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It was a stormy autumn night, the only thing illuminating the dark chamber was the lick of fire. Huddled in a small corner sat a young person, bent over a book, pen in hand, and deep in thought. It had been many a night since they had been able to get a proper night’s rest, persistently plagued by their own thoughts and feelings.
The days had gone by as usual, fading into one another, yet one thing had made everything change drastically, for better or for worse. It had all started a few weeks ago when AO3 first found a small letter in their locker at school.
This was no ordinary piece of scrap paper. The contents of it shocked AO3 so hard that they fell to their knees, crying in the middle of the hallway, their trembling figure ignored by the students passing by.
Although they reported this clear hate crime, the student council didn’t undergo any procedures to catch the fiend. In fact, they told the poor youngling to take it like a real man and fight this criminal head on. Determination coursing through their veins and scrap paper clutched tightly within their fist, AO3 resolved to follow the given advice. They would make sure the offender knew they were not to be trifled with.
And so, the scheming began…
To find the assailant, they would have to catch them red-handed, and AO3 knew that the first note would not be the last one. They set out at dawn, sprinting to school in their newest flipflops, the rain masking their presence. The pattering of their feet on the wet asphalt was in synch with the war cry they had sinched in their throat. They would not only catch the perpetrator but give them the beating of their life.
Just as the weather began to turn for the better, they finally reached their destination and barged through the unlocked entrance.
Hammer in hand, AO3 stormed through the halls of Beverly Hills High until they finally reached their humble locker, using it as a stepping stool to lodge themselves into the vent directly above it. Although the space might have been small, their broad and toned figure still fit snugly. Keeping a keen eye on their surroundings, like an anaconda ready to strike, they monitored the halls.
After what felt like hours, AO3 noticed a dark figure, shrouded in smoke, making an epic entrance into the hallway. The mysterious individual made a straight line right for AO3’s locker. With a little jump in their strut, their hips swung from side to side, hypnotizing the watcher in the shadows above. Their ashen hair made the lights bounce off it so much that it was almost blinding, like a disco ball.
Could this really have been the person who had sent bomb threats to AO3?
Using their eagle eyes, they immediately discerned that the figure was not just any run-of-the-mill boy in his late teens. No. It was Anonymous.
Last semester, Anonymous and AO3 had shared a physics class, but the only real force AO3 had been able to feel during it was the gravitational pull of the other’s buttocks. They had barely interacted at all, save for a group assignment or two.
What had AO3 ever done to Anonymous to have deserved this treatment? Besides the occasional off-ward glance toward his best features? Did he despise them so fervently to wish upon their death? Was he to be their undoing? There was only one way to find out: they would have to confront him.
Like a superhero from a Marvel movie, they burst through the hatch of the vent, dropping down from their perch and landing on Anonymous, ass first. The hammer went utterly forgotten. With lightning-fast reflexes AO3 repositioned themselves. As soon as the dust settled, the guilty boy found himself pinned underneath AO3’s wide frame, caught between their legs. They both locked eyes, and the immediate sexual tension in the air was electrifying.
“It was you, wasn’t it?” AO3 inquired, their voice raspy and out of breath.
“I have no clue what you’re talking about.”
Appalled by this outright lie, AO3 leapt down from the other’s body and recoiled into a fetal position before uncurling themselves and readying for an attack. Right before their fist could connect with the chiseled jaw of Anonymous, the boy caught it with his right hand, stopping AO3’s fist mere inches from his face. He gazed into their dark orbs, trying to find reason in their bewildered expression, but to no avail.
“DO NOT LIE TO ME, YOU HARLOT! I KNOW IT WAS YOU!” They were lucky that no other students had arrived yet; otherwise the entire school would have heard this outburst.
“You cannot judge a book by its cover. Just because I am emo, does not mean that I am not foremost human too. I had my reasons.” Anonymous’ eyes had a light sheen to them.
“What reason could you have had to send me a bomb threat, huh? Do you think your sad little excuse of a sob story could justify the atrocities you have committed? I could’ve been cheer captain! But ever since Stacy saw me have a mental breakdown in the hall, I’ve been shunned from society, and no one in the cheer team takes me seriously anymore!” AO3 was absolutely shacking with rage, their breath coming way too fast. Their fists were clenched so tightly that their nails soon drew blood, drenching their fingers in it.
“No need to get so heated. My God, you’re sooooo dramatic. It was just a joke”. Although Anonymous tried to sound annoyed, his heart broke at the mere sight of the trembling AO3. Their murderous eyes, the loveliest shade of dark green, were now bloodshot red, and their gaze was so intense that Anonymous had to gulp down the saliva that was beginning to ooze out the side of their mouth.
AO3 used this opportunity to slap both of their hands onto the boy’s shoulders, effectively trapping him within their hold again. Their hands inched dangerously close to his neck.
Although this fit of rage should’ve terrified him, Anonymous could not stop the feeling of excitement that had ever so slowly been creeping up his back. He had never gotten this much attention from a single person before, let alone this gorgeous slab of meat. Therefore, it took everything in him to stop the erection that was now beginning to form, quite literally straining against his pants.
It didn’t take a rocket scientist to pinpoint the exact moment AO3 realized this development as well. Their face contorted into that of utter disgust mixed in with a hint of mild amusement. Anonymous, now having the spontaneous urge to kill himself, broke free of their grip and tried to flee through the entryway, but before he could so much as step one foot into the courtyard, AO3 tackled him from behind, consequently shoving his face into the wet granite.
AO3, having underestimated their strength, started to profusely apologize and flip the now limp body of Anonymous on his back. There they were greeted by his dazzling smile, although it looked a bit goofy since he had lost a few teeth from the impact.
“You know, AO3, I always hoped that you would sweep me off my feet, but I never thought you would do it quite so literally.” As he uttered said words, he began violently coughing up blood.
“Oh, my dear Anonymous, no one has ever been so romantic with me before; I haven’t got the words”. They stared into each other’s sparkling eyes, ignoring the steady stream of blood dripping onto the floor.
Words hung between them, and through the pregnant pause, they both realized something. This whole ordeal wasn’t about their conflict anymore; the focus had shifted to something else entirely.
As if in perfect tandem with the tense emotions, it began to rain anew, thunder roaring and lighting cutting through the clouds.
Then finally, AO3 brought their head to Anonymous’, encasing his face with their long, wet hair, and through the unceasing downpour, they locked their mouths together. The kiss felt like nothing they had ever experienced before. Their lips moved against each other as though they were melding together.
After what seemed like entirely too short, Anonymous reluctantly pulled away, leaving AO3 yearning for more. The kiss had been way too dry and close-lipped, in their opinion.
With tear-stricken eyes, Anonymous gazed up at AO3 through his wet lashes. Striking up every ounce of courage in his body, he finally confessed what had been festering inside his heart all along.
“From the depths of my soul, I truly regret all the rage, terror, and despair that I have caused within you. I just knew deep down that I would never be able to bear my true feelings to you. This frustration soon turned my longing for you into hatred. I beg that you listen to what I have to confess and save your judgment for later...”
AO3 couldn’t believe what their ears were perceiving. Was Anonymous really about to...?
“AO3, I have loved you ever since I laid my eyes on you. No, love is not even enough to describe what I feel for you. Your eyes, your hair, your body, and your many sexual innuendoes. Your presence is electrifying. You have made every moment in physics class the best of my life. I am drunk on you. I could not live with myself if you ever decided not to see me again. You complete me. Unravel me, my dark tempter, but let it be known that only by your hand I shall perish.”
Finished with his rant and expecting rejection, Anonymous instantly shut his eyes and turned his head downward. Steady fingers gently gripped his chin and forced him to gaze back up.
“Although I do not condemn your actions, your words have truly shown me the real you. I will never be able to fully forgive you, but just know that I am ready to give you a second chance. Know that I shall forever be faithful to you as long as you are to me; we are just two peas in a pod, boiled and stirred by the violent whims of the world. They may blanch us and chew us out as much as they want, but they will never rattle the diligence that I harbor for you. I set you free from the guilt eating you alive; after all, we are only human, aren’t we?”
Before Anonymous could offer his reply, AO3 grabbed the sides of his face and brought their lips together yet again. This kiss could not be any more different from their previous one, though, which seemed like child’s play in comparison. Their passion quickly turned what was once a fairly innocent peck into a battle of dominance, one that AO3 was dead set on winning.
Reaching down, their hands each grabbed a handful of Anonymous’ ass. Their strong fingers dug into the plump flesh, squeezing the ever-loving hell out of each cheek. They felt like planets in their grip, and like the adventurer that AO3 was, they were ready to explore them.
Distracted by the other’s ministrations, Anonymous was unable to stop AO3’s barrage into their mouth. He instantly succumbed to the attack and hungrily sucked in their tongue. Their mouths and tongues slid against each other, entangled in a dance only they knew. Fearing that they were about to be caught, as the clock signaled the fast-approaching arrival of the other students, AO3 ripped themselves away from the boy’s lip lock. A string of saliva connecting their mouths before falling to the ground.
Putting their mouth right up to Anonymous’ ear, they whispered the words that would undo his entire being and composure, or at least what was left of it.
“How about...we take this somewhere else?”
“For you, my love, I would follow you to the end of the world.” Came the heartfelt reply.
“Well, why don’t you lead the way?”
Not able to deny such a demanding and yet tempting request, Anonymous firmly took hold of one of AO3’s hands. Slowly but surely leading them to the very same janitor’s closet that they had had their tumble in front of. With the sun shining behind them, they made their way to where it all began, with the promise of a whole new kind of battle awaiting both of them.
“It would be my pleasure.”