#acheforit

[16] for hair prompts. Pulling Collie's hair, Michael forced him to face forward. "You think I didn't see you yesterday?" There, stuck firmly on their fridge by magnets, were two photos. One had Collie, clearly delirious with heat, leaning against a man at the train station whilst a woman slid her hands beneath his shirt. The other-- and this one Michael hated the most-- had that same man kissing Collie's parted, non-responsive mouth. "Yeah," he said, "I saved you from these perverts. But not before you fucking betrayed me." The grip in Collie's hair tightened. The hand curled around his wrists squeezed, forcing bone to rub together. "I told you not to go into class yesterday. I told you, didn't I? Where the fuck would you be now if I didn't beat the shit out of those alphas, huh?"

It doesn't occur to him that Michael had taken the time to get the pictures before stepping in, nor does it occur to him that he'd been there to take the pictures at all. All he focuses on is the fact that he remembers none of this, and he feels so stupid. He'd been so certain he could make it through the day, that he could take the test he'd been studying so hard for without problem.

But he looks at the way the woman's hands are beneath his shirt with such crude purpose- Christ, did she play with his fucking nipples in front of everyone?- and the way the man's defiling his mouth without any thought or hesitation.

Tears brim his eyes, mostly from the dirty, disgusting feeling beginning to overwhelm him.

There's a soft, pained sound as Michael tightens his hold. Though, there's no objection to the pain.

Collin deserves it, after all.