“Why would we?” Vlad bristled. “Do I look like that petty, childish jackass clinging to his glory days in secondary school?”
Sebastian grinned. “You are really offended. You’re actually offended to be compared to him. Oh my God, this is adorable!” He lifted a hand and patted Vlad on the cheek again, amusement all over his face. “Don’t worry, your dick is bigger—”
Vlad grabbed Sebastian’s wrist.
They both went still at the contact, Vlad’s fingers gripping Sebastian’s wrist in a way that was reminiscent of what had happened last night. An image of himself grabbing Sebastian’s wrists and shoving him against the restroom door flashed through Vlad’s mind. He licked his dry lips.
Sebastian swallowed and whispered, “Let go.”
Vlad didn’t.
“Let go,” Sebastian said again, something like desperation crossing his face.
He should. He fucking should.
Vlad looked down at Sebastian’s parted lips. The stylist had put something on them and they looked even redder than usual, a stark contrast to Sebastian’s pale skin.
Sebastian moistened them with the tip of his tongue. “Let go,” he said again, his bottom lip trembling.
Vlad had to taste it. He needed to. The force of that need was beyond anything he’d ever felt—he was fucking shaking with it—and he was helpless to stop himself as he surged forward to suck on that luscious lip.
“You’re so beautiful,” he heard himself mutter, kissing those lips again and again. He sounded drunk. He felt drunk.
Sebastian let out a small whine before freezing and shoving him away.
They stared at each other, both out of breath and flushed.
“What the hell are you playing at?” Sebastian all but hissed, looking beyond furious. “What happened to ‘I’m not a faggot’?” He shook his head. “You know what? Don’t answer that—it doesn’t matter, I don’t care. I’m not dealing with that bullshit again. I’m done being fucked over by ‘straight’ assholes who can’t keep their cocks out of my mouth. Go find some poor woman to fuck and be miserable with—and keep your bloody hands off me.” Huffing, Sebastian strode away, quickly disappearing around the corner.
Vlad exhaled through his teeth, turned, and punched the wall. It failed to make him feel better—or less confused.
He stood there for a while, trying to get a grip on his body and make sense of what the hell he was doing.
A muffled scream broke the air and made his blood freeze.
And then he was running.
Chapter 13
They attacked him the moment Sebastian entered the changing room. A blow to his temple made him stumble and fall, his vision swimming and his eyes moistening from the blinding pain.
“What a pansy,” said a man above him before kicking him hard in the stomach. Sebastian curled into a fetal position, trying to protect his head as kicks rained down on him from all directions. There were three of them, he realized distantly through the fog of pain. One of them shoved a rag inside Sebastian’s mouth, making him gag.
Do something, he told his stupid body, but it was paralyzed with shock and an onslaught of memories, as though he was sixteen once again and it was Mike and his friends “teaching the faggot a lesson” while everyone just watched. No one had helped him then and no one would help him now.
“Enough,” one of them said. “Knock him out. We need to get him out of here.”
That finally broke whatever spell he had been under. No, he wasn’t going down without a fight, dammit. Sebastian rolled onto his back and kicked one of them in the crotch, hard. The man howled before his buddy growled at him to shut up and delivered another punch to Sebastian’s head that almost made him black out. They grabbed him and hauled him toward the open window.
Sebastian wasn’t sure what happened next. His ears were still ringing from the punch, his head was pounding, his whole body was aching as hell, so he didn’t register immediately when the hands on him disappeared. There was the sound of flesh hitting flesh, accompanied by grunts and sounds of pain.
When the nausea and pain subsided and Sebastian was finally able to focus his gaze on what was happening, he saw Vlad’s massive fist deliver a blow to the man’s head, knocking him out. The other two were already on the floor.
Sebastian blinked dazedly, watching Vlad strip the men’s belts off them, swiftly tie them up, and gag them with their own shirts.
Finally, Vlad turned and looked at him, studying him from head to toe. Annoyingly, he looked fucking impeccable in his black suit and didn’t even seem out of breath. It shouldn’t have been hot.
Sebastian pulled the gag out of his mouth and crossed his arms over his chest, feeling inadequate and embarrassed for the bruises he probably sported. It was so dumb. He had no reason to be embarrassed. He didn’t bodyguard people for a living, and he couldn’t be expected to protect himself against three men even if he hadn’t been opposed to violence on principle.