maybe he shouldn't smoke this one. maybe he should tone it down a bit.

he chews on the inside of his cheek. he honestly doesn’t care as much as he thinks he should. without another thought, he pops the cigarette into his mouth and lights it up. it proves to be a little difficult to light, because of the slight breeze, but he eventually gets it. he sighs in relief once he inhales. the smoke invades his lungs, making his body feel light. 

he definitely needed that.

of course, the park is just as boring as home. vincent sits idly on one the benches next to the playground, watching the children run around and play. he fiddles with the buttons on his shirt, thinking about himself as a child, and how he’d gone to this same playground. he didn’t have many friends to play with, so he would sit by himself and pick insects out of the dirt just to eat them. that, in turn, made people less inclined to come up to him. and he was never the type to seek people out to be friends with.

he supposes he’s always been the reason he doesn’t have any friends. he’s never been very normal, after all. he’s always been reserved and… well, to put it simply, just weird. eating bugs and worms, staying in his room all day, skipping his classes. and since he’s never really had any friends, he’s never gotten any better at social interaction, which makes him seem even more peculiar. 

vincent pushes his glasses up, noticing they had been slowly falling down as he was lost in thought. god, he thinks. there’s absolutely nothing to do here. unless you have friends, that is, and he doesn’t have those.

the yelling and laughing coming from the kids is starting to drive him crazy. he should probably go. he pats his pockets, making sure he has everything before standing up to find somewhere else to sit, away from all the noise.

he passes by the community board. it’s full of posters of things he doesn’t care about. he supposes he’ll have a look, though. he has nothing else to do anyway.

there’s a lot of papers about missing animals, clubs, activities... nothing he’s interested in, of course. just when he’s about to leave, something catches his eye. he looks closer. it’s what seems to be a note, partially hidden behind other things pasted to the board. he lifts up the piece of paper in front of it. the handwriting on it is messy, and it looks tattered around the edges, as if it was torn from a larger piece of paper. he leans in to get a closer look, eyes scanning the message.

come to the third stall in the men’s room for a fun time.

vincent backs up slightly, face turning pink. he knows what this means. he chews on his lip. maybe he should… 

no—he can’t do that. that’s far too embarrassing. what if someone from his school finds out he did that?

…he supposes if he’s careful, nobody will find out. he’s going to need experience—or, well, he should see if he even would enjoy it.

he clenches his jaw as he shuffles off to the men’s bathroom.

when he arrives at the aforementioned stall, it's empty. nobody else seems to be in the bathroom, either. he closes and locks the door behind him, deciding he should just wait, see if anyone shows up. when he leans on the wall, he notices a small hole carved next to him. 

oh, he knows what’s going to happen…

his face burns with shame. he can’t believe he’s doing this. he should leave before anything happens. but a part of him is a little excited. the depravity of it all is awfully exhilarating. his heart throbs with a feeling he’s never had before.

he waits for a terribly long time. he’s starting to think he should actually leave. it's been nearly 15 minutes since he got here, and nobody has even come into the bathroom to actually do their business. fidgeting with a lock of his hair, he decides to wait a couple more minutes. if nothing happens, he’ll leave.

those couple minutes pass uneventfully. nobody comes in, at least not until vincent is about to actually head out. 

the door opens and slams closed loudly. footsteps echo through the bathroom and a stall door opens, and vincent can hear that it's the one beside him. the one that the hole leads to. his heart rate spikes. while a part of him prays it’s just a coincidence, another part hopes that something actually happens. 

and something does, in fact, happen.

vincent hears the unbuckling of a belt and the unzipping of a fly before a dick pokes through the hole. vincent nearly makes a noise of surprise, covering his mouth so nothing makes it into open air.

holy shit. this is actually happening.

vincent licks his lips nervously. he should probably… do something, right? the guy on the other side is probably going to get frustrated if he doesn’t. that’s what he came here for, after all.

vincent drops to his knees slowly, trying to be as quiet as possible. he swallows, face to face with the cock of a man he doesn’t even know. its humiliating, really. he’ll never be able to live this down. he opens his mouth, getting ready to press his tongue to the head of his cock.

“hey, hurry up. i don't have all day.” a deep, gruff voice rings through the bathroom.

vincent instinctively backs up, taken aback by the sound of it. everything hits him all at once. this is so wrong, he shouldn’t be doing this. especially not with a man who's probably so much older than him. and especially not with someone he doesn't even know.

panic bubbles up in vincent’s chest until it reaches his throat, forming a lump there. he tries to swallow it down, to no avail. his breathing speeds up, until it feels like every breath he takes in is worth nothing. it’s as if nothing is even making it to his lungs at all. his stomach churns. he thinks he might be sick.

he needs to get out of here. he can’t do this.

vincent scrambles onto his feet, unlocking the door to the stall and sprinting out of the bathroom as fast as he can. he swears he can hear the man yell something out to him, but he’s unable to process exactly what was said. he runs as fast and as far as he can, afraid he might be followed. he doesn’t even know where he’s going. he knows people are probably staring, but he can’t be bothered to care. not right now, not like this.

when vincent eventually comes to a stop, he finds himself surrounded by trees. he must've ran off into the woods. his world spins as he tries to catch his breath. all the running only made him feel more nauseous. he can feel the bile rising up his throat, can feel the saliva pooling in his mouth.

he vomits onto the dirt and grass. there's not really much for him to throw up, considering he hasn't had much to eat today, so all that comes up is vile stomach acid. it burns in his throat. his eyes fill with tears as he gets everything out of his system. when he’s emptied everything out of his stomach, he pants and leans his back against a nearby tree. he slides down slowly so he can sit and rest, coughing to try to get rid of the pain in his throat. a few of the tears that had built up in his waterline slide down his cheeks, and he lets out a soft sob. he doesn’t know why he’s crying. he did that to himself. he wanted it. why is he crying?

he brings his knees up to his chest. he’s so disgusting. he doesn’t know if he can go home to his mother after this. she’ll probably notice how the innocence has been stripped from him as soon as he walks through the door. 

who is he kidding? he never had any to begin with.

vincent decides he needs to smoke another cigarette to calm down. his hands shake as he holds one between his fingers, putting it up to his lips to light it up. he eventually manages to light it properly after a couple moments of struggle. when the nicotine hits his system, he sighs in relief, wiping his tears and runny nose with his sleeve. his shaking eventually begins to cease, and his sobs and hiccups die down.

god, he’s stupid. he should probably go home. he doesn’t want to be here anymore.

when vincent arrives back home, he slowly opens the door, peeking inside to see if his mother is there. he doesn’t exactly want to be yelled at right now. thankfully, she doesn't seem to be. he sneaks in quietly, running to his room and locking his door.

he pulls out the chair by his desk to sit on. he’s still so shaken up from the whole thing. his hands move up to dig into his hair. 

he feels so disgusting. he wishes he had someone to talk to about this. he doesn’t want to keep it a secret. it was so, so scary.

well, there is someone he can talk to.

he scoots his chair up to his desk, picking up the handset and beginning to dial that familiar number. he has it memorized now.

as it rings, vincent tries to think of what he’s even going to say to him. he obviously isn’t going to tell him exactly what happened. he knows he doesn’t want to hear about that.

“hello?” rody’s voice echoes through the speaker. vincent tenses. 

“r—rody?” vincent says stupidly, voice trembling.

“vincent?” rody says, sounding surprised. “are you okay? you don’t sound well.”

“i—um…” vincent attempts to figure out how to word what he wants to say. “something really, really scary just happened to me. and—and i can’t tell you what happened but i just need someone to talk to. i—i don’t have anyone else.” his voice betrays him, cracking despite the effort he puts into sounding normal. he feels like he might cry again. “i—i’m sorry,” he whispers, voice going terribly high-pitched. 

the line goes silent, and for a moment, vincent thinks this might’ve been a mistake.

“oh, vincent… please don’t apologize,” rody almost coos, making vincent feel even smaller than he already does. “are you sure you don’t want to tell me what happened? you sound really upset. i think talking about it might help you process it a little better—”

“no! i can’t—i really can’t, you don’t understand—”

“okay, okay. calm down. i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to push it.” rody’s voice is soft and gentle, and weirdly enough, just the sound of it makes vincent relax slightly. “whatever happened to you, it’s over now. right?”

“y—yes,” vincent hiccups, sniffling. this is so embarrassing, he thinks.

“then there’s no need to worry about it anymore. try to focus on something else, okay? just relax. you’re okay now. there’s no need to cry,” rody says softly.

vincent evens out his breathing after a moment. “okay… um, thank you, rody,” he mumbles, fiddling with the cord of the phone.

“of course. have you eaten today?” 

vincent grits his teeth. “yes, i have,” he lies. he doesn’t want to have to lie to him, but he also doesn’t want rody to worry about him.

“and how’s your burn looking?”

vincent lifts up his shirt slightly to get a look at it. he’s not exactly sure what it should look like, so he just assumes it’s doing fine. though it does still hurt a bit. “um, good? i think.”

“that’s good. i’ll take a look at it when i see you again, just to make sure it’s healing alright.” 

vincent’s face turns red at the thought of rody pulling up his shirt slightly to look at the burn, at the thought of rody’s hands on him. “o—okay.” he gulps, pulling his shirt back down.

rody clears his throat. “so,” he starts, “do you have any plans for the rest of the weekend?” he asks, chuckling awkwardly.

“no, not really. you know i don’t have any friends, right?” vincent scoffs.

“...right,” rody breathes. 

“what about you, rody? i mean,” he pauses, “you’re divorced, and it seems like you don't have many friends either.”

“hey!” rody almost whines. “i have friends! it’s not like i lost them all when my wife and i divorced!”

vincent chooses not to comment on how rody continues to call that woman his wife. “no need to get so defensive.”

“its kind of hard not to when you're saying i have no friends…” rody says sheepishly.

“you must hang out with them on weekends, right? what do you do with them?”

“well—i, um… we go to bars, i guess…?”

vincent can’t help but laugh. “hah, you’re a terrible liar. did you know that?”

rody groans. “yes… i’ve been told that before. many, many times…”

“vincent!”

vincent jumps. it’s his mother calling out to him. he quickly sits up correctly. “shit—i have to go. sorry, rody. bye—”

“what? oh, bye vince—”

vincent slams the handset back down. his mother comes bursting in seconds later. 

“i thought i told you not to come back within the next couple hours.” his mothers voice is low and threatening. even though vincent knows she would never lay a finger on him, he still cowers slightly in fear. “what the hell are you doing back here?”

“it was just really boring at the park, mother. i don't know why you’re so concerned with me going out—”

his mother narrows her eyes as she stares at the phone behind him. “who were you talking to? i thought you said your friend was out of town.” she cuts him off mid-sentence

vincent’s eyes widen slightly. “n—nobody, mother.”

“i’m not stupid, vincent! i heard you talking to someone!”

“god, it’s none of your fucking business! just leave me alone, i'm sick of your shit!”

his mother goes quiet. vincent presses his lips together. shit, he probably just really fucked up.

“...fine. have it your way.”

she turns her back to vincent, walking out and slamming the door behind her. vincent stares at the closed door in disbelief, then runs to the door to lock it. he doesn’t want her to bother him anymore. 

they do not speak for the rest of the weekend.

monday rolls around far too quickly.

vincent stalls for as long as he can before his mother yells at him to leave before he’s late. she’s been holding a grudge ever since vincent lashed out at her, refusing to talk to him unless absolutely necessary. it’s childish, really. if anything, vincent should be the one holding a grudge.

he shivers as he walks out the door. it’s starting to get cooler and cooler by the day, considering autumn is beginning to come around. since vincent is so thin and frail, he gets cold rather easily. he shoves his hands into his pockets, trying to stop them from getting too cold. unfortunately, the jacket he’s wearing is a bit thin. it doesn’t shield him much from the chilly air.

vincent grinds his teeth. when he gets to school today, he won’t be going straight to rody’s office. instead, he’ll go back to his usual classes. he’ll get picked on even worse than before. his classmates will mock him, call him a fag, say he’s been sleeping with the school counselor.

and there’s nothing he can do about it.

vincent sighs. he would usually just skip, but he doesn’t want to risk getting actually suspended. then he wouldn’t be able to see rody at all. god, he’s so attracted to that man, it’s embarrassing. he needs to get over this little crush. it’s not as if rody would ever like him back. vincent is just another student he has to deal with. he’s probably given other students his phone number in case they needed someone to talk to as well. it’s not like he’s being given any special treatment.

when vincent looks up, he realizes he’s arrived at school already. he clenches his jaw. he doesn’t really have much of a choice.

when vincent arrives to his first class, everybody stares at him as he enters and looks for his seat. of course, the one empty seat has to be next to one of the boys who held him down on friday. the boy snickers as vincent sits down and tries to avoid looking at anyone.

“hey,” the boy next to vincent says, voice clearly directed to him. vincent furrows his eyebrows, staring at his lap and ignoring him. 

the boy quickly gets frustrated. vincent hears the noise of a piece of paper being crumpled, then feels something hit the side of his head. “hey, i’m talking to you, freak!”

vincent slowly looks up from his lap, meeting the boy’s eyes. “what do you want?” he growls. 

the boy chuckles. “so, did your pedo boyfriend finally get sick of you?” he crosses his arms, eyeing him up and down. vincent feels his face burn with embarrassment, but tries not to let it show.

“he’s not my fucking boyfriend.”

the boy smirks. “oh, yeah?” he scoffs. “then why did i see you get into his car and drive off with him on friday? don’t think that’s very normal to do with a school counselor…”

gasps are heard throughout the classroom, followed by mocking giggles. now vincent’s face is really red. 

“i—it’s not like that—“

“what? too afraid to admit you’re a fag that likes getting fucked in the ass by older men?”

the giggles turn into full blown laughter. vincent looks back at his lap.

“please leave me alone,” he says, voice nearly cracking with the weight of his emotions. unfortunately, the boy seems to catch on to that.

“aw, is little charbonneau gonna cry?” he taunts. “want us to go get mr. lamoree so he can comfort you?”

vincent bites his lip, trying to contain any noise he might make as well as the hot tears threatening to stream down his cheeks. he wishes he could just disappear.

the boy is speaking again, though vincent can’t understand what he’s saying. all he knows is that he’s upset and angry, and that he needs him to shut up. 

so, he makes him shut up.

his body moves on its own. he doesn’t realize what he’s doing until his fist collides violently with the boy’s nose, nearly making him fall out of his chair. there’s a harsh cracking sound, and he watches as blood trickles out of his nostrils and down his chin. his hands clutch his face, and he groans in pain.

“you…” he blinks once, twice, before looking at vincent with pure rage in his eyes. “you little bitch!”

he lunges forward at vincent, sending them both flying to the floor. vincent tries to shield himself as the boy throws punch after punch at him. the rest of the class crowds around them, watching in shock.

thankfully, their teacher arrives before it gets any worse. she shoves through the crowd of students around them, pulling the boy off of vincent. vincent manages to get on his feet, though he’s a bit out of it.

“what were you two thinking?” the teacher scolds them, eyeing the boy’s bloody nose. 

“vincent hit me first!”

“i don’t care who hit who first, you’re both going to the principal’s office. now!”

sitting in the principal’s office feels as humiliating as being sent to rody’s office for the first time was. the principal, whose name vincent doesn't bother remembering, stares at them with a glare so piercing it could melt through steel.

“so, would one of you mind explaining why on earth you two were fighting?” he growls through his teeth.

vincent averts his eyes. he’d rather not talk about it, honestly.

“vincent punched me first. i was only defending myself, sir.”

vincent chuckles. “defending yourself?” he side-eyes him, raising an eyebrow. “you and your friends beat the shit out of me all the time. you provoked me,” he mumbles, just loud enough for the boy next to him to hear.

the principal clasps his hands on his desk. “now, vincent. there’s no need to mumble. if you have something to say, speak clearly.” he looks over at the boy next to vincent, who seems rather frustrated, then back at vincent. “you know that even if he provokes you, that doesn’t mean you can hit him.”

the boy smirks. when the principal notices this, he clears his throat to catch his attention. “and, andré, him hitting you doesn't mean you should hit him back.” 

andré, vincent thinks. he didn’t exactly know his name before this.

andré almost whines. “not my fault vincent’s a fag. you know he’s been fucking the counselor, right?” he crosses his arms, smirking slightly. 

“shut the hell up. i’m not a fag,” vincent lies through his teeth, “and i’m not doing anything with that guy,” he huffs, though he knows he secretly wishes he was.

“oh, sure—”

the principal slams his hands on the desk loudly, causing them both to jump. “enough! andré, you’re going too far.”

“it’s true! on friday, i saw him get into mr. lamoree’s car!”

the principal seems to stop in his tracks. “…i’m sorry?”

andré snickers. “yeah. who knows what they did after they drove off,” he scoffs. “probably went to some empty parking lot so they could…y’know.”

the man in front of them blinks once, twice, before looking over at vincent for answers. “vincent, is this true?”

vincent gulps, clenching his fists. his mouth says nothing, but his demeanor says everything.

the principal picks up the handset from the phone next to him, dialing something quickly. he’s saying something, but vincent pays no mind to it. 

he can’t believe the day has just started and he’s already in trouble. not only that, but he’s going to get rody in trouble too. he doesn’t know if he can face him again after this. 

when vincent is broken out of his trance, he turns to find rody standing behind him. the counselor gives him a warm smile, almost assuring him he’s done nothing wrong.

“you called me here, sir?” rody says to the principal, voice almost shaking.

the principal taps his foot. “yes,” he starts. “andré told me he just so happened to see vincent getting into your car.” he narrows his eyes at rody. 

rody visibly tenses.

“don’t lie to me now.” his stare bores through rody, and the counselor seems to take a breath.

“ah… um,” rody stammers, “he—he just needed a ride home.”

the principal stares rody up and down. “mr. lamoree, you do know that’s not exactly appropriate of you to do for a student, right? you’re supposed to call the student’s parents so they can take them home.”

“m—my apologies, sir.” rody swallows, unable to find a better answer.

the principal hums. “don’t let this happen again. you’re free to go.”

rody blinks a few times before nodding and taking his leave. not without giving vincent a small wave, of course.

vincent does not wave back.

the principal turns his attention back to the boys in front of him. “i’m giving you both detention. you will both come to my office after your last classes,” he sighs. “don’t be late.”

andré rolls his eyes slightly, just enough to evade the principal’s attention. “alrighty, mister,” he murmurs under his breath. the principal glares at him. 

“do not give me attitude. i can always make this worse for you.” he lowers his voice slightly. 

“okay, okay. i’m sorry.”

the principal nods in approval. “vincent,” he says, trying to get the boy in question’s attention. “do you understand?”

vincent looks up at him, keeping his head down. “yes, sir.”

“good.” the principal leans back slightly in his chair. “now, andré. go to the nurse’s office for that bloody nose. and vincent, get back to class if you’re not also injured. i don’t want to see you two in my office unprompted again, so no more fighting.”

vincent nods unthinkingly, standing up and leaving the office without a word. he doesn’t bother going to the nurse, despite the slight pain in his cheek. it’s probably going to bruise.

…whatever. he doesn’t care.

thankfully, nobody else bothers vincent after that.

it’s lunchtime now. vincent could either go to the cafeteria and risk getting picked on again, or go to rody’s office and risk being spotted with him. he’s sure he’ll be the center of everyone’s ridicule if he goes to the cafeteria, so he chooses the latter.

vincent never eats lunch at school for two reasons: he dislikes when people watch him eat, and he’s never hungry enough to anyway. now that he thinks about it, actually, rody might question him about not eating. he really hopes he doesn’t, but knowing him…

vincent nearly bumps head-first into the door to rody’s office. he didn’t even realize how close he was. he peeps through the small window in the door, and finds rody eating the food he brought for lunch. he narrows his eyes, trying to figure out what he brought. seems to be leftovers from some sort of takeout?

in that moment, rody seems to spot vincent in the window. he swallows his food, wiping his mouth and giving vincent a wave. vincent’s eyes widen and he hides behind the door as if it would wipe rody’s memory.

“vincent, you can come in!” he hears rody yell from inside the office, voice muffled. vincent slowly opens the door, peeking inside. “good afternoon, vincent,”

vincent steps inside. “good—good afternoon, rody.”

rody gives him the same cheerful smile he always does. “did you want to spend lunchtime here?” he asks.

vincent nods. “yes, please,” he says pathetically. 

“feel free to,” rody chimes.

the desk that vincent was sitting at last week is still here and thankfully unoccupied, so vincent chooses to sit there.

“so,” rody begins, “i was told you got into a fight this morning.”

vincent whips his head up. “it was hardly a fight.” he averts his eyes. “i hit him once because he provoked me and he took that as permission to beat me up.”

“you did give that kid a pretty bad bloody nose.”

“he called me a fag,” vincent huffs.

“you shouldn’t let your emotions get the better of you. i told you, i don't want you to get in any more trouble,” rody sighs, resting his chin on his hand. 

vincent hums. “yeah, well. at least i only got detention.” 

“detention that you have to spend with the guy who torments you everyday here.”

“can we change the subject?” vincent blurts, voice shaking slightly. “i’d rather not talk about being bullied when i’m trying to forget about it.”

rody puts his hands up defensively. “of course, vince. i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

vincent raises an eyebrow. “vince?” 

“yeah!” rody lets out an awkward chuckle. “i hope you don't mind me calling you that.”

anyone who knows vincent, which is not many people, honestly, knows he doesn’t like being called nicknames. it doesn’t matter who its by. family members, close friends—he always gets that uncomfortable feeling in his chest when someone calls him a nickname. he hates it, to put it simply.

but this time, he doesn’t feel that discomfort in his chest. instead, he feels something else he can’t seem to recognize. it makes his body feel warm and fuzzy inside.

“are you alright? your face is a bit red.”

vincent blinks. “ah—uh. yeah. sorry, i spaced out.” he turns his head away from rody. “you can call me whatever you want. i don’t really mind.”

“oh, good! i was worried i might’ve made you upset.” the relief is evident in rody’s voice. “by the way, how’s that burn of yours looking?”

vincent shrugs. “i don't know.”

“you’ve been putting ointment on it, right?”

vincent shrugs once again. rody sighs in exasperation. 

“can i get a look at it, then? i should have some ointment somewhere here.” rody begins to rifle through one of the drawers of his desk, pulling out a small first aid kit and finding some antibiotic ointment. when rody looks back at vincent, he beckons him over with a hand. “oh, you might want to cover the little window. i don’t want anybody to see and get the wrong idea…”

vincent nods wordlessly, moving a piece of paper taped next to the window on top of it. after making sure the window is fully covered, he stands in front of rody and lifts up his shirt just slightly so that the burn is visible. he clenches his jaw, trying not to make how flustered he is obvious.

“oh…” rody says, worry lacing his voice. “it doesn’t look so good.” 

he grabs the tube of ointment, squeezing a small amount onto his pointer finger. the ointment is thick and slightly yellow in color. rody gently places a hand on vincent’s hip to keep him still, carefully smearing the ointment over the burn. it doesn’t hurt, but it tickles slightly.

vincent stares at rody with wide eyes. he is so incredibly close, vincent can feel the warmth of his breath on his lower belly. his mind drifts, thinking about what his breath would feel like on his neck, or what his hands would feel like if they touched… elsewhere. not to mention, his hands are so much bigger than his. he thinks they might touch if rody ever wrapped them around his waist.

“done!” 

vincent snaps out of his trance. not only had rody put the ointment on, but he also covered it with a small bandaid. beyond the burn, vincent sees a slight bulge forming in his pants, to his horror.

“i—i…” vincent stutters, unable to come up with any reasonable excuse.

“oh—oh my—” rody stares at it in disbelief, before looking up at vincent. the poor boy’s face is so red, it looks like he might cry. “no, no—it’s okay, vince,” he reassures.

“what the fuck do you mean? it—it’s not okay, i just—”

“vince.” rody cuts him off. “you’re young, it’s completely normal. there’s no need to be embarrassed.” he gives vincent a soft, awkward smile, hoping his words will calm him down slightly. “it’s alright.”

“i—i’m really sorry,” vincent mumbles, voice small and pitiful. he shuffles back to his little desk, sitting down and crossing his legs uncomfortably. he’s tempted to curl up, but he doesn’t want to look even more pathetic around rody.

rody stands up, making his way to vincent and placing a hand on his head to pet him. “i promise it’s alright.”

vincent swallows nervously, looking up at rody like a deer in headlights. rody stares back at him with a look he can't seem to recognize. their eyes stay fixed on each other for far too long.

rody suddenly blinks rapidly, stepping back. vincent almost pouts. he was enjoying the touch.

“oh—um. about me driving you home…”

vincent looks at his lap. “you can’t anymore, right?”

“well… i guess not, but…” rody says, before lowering his voice. “if nobody catches us…”

vincent looks back up. “no way,” he refuses. “i don’t want to get you in more trouble.” 

“if nobody catches us, i won’t!”

“...if you insist.” vincent tries to hide the smile that creeps onto his face. his eyes dart over to the clock. lunchtime is almost over.

…well, he should probably wait for his erection to go down before he leaves.