Hale grinned at me, reaching out to touch my hair. I swatted his hand away. "So is the lucky guy who's got my big brother's panties in a twist cute?"
"First of all, get off my desk," I said through gritted teeth. He was sitting on my desk in a position that could only remind me of Madden. "Second of all, there's no lucky guy."
My younger brother, Hale, had chosen today to visit me and had managed to squeeze out all the information about Madden as he possibly could. "He's cute, isn't he? Do you have a picture?"
I shot him a glare. "Why the hell would I have a picture of him? That's creepy."
He snorts. "Says the man over a decade older than him who fucked one of his students."
He had a point. It was so fucked up. And yet, he didn't seem to mind. Actually, the entire thing was his choice. Why he made such a dumb choice, I had no clue. But at the end of the day, I was apparently unable to keep my hands off of him. It was like something about him just took away all my self-control. "Do you like him?"
I rolled my eyes. "No." The idea of that was just absolutely ridiculous. Madden was a pretty face with a mouth that wasn't good at anything other than sucking cock. He did however talk. A lot.
"Really?" he says skeptically, "Then why are you being so nice to him?"
Nice? I was aware that my brother had no idea what I was doing to him behind closed doors but nice was definitely not the word I would use. But, I will admit, I wasn't nearly as rude to him as before. That, I told myself, was factored into the guilt to felt towards him letting me put my filthy hands on his perfect skin.
"I don't," I said flatly.
A knock sounded at my office. "Professor," a familiar voice calls and I internally groan.
Hale arches a brow at me. "Is that him?"
"No," I mutter. Yes.
"Come in," he calls, smiling. The door opens and I straightened, leaning back into my chair.
Surely enough, Madden walks in, looking a little less smiley than usual. His smile, however, completely drops when he sees Hale on my desk.
"Sylar," I greet dryly. "What can I do for you?"
He tilts his head, a small mischievous smile playing at his lips. The look both made me a scowl and made me want to kiss that smile off of his face. "There's plenty you could do for me. For starters, I would like to walk into your office where there's not another guy. Second of all, I would like you to bend me over-"
"Sylar," I said coldly, cutting him off. He was too damn good at getting under my skin. I glared at him.
Hale was overjoyed. "Oh, please finish that sentence."
Madden smirks at me, eyes challenging. Oh, he was going to pay for that later. "Who's this?" he asks, looking a bit bothered.
"Not relevant," I snapped.
"I'm Hale, Avery's brother. And you have no clue how pleased I am to meet you." Hale stuck out his hand.
Madden relaxed a bit, lightly taking his hand with his fingertips. I hated this. "I'm Madden."
"Really?" Hale asks, turning to me. I scowled.
"Brothers?" Madden murmured. "You don't look alike."
We didn't. Hale was, out of my four brothers, the only blonde. He had blonde hair, blue eyes, and everything that screamed your typical movie star good looks. He was also a huge flirt and I knew I was not going to like what was about to happen.
"He's adopted," I replied, crossing my arms over my chest and leaning back against my chair.
He shot me a glare. "I got the attractive genes from our parents and he got the brains."
It was true that he got the attractive genes. And it came to little comfort that I was smarter than him. This was a nightmare. Madden eyes my brother up and down shamelessly in a way that made me annoyed for some reason. My lips curled with irritation and I glowered.
"I see," Madden said with an easy smile. He had a natural look that demanded the attention of every person that laid eyes on him. It wasn't just a come-hither look, but his features, down to the way his eyes sparkled when he smiled and the curve of his lips just screamed how fuckable he was. "And are you single?"
"Actually, I am," Hale replies, winking at me.
"Sylar, say what you want and get out of my office," I sneered.
He studied my face for a few seconds before wetting his lips. "Um...I wasn't going to say anything. But you seem busy, so I'll leave." My eyes dart down to his tongue as he runs it across his mouth, making it slick and shiny. Fuck.
He wasn't going to say anything. I knew full well what that meant. Madden for the past few weeks had apparently discovered new and more ways to either annoy me or turn me on. It was like heaven and hell tied in a pretty fucking package.
He gives me one last look that I would definitely be thinking about before backing out of the door. After he leaves, Hale looked at me expectantly. "He's fucking gorgeous. How did that happen?"
I make a face, unhappy with his words. "Why are you here, anyway? Are you just here to harass me about my students?"
Hale smiles sheepishly. "Fine. Mom sent me."
Of course, she did. My parents had been reaching out to me, through phone, mail, and apparently now my brothers to try to get me to come to dinner with them at the Castien Manor. For 5 years now.
It was complicated.
"I'm not going to go."
"Okay," Hale said. "It's this Saturday. Please. Just think about it, Avery."
I rolled my eyes. Hale didn't know. "No."
"They really want to see you," he said gently.
I pursed my lips. "Hale-"
"What do you have to lose?"
I made a face. "That's not convincing."
"You have to let some things go," he tells me. I winced. Let some things go?
I had 4 brothers. And my parents raised 5 gay sons. Raised might be a strong word, but sure. When we were kids, they would literally hire people who were paid to turn your kids straight. To their credit, they didn't kick us out of the house. They couldn't disown us or they'd have no one to put in their will, and that scared them more than the trauma they put their sons through.
What I didn't find out until I had already moved out was that if it was worse for me, it was so, so much worse for my older brother.
I struggled to believe that they've just done a magical 360 on their perspectives and learned to accept our sexualities and our life choices.
"You don't know anything," I said quietly.
"You'll have to forgive them one day," he replied. "We all have."
Madden whimpers, his entire body curling inwards against me. He hid his face against my chest, seeking comfort and care and...affection.
I gently stroke his hair, lightly pressing him against my torso. He wasn't talking or responding right now. Subspace was different for every person so I had no idea what was happening in his mind at the moment. I opened my mouth to say something, but I couldn't quite choose my words.
I was past the point of worrying if I hurt him now. Because yeah. I did. That was obvious. I was just waiting for him to snap. And that wasn't happening. But as much as he annoyed me by being impossible for me to resist and just so annoying in general, I didn't want to break him.
A wave of fondness washed over me and I hesitated at the sight before me. He always looked so pretty with my marks all over him. A love bite webbed over the side of his neck, a heavy shade of red. Smaller bruises, fingerprints, spread across his neck and down to his collarbones. Harsh contrasting purple spots crept around his hips and thighs, appearing more brightly against his ivory skin. His upper arms were struck with the prints of where I had held him, his entire body bending to me with that grasp alone. The marks sent a strong cut of possessiveness through me.
But he wasn't mine. I couldn't have him.
I scowled. I needed to keep myself at least somewhat distanced from him. He was literally just a boy too pretty for his own good that was sleeping with his professor for a passing grade. Fuck knows how many others he had done the exact same thing with.
The thought made my vision blank red. I hated that thought.
"Professor," he whispers. His voice was hoarse from screaming and he lifted his head to face me, lips coated and wet, and eyes no longer glassed over. I somehow had mixed feelings with him still calling me Professor. It was like a constant reminder that he was a student. Stu-dent. Nothing was going to happen. And I didn't want anything to happen.
But the way he said it. Like plea. Like with.that word alone, he was begging me to fuck him until that was the only word he could say.
"You're a dick." Wow. Blunt. That was the other thing about Madden. He was never scared to anger me. Half of the time, I swear he was trying to anger me. It was a bit of an endearingly admirable quality. He wasn't scared.
My lips twitch in amusement. "Why's that?"
Madden's fingers were warm, pressing against my chest, fingers fanned out. He smiled lightly. "Because you told me not to call you that."
I blink several times. Then, I realized what he was talking about. I smirked. "Brat."
He sits up slowly, a quiet whine leaving his lips as he shifts, moving so he was straddling my lap. To my surprise, his arms looped around my neck and he pulls me to him. His mouth connects with mine and he kissed me.
I reciprocated despite him catching me off guard, slipping my fingers into his hair, and moving forward. Pressing him backward into my hand, I cradled his head pushing harshly against his lips.
Madden makes a small noise, wrapping his legs around my waist. He seemed to pull me harder against him but our bodies were already right up against each other. "Please," he murmured.
"You can't be serious," I mumbled against his lips. "Again?"
He grinned. "What? Too tired?"
I growled at the challenge, crashing my lips back down on his. "Not a chance."