Elias Sweet Ass

"You’re doing it again, Rat Face. Looking at the floor like it's got the answers to the math test."

The voice belonged to Sofus, and it echoed off the tiled walls of the boy's restroom with a sharp, metallic ring. Elias—who was branded Ugly Mutant by among Sofus crew of moronic lackeys—didn't look up. He kept his gaze fixed on the grime-streaked linoleum, counting the cracks. He could smell the heavy scent of cheap cologne and old cigarette smoke clinging to Sofus’s navy checkered hoodie. The bully a year his senior didn't move; the bleach blonde psycho just stood there, blocking the path to the sinks, his shadow stretching across the floor.

“Regarding yesterday, if anyone asks…Nothing happened to him anyway.” The ringleader of the bullies sneered, his voice dripping with venom as he thought with bitterness of Christian, the clever-mouthed New Kid who had the audacity to befriend Elias—a move that left Sofus reeling in disbelief, as if the very ground beneath them had shifted. Smirkingly, Sofus reached out, gripping the back of Elias’s neck with a merciless heavy hand. The pressure was sudden and firm, forcing the frightened boy’s head forward. 

“I’m not going to tell.” Elias endured enough daily verbal lashings and the spiteful sabotage of his bike tires. The last thing he needed now was to become Sofus personal indentured slave.

“If you rat on me, you’re dead.” His ire was tempted when Elias didn’t acknowledge his command. "I’m talking to you, bitch," Sofus murmured, his voice dropping to a low, menacing hum. He leaned in closer, his breath warm against Elias's right ear. "Do you think getting good marks in class makes you special? Or maybe you think being the smartest kid in the seventh grade makes you invisible?"

Elias tried to recoil, but the wall of the restroom felt like it was closing in. He could hear the distant sound of a locker slamming in the hallway, a reminder that the rest of the world was only twenty feet away, yet completely unreachable. Sofus’s grip tightened, his thumb pressing into a sensitive nerve behind Elias’s ear. 

"Tell me," Sofus whispered, "are you going to run to the principal the second I let go? Because we both know how that ends for you."

The threat hung in the air, thick and suffocating. The dark-blonde with a mousey countenance didn't answer, his breath coming in shallow, jagged hitches. Sofus shifted his weight, and the sudden movement caused his eyes to wander. He stopped talking, his gaze dropping from Elias's terrified face to the curve of his hips. The skinny blue jeans Elias wore didn't do much to hide the softness of his build. Sofus let out a slow, appreciative whistle, a sound that felt far more dangerous than the shouting.

"Actually, you've got something going for you, don't you?" Sofus murmured. He released the neck grip, only to slide his hand down, giving Elias's backside a hard, proprietary squeeze. The force of it nearly pushed Elias against the whitish-gray tiles. Sofus's expression shifted from boredom to a predatory kind of curiosity. He stepped back just an inch, enough to survey the view, his icy blue eyes narrowing as he took in the plumpness of the boy's rear.

The silence of the restroom was broken by the rhythmic drip-drip of a leaky faucet. Sofus leaned back against the sink, crossing his arms. 

"Pants down. Now," he commanded. The tone wasn't a request; it was a directive. Elias froze, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. He looked toward the door, but the heavy metal slab was shut, and the only sound was the distant, muffled chatter of students, after a brutal day of classes had only sharpened the yearning for home, a craving that burned in every students’ chest like a slow, sweet fire.

Elias’s slender hands shook as he reached for his waist. The metallic clink of the button and the rasp of the zipper sounded deafening in the small space. As the denim fabric pooled around his ankles, the cold air of the restroom hit his skin, making him shiver. He felt exposed, stripped of the only armor he had. Sofus didn't move immediately; he just watched, his eyes scanning Elias with a slow, hungry intensity that made the boy feel like a specimen under a microscope.

"Get on your knees," Sofus ordered, his voice devoid of any warmth. He didn't wait for his favorite prey to comply, stepping forward to guide him down with a sharp shove to the shoulder. Elias collapsed onto the damp tiles, the smell of bleach and ammonia filling his nostrils. He looked up, seeing Sofus’s black sneakers just inches from his face. With a rough tug, Sofus freed himself from his jeans, the sudden appearance of his hardness making Elias’s stomach flip.

The first contact was clumsy and abrupt. Sofus grabbed a handful of Elias’s swooping hair, pulling his head forward to force the connection. Elias gagged, his dark-blue eyes watering as the salty taste of skin and sweat filled his mouth. He tried to breathe through his nose, but Sofus was impatient, thrusting his hips in a rhythmic, demanding motion that pushed Elias’s head back toward the porcelain base of the toilet. The bully let out a low, guttural grunt, his fingers tightening in Elias’s hair until the boy's scalp burned.

Once the tension in Sofus's frame peaked, he didn't stop; he simply shifted gears. He gripped Elias by the waist and flipped him over with a sudden, jarring motion, pinning his chest flat against the cold, sticky damp tiles. Elias felt the air leave his lungs in a sharp wheeze. Before he could process the change, Sofus was hovering over him, his weight a crushing presence. Sofus didn't use any lubrication, only the spit from his own mouth, rubbing it roughly against Elias’s tight entrance. The coldness of the air contrasted sharply with the sudden, searing heat of Sofus’s skin pressing against his backside.

The first push was a blunt force that made Elias’s vision blur. He let out a stifled cry, his forehead pressing hard into the grime of the floor as he was forced to take the full weight of the bully. It was a raw, stretching sensation that felt like it was splitting him in two. Sofus didn't slow down, his breath coming in heavy, ragged bursts against the back of Elias's neck. Each thrust was methodical and hard, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing off the sterile walls, mixing with the rhythmic dripping of the faucet.

Wincing, Elias closed his eyes tight, trying to imagine he was anywhere else—back at his desk, touching the edges of his model rockets—but the physical reality was too loud to ignore. He could feel the friction of Sofus’s denim rubbing against his thighs and the bruising grip of fingers digging into his hips to keep him pinned. There was no tenderness in the act; it was an exercise in domineering ownership. Sofus groaned, a deep, animal sound that vibrated through Elias’s entire frame, driving the pace faster until the boy's breath was nothing more than short, panicked gasps.

The pressure built until Sofus suddenly stiffened, his strong fingers clamping down so hard on Elias's waist that they would leave purple marks by tomorrow. With one final, guttural shout, Sofus surged forward and emptied himself inside, the heat of it shocking against the defenseless boy's internal walls. For a few seconds, the only sound in the room was the heavy, synchronized panting of two boys, the silence of the school hallway feeling like a distant, alien world.

Gritting his teeth, Sofus withdrew with a sharp, wet sound and stepped back, his breathing slowly leveling out. He didn't offer a hand or a word of comfort. Instead, he reached for his jeans, pulling them up with a casual lack of urgency. He looked down at Elias, who remained sprawled on the tiles, trembling and leaking, his face pressed against the cold floor. Sofus let out a short, huffing laugh, glancing at the clock on the wall. He was cutting it close to the bell.

"Clean yourself up, Rat Face," Sofus said, his voice returning to that callous, menacing drone. He leaned over, gripping Elias’s chin and forcing him to look up. There was a flicker of something in his eyes—not kindness, but a dark, satisfied curiosity. "You’re a lot more interesting than those lame ass models of yours. I think I’m going to enjoy this." Licking his lips, he patted Elias’s cheek with a stinging slap, the sound sharp and final in the small room.

Sofus turned and walked toward the door, the heavy thud of his sneakers echoing on the tiles. He paused for a second with his hand on the steel handle, looking back over his shoulder. "Don't be late for class Monday. And don't think about saying a word, or the next time won't be this quick." With a final, mocking smirk, he pushed the door open and vanished into the hallway, leaving the restroom suddenly, violently quiet.