Chapter 25: Chapter 25: Trigger Warning(1)
Lance gulped, he wasn’t really having an easy day today.
"We weren’t doing anything. He’s my bully and he dragged me in here to beat me up.."
That was his honest truth, he really did think Trevor dragged him in here to beat him up, he couldn’t tell Ansel that Trevor had other agendas.
Ansel stared at Lance for a long, heavy second.
Then his attention slid back to Trevor.
Slowly.
Trevor stiffened, his instinct screaming before his brain even caught up.
Ansel stepped into the room fully, closing the door behind him with a soft click that somehow felt louder than a gunshot.
"Dragged you.." Ansel repeated lightly. "To beat you up."
Trevor swallowed. "Look, man...whoever you are...this is between us. Don’t..."
"Between you?"
Ansel’s voice dropped enough to make Trevor’s knees falter.
"No. Nothing is between you and him."
Trevor bristled, but it was fake, a last scrap of bravado.
"And who exactly are you?"
Ansel smiled. It wasn’t a friendly one.
"I.." he said, "...am the person who will decide whether you walk out of this room or crawl."
Trevor paled visibly.
Lance immediately stepped between them, hands up.
"Ansel. Stop. He didn’t hit me, okay? He barely did anything. It’s fine.."
Ansel’s gaze snapped to him.
"Does it look.." Ansel said quietly, "like I care about your definition of fine?"
Lance opened his mouth but Ansel had already turned toward Trevor again.
He didn’t touch him.
Didn’t even raise his voice.
He simply stepped forward.
And trevor stepped back.
But the shelving was behind him, leaving him with nowhere to run.
"Did you lay a hand on him?" Ansel asked.
Trevor shook his head quickly. "N-No, not really, I mean—"
"Not really," Ansel echoed. "So you did."
Ansel leaned in slowly, face expressionless.
"Touch him again..." he murmured, "and I’ll break every finger you used."
Trevor’s breath stuttered. "W-What the hell is wrong with you?!"
Ansel tilted his head just slightly.
"Try me."
Trevor flinched so hard he nearly tripped.
He shoved past Lance and practically sprinted out of the room.
The door slammed behind him.
Silence.
Then:
"Lance."
Lance stiffened.
Ansel always used that voice when he was holding something dangerous back.
"You let another man put his hands on you."
Lance snapped immediately, "I didn’t let him—!"
But Ansel didn’t even blink.
His jaw was locked, eyes razor-sharp, voice deeper than before, the way it got when he was trying very hard not to break something.
"You were in a locked room," Ansel said, stepping closer, "with a man touching you."
"It wasn’t like that—"
"You didn’t stop him."
"I DID!" Lance hissed. "I tried to leave, he shoved me in, he locked the door, what part of that sounds like I wanted anything?!"
Ansel’s eyes flickered, something dark twisting under his expression.
He was furious.
Furious enough that the air around him felt tight, as if the walls themselves were waiting for his signal to collapse.
"You’re lying.." Ansel said quietly.
Lance’s breath hitched. "I’m not."
"You’re lying.." Ansel repeated, taking another step, "because you think I will believe whatever pathetic excuse you give me."
Lance’s heart dropped.
He wasn’t being listened to, he was being judged.
And Ansel wasn’t hiding it.
"You broke the contract.." Ansel said, voice dangerously low. "You let another man close. You let him touch you. You hid it from me."
"ANSEL, I didn’t—!"
Ansel grabbed his arm.
It wasn’t violent but with a grip firm enough that Lance felt the warning in his bones.
"We’re leaving.." Ansel said. "Right now."
Lance yanked his arm, but Ansel’s hold only tightened.
"I said it wasn’t what you think!"
"And I said.." Ansel cut him off, "that you will not argue with me."
He pulled Lance toward the door, ignoring the startled students in the hallway as they passed, ignoring Lance trying to twist out of his grip.
"Let go— Ansel, stop, listen to me—!"
"No."
His anger was cold, focused, the kind that destroyed things neatly instead of explosively.
He dragged Lance across campus, straight toward the parking area.
"You’re punishing me for something I didn’t do!" Lance snapped, breathless.
Ansel didn’t turn around.
"You will be punished.." he said, "because you allowed a situation that should never have existed."
Lance’s stomach twisted.
"Ansel...please.. just stop for one second..."
Ansel finally did.
He stopped walking.
But he didn’t look at Lance.
He stood perfectly still, shoulders tense, breath slow and tightly controlled as if every inhale was a battle not to explode.
When he finally spoke, his voice was low.
"Do you think," he murmured, "I enjoy feeling like this?"
Lance froze.
Ansel turned his head slightly, not enough to meet Lance’s eyes, just enough that Lance could see the fury simmering beneath the surface.
"Do you think I like imagining someone else touching what’s mine?"
Lance’s breath caught.
"I’m not... I never agreed to be.."
"You did..." Ansel said. "You did the moment you signed that contract and let me into your life."
Lance stared at him, stunned, angry, confused and exhausted.
"You’re being unreasonable.." Lance muttered.
Ansel finally lifted his eyes to him.
And that was worse.
Because his eyes weren’t cold anymore, they were burning.
"I’m past unreasonable.." he said. "And you’re coming with me before I do something unfortunate on school grounds."
He opened the car door, his jaw tight.. "Get in the damn car Lance, your punishment awaits.."
{TRIGGER WARNING. VIOLENT SCENES APPROACHING}
Lance got into the back seat, Ansel following behind him.
He guessed his punishment was going to be Sex, but he doubt it’d be gentle, he bit his lips and braced himself in impact.
"Take off your clothes. Every single damn thing. Even your shoes.."
Lance obeyed, stripping himself bare in front of Ansel.
Who’s eyes trailed over him like a hawk.
"Come here.."
Lance obeyed, his heart pounding in his chest as he slid across the backseat toward Ansel, the cool leather sticking to his bare skin.
The air in the car was thick with tension, the dim light from the parking lot casting shadows that made
Ansel’s face look even more menacing.
He sat there, fully clothed, his eyes raking over Lance’s naked body like a predator sizing up its prey.
There was no tenderness in his gaze, only raw, unfiltered possession.