Barre—Backed

The beat was in Pete’s bones. The studio echoed with the rhythmic squeaks of Pete’s sneakers and that of his crew against the polished dance floor.

Sweat dripped down his brow, but he didn’t care. The regional competition was three weeks away, and their routine needed to be perfect. The hip hop showcase was one of Axiom Studio's pride, and he was the headliner.

His crew mirrored him, following his movements and body's fluidity at once—until their music cut mid-drop.

“Again?” Pete growled, turning to face the studio glass. Sure enough, the ballet class on the other side had flipped the speaker connection. Their music—something orchestral and older than God himself, drifted in, reverberating through the glass.

A cluster of ballet dancers lined up, chuckling softly in their flats, eyes darting toward them like they were wild animals they had to endure.

And at the center, as always, was William Whitlock. With his curly hair, sculpted cheekbones, and the smugness of someone born to look down on people.

In all his high-arched glory, he leaned at the barre, his back straight, his white shirt and leotards clinging to him in all the wrong—and unfortunately right—places. 

He wasn’t even dancing, he just watched them—more like glaring at Pete’s crew like they were some sort of circus act instead of actual dancers.

Pete walked over to the glass divider, narrowed his eyes, and lifted his middle finger at the ballet dancers but more to William. 

William didn’t flinch. He arched his brow and looked at Pete like he was a stain on the glass, then he calmly mouthed; “Eat my ass.”

“The nerve of him, he’s lucky there's glass between us,” Pete muttered, spinning back toward his crew.

“He’s lucky you like him,” Marlo, his dance partner, teased, sipping from her water bottle.

“I don’t,” Pete snapped too quickly. “I don’t like ballet boys. Especially not that stiff-ass Ken doll.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Marlo smirked, “and maybe one day you'll eventually believe it.”

Pete glared at her, but she winked at him and backed off chuckling. 

He clapped his hands out of frustration, to get his crew's attention and then announced. “We'll call it a day, there's no use arguing with those barbies for the speaker.” 

Groans of relief rose from the crew. They peeled off their shoes, packed their bags, and massaged their feet and shoulders, then all filtered out giving each other exhausted waves and high fives.

When they all left, Pete took out his earbuds and scrolled through a playlist of music he had chosen for their competition.  

He intended to stay behind and continue practicing until he perfected his routine. His energy was fueled by the hatred he had for the ballet dancers, especially William. 

William was a pain in the arse and Pete hated everything about him, he hated the way he stared condescendingly at him, the stupid words that came out of his perfect little mouth, the way his hair managed to stay perfect even after practice, and his fragile lean physique. 

But what Pete hated the most was how perfect his ass looked in his leotards and how tempted he'd always been to smack it just to see if it'd bounce.

Pete didn't realise how long he'd been practicing until he was done with his solo and noticed the studio was empty. It seemed the ballet dancers had finished their routine and left a long time ago. 

He grabbed his bag and left the studio in silence, towel slung around his neck, his sweat drying in sticky streaks down his back. The locker room was dead quiet, the lights had been dimmed for the night, the floors echoing with each of his footsteps.

He pushed the bathroom door open with a shoulder, not expecting anything but then a sight made him freeze in his tracks.

William stood at the far end of the bathroom, one hand braced on the sink and the other stroking his cock slowly. His shirt was bunched just above his waist, his leotard pushed down to mid-thigh, exposing his lean, dancer’s frame of corded muscle and smooth skin. 

His mouth was slightly open, while his breath grew shallow. His head was thrown back while his eyes were closed picturing whatever he was jerking off to. 

Pete’s throat went dry. Watching William should’ve been awkward, it should’ve been gross. But it wasn’t. He wanted to leave but his legs betrayed him so instead he stayed and watched, it all felt surreal to him.

Williams' strokes slowed, and he shifted slightly, his eyes fluttering open, only to freeze when he saw Pete. 

A wicked smile formed on his face and he continued stroking himself as Pete watched. “You like what you see, Petey?

“You sick fuck.” Pete stepped backwards, fist curling into a ball.

William rolled his eyes at him, still lazily stroking himself, “Like you don't enjoy watching me.” 

“Why would I enjoy watching you? The sight of you sickens me.” 

William looked down at his pelvis and up with a smile, “If I make you sick, then why are you hard?” 

Pete’s hand immediately darted to cover the growing bulge in his sweats, his heart slamming against his ribs. 

William stepped forward without hesitation, crowding his space. He grabbed Pete’s wrists and shoved them aside, pinning him to the cold, tiled wall. His grip was deceptively strong for someone as lean as he was.

He rubbed Pete’s cock through the fabric, his eyes widening at the size. “Ouu,” he moaned, “what a big boy we have here.” 

Pete jerked his head away in embarrassment, whispering, “Don't do that.”

“Don’t do what?” William leaned in, lips brushing just under Pete’s jaw. “Don’t touch you?” He rubbed him slowly. “Don’t talk dirty?” His breath was warm against Pete’s skin. “Don’t make you feel good?” 

Pete wanted to punch him, he also wanted to groan at how good it felt. He closed his eyes trying to fight off every sensation he felt at the moment.

“Don't resist me Petey, I know you want this, I've seen the way you look at me.” William breathed on his neck and Pete could feel every of his common sense slowly slip away with every rub William gave him. “You think I'm hot don't you, you've dreamed of this day your entire life.” 

“Shut up.” Pete growled, still not meeting his eyes.

“I know you just want to fuck my dainty little ass.” William teased and Pete grabbed him almost immediately, turning him and slamming him against the tiled wall.

“I said, shut up!” He yelled, finally making eye contact with him. His aggression surprised William who widened his eyes in shock and then gave him a smug smile.

“Make me.” 

Pete wanted to wipe off that smugness from his face, he wanted to show him that he was more than beneath him, so without deciding he did the first thing that came to his head.

He crushed his lips on William’s. Their mouths moved with teeth and tongue. William tasted of breath mints and a little bit of salt. He lifted his head to look at William’s flushed face and a hint of satisfaction washed over him. He'd always wanted to see the little cunt in this state.

“You’re such a smug little prick,” Pete growled, his other hand sliding into William’s hair and pulling his head back.

“And you’re so repressed it’s tragic,” William panted, grinding up against him, cock hard and slick against Pete’s thigh. “Bet you’ve thought about this too.”

“I also bet you've thought about this too,” Pete said, pushing him down to his knees but his grip on his ever curly hair remained. He lifted his face up and the look on William’s face was unmistakable, the little bastard was enjoying it. 

Pete nodded to his pants, “Take it out.” He whispered and William's eyes jumped for joy as he quickly undid Pete’s pants. 

He gasped when Pete’s cock sprung out and then licked his lips as he took in its actual size. “I can't believe you carry this around with you Petey.” He moaned and ran his fingers along the length. 

Pete hissed, throwing his head back as William began working on the shaft. “Put it in your mouth.” He groaned. 

William smiled as he slowly licked the tip of Pete’s cock, then he made his way down the shaft to his trimmed pelvis area. When he was sure he had lubricated its entire length, he took it in his mouth.

He bobbed his head up and down, making eye contact with Pete who wondered how William could swallow his entire length. Pete didn't want to think about it too much, instead his grabbed a fistful of his hair and moved his hips with rhythm—fucking William’s mouth. Nothing felt hotter to Pete than watching his dick slide in and out of William’s pretty mouth.

After a short while, William tapped on his legs and he pulled his dick out of his mouth, leaving William gasping for air. 

Pete pulled him up, and reached in for another kiss, but this time his hands found its way to William’s ass and he whispered, “Be a good boy and turn around so I can fuck your ass real good.”