Page 55 of Disciplinary Action
“That’s not fair,” Cal moaned. “You’re cheating.”
“You can come after I do. If you want to come as bad as you say, then I suggest you work harder.”
Cal whined, no longer bouncing but grinding his hips against Gideon’s, forcing his cock deeper, before swiveling his hips. There was hardly any movement, but pleasure spiked along Gideon’s insides each time Cal moved against him. It was maddening.
Gideon couldn’t take it anymore. He shoved Cal face down into the mattress, gripping his hips as he pistoned himself in and out of his tight channel. The boy gripped the sheets, nonsense falling from his lips as Gideon fucked him hard and fast, concerned only about getting off.
“Oh, God. What are you doing to me?” Cal whined. “I’m going to come. I’m going to come, and you’re not even touching me.”
Then the boy was coming, his body seizing around Gideon like a vice grip, allowing him to feel every spasm. Gideon gave a hoarse shout as his orgasm slammed into him, his hips stuttering as he continued to pump himself in and out of Cal’s body, filling him with his release.
Gideon collapsed on top of Cal, both of them panting and sweaty.
“Fuck,” Cal said.
“Fuck, indeed,” Gideon said, panting hard. “Did you really come untouched?”
“Am I in trouble?” Cal asked, voice contrite.
Gideon laughed, pressing a kiss to the back of Cal’s sweaty neck. “For disobeying me? Oh, yeah.”
Cal sighed dreamily. “Good.”
“We’ll see if you’re still saying that tomorrow.”
Callum shoveled another bite of scrambled egg into his mouth as he scrolled through his Instagram, idly judging the people he used to call his friends as they bragged about their college admissions. Cal had received acceptance letters from seven out of ten schools, four from the ivy leagues and three from his safety schools. Six had offered him academic scholarships. He shared none of that on his own social media. Nobody would care except Bastian, and he already knew Cal had gotten what he’d wanted.
He had yet to reply to any of the schools. Just eight weeks ago, he would have responded to Harvard the moment he received their acceptance letter, but that was before Gideon. Harvard wasn’t across the world. It wasn’t even across the country, but the idea of leaving Gideon, of only seeing him on holidays and summer breaks, left a hollow feeling in his belly. Cal wasn’t going to blow the biggest opportunity of his life for a man—he wasn’t stupid—but he just needed a minute to sit with it. He had time before Harvard needed an answer, but the clock was ticking.
Cal fed Alexa the rest of his bacon, knowing Gideon was in the shower. Alexa wasn’t allowed table scraps or people food, but if they were caught, it was Cal who would receive the punishment, and that was fine by him. He loved his nightly punishments. It was a way to shut the world out, to disappear into himself, into a world where only Cal and Gideon existed, where he lived and died by Gideon’s hand. Often, Gideon spanked him with his bare hands. That was Cal’s favorite.
The sharp bite of Gideon’s slap, the soothing way he’d rub the spot before his hand came down once more. The way Gideon would often slick his fingers when the punishment was over and fuck into Cal until he was crying and begging for release. Sometimes, Cal was allowed to come. Other times, Gideon would force his cock into Cal’s mouth until he was coated in Gideon’s cum. Cal liked that too, being forced to sleep with Gideon’s cum dried and flaking on his skin. It made him feel wanted. Owned. Safe.
Cal bit back a smile as he grabbed Alexa’s leash and snapped it to the dog’s collar. He waved to the security guard at the back exit beside the parking garage. Darryl… Or maybe it was Derrick? He was new, and they’d had little interaction. It didn’t really matter, Cal supposed, but it was nice to feel like the loft was his home, like the staff knew he belonged there.
He wandered the empty lot beside the building while Alexa did her business, hoping to make it back in time to maybe join Gideon in the shower. It was Sunday, and even though Cal was sore from the rough fuck he and Gideon had when they’d returned from the bar, he wanted Gideon’s touch… He craved it.
Suddenly, there was a chime from his phone indicating he had a new email. Harvard. He hadn’t expected another email so soon, but Cal didn’t really know how it worked. He imagined he’d be receiving many emails over the next few months concerning his scholarships, major, room assignments, and so many other things Cal probably hadn’t even thought of, but he’d assumed they’d all come only after he’d sent his acceptance.
He waited until he was back inside with Alexa curled up in her cozy dog bed before he logged into his account. He frowned at the title of the email. Change of Status.
Dear Mr. Whyte,
It has come to our attention that you have been investigated and found guilty in an honor code violation while attending Roosevelt Preparatory School for Boys. Per the school’s academic administrator, Evelyn Abernathy, the school’s private proctor, Douglas Shea, states that he received payment in exchange for taking your SAT exams for you in November of 2019 after you were given special arrangements following a personal leave of absence. In light of this egregious violation, the College Board has voided your scores and we can no longer consider them when reviewing your application. Given the severity of these charges and our inability to use your scores, we have no choice but to rescind your acceptance and scholarship offer. Our decision is final and no appeals process is available at this time.
Thank you,
Joyce Wiley
Dean of Admissions
Cal’s phone fell from his hands, his face flushing as he blinked back tears of rage. He looked towards the bedroom, part of him wanting to run to Gideon and the other part too humiliated to even want to have to speak the words out loud. How long before the other schools sent their rejections? How had they done this? Gideon couldn’t have known about it… Of course, he didn’t. But how had Abernathy gotten around him? Why?
Why did they all hate him so fucking much?
Hot tears tracked down his flushed cheeks. His whole body was on fire, his heart hammering in his chest hard enough to make him worry he might actually have a heart attack. He sniffled, swiping at his cheeks, as he paced the kitchen. He should have known. It was his fault, really. He should have known they were just setting him up, giving him the illusion that he could have something he’d worked so hard for before they ripped it all away from him. He wanted to punch something, smash something, blow something up. Anything to help alleviate the anguish that stole his breath and made his blood rush in his ears.
He picked up a plate and hurled it across the room, shouting his fury. Alexa gave a startled yelp, cowering against the wall.
