Sebastian gave a crooked smile. “Unfortunately, homophobia isn’t limited to Russia,” he said. “But yeah, growing up in that kind of environment couldn’t have been easy for you.”
Vlad stiffened. “What is that supposed to mean?”
Sebastian licked his lips and opened his mouth—
“Love, we’re ready for you!” Matt called out and Sebastian walked away without a second glance at him.
Vlad didn’t watch the shoot. There was only so much of Sebastian making bedroom eyes at the camera he could take. Feeling agitated, Vlad left the classroom to have a smoke in the corridor.
“You’re not suppos—whoa, easy there, mate!” The newcomer was staring wide-eyed at Vlad’s gun. “Trigger-happy much?”
Vlad swept his gaze over the man. He was tall and muscular—of a similar build to Vlad, actually, except the guy was perhaps a few years younger than Vlad.
“Who are you?”
“I’m the PE teacher, Mike Fletcher. I really don’t appreciate your pointing that thing at me, mate.”
Right. The PE teacher the stylist had mentioned. Vlad lowered his gun but didn’t holster it.
The man relaxed. “So what’s the deal here?”
Vlad glanced back into the classroom where the shoot was still going on. Nothing had happened while he had been distracted.
Fletcher sucked a sharp breath in.
Vlad looked back at him and found the guy staring at Sebastian. Vlad pursed his lips, annoyance flaring inside him. There was something about that stare that he didn’t like.
“You know the model?” Vlad said.
Fletcher’s eyes snapped back to Vlad, his hand flying up to rub his nose and an ugly flush creeping up his neck. “We were in the same class. Not that we were friends or anything.” He snorted smugly. “We weren’t exactly in the same social circle, if you get what I mean.”
Vlad didn’t say anything, and the guy went on, speaking fast, as though he’d been dying to talk to someone about it, “He looked nothing like that back then. Was a pale little thing, all eyes and lips, and a flaming faggot to boot. You know he’s a poofter, right? We all knew that back in school. Everyone knew he was gagging for cock. Begged to suck mine, ya know? I mean, I’m no homo, but I felt sorry for him and let him a couple of times.”
“Really,” Vlad said without any inflection, feeling his grip on the gun tighten. He loosened it and holstered his gun.
“Yeah. Obviously it didn’t mean anything for me. But then he got into his dumb little head that I was a poof like him. Had to teach him a lesson.” Fletcher chuckled before sneering. “Except that faggot was too much of a slut. A few months later, I caught him sucking some loser’s cock. Fucking whore.”
Vlad made a noncommittal noise. “What did you do?”
Fletcher grinned mischievously. “I took a picture of them and emailed it to everyone in school. You should have seen the reaction; it was priceless.” Fletcher chortled. “After that everyone knew what a cockslut he was.”
Vlad stared at the guy. The thing was, Fletcher wasn’t calling Sebastian anything Vlad hadn’t called him, but hearing it from this man...he didn’t fucking like it.
Only I can do it. I.
Shoving the ridiculous thought away, Vlad said coldly, “Is there a reason you’re telling this story to a total stranger?”
Fletcher’s laugh cut off at his tone. For the first time, he looked a little uncertain. “Well, he’s a celebrity these days. It’s not like everyone doesn’t already know he’s a poof, right? Just setting some facts straight here. He was a nobody everyone laughed at back then.” He patted Vlad on the shoulder like they were best bros. “And hey, you’re Russian, you must get it. I wish we had laws against faggots like you do in Russia. If we did, people like him wouldn’t be all high and mighty now.”
Vlad stared at that bitter, pathetic man, and thought: Am I just like him?
“Nice to see you, too, Mike,” Sebastian said softly, making them both turn their heads.
Sebastian looked very calm, very beautiful and very untouchable. “How is your wife? Heard she’s pregnant with your fourth. Congratulations. It mustn’t be easy to provide for such a big family.” Sebastian smiled serenely.
Vlad wanted to bruise his petty, sassy mouth with his.
Fletcher glowered at Sebastian, muttered something uncomfortably, and stalked away.
Sebastian kept smiling, but when Vlad looked closely, he could see how pale and shaken he really was, his lips trembling and his dark eyes looking anywhere but at Vlad. He seemed mortified. He was probably mortified that Vlad had heard the story of his humiliation.
It would be so easy to humiliate him further, to get back at him for everything he’d done to Vlad: for making him look and for making him want.
“Come on, just say it,” Sebastian murmured without looking at him. “Say what a slut and desperate loser I am.”
“You done there?” Vlad said. When Sebastian looked at him with confusion, he clarified, “The shoot?”