The Submissive Assassin

18 - Long History

Nate never had something of the sort happen to him before.

His mind was unable to stop vividly repaying the memories of the car; the way each of Dante's muscles shifted with every of his movements, his eyes rolling backwards and how he moaned, breathing faster and faster as he quickened his pace. Even his disheveled hair in a bun was a sight Nate could see in his head, the dangling chain around his neck as he leaned forward, meeting Nate's gaze. Oddly enough, the way his eyes had stared back at Nate, it hadn't seemed to be only lust.

Nate slammed his palm against his forehead, turning away from the mirror in attempts to regain his focus. But he couldn't, whatever he did that morning, it reminded him of Dante. When he poured himself a cup of water, the droplets near the end made him remember the droplets of sweat that lingered across Dante's toned physique. Or even brushing his teeth made him remember how Dante had seductively bit Nate's bottom lip while pulling away from the kiss.

And the worse part was that Nate wanted more, he wanted to experience that attraction again, an intimacy he never even thought could be possible. It angered him since the only reason he felt this way was because Dante had forced him to be his male dominance, but now everywhere he looked reminded of Dante. He went into his closet in the morning and his grey sweater reminded him of Dante's eyes, or red toothbrush reminded him of how pink Dante's face had gotten, sweat drops on the tip of his chin and the edge of his forehead. Anything that crossed his vision had some form of connection to Dante and it made him dump the rest of his cereal bowl into the sink.

The strangest thing was how dominant Dante had been, as if it was part of his nature; Nate wasn't able to pull away from his grasp, Dante much stronger than him and dictating every single motion without letting Nate move an inch. His motions circulated then lifted and descended, then he quickened his pace then slowed down, a bumpy rollercoaster that made Nate unable to predict what would happen next.

He had been terribly stuck in his own vivid imagination that he hadn't even heard the door open and the footsteps leading to the kitchen, where he stood. "I'm guessing you had a good night?" Her voice startled him, exhaling a long sigh when he realized it was only her—she had said she would come by today. "I wanted to check in on you," Tyler said, leaning her elbows on the counter. "My brother treat you alright?" After a quick glance at his face, she added, "From those bruises, I bet not—"

"We had sex." His breath had been shaky and when he saw Tyler's eyes widen, he sent his fingers through his disheveled hair. He wasn't sure why he admitted that, but he had to speak on it or else it would bottle his mind to explosion.

Tyler tilted her head to the side after a snort. "I know, Raphael told me." When she saw Nate's eyes lift with his brows furrowed, she shrugged her shoulders. "He keeps me updated on my brother's life and vice versa."

"Did he tell you anything else?"

"That you fought and then started making out and that it was weird." At least she was being honest but Nate did grow a little flustered hearing her say these things out loud. Besides, he had completely forgotten of Raphael's presence before even being intimate with Dante and he wished he had stopped for a second to ask Raphael if it was alright for them to...argh, it feels awkward even thinking of asking that.

"If you're worried about Raphael hating you, he doesn't," she laughed with a quirky smile, slamming her palm against his shoulder. "He thought it was cute how much Dante fancies you."

"Can we speak on something else?" he hissed, narrowing his eyes for a second and seeing her raise her hands in retreat.

"There is one thing I should mention," she cleared her throat, following him outside the door and towards the elevator. "Andrew asked for your number last night and I gave it to him. You guys seemed to have hit it off."

"Right until your brother came."

"He wasn't even supposed to be there," she waved her hand, shaking her head. "Trust me, that'll never happen again."

***

Nate leaned his forehead against the table, the chatters not enough for him to ignore his mind replaying to vivid sights of Dante. Soon enough, Tyler joined him at the lunch table and began unwrapping her sandwich, glancing around the room and curling her lip at the noise. Then, they heard a squeaky noise from a microphone echoing across the cafeteria, causing a few students to groan and cover their ears before they realized who had the microphone in her hands.

It was the captain of the softball player, Madeline, who was very popular amongst the school. She was the stereotypical high school fantasy; blond hair, blue eyes, slim waist, tan skin and toned long legs. She had been passed around by the guys on the baseball team but that reputation wasn't one she claimed.

"Attention all." She clapped her hands before waving one, twirling around and stepping onto one of the cafeteria tables to get everyone's attention. Eventually, the chatter settled into silence.

"I'm Madeline and I will be organizing homecoming this year. Because the fall season is fast approaching, after speaking with student council, we decided to have it done a little earlier, in two weeks. I will also be hosting the after party—the homecoming king and queen will be announced before the football game that day and then we will celebrate afterwards. Let me know if any of you have any questions!"

"Do you want to go to homecoming with me?" Tyler wiggled her brows, seeing the response from Nate was to roll his eyes. However, before they could laugh any further, she breathed, "Oh no." The blond boy was laughing with his pals while making his way to their table, throwing a few glances to Tyler and Nate to make sure they didn't leave.

Jake patted Nate's back, making him cringe while shuffling away as Jake took a seat beside him. He was not the brightest kid to notice the signs and not be oblivious to everything; even the grimace Tyler made wasn't enough to make him leave. "Where were we on our last discussion?"

"We were nowhere," Nate sighed, leaning his head against his hand, his elbow sluggishly on the table. "I am not in the mood."

"You piece of—" Jake inhaled a sharp breath, not wanting to disrespect him or else he could tell Dante and Dante would punish him. If he was Dante's prey then nobody else could lay a hand on him, nor say anything negative that could hurt his feelings or else he could even have a finger cut off. He forced a smile, exhaling a shaky breath through his gritted teeth and gripping the back of Nate's neck, not tight enough for it to hurt. "Tell me who you are to Dante."

"He's a friend, Jake. Now leave us alone," Tyler spat harshly, annoyed by his presence.

Jake folded his arms. "I'm Dante's number one. He even told me that."

Tyler muttered under her breath, "From his young crew."

"That aside, he would never put his hands on me unless I had done something awful." He motioned towards Nate. "Beating up the kid shouldn't have landed me a—"

"What is this brat doing here?"

When Nate heard this new voice, sombrely deep but mysterious, with a little raspiness that made all his nerves begin to tumble, he felt one of his heart beats pound against his chest. He had never heard such tone before, a slight sting of danger and poisonous venom, but also layered underneath with a bit of warmth for the ones he protected.

When Nate turned around to face him, he gulp at the height of this man, his breath falling stuck in his throat. As if the intimidation wasn't enough, it didn't help that he was also jacked, wearing a black long sleeve, carrying a gallon water bottle and a huge duffel bag. His fingers were lengthy and coarse, decorated with silver rings that made him ten times more attractive and Nate was unable to look elsewhere. The best part was his hair; it was trimmed into a mullet with the top of his black hair disheveled in every direction. He had to cut it that way or else one wouldn't be able to see the tattoo that went for the side of his head all the way to his collarbone, the rest hidden underneath his long sleeve.

Nate had never seen these type of irises before, almost appeared a roughened brown, appearing to be a darker burgundy in different angles of light. His eyes were sharp at the edge, slim and slightly slanted but naturally narrowed in a way that it make his stare threatening to its finest. When Jake had seen Dante, it had been alarming but he wasn't entirely scared. But his reaction to seeing this guy was even more intriguing—Jake couldn't even speak, his tongue suddenly dry, continuously stammering but no voice released from his chords.

When the guy slammed his water bottle onto the table harshly without saying anything else, Jake bolted out of the seat and ran out the cafeteria without glancing backwards.

Tyler had been staring at the door where he ran before exhaling a chuckle. "I'm glad you're back, he won't be bothering us anymore."

"Who's that guy?"

When Tyler saw his eyes divert to Nate who felt his breathing shortening, she quickly waved her hand in front of his face to break their locked gaze. "Relax, he's my friend. His name's Nate."

"Oh." He threw himself down beside Nate, the end of his lips lifting slightly—that was his smile. "Hi." He then looked down. "I-I'm...I'm Jules."

Nate glanced away for a second, furrowing his brows. Did he just...he faced him for a second and realized that his cheeks were growing a slight pink, almost as if he was flustered or timid. That made Nate have to hold back a chuckle; this big guy is shy?

Tyler rolled her eyes. "I know what you're thinking; he's not shy." She reached for his chin and lifted his head, pushing it to face Nate and Nate finally realized what it was. "He's high and he doesn't know how new people will react to that, that's why he gets all weird."

Jules scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, his droopy bold red eyes staring back at Nate and finally, his smile lengthened to finally show teeth. He almost had a joker smile, pointy at each end and completely stretched out, and it was one of the hottest things Nate had ever witnessed.

This man was gorgeous.

"Yeah, I'm pretty high," he laughed.

Tyler pointed to him while eyeing Nate. "I told you he was real." She nodded her head towards Nate while then staring at Jules. "He thought I had no friends and I made one up."

"You definitely didn't make him seem real," Nate commented, his palms on the table while he leaned his chin onto it.

Jules chuckled for a second before finally focusing on what he wanted to ask. "Why is Jake hanging around you guys like that?"

"He's not," Tyler hissed at the thought of him while shaking her head. "He's being intrusive about Nate."

His brows furrowed, glancing towards Nate—he seemed to be an ordinary dude. There was no reason Dante's man should be lurking around him, at least he didn't think so. "What did Nate do?"

Tyler shrugged her shoulders. "He didn't do anything...technically..."

Nate wasn't sure if Jules was someone safe to tell, but he also didn't want to talk about Dante because he was certain his hormones would start racing any minute because the only thing in his mind would be his sweaty body moving on top of him, his fingers gripping Nate's wrists and pinning them into the seat. Nate could even feel the way Dante's nails had felt, slightly digging into his skin without breaking the layer, but the slight pain was enough to make him lose his mind.

"You both are making it suspicious," Jules snorted, shaking his head. "But I'll be honest, I don't care to know. Anything relating to Dante's little gang is none of my concern."

"You're not on Dante's team?" When Jules shook his head, Nate frowned, eyeing Tyler for a second before returning his gaze onto Jules. "Why was Jake scared of you then?"

"Because he's on another little...gang, as he put it," Tyler said with a smirk while wiggling her eyes, a fact that seemed to bring her pride.

Jules snorted. "We don't favour Dante's crew. There's just a long history of bad blood." When Nate raised an eyebrow in his direction, he shrugged his shoulders and looked away. However, his eyes seemed to diverge into space, examining the lines on the table but really stuck in his mind, as if memories began to replay over and over again. "Yeah..." he exhaled a long breath before finally lifting his head again with a forced smile, "long history."