Touch

 

Author:  Kevswitchau

Pairing:  Casey

Genre:  slash, The Faculty, PWP

Rating:  NC-17

Warnings:  Masturbation, angst.

Disclaimer:  I don’t own Casey or The Faculty or anyone or any thing in the Faculty Universe.  I am eternally grateful to those that do, however.

 

 

 

Casey stood in front of the mirror, the water from the shower beading on his white skin.

 

He ran his fingers lightly over the bruises on his chest, his breathing speeding up as he pressed, just lightly, against the purpled flesh.

 

He touched me here.

 

Casey would never understand it.  He’d never understand himself.  But every time he closed his eyes, he saw him and felt him, and he’d grow hard at the thought.

 

He was hard now.

 

Turning slightly, he glanced furtively at the door.  It was locked.  He always locked it, but he just had to make sure. 

 

He looked at himself again, sucked in a breath, and ran his fingers over his chest, teasing his nipples into hard peaks.  He touched the bruise again.  Harder.  More deliberately.  A small moan whispered past his lips as he closed his eyes.  Pictured rough fingers on his skin.  Marking him.

 

Casey scooted his hand down over his stomach and to the nest of curls below.  Almost absently, he stroked the soft hair, running it through his fingers, feeling the springy texture.  Behind his closed eyelids he saw another pair of hands touching him...caressing him. 

 

He gasped as the fingers his fingers pinched the skin of his hip, bringing a blush to the surface...and he smiled.  That’s more like it.  That’s what you’d do.  Gnawed fingernails scratched roughly over his stomach.  He pinched his nipple hard.  Harder.  He whimpered.  That hurt...that hurt you bastard...do it again.

 

His fingers travelled downwards once more and curled around his cock.  He was erect already.  Like a bit of rough trade, do ya geek?  Casey bit his lip to stifle a giggle as he tugged experimentally...a little harder than usual...and savoured the feeling.  He squeezed himself, and gasped, feeling pressure...the blood pounding in the head of his cock...a deep, rhythmic pulse. 

 

His eyes still closed, feeling the other’s hands on him, Casey began to jerk off.

 

Casey felt it, somewhere deep inside him.  He hated it and loved it.  Every time he was pushed or punched.  Every time he was trapped between a hard body and a locker, feeling breath in his face and blows on his flesh.

 

He screamed for them to stop.  Over and over he screamed.  But when they stopped, he felt it again...and something inside him screamed for more.

 

Casey opened his eyes and stared into the mirror.  Who are you?  Where the fuck did I go?  But the blue eyes looking back at him just reflected his pain and his pleasure.  His hopeless slavery to both. 

 

He closed his eyes again and leaned forward, his forehead pressed against the wet, cold glass of the mirror.

 

His breath came in short gasps as everything disappeared except the coldness of the glass against his face and the feeling of his hand hard around his cock.  He wanted to laugh and he wanted to cry as he felt the familiar tightening in his stomach.  His mind flew to the locker room.  To the dampness and the heat.  To the smell.  The smell.  To the feeling of rough, almost alien hands on his body.  Bruising him.  Hurting him.  His arm moved faster...harder...he roughly jerked at his cock, feeling the pleasurepain...feeling the nerves singing as he whimpered again, and screwed his eyes shut.

 

Touch me...touch me...I don’t care how, just for fuck’s sake...please...please...

 

He tasted blood and he realised that he had bitten his lip, but he wouldn’t stop.  He couldn’t stop.  He saw himself shoved against a locker.  Felt the shock of metal against the back of his head, the coldness through his thin t-shirt as the hands held him and pushed him, tearing material and contacting with bare, beaten skin.

 

Casey reared back, his head falling forward against the mirror again as he came, feeling the hot spurt in his fist, hearing it splash against the tiles.  The bathroom smelled of soap and cum and his body spasmed as his fingers milked the last from his deflating cock.

 

Gabe....Gabe...ahhhh fuck.

 

Casey opened his eyes again and saw something shining there.  Something hard.  Something wounded.  Something somewhere between love and hate.  This had to stop.  It had to stop before they killed him.  It had to stop before he killed himself.  He wasn’t sure who he hated more.  Them.  Or Himself.  Right now, the bet was firmly in favour of the latter.

 

Casey reached for the roll of toilet paper and cleaned the wall, before washing his hands.  He looked at himself once more in the mirror, and turned away to get dressed.

 

He had to get to school.

 

Kevswitchau

 

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