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no one ever said it had to be healthy.
More sensitive things are to come, I promise.
Claus has a problem, a definite problem, a thorn in his side, a inconvenience.
It’s simply four letters long, a repeat in them, a single vowel-- its name is Ness. His name is Ness.
When he thinks of him, a sharp pain runs through his head. Ouch, it hurts, it most certainly hurts.
“I have to erase him somehow.”
It’s a muse. A long muse. A finger tap on the lips, a rhythm to it.
It’s a problem at school, this young man. He thinks that with a baseball bat, he is worth everything, he is the shit, so to speak. How droll, Claus thinks, utterly and entirely lame.
“Lucas,” the boy with the hat hair says.
“Lucas,” the boy with the hat hair says, lustily.
“Lucas,” the boy with the hat hair says, looking into his brother’s eyes with such intent.
“Believe me, you could never get him to speak like that for you.”
Claus stares into the abyss. He sees that jealousy. And he loves it. He soaks in that green fury, he loves it, it puts a fire in his heart, and he is simply alive.
“Lucas.” Claus hates the way his brother’s name rolls on Shitbag’s, rather, Ness’s, tongue. He says it so often. Don’t wear out my brother’s name.
He slams his hands on the lunch table.
“Lucas.”
It’s true, I say it so much better.
“Yes, Claus?”
He doesn’t see. Of course, Lucas is innocent, not knowing much of anything that can hurt him. Fuckboys who love everyone like Ness never change. I have to protect him.
“Actually, you can come too, Ness,” Claus says coyly. “in fact, I would love it if you did.”
“Uh, all right.”
Does the man eat garbage? What an ugly voice.
The back. The back of the school, rather.
“What is it, Claus? You took us all the way back here, is it something secret?”
Ah, Brother, your eyes are so very pure.
“Oh yes, it’s something very secret… But I trust Ness with it.”
“I’m glad you’re friends then!”
Innocent.
The trash, however--
has “Oh shit” written all over his face. In permanent marker. The sweat won’t wipe it off.
“Well, Lucas,” Claus says, gently grasping his brother’s hand, “let’s give him something he can remember.”
His lips brush the side of his brother’s neck, ears getting ticklish against soft hair. His mouth opens, his eyes close, but not before looking in silent glee at a trashbag with a hole in it.
“Claus--” the man in question feels his brother’s breath stop, his cheeks flare.
Oh yes. Ness does in fact, look plenty horrified.
If it wasn’t enough, tracing circles in his brother’s back, grasping him gently, breathing on his neck, pressing close to him--
Perhaps a kiss would be enough.
“Claus…” Lucas never resists, really, he’s caught up in him, merely putty in his hands. There’s a certain love behind it.
And he kisses him again.
“Yes, Lucas?” his voice is quiet.
You could never summon that tone in his voice like I could, trash.
“I thought this was a secret thing,” he breathes quietly, staring at Ness.
“Oh, I trust him to keep our little… thing a secret, you know.”
Heh.
Another glance, a last glance.
Ness gapes, he’s staring.
“He’s mine,” Claus mouths, hand hovering over his ass. “Mine.”
His cheeks redden, and he looks away uncomfortably.
Do you want to know the secret behind us? he thinks with a smirk.
The boy’s jaw hits the ground.
He drops his phone and runs, but Claus knows it, he saw it clearly.
Don’t wear such tight pants, fuckboy.