Cole’s Plan

[Ultraviolence]

Part 1 - True Story - Written by “Cole” in the POV of Nico.

“Took your sweet time.” I said as I stepped inside, kicking the door shut behind me. My gaze flicks over Cole—assessing. “Moses home?”

I don’t wait for an answer. Just brush past him like I belong here—because, honestly, I do. This house has been a second home for years. Don’t even know why I knocked.

“No, he’s not.” Cole’s voice is tight, annoyed. “And you’re gonna get me in trouble. I’m not supposed to have anyone over.”

I scoff. “Relax, tiny. It’s just me.”

Cole—Moses’ kid brother, always trailing after us, always trying to keep up. I’ve known him since he was a scrawny little thing with skinned knees and too much to prove.

I drop onto the couch like I own the place, stretching my arms over the backrest. “Happy late birthday, by the way. The big one-eight.” I smirk, eyes flicking to him. “Senior year treating you good?”

Cole crosses his arms, shifting his weight from foot to foot like he’s debating whether to kick me out or let it slide. He settles on glaring. “Yeah, sure. Feels exactly the same, except now I get lectures about college and taxes.”

I huff out a laugh. “Welcome to adulthood, kid. It’s all paperwork and disappointment from here.”

Cole rolls his eyes, but there’s something in them—maybe amusement, maybe irritation. “You’re not exactly a role model, Nico.”

I smirk. “Never claimed to be.” I lean forward, elbows on my knees. “What, you got big plans or something? College? World domination?”

“Don’t know,” he mutters, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “Just trying to get through the year.”

I nod, because yeah, that’s fair. High school’s a whole mess of bullshit, and Cole’s always been the type to overthink things. “You’ll figure it out.”

He scoffs. “Wow. So wise. Truly, I am blessed by your insight.”

“Hey, you’re the one who said I’m not a role model.” I grin, kicking my feet up onto the coffee table. “Now stop whining and put on a movie or something. If I’m stuck waiting for Moses, I might as well be entertained.”

Cole groans but grabs the remote anyway and begins scrolling through options. He can complain all he wants—he’s not getting rid of me that easily.

I watch him, letting my eyes trace over his profile—sharp but soft in a way that stands out. He’s got that kind of beauty that sneaks up on you. Perfect complexion, all smooth angles and symmetry. Brown hair always neat, like he actually cares how he looks. Green eyes that somehow manage to look both bored and sharp at the same time.

He’s Latino, but you wouldn’t know unless he told you. Not like Moses. Moses got all the Latin genes and left Cole with none. If you lined them up next to each other, no one would guess they were brothers. Moses and I, we look the way people expect men like us to look—tan skin, dark eyes, thick brows, sharp jaws. Built like we were made for violence. Like we’d fuck someone up for looking at us wrong.

Cole? He’s the opposite. White-passing, preppy, clean-cut. Small-framed but just toned enough to not look skinny. He looks like he belongs in some private school wearing a sweater over his shoulders, not in this house, not anywhere near people like me or Moses. If he ever got pulled over, the cop would probably call him “son” and send him on his way.

And the best part? He has no idea.

No idea his big brother’s keeping me in business. No idea I sell meth. No idea Moses does it, either.

I wonder if he’d look at me differently if he knew. If he’d stop pretending like I’m just some annoying family friend taking up space on his couch.

He exhales sharply, still scrolling. “Jesus, there’s nothing on.”

I smirk. “Maybe you’re just bad at picking.”

“Maybe you can shut up.”

I chuckle, shaking my head. He’s got bite when he wants to. But I bet he’s never needed to actually fight. Bet no one’s ever looked at him like a threat.

Cole keeps scrolling, eyes flicking across the screen like he’s actually weighing his options. I’m not sure if he’s taking his time just to piss me off or if he really is this indecisive. Probably both.

I stretch out, watching him frown at the TV. “Hurry up, tiny. We’ll both be dead before you pick something.”

Cole exhales through his nose, then, with a flamboyant exaggeration shoves the remote into my hand. “Here. You pick, since you’re such an expert.”

I smirk, settling deeper into the couch, one arm draped lazily over the backrest. “Finally. You should’ve just admitted you suck at decisions five minutes ago.” I start flipping through the options, not really paying attention. I’m just killing time, waiting for Moses.

Then Cole says, “I know what you do, by the way.”

My thumb freezes on the remote. I don’t react right away, don’t look at him, just keep scrolling like he didn’t just drop that in my lap. “What are you talking about?” I ask, casual. Too casual.

Cole leans back against the couch, arms crossed. He looks at me like he’s waiting for me to stop playing dumb. “I know what you do for work.”

I scoff. “I don’t know what you think you know, but—”

“You sell,” he cuts in, bluntly. His green eyes don’t waver. “And Moses buys.”

A slow pulse of something heavy settles in my chest. I force out a chuckle, shaking my head. “That’s a hell of a thing to accuse someone of, tiny.”

Cole just shrugs. “I don’t care.”

That makes me glance at him, really look at him. His expression is unreadable, but he’s serious.

I let out a slow breath, tossing the remote onto the coffee table. “You don’t care?” I repeat. “You should. Normal people don’t just brush that kind of thing off.”

He shrugs again. “I stopped expecting normal a long time ago.”

I study him, waiting for him to flinch, to crack, to do anything that makes me think he’s just trying to get a reaction. But he doesn’t.

Instead, he tilts his head slightly. “What’s it like?”

I frown. “What’s what like?”

“That world,” he says, vague but somehow precise. “The dealing, the using. The whole thing. What does it feel like?”

I roll my tongue over my teeth, considering. “Why do you wanna know?”

“Just curious.” His voice is light, but there’s something underneath it. Something deeper.

I think about lying, brushing it off, telling him it’s nothing, but I don’t. “It feels like control,” I say finally. “Like you’ve got the whole world at your feet. And like none of it matters at the same time.”

Cole nods, like that makes perfect sense to him. He exhales slowly, then looks at me again. “Can I try some?”

That pulls a sharp laugh from me. “Funny.”

“I’m serious.”

I narrow my eyes. “Not gonna happen.”

Cole doesn’t back down. “Why not?”

“Because it’s not for you.”

He gives me a look, one I can’t quite place. “Maybe I don’t want to be me for a while.”

His voice is quiet, but the weight of it lingers. I don’t say anything right away. I just watch him, this kid who has everything lined up for him, who has no idea what he’s asking for.

“Go get drunk or something,” I mutter, shaking my head. “Find some other way to let go.”

“I don’t want to drink.” His jaw tightens. “I want to feel what you feel.”

That makes something inside me twitch, but I lie. “You don’t.”

He holds my gaze. “You don’t know what I want.”

I exhale sharply, shaking my head. “Not happening, Cole.”

But he doesn’t drop it. Instead, he tilts his head slightly, studying me. “You know about ‘pnp’?”

I frown. “The hell is that?”

“Party and play.” He watches me, waiting to see if the words land. When I don’t react, he explains. “It’s a thing in the gay scene. Hooking up while high. Mostly meth, sometimes coke or G.”

Felt that twitch again, but in my cock that time.

“And?” I ask, voice flat.

Cole leans forward. Calm, calculated—like he’s thought about this for a while. “I’m going to college next year. I’m gonna end up smoking at some point. You might not know, but it’s popular in my hookup culture.” His lips press together for a second, then he looks me dead in the eye. “The first time I do it should be with someone I trust.”

I bark out a laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “You trust me? That’s your first mistake.”

“I do.” His voice is steady. Too steady.

I drag a hand down my face, shaking my head. “Jesus, Cole.”

It’s not like I give a shit what people do with their dicks. Never have. Cole being gay? Old news. Everyone knows, not that it matters to me. I’ve got my girls, maybe more than one, depending on the night. But Cole… I don’t know. He’s always been different. Soft spot doesn’t even cover it. Something about him has always pulled me in, made me look twice. Made me care when I shouldn’t.

And now he’s sitting here, telling me he wants this—this inside him?

“Why do you even want this?” I ask. “You don’t need it.”

He shrugs, looking away for the first time. “Maybe I don’t want to be me for a while.”

I know that feeling. I know it too fucking well.

I sigh, thinking. I should shut this down completely, tell him no again, make sure he never asks. But part of me knows he’s right. If he’s going to do it—and he is—then better with me than some random asshole at a college party.

I glance at him again. His perfect skin, his neat hair, his green eyes holding something deeper, something restless.

I shouldn’t even be considering it.

And yet.

“I’ve tried G before.” He says too casually.

Another cock twitch. “Excuse me?”

He stands up without another word, disappearing down the hall. A minute later, he’s back, holding a tiny glass vial between his fingers like it’s nothing. Like it’s just another thing in his neatly curated life.

I sit up straighter, narrowing my eyes. “Tell me that’s not what I think it is.”

He tosses it to me, and I catch it easily. Twisting off the cap, I dab my finger inside and press it to my tongue. A distinct sour, chemical taste—definitely GHB.

I let out a slow breath, gripping the vial tighter. “Where the fuck did you get this?”

Cole shrugs like it’s no big deal. “I have my ways.”

I glare at him. “That’s not a fucking answer.”

“Neither is ‘I’ll think about it.’” He crosses his arms. “So let’s make a trade. I get you high on G, and you get me high on meth. Seems fair.”

I exhale sharply, rolling the vial between my fingers. “You don’t just have this shit, Cole. What the fuck were you planning to do with it?”

He holds my gaze. “What do you think?”

I don’t answer. He just told me. My cock twitches again, but followed by a strange mix of anger and jealousy pouring over me.

I set the vial onto the coffee table, leaning back. “You’re a fucking idiot.”

“So is Moses, and you still sell to him.”

That one hits harder than I want it to. My jaw tightens, but I don’t argue.

Cole tilts his head, watching me. “So?”

I sigh, dragging a hand through my hair. “I’m not saying yes.”

“But you’re not saying no.”

I shoot him a look. “I’ll consider it.”

Cole doesn’t gloat, doesn’t smirk. He just nods, like that’s all he needed to hear. Then, before I can stop him, he’s already moving.

“Be right back.”

“Cole—” But he’s gone, jogging into the kitchen.

I stare at the vial sitting on the table, irritation curling in my gut. I should’ve flushed it or thrown it back in his face. But I didn’t.

A minute later, Cole returns, carrying two cups. “Here.”

I frown. “The fuck is this?”

“Mixer.” He sets them down, unbothered. “If you won’t smoke me up, I’m taking G, and so are you”

I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head. “Not how this works, tiny.”

“It is now.” His eyes meet mine.

Jesus Christ. He’s really doing this. Really pushing.

And the worst part?

I’m not sure if I want to stop him.

“Fine.”

Cole blinks. “Fine?”

I shoot him a look. “Yeah, fine. But don’t get ahead of yourself—I’m not smoking you up.”

Cole just smirks, like he knew I’d fold eventually.

“But when Moses gets home, you better be in your room. Last thing I need is him seeing you fucked up.”

Cole doesn’t even argue. He just nods, pleased with the arrangement so far, like this is some kind of negotiation he’s winning.

We sit there for a while, neither of us talking.

Then Cole shifts slightly, turning his gaze to me. “Well? You’re the dealer. You need to measure it out.”

I scoff. “Bossy little shit.”

But I don’t argue. G’s not something you eyeball unless you’ve got a death wish. I glance at Cole. “You know how easy it is to overdose on this shit?”

He nods, watching as I grab my phone and open the calculator, doing quick math. “Yeah. That’s why I trust you.”

I pause for half a second. Then shake it off and get to work.

I unscrew the cap, tipping out a careful dose, measuring with the precision that comes from experience. Cole watches intently, eyes sharp, absorbing every movement. Like he wants to learn. Like he wants to know exactly how this world works.

I don’t know if that should worry me.

Actually, I do.

But I’m doing it anyway.

I measure out just under a full dose for Cole—enough to feel it, not enough to fuck him up completely. He won’t notice the difference. Then I pour double into my own cup. If one of us is going under, it’s going to be me, not him.

Cole doesn’t question it as I hand him his drink. He takes the cup, fingers brushing mine for half a second before he leans back against the couch. He doesn’t drink it yet, just swirls the liquid like he’s testing it.

“You sure about this?” I ask, watching him.

He lifts a brow. “Are you?”

I don’t answer. Instead, I raise my cup. He does the same.

We clink them together, and then I throw mine back. Cole hesitates for half a second before following suit.

I watch him, as he downs the G, licking his lips after like it’s nothing, like this is just another night. Like we do this all the time.

Silence settles between us again, heavier this time. We both know what comes next.

Cole leans his head back against the couch, eyes flicking to me. “How long?”

I stretch out, feeling the slow warmth creeping through my limbs already. “Give it fifteen.”

He exhales through his nose, tapping his fingers against his knee. Waiting.

Twenty minutes pass, and the G is in full force. My body feels loose, warm, like I’m sinking into the couch but floating at the same time. Everything is just good—my muscles relaxed, my mind foggy but not gone. My cock no longer twitching, but harder as fuck.

The TV is playing something, but I’m not paying attention. G always makes me wanna smoke, and my fingers twitch with the urge to reach into my pocket, to take the edge off the pleasure creeping under my skin. I swallow it down, exhaling through my nose, still not sure how I feel about letting Cole go that far.

Instead, I look at Cole, getting lost in watching him. He’s close enough now that I can smell the faint hint of his cologne under the warmth of his skin. He’s always been pretty, but right now, he’s something else entirely.

The worst part? I can’t look away.

Cole turns his head, catching me in the act.

Damn.

He tilts his head slightly, like he’s studying me. Then, with a slow smirk, he murmurs, “Feel good yet?”

The G kicks in harder, spreading through my veins like liquid gold, making my skin buzz, making everything feel too good, too much. And Cole—Cole’s right there, watching me, soaking it all in.

I exhale through my nose, smirking back. “You tell me.”

His eyes flick down—over my chest, my arms, the way my fingers twitch against the couch.

Then he licks his lips and lets out a soft, lazy chuckle. “You’ve been staring for a while.”

Fuck, I need to look away.

But I don’t.

“Maybe I like what I see.”

I don’t know why I say it. Maybe it’s the G talking, loosening my tongue along with everything else. Maybe it’s something else. But Cole doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t get flustered.

Instead, he tilts his head slightly, studying me the same way I was just studying him. Then, like he’s making some kind of silent decision, he smirks back.

“Yeah,” he says, voice smooth and slow. “I think you do.” This makes my cock throb harder than it ever has in the past.

Blinking hard like I can shake the moment off. “Shit—” I rub a hand over my forehead. “Didn’t mean to say that.”

Cole raises a brow, still smirking. “Yeah?”

I exhale sharply. “Blame it on the G.” I wave a lazy hand between us, trying to smooth over whatever that was. It was the high, that’s all. Didn’t mean anything. Right?

Cole just watches me, head tilted, like he doesn’t quite believe me. And maybe I don’t believe myself, either.

I need to shift the energy. Fast.

So, before I can second-guess it, I let out, “Fuck it. Let’s smoke.”

Cole straightens slightly, interest sparking in his hazy green eyes. “Yeah?”

I nod, already reaching into my pocket, fingers brushing the familiar weight of glass and baggie. “Yeah. But listen up first.”

I try to sit up, but the G still has me melting into the couch, body slow, thoughts even slower. Still, I do my best.

“This shit isn’t a game.” My voice comes out heavier than I intend, slurred around the edges but still firm. “You do it once, you’ll wanna do it again. Maybe not right away, but it’ll be in the back of your head. And when it’s in your head, it stays there.”

Cole just nods, like he’s absorbing every word.

I let out a slow breath, pushing past the warmth of the G curling in my gut. My hand dips into my pocket, pulling out the pipe and a bag of crystal.

“First rule,” I say, shaking the bag slightly, watching the tiny shards catch the dim light. “You don’t call it meth. That’s a dirty word.”

Cole raises a brow but doesn’t argue.

“Crystal is fine. Or Tina. But mostly just T.”

He nods again. “T.”

I tap out a small amount, carefully loading the bowl, hands steady from muscle memory alone. The whole time, I can feel Cole’s eyes on me, watching, absorbing, taking in every little movement like he wants to learn it all.

And maybe it’s just the drugs, but swear to god, he’s getting more attractive by the minute.

I push that thought away, focus on what’s in front of me.

The packed pipe.

I glance up at Cole, meeting his gaze. “Last chance to back out.”

Cole shakes his head, slow but deliberate. “I’m not backing out.”

His voice is steady, not a hint of hesitation. He knows what he’s doing. Or at least, he thinks he does.

“Alright,” I mutter, reaching for my backpack. I unzip the side pocket and pull out my torch, flicking the cap open with my thumb. The blue flame shoots to life, steady and hot.

“Pay attention,” I tell him, rolling my shoulders, settling in. “You don’t just light it like a blunt. You gotta heat it slow, let it melt down before you pull. And you never hold it in—this isn’t weed. You blow it out right away.”

Cole nods, eyes locked on the pipe in my hand. He looks like a kid in class, laser-focused, taking mental notes. It almost makes me laugh. Almost.

I adjust my grip, rolling the pipe between my fingers, making sure the crystal is spread evenly in the bowl. Then I bring the torch up, the flame licking under the glass.

The crystals start to sweat, then liquefy, pooling at the bottom before swirling into thick, white vapor. I keep the movement slow, rotating the pipe so it doesn’t burn too hot in one spot. “See that?” I glance at Cole. “That’s what you want. Not too much heat, not too little. Just enough.”

He doesn’t blink. “Got it.”

I smirk, then bring the mouthpiece to my lips, pulling in a deep, steady drag. The smoke fills my lungs instantly, a sharp warmth spreading through my chest. I don’t hold it—I don’t need to. I part my lips and exhale, blowing a thick cloud straight up to the ceiling.

The rush hits fast, that familiar electric clarity slicing through the G’s haze. My pulse kicks up, my skin tingles, my brain sharpens like a knife. I close my eyes for half a second, letting it settle, then look back at Cole.

“Your turn.” I hold out the pipe, the bowl still cloudy with vapor. “Let’s see if you were actually paying attention.”

Cole takes the pipe, holding it carefully, but instead of going for the torch, he looks at me. “You light it for me.”

I pause, fingers tightening slightly around the torch.

There’s something about it—something I can’t put my finger on, something that feels… personal. Too personal. Anyone who knows this shit knows it’s an unspoken thing, a quiet kind of intimacy. And suddenly, I remember what Cole said before—about pnp, about the way fags do it.

And I gotta admit—they got that part right.

It’s hot. In a way that makes no damn sense. A slow burn, a flicker of heat curling low in my stomach. A weird kind of trust. I don’t get it, not really, but I feel it.

And yet, I do it anyway.

“Alright,” I murmur, voice lower than I meant for it to be. I tilt the pipe in his hand, angling the bowl just right. “I’ll tell you when.”

Cole nods, lips parting slightly, eyes flicking between the pipe and my face.

I hold his gaze as I bring the flame to the glass, warming it slow, just like I did for myself. The crystals liquefy, then swirl into vapor, thick and milky.

“Now,”

Cole inhales, his green eyes locked onto mine. His lips close around the mouthpiece, cheeks hollowing slightly as he pulls, the vapor disappearing into his lungs. I watch the way his throat moves, the way his eyelashes flutter for half a second before he exhales, a smooth cloud spilling past his lips.

It’s a good hit. Clean and controlled.

Thought it wasn’t possible for my cock to throb any harder, but I was proven wrong again.

I clear my throat, shifting back slightly. “Not bad.”

Cole tilts his head, exhaling the last of the smoke. “Told you I was paying attention.”

I huff out a small laugh, shaking my head. “Yeah, yeah.”

But the warmth is still there. That weird, lingering heat in my gut.

I ignore it.

I take the pipe back from him, flicking the torch on again. “One more.”

Cole just smirks. “Whatever you say, dealer.”

An hour slips by, the minutes blurring into smoke and warmth. Every time, I light the pipe for Cole, watching as he inhales, his lips parting slightly, his eyes hooded as he exhales. He’s a fast learner—too fast. Takes to it like he was made for this.

I should stop him. Should’ve stopped after the first hit.

But I don’t.

Eventually, I glance at my phone, noting the time. Been two hours since I first stepped through the door. I lean back into the couch, stretching, feeling the way my muscles buzz under my skin.

“Moses is taking his sweet time,” I mutter. “What’s he even out doing?”

Cole hums, his head tilted against the couch, gaze flicking toward me. He hesitates just a second before saying, “He’s staying at his girl’s place tonight.”

I pause mid-motion, giving him a look. “What?”

Cole shrugs, lazy. “Won’t be back until tomorrow.”

Something clicks into place in my head. I stare at him for a long second, then let out a dry, amused scoff. “You little shit.”

Cole smirks, eyes glinting. “What?”

“You played me.” I shake my head, exhaling a laugh. “You knew he wasn’t coming back tonight. You set this whole thing up.”

He doesn’t even bother denying it. Just shrugs again, looking way too pleased with himself. “You wouldn’t have agreed otherwise.”

I let out another sharp laugh, shaking my head. “Unbelievable.”

But, lowkey? I’m impressed.

Cole’s always been the quiet, follow-the-rules type. The preppy golden boy, the one who didn’t pull this kind of shit. Or at least, that’s what I thought.

Turns out, he’s got more in him than I gave him credit for.

I drag a hand down my face, still smirking. “So what, you planned all this just to get high with me?”

Cole tilts his head, lips curling at the edges. “Would you have come if I told you the truth?”

I don’t answer.

Because we both already know.

I lean my head back, letting the high settle deeper into my bones before glancing over at Cole. “How you feeling?”

He exhales slowly, a small, lazy smile tugging at his lips. “Great.” His voice is smooth, relaxed. “Didn’t really feel the G much, though.”

I raise a brow. “Yeah?”

He nods. “I mean, it was nice, but it didn’t hit me like it hit you.” He tilts his head, eyes flicking over me. “You wanna do more?”

I consider it for a second. I am feeling good—buzzing, floating, perfect—and nobody’s coming home until tomorrow. There’s nothing stopping me.

I shrug. “Fuck it.”

I grab the vial from the table, rolling it between my fingers before twisting the cap off. Cole watches as I measure out two doses into my own cup, then pour a single one into his.

I go to hand him the cup, but he doesn’t take it right away. Instead, he looks at me, eyes sharp despite the haze. “Give me the same as you.”

I hesitate. First-timers shouldn’t push it too far. That’s the rule. But I think back to how easily he took the first dose, how steady he was, how he never wavered. Some people can just handle it well.

Cole’s one of them.

“Alright,” I murmur, pouring the extra into his cup, matching my own. “Your call.”

I watch Cole as he downs the G, licking his lips absentmindedly before setting the cup down.

He runs a hand through his hair, fingers raking through the strands before letting his arm drop over the couch, closer to mine now. “You really do this all the time?”

I flick my eyes to him. “What, the G?”

“All of it.” He gestures vaguely. “T, G, dealing, all of it.”

I smirk. “You already knew the answer before you asked.”

He tilts his head slightly. “Still wanted to hear you say it.”

His smirk lingers, and he leans back just a little, stretching out, mirroring the way I’m sitting now. He’s comfortable. Maybe too comfortable.

And he’s watching me like he’s waiting for something.

I roll my tongue over my teeth, “You feeling it yet?”

His smirk widens just slightly. “I think so.”

Fucking cock won’t stop throbbing.

I push past it, shifting forward, reaching for the pipe again. “Good. Then let’s keep it that way.”

I exhale toward the ceiling, watching the cloud drift up, feeling the rush settle in my bones. Then I glance at Cole.

I smirk, shaking my head, then pass him the pipe, torch still in hand. “Here.”

Cole takes the pipe without hesitation, bringing it to his lips. I lean in, closer this time, and light it for him, watching as the vapor builds.

“Now,” I murmur.

He inhales, slow and deep, just like I showed him. The smoke disappears into his lungs, his green eyes flickering toward me as he holds the hit for half a second—long enough for me to reach for the pipe.

But before I can grab it, Cole moves.

His free hand shoots up, fingers tangling in the back of my hair, pulling me in, dragging my face toward his before I can even register what’s happening.

Then his lips are on mine.

And before I can even process that, he exhales—the hit rushing past my lips, into my lungs, filling me up, hotter than it should be.

Shotgunning.

An intimacy. A challenge. A fucking game.

My whole body tenses, mind short-circuiting between the drugs and the heat of his mouth, his lips, the way he holds me there, fingers gripping my hair like he’s testing a boundary he already knows he’s breaking.

The high kicks up, sharper, hotter, sending a pulse through my veins that makes me forget, for half a second, that I’m supposed to be in control here.

I rip myself back, fast, like I’ve been burned.

“The fuck was that?” My voice comes out sharp, cutting through the thick haze of smoke and G and whatever the fuck Cole thinks he’s doing.

Cole leans back slightly, but he doesn’t look guilty. He doesn’t even look surprised. If anything, he looks amused.

“Relax.” His voice is smooth, too smooth. “Just having fun.”

I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, scowling. “That’s not—” I exhale hard, jaw tightening, forcing my pulse to slow the fuck down. “That’s not how this works.”

Cole tilts his head, watching me, that lazy smirk still tugging at his lips. “No?”

I shake my head, reaching for the pipe, more out of habit than anything else, just to have something in my hands. “You don’t pull that shit with me, Cole.”

He shrugs, stretching out, looking too damn comfortable. “Seemed like you liked it.”

Something in me snaps.

Before I could react to what I was doing, my arm was already outstretched, hand wrapped around Cole’s throat, pinning him to the couch.

I lean in close, lowering my voice, making sure he fucking hears me. “You don’t know what you’re playing with.”

Cole’s smirk falters—just a fraction. But it’s enough.

I let him go, trying to shake the weird, charged energy out of my system. I don’t know if it’s the G, the T, or the fact that Cole fucking made out with me like it was nothing, but I feel wired, too hot, too aware of everything.

Cole watches me for a long moment, then exhales, like he’s letting it go.

Then Cole shifts beside me, exhaling softly. “Alright,” he mutters. “Maybe I crossed a line.”

“It’s a small town,” he says, voice quieter now. “Not a lot of options.”

I frown. “Options?”

His lips press together for a second, then he lets out a dry laugh. “Gays, Nico.” He finally looks at me. “There’s, like, five of us here. And they’re all…” He trails off, shaking his head.

I raise a brow. “All what?”

“Fem,” he says flatly. “Bottoms. Good friends, but not exactly great for, you know…” His hand gestures vaguely between us. “Experimenting.”

I huff a small laugh, shaking my head. “Jesus. You really just said that.”

Cole shrugs, unbothered. “It’s true.” Then he leans back against the couch, tipping his head to the side as he studies me. “I’ve got a type, and none of them fit.”

I narrow my eyes. “And what’s your type, exactly?”

He hums, dragging his fingers lazily over the rim of his empty cup, pretending to think. “Older. Built. Not soft.” His eyes flick over me, slow and deliberate. “Masculine. A little dangerous.”

I let out a short laugh, shaking my head. “Subtle.”

Cole just smirks, unashamed. “You asked.”

“And it’s not just the looks, either. It’s the energy.” His fingers drum against his knee, gaze flicking to mine again. “That… intensity.”

My jaw tenses. I look away, shifting in my seat. “Sounds complicated.”

“It is,” he admits, then exhales through his nose, his smirk fading. “Not that it matters. It’s not like I’ve actually done anything.”

That makes me pause. I glance at him again, frowning slightly. “What do you mean?”

He shrugs. “I mean exactly that. I haven’t done anything.”

I stare at him for a second. “Wait.” I shift toward him, eyes narrowing. “You’re telling me you’re still a virgin?”

Cole huffs out a small, almost embarrassed laugh. “Yeah, Nico. I am.”

I blink. Then bark out a laugh, shaking my head. “Couldn’t be me.”

Cole rolls his eyes. “Yeah, no shit.”

I smirk, leaning back again. “Damn. A virgin at eighteen?”

“What, you lost it at, like, fourteen?” he shoots back, raising a brow.

I shrug. “Fifteen.”

Cole groans. “Of course you did.”

I just grin, taking another hit, letting the smoke curl lazily from my lips. “You’re really out here trying to experiment, huh?”

He exhales dramatically. “You have no idea.”

I shake my head, chuckling. “Poor thing.”

“Fuck off.” But there’s no heat in his voice. Just that same lazy smirk, that same energy humming between us.

Cole shifts, getting more comfortable on the couch, eyes flicking to me with something that’s both amused and too curious.

“Tell me about straight sex.”

I pause mid-inhale, pipe still between my fingers. I exhale a slow cloud of smoke, smirking. “What?”

“You know,” Cole says, waving a lazy hand. “Fucking bitches.”

That makes me actually laugh, the kind that shakes in my chest. “Jesus, Cole.”

He grins, eyes flickering with amusement. “What?”

“You saying it like that.” I shake my head. “You sound like a kid trying to prove something.”

He shrugs, still grinning. “I mean, I have to know what all the hype is about. Why do you guys love it so much?”

I huff a laugh, stretching my arms over the back of the couch. “You’ve never been with a girl, obviously.”

Cole makes a face. “Nope.”

“But you’ve seen straight porn.”

He snorts. “Unfortunately.” Then, mocking, he adds, “Couldn’t be me.”

That makes me laugh again, shaking my head. “Yeah, yeah.”

Cole tilts his head, watching me. “So? Explain”

I smirk, exhaling another slow breath of smoke. “It’s the way they react, man. The softness, the sounds. The way their bodies move. It’s like…” I trail off for a second, trying to find the right words. “It’s powerful. Controlling how they take it, how they moan, how they come apart under you.”

Cole listens, head tilting slightly, eyes sharp even through the haze. “So it’s about dominance?”

I smirk. “It’s about control.”

Cole hums, gaze flicking over me, unreadable. Then he exhales, shaking his head. “Yeah. Couldn’t be me.”

I chuckle. “Yeah, I figured.”

Cole shifts again, pulling one leg up onto the couch, turning more toward me. “And you don’t ever think about it differently? Like, I dunno, being on the other side?”

I raise a brow. “What, letting a girl take control?”

“No.” He gives me a look. “I mean with a guy.”

My jaw flexes slightly, but I keep my expression easy. “No.”

Cole watches me for a second longer, then smirks like he knows something I don’t. “Interesting.”

I shake my head, smirking right back. “You’re something else, you know that?”

He grins, leaning back again. “I try.”

I take another hit, letting it sit heavy in my lungs before I pass the pipe back to him.

And as he takes it, fingers brushing mine, I can’t shake the feeling that this conversation isn’t over. Not even close.

Cole takes the pipe, bringing it to his lips, waiting for me to light it. He’s steady, smooth, confident in a way that should make me stop and think. Should make me ask myself why the fuck I’m still here, still entertaining this, still letting it happen.

But I don’t.

I bring the torch up, flicking the flame on, watching the crystals liquefy and swirl into thick, white vapor. The moment it’s ready, I murmur, “Now.”

Cole inhales, slow and deep, his green eyes flicking up to meet mine as he pulls. And fuck, I need my cock to stop this throbbing.

With that, I break.

I reach for him, grabbing the back of his neck, pulling him toward me, pressing my lips against his as I inhale his hit straight from him. His breath stutters for half a second before he exhales, feeding it into me, the smoke burning between us.

But the second he tries to push deeper, the moment his fingers curl into my shirt, trying to pull me in—I shove him back.

Hard.

Cole stares at me, chest rising and falling, lips still parted, green eyes blown wide with surprise. “What the fuck?”

I drag a hand down my face, breathing hard. “I can’t.”

Cole’s brows pull together, and then—irritation. “The fuck you mean you can’t?”

I shake my head, jaw tight. “Not like this.”

Cole scoffs. “Not like what?”

I glance away, exhaling hard through my nose. I don’t answer. I can’t.

Because I know myself when I’m high like this. I know the way it takes me over—how my dominance turns razor-sharp, how I get aggressive, controlling. I know how I take, and that’s not something you throw at someone who’s never done this before.

Not someone like Cole.

He watches me for a long second, then shakes his head, letting out a frustrated breath. “You’re fucking teasing me.”

I glance at him sharply. “That’s not what this is.”

“Bullshit.” His jaw tightens, his fingers flexing against his knee. “You keep pulling me in just to push me away. What the fuck do you want?”

I don’t answer.

Because I don’t know.

Cole tilts his head slightly, smirking—but it’s pissed now, not amused. “I get it.” He exhales sharply, shaking his head. “You think I can’t handle it.”

I clench my jaw. “Cole—”

“You still think I’m some kid.”

I exhale sharply, fingers curling into fists. “It’s not that—”

“Then what?” His voice is sharp, cutting through the haze. “See? You are a tease. Just like one of your bitches”

I snap.

I grab his jaw, tilting his head up, making him look at me. His lips part, his breath stutters, but he doesn’t pull away.

Cole’s breath hitches, but he doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t pull back. If anything, the challenge in his eyes sharpens, his lips curling at the edges like he wants this reaction from me.

Like he planned for it.

His fingers flex against my wrist where I’ve got him by the throat, testing, feeling the way my grip tightens. But he doesn’t try to pry me off. He just looks at me.

Green eyes dark, lips parted, chest rising and falling.

I lean in closer, my grip firm but controlled, voice dropping lower. “You really wanna test me, Cole?”

His smirk wavers—just slightly—but he holds my gaze. “Maybe.”

I exhale slow, shaking my head. “You think this is a fucking game?”

Cole hums, the sound vibrating against my fingers. “Feels real to me.”

Something deep in me twists at that, something dangerous. The high amplifies everything—the way his skin feels under my hand, the way his body shifts beneath me, the way his breathing picks up just slightly but he doesn’t look away.

I slide my thumb over his jaw, pressing just enough to make him tilt his chin up for me. “You’ve got a smart mouth.”

Cole exhales a slow, shaky breath. “So do something about it.”

I snap.

I crush my mouth against his, swallowing whatever smart-ass remark he was about to throw at me.

Cole doesn’t hesitate. He leans into it, gasping softly against me before he fists my shirt in both hands, pulling me closer, pressing up into me like he’s been waiting for this all night.

And fuck, maybe he has.

I shove him back into the couch, my weight pressing into him, my hands gripping tight—his throat, his waist, his hip—feeling, claiming. He groans, the sound sharp, raw, like he’s never been handled like this before.

Like he’s never wanted to be.

And now he’s got me—high, reckless, dominant—right here, giving him exactly what he asked for.

And I’m not stopping this time.

Not until he knows exactly what it means to push me.

I stand up slowly, rolling my shoulders like I’m shaking off the last bit of restraint. My jaw is tight, my eyes dark, my whole demeanor shifting into something heavier, something final.

Cole watches from the couch, breath still uneven, lips still parted from the force of the last kiss. He doesn’t move yet, just waiting, watching.

I exhales through my nose, running my tongue over my teeth before speaking.

“Get up.”

Cole blinks, his pupils still blown wide, his body still buzzing from the drugs, the tension, everything.

“What?”

I tilt my head, eyes narrowing. “You heard me. Get the fuck up.”

Cole swallows, pushing himself up slowly, cautious, but not scared. Not hesitant. If anything, there’s something eager in the way he moves, like he’s been waiting for m to take control like this.

I sit back down, reaching for the pipe, tapping out another hit. I don’t even look at Cole as I flick the torch on, heating the glass.

“Strip.”

The single word cuts through the thick air.

Cole exhales sharply, his fingers flexing at his sides, his breath catching slightly like it finally hit him—this is happening.

I exhales a thick cloud toward the ceiling before finally looking at Cole again.

“I said strip, faggot.”

I hear him whisper “fuck” under his breath. Like a small whimper. His fingers go to the hem of his shirt, gripping it, lifting it slowly—almost too slow. Testing. Watching my reaction.

I exhale another stream of smoke, my eyes tracking every movement, every inch of skin revealed.

Cole lets the shirt slip off, tossing it aside before moving to the button of his jeans. His fingers work the metal, the sound of the zipper cutting through the thick silence of the room.

I take another hit, inhaling deep, letting the warmth crawl through my veins, amplifying everything.

Cole pushes his jeans down his hips, stepping out of them. He’s standing there now, exposed, chest rising and falling, fingers twitching at his sides. But he’s not shy. He’s not covering himself.

He’s waiting.

I set the pipe down on the table and lean forward, elbows on my knees, dragging my tongue over my bottom lip as I look Cole up and down, taking my time with it.

Not just a pretty face, but a pretty everything. His dick hung their uncut, freshly shaven, smooth until his legs, covered in carpet of hair. I looked up at him with a smirk and motioned for him to turn around.

Now, I’ve seen a lot of ass in my day, but I’ll admit, there’s something about his. Perfectly round, smooth.

Innocent.

I tilt my head, smirking. “Now get over here.”

Cole steps forward, closing the small space between us, his breath coming a little quicker now. He’s standing right in front of me, bare, exposed, but not nervous.

Locking eyes with him, I reach down and tug at the bulge in my pants, gripping myself through the fabric. I was rock hard and couldn’t take it anymore.

“Get on your knees.”

Cole lowers himself.

When he settled onto his knees between my legs, looking up at me with those blown-out green eyes, lips parted, chest still rising and falling—

“Fuck, you look good like that.” I let out greedily

“Now take my cock out of these jeans,” I demanded.

Cole didn’t hesitate. His hands moved immediately to my bulge, one palm pressing firmly against it, his fingers curling to squeeze. A small smirk ghosted across his lips as he felt the weight of me through the denim. Then, with steady hands, he reached for my zipper, dragging it down with agonizing slowness.

I lifted my hips slightly, helping him as he tugged my jeans down past my thighs. The moment they pooled around my ankles, my cock sprang free—thick, uncut, and standing proud, a full nine inches of me throbbing in the open air. My dark pubes framed it, a stark contrast against my skin.

Cole’s breath hitched. His eyes widened, a mix of hunger and awe flashing across his face. He licked his lips unconsciously, his gaze locked onto me like I was the only thing in the world he wanted.

“Go ahead faggot, taste it”

Cole’s breath shuddered as he exhaled, his lips parting, so close I could feel the warmth ghosting over my skin. His fingers tightened instinctively around my shaft, stroking slowly, teasingly, as if testing my patience.

I smirked, threading my fingers through his hair, gripping just enough to make him gasp. “Did you not hear me? Put that mouth to work.” My voice was low, firm, an order he had no intention of disobeying.

With a slow motion he leaned in, his tongue flicking out to taste the head of my cock. A soft groan rumbled in my chest as I watched him, savoring the way his lips stretched over me, the warmth of his mouth enveloping the tip.

“Good faggot,” I murmured, tightening my grip in his hair as I guided him lower.

Cole moaned around me, the vibration sending sparks of pleasure straight to my core. His tongue swirled, tracing every ridge, every sensitive spot, his movements both eager and controlled. His hands braced against my thighs as he took me deeper, inch by inch, his throat relaxing as he pushed himself further.

I let my head fall back against the couch, pleasure surging through me as he worked. The wet heat of his mouth, the way he hollowed his cheeks and sucked, the sinful noises slipping from his throat—it was intoxicating.

“Fuck, just like that,” I praised, looking down at him. His eyes met mine, dark and needy, desperate to please.

I gave him what he wanted, thrusting gently into his mouth, watching as his lips stretched wider, as his throat tensed around me. He took it, moaning as if he needed this as much as I did. His fingers dug into my thighs, urging me on, silently begging for more.

And who was I to deny him?

I tightened my grip in his hair, yanking his head back just enough to force his eyes up to mine. His lips were already slick, parted, desperate for more.

“You’re taking your time,” I murmured, my thumb brushing over his swollen bottom lip before pressing against his tongue. He let me, obedient, his eyes dark with need. “I didn’t tell you to tease, did I?”

He shook his head, my thumb still resting on his tongue, making him struggle to answer.

“No, Sir,” he managed, voice hoarse, breathless.

I smirked. “Then do it right.”

Without hesitation, he parted his lips wider, taking me back into the heat of his mouth. This time, I didn’t let him set the pace. My hand in his hair held him still as I pushed deeper, his throat tightening around me as he tried to adjust. His fingers gripped my thighs, nails digging in, but he didn’t pull away. He knew better.

“Relax,” I ordered, my other hand settling heavy on his jaw, guiding him. His lashes fluttered, a choked sound escaping him as I pressed deeper. When he finally opened up for me, his throat flexing, I groaned in satisfaction.

“That’s it,” I praised, keeping my grip firm as I began to fuck his mouth in slow, deliberate strokes. His moans vibrated around me, sending pleasure curling through my spine. I controlled every movement, every inch he took, every breath he struggled for. He let me. He wanted this—wanted to be used, to be owned.

His hands trembled against my thighs, but he didn’t resist. He let me push, let me test his limits. My cock slid deeper, his throat tightening, and I held him there for a beat, watching the way his eyes watered, the way his body shuddered.

“Look at you,” I murmured, thumb stroking his jaw as I pulled back, letting him gasp for air before pushing in again. “So desperate to please.”

A needy whimper escaped him.

I held him there for a moment longer, feeling the way his throat flexed around me, the way his breath hitched, his body shaking from the effort of keeping still. His fingers clenched against my thighs, his chest rising and falling in shallow, controlled breaths.

Then, finally, I eased back, my grip in his hair loosening as I pulled out of his mouth. A wet gasp tore from his throat as he sagged against me, his lips red and glistening, spit connecting us in thin strands that broke as he swallowed hard.

I let my thumb trace the edge of his jaw, tilting his face up so he had no choice but to meet my gaze. His eyes were hazy, his pupils blown wide, his chest still heaving as he tried to steady himself.

“Breathe,” I ordered, my tone softer now, but no less commanding.

“Think you can handle more, boy?”

His breath hitched, but his answer came immediately this time—steady, certain.

“Yes, Sir.”

I tilted his chin up higher, forcing him to hold my gaze. “That’s what I like to hear.”

Then I leaned in, my lips ghosting over his ear as I whispered my next command.

“Stand up,” I ordered.

He moved immediately, though his legs shook slightly as he rose. I watched the way his chest rose and fell, the way his fingers twitched at his sides as he fought the urge to reach for me, to cling to whatever I decided to give him.

“Turn around,” I murmured.

His lips parted slightly, his pupils still blown wide, but he obeyed without question. I let my eyes drag over him as he turned, taking in the way his body tensed under my gaze, the way he seemed to fight the urge to squirm.

“Good boy,” I praised, letting my hand trail down his spine, slow and deliberate. I felt the shudder that rippled through him, the way he sucked in a breath as my palm ghosted lower.

Then I leaned in, my lips grazing the shell of his ear as I gave my next command.

“Bend over.”

For a split second, he hesitated—just long enough for me to tangle my fingers in his hair and pull his head back slightly.

“You heard me.” My voice was low, firm, leaving no room for doubt. “Bend over.”

A whimper slipped from his throat as he nodded, his body moving instinctively to obey. He braced himself against the nearest surface, his hands gripping the edge as he arched his back slightly, presenting himself exactly how I wanted him.

I smirked, trailing my fingers down his spine again, feeling the way he shuddered under my touch.

“Now that’s a sight,” I murmured, stepping back just enough to take him in fully. “So eager. So obedient.”

I let my palm rest on his lower back, pressing down just enough to keep him in place.

“But let’s see if you can stay that way.”

[Deepnrawnyc3]

Very Hot !! Hoping there's a slam or two in Cole's future! Definitely need. more of this story!

[dazzasboy]

Great start love to see where Cole ends up

[negchaserlooking]

Holy fuck, a slow smouldering seduction. 

[versmetropig]

DAMNATION! Now that is ultra hot @Ultraviolence, ultra hot. Hot characters with an exceptional and non-standard plot, incredible descriptions of the guys and the process of pnp... superb!

[jockdaddy69]

Fucking awesome start.  I get the feeling Cole is going to quickly get much more than he can handle...and be changed forever.

[Bttm2go]

Fuck! So hot. Can’t wait for more.

[Dirtymindedpig]

Love Cole saying he doesn't want to be him. That's how I am a lot of the times when I party