Page 4 of Bend Him, Break Him
“Not caveman—so dated.”
“And sexist,” Jazz added with a smirk, only intending to pile on to the Isaac-being-wrong stack, not actually out to make a point. She allowed Mina to take charge of the lecture during their walk.
“Colton’s more of an alphahole,” Mina said with a shudder of intoxication like the word itself boozed her up.
Isaac let out a scoff snort combo.
“And what the fuck is an alphahole?” he asked with a bitter edge in his voice as his mind swirled to a particular type of hole he might enjoy from a so-called alpha.
“OhMyGod,” Mina blurted with unmatched enthusiasm, drawing the attention of others walking through the courtyard. “They are the epitome of baddie bossy boys. I mean, controlling, strong, aggressive, cunning, calculating, irritating, all wrapped up in the hottest fucking bods a girl could ask for. Well, anyone could ask for, really. We all wanna ride that alpha dick at one point or another.”
“Not all of us,” Jazz clarified, but Mina was too lost in her swooning to notice.
“So, they’re just good-looking assholes?” Isaac tilted his head side-to-side because he could a appreciate a good-looking asshole—literally and personality-wise.
“No, hun. You’re an asshole.” Mina pointed a finger at him, nearly jabbing him with the sharp stiletto tip. “An alphahole is a completely different beast, emphasis on the beast. Especially in the sheets.”
“I get no complaints.”
“Of course not.” Mina shrugged. “Who doesn’t love an angry angsty power bottom twink who dresses edgy because it matches the color of his soul?”
Isaac rolled his eyes at Mina’s dramatic flair when acting out her most emo boy impersonation before correcting herself from sad sack to grumpy goth. “Because you’re not like other middle-class white boys with a darkness inside them.”
“Upper middle-class,” Isaac playfully corrected.
Mina nodded at that, continuing her best, intentionally worst, Isaac impersonation. “You’re angry and filled with purpose. Rawr.”
“He’s filled with something all right,” Jazz chuckled.
“Exactly!” Mina clapped her hands, dropping the impersonation and returning to her explanation. “An alphahole is a dom, an assertive daddy who knows how to make his baby purr.”
“So, how are assholes and alphaholes different again?” Jazz asked, then winked at Isaac to remind him this was all playful banter.
Jazz had a tendency to emotionally check in on her friends, even discreetly, to make sure no conversation or topic steered too far. She hated hurt feelings and hated being the cause of upsetting someone, even unintentionally. When Isaac grinned, he knew it reassured her that he enjoyed the nonsense teasing.
“An asshole is a beta bitch boy posturing to be in charge to prove his anger is more than bluster.” Mina gestured to Isaac as a grand example. “Sorry, Izzy. I don’t make the rules, but you have masochistic hedonist sub written all over that pretty face.”
“Well, as long as I don’t have cum on my face, I guess it’s an improvement.”
Jazz and Mina burst into laughter, keeling over as they walked and dragging Isaac into the giggle fit himself. This was why he tolerated GSA. This was why he made time for his friends. They pulled him out of the darkness, the constant anger that consumed him, and helped him make fun of his own audacious rage.
Isaac didn’t contest the bottom boy assumptions, preferring not to disclose his bedroom intimacy more than what anyone already knew based on the occasional two-in-the-morning hookup they’d see slink out of his dorm room.
Since Isaac’s tastes steered exclusively toward jocky frat boys, most folks assumed his hookups used him for easy ass, which was the furthest thing from the truth. Isaac didn’t sub for anyone ever, not since spending five months with his mouth practically glued to Colton’s cock junior year. The idea of submitting, of serving someone else entirely, made Isaac queasy. He did his best to be a generous partner but always on his terms. His discretion, his control. He would never hand the reins over to another person. Not ever again.
Isaac was the furthest thing from a submissive beta boy. Hell, he usually broke those so-called alphahole guys in himself, finding eager and curious fellas on campus ready to serve. Though, given Mina’s explanation, maybe he’d been fucking assholes in the asshole this entire time.
During the rest of the walk through the student courtyard, Isaac tried to subtly convince his friends that the GSA Club didn’t need some random varsity baseball pitcher to improve their membership engagement.
Chapter Three
Coltonchecked his emails to find a politely composed message from the GSA Club inviting him to once again be a special speaker. Becoming the queer icon at Clinton University wasn’t what he’d signed up for, especially as the freshman starting pitcher on the varsity baseball team. He wasn’t the only open athlete—well, maybe he was at his college—but treading that line of being out and proud while still athletically conservative for the sake of an audience made Colton unsettled most days.
It didn’t help the choice had fallen from his hands. Last year, he got a little too wild with his freedom, and his grades suffered. That probably had to do with all the parties and drinking and other hijinks the campus frowned upon. Like they didn’t know it was all happening. But Colton never registered that just becausethey didn’t write up every drinking incident or party didn’t mean he had to flaunt his behavior everywhere he went.
That bad boy behavior nearly cost him everything when his hookups became more rampant, and a reporter got ahold of pictures of Colton getting a blowjob from another guy. There was no dodging that news headline, so Colton did the only thing he could think of at the time: he steered into the scandal and gave them a positive coming-out journey.
His mother always taught him it was best to lean into a story instead of running from it. However, his parents weren’t fond of his experimental phase, as they put it—in regards to his open bisexuality and his baseball dreams. That was why it was important Colton maintained his sports scholarships. Yes, his parents could pay any tuition fees to any college in the world, but their assistance came with strings and requirements and expectations he’d gone his entire life trying to escape.
