Ivo doesn't interact with the men in Rio's dorm. Although they try to make conversation with him, he isn't friendly, and walks away from people in the middle of sentences. He's been horny for weeks. There's no reason why sexual submission should be so enticing. When the game ends and the spectators begin to file out, Ivo waits for a bus. This always takes longer than it should. He can see the lights of the buses approaching, and hear their tires on the road, but can't tell which bus is which without being told.
The doors to the college are unlocked. The hallways are dark, empty, it's only ten at night. Most of the students who live on campus are in their dorms by now. Rio always stays up late, surviving on coffee and energy drinks. Ivo hates energy drinks. The only thing he drinks is iced coffee. The dorm room is messy and disarrayed, with clothing and clutter all over the floor, so that Ivo steps on it when he walks. "Hey, Four-Eyes. Miss me?" Rio knows he's hot, and this is infuriating.
"You wish, dipshit." Rio thinks he's so cool, fitting in easily and never struggling with anything a day in his life. The guy even got a scholarship to college, spending his teenage years with doctors for parents while Ivo froze to death on the street. It isn't Rio's fault he's had an easy life. But it isn't fair. Life isn't fair, and Ivo isn't bitter.
"Uh huh. That's why you're looking at me like you want to jump my bones."
When he was fifteen, Ivo lost his virginity in a motel room, to a much older man, after meeting him online. The man was in his thirties, and made Ivo feel special by buying him gifts and taking him on vacations, but this was all a secret. Ivo is old enough now to realize the truth behind this relationship. As a teenager, like all teenagers, he was just desperate for validation.
"Shut the fuck up." His dick hurts. The cage is plastic and tight, and gets in the way when he tries to jerk off. This is the point of wearing it, but he's been frustrated for days, and it leaves him irritable. When Rio touches his arm, he nearly jumps out of his skin.
"Strip. Now." He lets Ivo go, abruptly, turning to the side table by the couch. When he checks on the boy, who hasn't moved, he snarls. "Did I stutter, bitch? Strip before I get the paddle out." Rio can be aggressive when he's horny. Nobody is obligated to play along. Rio does whatever he wants, and Ivo never complains.
Ivo begins to undress, letting his clothes fall to the floor by his feet, nearly bumping his glasses off his face. "Good boy." After removing his jeans, Rio grabs him, pins him against a wall.
Ivo began to question himself when he was thirteen. It was a long process, and Ivo remembers lying to himself for months, even years afterwards. Now he realizes how stupid that was. He supposes there had always been hints at his sexuality, from the time he was a little boy. He's always been into wolves. Still, he's never had a relationship: not a proper one, nothing outside of random hook-ups and make outs. Ivo has fucked a lot of people. If you called him a slut, he probably wouldn't disagree.
He could change his mind anytime. He could opt out altogether by saying one short word. He never does. He lets Rio do whatever he wants, and there's no reason why. He's annoying and pushy. Ivo trusts absolutely no one except for him. Rio touches his dick, pinning his wrists against the wall easily with one hand, holding the key to the cage in the other. "Are you ready to cum now, whore?" Knowing him, it isn't this easy. "I don't know if I've kept you waiting long enough." Begging is humiliating. Humiliation is arousing, and there's no telling why. He hated Rio: his obnoxious laugh and aggravating attitude. He's shouted at him multiple times in frustration, and he always comes back. Nobody ever comes back.
"Please."
The living spaces are always loud. Everybody needs to be the center of attention. Rio unlocks the cage, but doesn't remove it. "What do you want?"
