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The Spoils of the Spoiled

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His gasps were thin when Gwyn put his mouth over his boxers. And all Augus could think was that he hadn’t showered, he hadn’t even changed since the morning before and Gwyn didn’t even seem to care. He was taking deep, long breaths like it was good. Augus knew what he smelled like after two days without showering. He could tolerate it, but he was surprised someone else seemed to enjoy it.

Seeing the champion of the school – the one slated to get whatever sports scholarship he wanted, the one already scouted out for different university programs – on his knees, was dizzying. He’d watched at least ten, no, twenty, no - more porn videos where this was the theme. He held curls of shortish, blond hair in his fingers, pressed Gwyn’s face closer, and instead of struggling against him, Gwyn went with it, nose pressed hard into his pelvis and something wriggling a line over his hardening dick. When Augus realised it was Gwyn’s tongue – hot and spreading a damp patch over his underwear – he tilted his head back.

‘Fucking suck me already,’ Augus groaned.

Because he’d dreamed about it, imagined it, but never actually experienced it, and this was already very different to just vicing a lubed hand around his dick and going to town in his head about what someone blowing him might actually feel like.

Giant fingers slipped into his boxers and drew him out, calluses brushed against him in a way that stung and had Augus’ hips bucking against Gwyn’s face, almost knocking him backwards.

‘Take it easy,’ Gwyn chastised, but he sounded amused.

Not vulnerable, not scared, not any of that deliciousness he’d been putting forth earlier. Now he just sounded like he knew what he was doing.

‘You fucking slut,’ Augus gasped, looking down.

Gwyn’s head shot up and he stared at him, something angry in his eyes, his jaw tensed.

He let go of Augus’ dick instantly, and then ducked his head out from beneath Augus’ fingers. Augus’ eyes widened when he realised what he’d said, and he reached for Gwyn’s shoulder, claws snagging in his shirt.

‘Wait,’ Augus said. ‘I say it to my brother all the time.’

‘Before he blows you?’ Gwyn said, quirking an eyebrow. ‘I always wondered about you two.’

‘Fuck off,’ Augus snarled, disgusted.

‘I’m not your brother, don’t say that to me.’

‘You’re very confident for someone whose life could be ruined by what I’ve got on tape.’

Gwyn stiffened, stared at him. Augus raised both his eyebrows in response. He could tell from this distance that Gwyn didn’t have to shave. Not yet, anyway. He could see the fact that he didn’t care about things like plucking or waxing his eyebrows, and that he had what looked like a scratch underneath his shirt, probably where Augus had grabbed him.

‘Come on,’ Augus said, leaning back against the wall. ‘You seem like you know what you’re doing.’

He made an embarrassingly high noise when Gwyn grabbed his dick with fingers that were too rough. He looked down, caught, and Gwyn stared up at him.

‘Delete it,’ Gwyn said, squeezing slightly.

‘I’ll think about it after,’ Augus said, wincing and then gasping when Gwyn’s hand moved up and down his length. He opened his mouth to taunt, to say something, and only came up with:

‘You overachiever.’

‘Thanks,’ Gwyn said, flat.

Augus thought he would leave. Thought that offering to delete it later wouldn’t be good enough; knew that extorting sexual favours – he hadn’t really intended to do that, exactly – was probably way beyond even what he thought was acceptable. But then slightly dry lips were wrapping around the head of his dick, a tongue was pushing back his foreskin and laving over the sensitive skin beneath and Augus hissed, knees beginning to shake.

The inside of Gwyn’s mouth was warm and not as slick as he’d expected. He felt a light ridge of the underside of Gwyn’s teeth, before that was tucked away behind his lips. Gwyn sucked hard, almost painfully so, several times, and Augus groaned even as he realised that Gwyn was getting more saliva into his mouth, because a moment later the broad flat of a tongue was painting it over him.

Heat dropped from his chest down into his gut, and then further still into his balls. He wasn’t sure he’d actually gotten hard so quickly before. His fingers fisted in Gwyn’s hair and he tried not to buck forwards and failed, pathetically.

He figured it was his first time, he could hardly be blamed for-

‘Jesus fucking- What are you doing?’ Augus squeaked, forcing his eyes forward from where they’d rolled into the back of his head, in order to stare down at the top of Gwyn’s hair, shuddering, bowing over him.

It wasn’t like all of his dick was in Gwyn’s mouth, but he could feel the head of himself brushing up against that tight space of Gwyn’s throat and he wanted to be composed the first time this happened. He wanted to be put together. He always imagined himself drawling one liners and saying filthy things and instead Gwyn had Augus' dick filling his mouth and the back of his throat felt like something he couldn’t even try and replicate with his hands and then Gwyn was chuckling, chuckling over him and the vibrations were right there and his balls were drawing up and he was telling himself no, really, wait, he’s only been down there for about sixty seconds and he’s hardly moved his head back and forth you’re supposed to make the most of this at least pull his hair some more, you-

Augus came hard. His palm slapped against the wall behind him and he made an awkward sound that was half inhale, half strangled choke as his throat closed up and his lungs heaved for air at the same time. And it felt weird, it did, to not be spilling onto his own hand or to be seeing his release pool into a tissue or be immediately washed away in a shower. Not having to do anything but concentrate on remaining standing as Gwyn had no choice but to stay put, Augus’ other hand having an unwittingly cruel grip on the top of his head, fingers scratching back and forth with each spasm that rocked up the back of his thighs.

Gwyn coughed around him, his mouth tightened to the point that it was painful and Augus let go immediately. Gwyn pulled off, coughing deep in his chest, hand coming up to cover his mouth as he turned away. But he didn’t spit anything out, and Augus stared, wide-eyed, breathing hoarsely, as Gwyn coughed a few more times and then was clearly swallowing.

‘What do I taste like?’ Augus said, realising he should care more that they were in a library, and just not.

‘Like come,’ Gwyn said, voice thick like he was recovering from a sore throat, and the glee Augus felt at doing that to him was so intense that he briefly closed his eyes again.

Gwyn pushed himself to his feet, a fairly formidable bulge in his jeans and a dazed look in his eyes. They were faintly red rimmed, but Augus saw no signs of tears. He supposed sixty seconds wasn’t long enough.

Gwyn stepped forwards and Augus thought they were going to kiss, he thought-

Gwyn reached into Augus’ pocket and snatched out his phone.

‘Virgins,’ Gwyn muttered under his breath.

‘It’s locked,’ Augus said, not moving, though his instincts were to lunge at Gwyn and snatch it off him, he was about one hundred percent certain how effective that would be.

‘I’m sure that if I kept this, it would cost a fair penny for you to get it replaced, wouldn’t it? You’re not exactly rolling in cash. Your brother could steal one, I’m sure, everyone knows what he gets up to – but I’m guessing that if this is a stolen phone, you probably have to be pretty careful about…linking accounts, don’t you? At least? You’d have to build everything from scratch – contacts, history.’

‘It’s backed up. You steal my phone and I will email everything Mafydd said to your parents. And trust me, you don’t want them knowing in fairly X-rated detail just how tight you were the first time Mafydd got it up there.’

Gwyn stared at him.

‘What, virgins can’t be crude?’ Augus said, grinning. ‘Or is it that you’re wondering how I got him to talk? He was so reluctant at first. ‘But I’m not supposed to,’ ‘but I signed a contract,’ ‘I don’t even know you.’ But people want to talk, Gwyn. Everyone does. Even you, I’m guessing. Though what you talk about beyond wrestling and being an idiot at Lit is beyond me. Oh…perhaps dick. Maybe you talk about that too.’

Augus tucked himself into his pants and zipped up the fly of his own jeans, licking his lips. His head was pounding from the force of his orgasm. He felt like he’d had some kind of revelation. Gwyn was good at this, he was sure. And he was sure it was more than just…the bias of it being his first time.

‘You don’t know me,’ Gwyn said stiffly, still holding the phone above his head. His lips were still swollen. The bulge in his jeans was…less noticeable. Augus thought that was rather a shame.

He walked slowly towards Gwyn and Gwyn’s arm stretched higher to the ceiling, which was almost perfect really, because it meant it was harder for him to push Augus away when he wrapped one arm around his taut waist and pressed his hand against the bulge of his dick, tracing it with his fingers. His mouth opened at his own daring, his eyes lidded, and Gwyn jolted in his arms; like he wanted to get away and didn’t, at the same time.

‘Why don’t you care about being caught?’ Augus said, looking around. His eyes narrowed. ‘It’s a blind spot, isn’t it? Because someone like you would care about being caught. Especially after what happened last time.’

Gwyn made a choked sound as Augus stretched fingers to his fly and undid the button. Gwyn was still wearing his uniform, and the black button was stiff as he worked it through the material. The briefs beneath were black, simple, and probably cost more than Augus could imagine.

He wriggled his fingers beneath, the skin on his knuckles catching on the elastic band.

Gwyn was definitely trembling.

Augus’ breathing was evening out. This was a lot easier to do now that he’d just blown his load into someone else’s mouth. He hardly even had to worry about clean up. Convenient.

He felt faint wisps of pubic hair – not nearly as much as he’d expected – and certainly less than what he had. He rubbed at it curiously, and Gwyn inhaled sharply. Augus didn’t look up at him, focusing instead on slipping dexterous fingers around a dick that was bent to the side – far too trapped for its own comfort he was sure – and thick enough that the ring of his index finger and thumb couldn’t quite close around it. He could smell it between them – sweat and come and he thought it would be disgusting but it wasn’t.

He bit his bottom lip and began stroking Gwyn, hardly able to move, his wrist at an odd angle.

The hand that wasn’t holding Augus’ phone shifted, and Gwyn started to dig his fingers into his pants, like he wanted to draw himself out.

‘No,’ Augus said, his voice surprisingly strong given everything that was happening. Gwyn – equally surprising – froze. ‘No, I want you to come in your tailored fucking pants.’

‘Augus,’ Gwyn breathed, voice faintly wrecked. ‘Can you just-’

‘What was it like?’ Augus said, working his hand faster and feeling more of Gwyn’s length in his palm and finding it dizzying. ‘You must have really liked him. A lot. You put everything on the line for him. And then it all ended the way that it did? He was pretty sad, you know.’

Not sad, exactly. Bitter, Augus was guessing. Mafydd had been interesting enough. A little too cocky and brash for his tastes. He’d been a little too willing to spill everything. For someone who had been made to sign a contract and a confidentiality agreement, he seemed to want to vent about the whole situation.

And it didn’t really seem like Mafydd was really…heartbroken over the whole thing.

Just cut up about the university situation.

Gwyn’s chest was heaving above him, in time to each of Augus’ fast, tight tugs. Something caught at the top of each inhale, like the beginning of a sob.

‘I’m not someone you want to cross,’ Augus said, breathless now because he could feel the way Gwyn was winding up and knew it was uncomfortable because he’d tried to get himself off in his own pants before and he hated it, but he also knew it was more than possible. He pressed the side of his head into Gwyn’s collarbone and kept looking down. ‘And they don’t want to expel me, or even Ash, because guess what? They need to meet a quota of disadvantaged students. It’s part of their creed. And I’m a good choice for them, because I’m definitely going to a university. No wonder you bottom, by the way. I’m pretty sure this is a weapon of mass destruction.’

Gwyn made a low, pained sound and his hips bucked into Augus’ hand. But he didn’t come, not yet.

Augus was surprised at how much he was enjoying himself. He turned his face into Gwyn’s neck and smelled the faintest whiff of cologne. He wondered what it was. Beneath that, a sharp sweat – fear and arousal and who knew what else. Augus hummed in the back of his throat and he realised how ridiculous they must look, Gwyn still holding the phone above his head.

‘Keep my phone,’ Augus gritted out as he tightened his grip and worked Gwyn so roughly in his pants that Gwyn tried to half-heartedly push him away. ‘Keep it. Jailbreak it. You’re desperate. And you know what? I think you’re lonely. Gay and expected to be a sports-star, and everyone knowing that you got Mafydd expelled, no matter what you say. The only people who believe it was sexual assault is your parents. And they were just covering for you.’

Gwyn’s knees started to buckle and he caught himself. His spine stiffened, his head bowed forwards and pressed hard against Augus’ head and he was coming, silently, mouth open and breaths rough against Augus’ shirt. Augus’ fingers stayed in that cramped space and were getting painted with spill, and Augus couldn’t tell if he liked it or not, but he certainly liked the power. And when Gwyn seemed to half-collapse onto him, his weight pushing Augus a step backwards, he liked that too.

He carefully plucked his phone from Gwyn’s fingers with his spare hand, and Gwyn made a sound like he was hurt.

Augus’ eyes narrowed.

Gwyn stepped back from him, a shaking hand moving to cover his crotch even though it was far too late – Augus was already surreptitiously wiping remnants of Gwyn’s creamy spill onto the underside of his shirt. Everything got laundered over the weekend, it’d be fine. Maybe he’d just rinse it quickly when he got back to his dorm.

Gwyn looked up and Augus stilled.

His eyes were wet, tears clinging to his eyelashes and the rims so red that the blue was almost painful. No one’s eyes should look like that. It wasn’t fair.

‘I’m sorry I hit him,’ Gwyn said, each word carefully placed down like it was fragile. ‘That’s what you want, isn’t it? Or my- or my humiliation. Were you recording this too? Is this…’

Gwyn closed his eyes, his other hand pressing into his stomach. He looked far too pale all of a sudden, and Augus was about to leave, about to grab his bag and just leave, and instead he found himself walking forwards and pushing Gwyn back into a chair.

The fact that Gwyn didn’t struggle, didn’t even fight him, was shocking. Augus drew a chair up and faced him. He felt more like he just wanted to curl up in a bed and sleep, but he supposed that was an ingrained habit.

‘I wasn’t recording this,’ Augus said quietly. He laughed. ‘You have no reason to believe me, but I wasn’t.’

‘Then what do you want?’ Gwyn said, resting his head in his hands and not even looking at him. His fingers were still shaking. Augus huffed under his breath and reached over for his rucksack, opening it quickly. He drew out the half-sandwich that was left.

‘You look like you could eat,’ Augus said, and pushed it over.

Gwyn’s head twitched towards it, but he didn’t pick it up, didn’t take it. Maybe he wasn’t hungry. Augus figured anyone who looked that pale, that suddenly, was possibly dealing with more than just emotional distress. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen kids who were starving in some of the homes he’d lived in, after all.

And then he paused and squinted at the half-sandwich, and back to Gwyn.

It was a weird feeling to get about Gwyn though…

‘Just tell me what you want, Augus,’ Gwyn said, and Augus sighed.

‘Social capital,’ Augus said, pursing his lips. ‘Ash, as you can probably imagine, does nothing solid for my reputation. Despite everything that happened, you’re still well respected by the Principal and many of the staff, and many of the students give you a wide berth. I could ruin you, but I’d much rather take advantage of something you have in abundance. I want you to start spending time with me.’

That…hadn’t been exactly what Augus wanted either. Really, he just wanted to threaten him and hold his life around his little finger for a while – well, until the end of school, really.

He sat there, surprised at what he’d said and still meaning every word of it.

I want you to start spending time with me.

Augus figured he probably just wanted more of those blowjobs, and dismissed anything else he felt on the matter.

‘My Dad says I can’t,’ Gwyn said, shifting his dick in his pants and then looking up at Augus with the kind of soulful eyes he’d seen on dogs begging for food.

‘You do everything your Dad says? Oh wait, don’t answer that. Do you want to? I’m not saying we have to date or anything. Just spend time with me. Sit with me in the library sometimes. Have lunch with me. Just let people see us together sometimes.’

‘They’ll think we’re fucking,’ Gwyn said. ‘And then you’ll get expelled.’

The laugh that Gwyn gave was so bleak that it scraped at something in Augus’ chest.

‘I don’t get expelled,’ Augus said. ‘I’m airtight.’

Gwyn said nothing, and Augus laughed.

‘Okay then, hang out with all of us.’

Gwyn looked up and stared at him.

‘I just hit your brother. You hate me. I know you’re going to fuck me over.’

‘Yeah,’ Augus said, leaning back in his chair. ‘We both know that. Maybe you might change my mind? I’m flexible, and you don’t really have many other options, do you?’

Gwyn shook his head, shook it again, and then stood up stiffly and put away all his gear, checking and double checking it, before slinging it over his shoulder and giving Augus a long, unreadable look. He left Augus in the library, half a wrapped sandwich on the desk. Augus decided he was going to use the hot water until it ran out as soon as he could step into the damned shower.


Monday morning, after the weekend, Gwyn found him as he walked out of trigonometry.

Augus stared at him. He looked unwell.

‘Gwyn,’ Augus said, ignoring the brush of students past him and staring at him, ‘are you-’

‘Okay,’ Gwyn said, meeting his eyes, something lost in the depths of them. ‘Okay, I’ll spend time with you. It’s just- going to make you more likely to use the recording than not. I have no social capital.’

‘Except your family.’

Gwyn closed his eyes. When he opened his eyes, something glittered there that made Augus think he wanted to land a punch. It was a strange thing to think, given his body language was still…defeated.

‘Fuck them,’ Gwyn said, staring at Augus. ‘Right?’

‘Oh, so I’m going to be a part of your teen rebellion phase?’

‘If you want,’ Gwyn said.

He turned and walked away, feet dragging, and Augus had the oddest sense that he’d maybe stepped into something that was a lot bigger than he really understood.