Hurt Me Like You Mean It [BL]-Chapter 24: The business department(3)

Chapter 24: Chapter 24: The business department(3)
Lance sighed, totally done with Trevor.
"So what do you want from me exactly Trevor? To humiliate me? Fuck me? Or both? You sure are handsy for a ’straight’ man."
Trevor frowned, freezing slightly after hearing what Lance said.
"Aren’t you disgusted? Don’t gays disgust you? So why the fuck are you acting like one and why the hell are you touching me? You’re a bully, fucking act like one and bully me. Don’t touch me."
-_-
"Don’t tell me what to do, acting nonchalantly after being fucked by so many people."
-_-
Lance frowned what was he so bitter about? Why did he care so much about the people he had slept with?
"And? That’s my business, not yours. Or are you doing this because you like me, Trevor? If that’s the case, you need to stop. You and the others didn’t care about my innocence; you threw stones and labels, stigmatizing me without a second thought. And now you’re complaining? Are you kidding me? What did I ever do to you? You disliked me for being popular, for the fame that I never asked for. You guys ruined my life, and now you’re pretending to be the victim? Nah, that’s not gonna fly. Own up to your actions, Trevor..."
Trevor’s jaw clenched.
For a second, just a split second, he looked like a kid caught doing something shameful.
Then the ugly bravado snapped back into place.
"Shut up," he muttered, grabbing Lance’s collar again, but his grip wasn’t as steady as before.
"You think you know everything, huh?"
Lance scoffed. "I know when someone’s projecting."
Trevor slammed him against the shelving, but it wasn’t with the same anger as before.
It was messy and confused.
His hands hovered at Lance’s waist again, hesitating then gripping as if he hated himself for doing it.
"Stop touching me.." Lance snapped, swatting Trevor’s hand away. "If you’re going to hit me, hit me. Don’t— don’t do... this."
Trevor’s nostrils flared.
He stepped back only an inch, breathing hard.
"You ruined everything," he said suddenly.
Lance blinked. "How? By existing?"
"No." Trevor’s voice cracked barely noticeable, but it did. "By being.. by being you. Everyone liked you. Everyone wanted you. And you didn’t even try."
Ah.
There it was.
Lance’s eyes widened a little. "...You bullied me because you were jealous?"
Trevor’s glare turned vicious, defensive, and panicky.
"Don’t twist my words. I don’t like you. I don’t.."
"Then why do you look at me like that?" Lance shot back. "Why are you touching me like that? Why did you make my life hell just to get close to me in the most disgusting way possible?"
Trevor’s breath hitched, the truth landed way too close.
"I hated seeing people with you..." Trevor muttered. "Hated hearing about it. I hate thinking about it. It made me.." He cut himself off, fists trembling. "You made me feel insane."
Lance laughed once, it was humorless.
"So your solution was to ruin my reputation? Call me a homewrecker? A slut? A liar? A teacher’s pet?" He stepped forward, narrowing the space. "You destroyed my life because you couldn’t deal with your own feelings."
Trevor’s breathing grew sharper, angrier but wasn’t at Lance.
"You don’t understand.." Trevor said quietly. "You were supposed to disappear forever. Why the fuck did you come back?"
"Because I refuse to live scared.." Lance said. "Not of you. Not of anyone."
Trevor stared at him.
And for the first time, he wasn’t the bully.
He was just a boy who had no idea what to do with the mess inside him.
"...I wish I hated you more.." Trevor whispered.
Lance’s expression froze.
That was the last thing he needed to hear.
"Too late for that.." Lance replied coldly. "Whatever it is you think you want, it’s not happening. Not ever."
Trevor’s eyes darkened, not with lust this time, but with a wounded, lashing-out anger.
He grabbed Lance’s wrist suddenly, voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.
"You think you can talk to me like that and walk out?"
Before Lance could answer,
the lock on the storage door clicked.
Both of them froze.
A familiar voice spoke from the other side, ice-cold and amused.
"Lance. Why is there another man next to you?"
Lance’s eyes widened, why the hell was Ansel here?!
And he did not sound happy.
He jerked his wrist away from Trevor, glaring hard at him.
’Don’t say a word. Don’t make this worse.’
Trevor, for once, kept quiet. He could tell the person at the other side of the door had some authority.
Ansel didn’t push the door open.
Didn’t barge in shouting.
He simply let the silence suffocate the room.
"Open the door," he said at last, still disturbingly calm.
"Or I’ll break it."
Lance stepped forward quickly, before Trevor could do something stupid.
"I’ve got it," Lance called back, trying to keep his voice neutral. "Give me a sec."
A pause. Then, quietly.
"...You have three seconds."
Lance froze slightly, he was scared. Scared for his own life, it’s not like he has slept with Trevor or kissed him.
But seeing Ansel here in his college, he wasn’t confident he’d go scot free.
Trevor whispered, panic slipping in, "Who the hell is that?"
Lance hissed back, "Someone worse than you. So shut up."
He grabbed the doorknob, only for the metal to jerk violently in his hand.
CLACK
The door swung open with a force Trevor definitely couldn’t have resisted.
And there he stood.
Ansel.
With an unbothered,unreadable expression.
But the energy around him felt like a storm warning.
His eyes flicked over Trevor once,
just once, and Trevor flinched like he’d been slapped.
Then Ansel’s gaze shifted to Lance.
And that was somehow worse.
"Why," Ansel asked softly, "were you locked in a room with him?"
Lance opened his mouth to speak but someone beat him to it.
Trevor stepped forward, puffing up defensively: "It’s none of your busi—"
"Shut up, I wasn’t talking to you. I asked Lance a question. Why the fucking hell is he locked in a storage room with a fucker.."