CH - 3 [Nikolai] PT - 1

K

NIKOLAI

olya Jr. has been an adventurous whore since he got his first boner at

the fresh age of five.

It was such a marvelous discovery when I found my then-wiener

hard that I giggled with glee. Then I proceeded to run all over our house,

dangling, pointing, and showing it off to anyone who crossed my path while

shouting, “Look! I have a gun!”

Dad laughed his head off. Mom looked like she was going to either

throw up or burst into flames.

Good times.

For me and my dad. Definitely not for my mom since she was covering

my twin sisters’ eyes, ushering them inside, and telling me to get my weenie

back in my pants.

I pouted as I muttered, “But my weenie really likes the air.”

Mom looked at the sky, probably to the invisible big bro up there, and

when that didn’t work, she directed her gaze at the actual semblance of a

real God in our lives. My dad.

After he laughed his ass off—five out of five sense of humor on that

man, love him—he helped me pack a pouty Kolya away, and sure as shit,

my dick had every right to be offended since his first show was put to a

nonconsensual halt.

Dad told me that I actually couldn’t use my wiener as a gun. At least,

not yet—see, told you that man has the best sense of humor, as expected of

my dad—and stripping in front of my baby sisters is a no-no.

He also said the stupid rule where I couldn’t be naked all the time.

Fucking social restrictions and all that bullshit.

At any rate, that was the official birth of Kolya Jr., or Kolya for short.

Kolya happens to be the Russian diminutive form of my name, but it’s

rarely used, and only by my very Russian grandfather, who snarls at the

reality that Niko won the nickname battle a hundred to one.

And no, Grandpa doesn’t know I actually call my dick Kolya or I’d

need to revoke my Russian card. And that’s no fun. I breathe vodka.

Anyway, ever since that boner incident, Kolya has become the sluttiest,

most adventurous cock anyone would ever meet.

He’s resourceful, to put it mildly, and a flat-out whore if we’re being

fucking blunt.

Part of his extended arsenal is being easy to satisfy. Give him a willing

hole and he’s weeping in joy—literally.

So imagine my goddamn bafflement when he woke up today and chose

the silent treatment.

I presented an especially sexually frustrated Kolya with his favorite

flavors. At the same time.

A dick and a pussy? Fucking jackpot, if you ask me.

After the initiation, I got back to the Heathens’ mansion and shot three

of my contacts a text to come and worship at Kolya’s altar.

All three of them replied, so what the fuck? A foursome sounded like

fun, so I told them to come the fuck over, and they did, stacked with weed

and booze, and one was chewing on a blue pill.

Not sure you’re supposed to chew on it, but I couldn’t be bothered and

gave him vodka to help…uh…with digestion and shit.

Don’t ask me how I know those two guys and the girl. The girl is from

school, probably. Again, don’t ask what happens at school. I’m studying

business there, but I’ve barely attended any classes since I’ve been at

college. As long as I keep my GPA up, thanks to my superior genes, nobody

cares. Me included.

The two guys, anyone’s guess. I happen to attract a lot of attention—

might have to do with Kolya’s extravagant magic cross piercing that many

swear made them see heaven.

Or hell. Depending on their kink.

Also, it might have to do with how unbothered I am by any request.

Once, a girl was like, “Choke me, Daddy,” and I nearly killed her. In my defense, she didn’t specify how hard I should choke her, so I went with the

flow—the flow being maximum violence.

Another guy sent me a text saying, “Are you looking for a doormat?

Because you can step on me any day and I’d bend over and take it.” So I

did just that and stepped on him. What? He asked for it and, I kid you not,

he jizzed all over my room. Then he did bend over and took it.

Fun times.

Last night, however, most definitely was not.

It was so far from fun, it gave me fucking whiplash.

I had three sexy-as-fuck people at my disposal and Kolya was playing

hard to get like a virgin motherfucker. Which he’s not.

For the first time in my nineteen years of life, I couldn’t get off. Not

when they offered their mouths, holes, and everything in between. In fact, I

wasn’t even motivated to release Kolya from his least favorite confinement

—my pants.

They soon forgot about me and turned to one another while I watched,

sitting on the stairs and nursing a bottle of good ole vodka. It was a

threesome of epic proportions that started with making out, sucking each

other off, and both guys double penetrating the girl and fucking her

senseless until she nearly passed out. At some point, they pushed her aside.

Viagra boy clearly couldn’t get enough, so he bent the other guy over,

fucked him, then nutted in his ass. Or I think he did. Because that’s the

point where I fell asleep.

At the bottom of the stairs.

If that doesn’t tell you how desperate Kolya’s state of no fun is, I don’t

know what would.

Not the sleeping at the bottom of the stairs part, because I swear to fuck

my body can only lull itself to sleep on anything that isn’t a bed. It comes

with my head’s fucked-up state of mind.

This is about the not-participating part. Usually, I’d be all over that shit,

and, in retrospect, bringing the beautiful queer energy out of everyone.

There’s a reason why people say yes whenever I shoot them a text. I’m a

guaranteed source of crazy fun.

Last night, not only did I not fuck my way through multiple holes, but I

was also bored.

Completely and utterly indifferent.

Like I was earlier, when the professor was about to give me head. Hot

bombshell with luscious lips and everything.

Kolya was almost hard but didn’t want her lips anywhere near his

goddamn annoying presence.

Fuck.

I walk through the door of the mansion after school and stop in the

entrance hall, tug my T-shirt over my head, and throw it down. My necklace

that Dad gifted me jostles free and I stroke the bullet that hangs from it

before I let it fall to my naked chest.

There. Much better.

People should be thankful I wear pants. Fucking prude society could use

a chill pill. I have a beautiful body and I would rather show it off instead of

keeping it tucked away. The same applies to my monster cock. I’m usually

hella proud of Kolya’s size and porn star-level performance, but today is not

it.

I narrow my eyes on the half-tent in my pants. “The fuck is wrong with

you, motherfucker?”

Is it all the fucking? No. Hell no. That’s what he thrives on. It’s why he

chose to be completely cool with any hole. Endless options and all that.

Maybe I should extend those options… But to whom? I’ve been literally

fucking my way through any and all of the population available at my

disposal.

Let’s rewind.

What could’ve happened to trigger Kolya’s silent treatment? He’s been

caught in this strange stage where he’s about to grow a boner but never

exactly gets there.

Yesterday morning, I was coming all over an ass and a pussy, or was it

two asses and a pussy? Anyway, I was a bit high at the time, so who knows

how many?

What I do know, however, is that Kolya was definitely pumped up for

the highly awaited event—the initiation. Punching people to near death?

Holding power over their insignificant existence?

Fucking ecstatic.

Kolya was most certainly feeling himself and had the night of his

dickish life, especially after…

A twitch rushes to my groin and I pause.

He was feeling himself more than usual when…

A reluctant, uptight preppy boy was gliding his firm ass all over him.

“Oh no.” I glare down at my pants. “Fuck no, you fucking fuck.”

He twitches again as if saying, “Fuck yeah.”

“The fuck are you? A masochist? He said he was straight. Told you to

keep your nonsense away from him as if it were an insult.”

My dick doesn’t understand insults, since he has the moral compass of a

used condom, and remains standing at attention like an eager kid in class.

“You need to get yourself fucking checked, dude. Preferably by an

exorcist so they can get those demons out and shit.”

Now that I think about it, when I was falling asleep, I wasn’t seeing the

hot threesome, but the up and down of a gorgeous Adam’s apple as he

flinched, jerked, and swallowed thickly.

Fuck me sideways.

Kolya is definitely hard and in the mood now. Maybe if I get him the

same flavor as the three from last night…

He flops down so fast, I curse his goddamned maker.

It’s me. I’m the maker.

“Fuck you right the fuck off, motherfucker,” I mutter.

I don’t fuck with straight guys.

At all.

Many of them have fragile egos and macho manly energy that pisses me

off and propels me to sudden, impulsive violence. I prefer queers who are

comfortable in their own sexuality, like myself, thank you very much.

The only time I hover near a heterosexual man is if he’s a lost bi-curious

lamb who wants to experiment. In that case, I make it my mission to take

him to heaven. Like an angel did to some prophet—don’t ask me what his

name is; I can’t even remember mine half the time.

Brandon King does not belong on any of my lists of interest.

He’s too uptight and closed off, not to mention standoffish and arrogant.

His entire existence should give me a serious case of erectile dysfunction.

Jesus fuck.

That guy could use a chill pill. Or a few. In fact, someone should shove

the entire bottle down his throat and make him choke on it.

Fuck him and his back off and stop touching me.

I’m straight. Like fuck he is.

He nearly bounced on my cock and he sat there so prettily while I was

nursing an erection of epic proportions for a whole five minutes. Not that I

Was counting or anything.

Or maybe I was. To prove his theory.

Straight, my ass. Or his, to be more specific—pun totally intended.

I should note that during that time, his sister walked by and he nearly

lost his marbles, which is probably why he remained frozen for a long

period of time, but I digress.

I’m completely uninterested in his mythical straight battle. Fuck that

right the fuck off, if you ask me.

The reason I invited him to the initiation was solely to mess with his

twin brother. The major asshole who leads the preppy kids in the Elites and

thinks he could go head-to-head with us.

A few nights ago, Landon and I fought at one of my favorite places on

the island—the fight club. I was so pumped to pummel that English prick to

the ground in front of his wannabe fans.

But then Brandon showed up and stood there like the prince version of

his brother.

I admit that I lost concentration because he looked so fucking agitated at

the prospect of Landon being beaten to death, and I also admit Kolya

appreciated the view.

He’s hot. And it’s different on him than his show-off, in-your-face

brother.

Brandon has a quieter presence and carries himself in a total golden-boy

fashion.

Slick brown hair, groomed face, tall and slim frame, but muscled. Yup,

don’t let those preppy clothes fool you. Asshole has abs. All six of them. I

counted them yesterday since I had nothing else to do with my hands. I

would’ve preferred to let my hand go down a more fun path, but I doubt

grouchy Brandon would’ve been thrilled.

Anyway…stop sidetracking. Now, brain. I mean it.

I almost lost that fight because Brandon got in the way. Side note, I

don’t usually get distracted during fights because of this lame reason, I

assure you.

So, naturally, I had to mess with Bran the way he dared to mess with

me. And it so happened that the initiation was coming up and I couldn’t

miss that chance.

Since he was so concerned about his idiot brother, I made up a whole

drama about his participation. It was a shot in the dark. I really thought Brandon wouldn’t fall for it, since he’s this major snob who looks down on

people like me from his high horse.

Imagine my fucking surprise when he walked right in like a lost lamb.

A straight lost lamb.

What I didn’t expect was his subtle aggressiveness and hints of

submissiveness peeking from beneath the mask of rigorous control that he

wears like a second skin.

From the outside looking in, he seems too boring and snobbish and like

he could use some drugs. Maybe a mixture of them would help loosen up

the layer of asshole wrapped around him.

However, something changed when he was put under pressure—his

body trembled and he struggled to hide behind his mask, literally and

figuratively.

My dick jumps at the memory of him remaining as still as a statue on

my lap. I don’t think he noticed it, but he had both his palms flat on his

thighs like a well-behaved prince.

But then he left before I could convince the others to add him to our

club. Not that they would’ve agreed, and Jeremy looked fucking horrified

when he found out his identity, but oh well. I just wanted to toy with him a

little.

Use him against his brother if the shoe fit.

Maybe destroy his fantasies about being straight in the meantime. I’ve

never played around with straight men, but this was too tempting to pass up.

Blood rushes to my groin and I mutter, “Fuck you, you fucking fuck.

You need help.”

“You need help, Niko.” My cousin Killian brushes past me on the way

inside, accompanied by his brother, Gareth, and my best friend, Jeremy.

They must’ve finished school and come back together, which I

should’ve probably done as well.

But oh well, I forgot.

Jeremy stops a few inches away from me. He’s an inch shorter than me

and definitely the most muscled after yours truly. He’s a few years older,

but he’s been my best friend for as long as I remember. I might have

pestered him for it, though.

He pushes his dark hair away from his face and narrows his eyes.

“Niko, please tell me you weren’t talking to invisible people just now.”

“Of course not. I was having a very frustrating conversation with my

dick.”

“That’s even worse.” Gareth shoves my shoulder and chuckles.

My older cousin, twenty-one, is the prince of our little group of

mayhem. Slick blond hair, sharp jaw, green eyes like some elf, and fucking

dimples. The problem with him is that he’s wiser than should be allowed. It

makes him a little boring, just saying.

He’s worlds apart from his younger brother, Kill, who’s my age—dark

hair, piercing blue eyes, and possesses the personality of a serial killer. My

favorite type of personality. The crazier, the better.

He’s a prick, but at least he’s a prick who doesn’t try to stop me from

causing mayhem, and, under certain circumstances, he endorses and

encourages it.

“Why would you even talk to your dick?” Jeremy asks, looking half

curious, half petrified. Which is pretty much the standard when it comes to

me.

“We’re having a difference of opinion. We’ll come to an agreement

sooner or later.”

“Or you can take care of that ED we talked about earlier. I can hook you

up with one of my professors in the local hospital,” Kill muses as he strolls

past me and sits on the sofa, grinning like a fucker who’ll have that Colgate

smile smashed when I knock out his fucking teeth.

“If you wanna see my dick again, just say so.” I grab my belt, ready to

die on this hill.

Gareth slams his hand on mine, a terrified expression covering his

features. “Don’t show us your dick, Niko. Seriously, why do you feel the

need to get naked whenever someone mentions your dick? We’re cousins,

for fuck’s sake.”

“Well, your brother keeps running his mouth about ED and I want to

prove that I don’t have it.”

“We believe you,” Jeremy grunts with obvious displeasure. “Keep that

thing in your pants. No one in this room wants to see it.”

“I don’t believe you.” Kill lifts a shoulder as he toys with the remote.

“Kill!” Gareth growls. “Stop encouraging his crazy or he’ll be walking

around naked for a couple of days.”

“Good idea.” I snap my fingers at him. “You’re so smart, Gaz.”

His face falls. “Please don’t.”

Killian throws his head back in laughter while Jeremy sighs for the

thousandth time since he got here and then sits beside him. His state of

bubbling displeasure might have to do with me, but I honest to fuck don’t

know what I did or am doing wrong.

“Oh, right!” I snap my fingers again and sit opposite Kill and Jer.

Gareth disappears in the background and I catch a glimpse of him going

up the stairs, probably to escape my pending exhibitionism.

But that’s a thought for another time.

“What now?” Kill asks with visible amusement. “You going to tell us a

tale about your dick?”

“Tempting, but I’ll have to take a rain check on that. I’ve been

thinking.”

“You actually do that? Maybe we should check that head of yours when

you receive that treatment for the ED.”

“Haha. Hilarious,” I deadpan. “Now, shut the fuck up. I have a very

important question to ask. Have you ever been attracted to a guy?”

Kill crosses his legs at the ankles. “You do know that I hook up with

anyone, right? Gender doesn’t matter as long as they have a hole I can use.”

Right. He did go on a spree similar to mine, but that was different. I

don’t think he’s genuinely attracted to people in any shape or form. He just

loves the power.

I do, too, so fucking much that the fact that I haven’t had my fill in a

while—the while being thirty-six hours—is causing Kolya’s friends the

infamous blue balls situation.

Kill is useless. Next.

“What about you, Jer?”

“I don’t find men attractive.” He frowns. “What’s this about?”

“Yeah, Niko. Don’t tell me you’re having a sexuality crisis after you’ve

been bi for over four years?”

I ignore Kill because he’s too manwhorish to offer me the angle I’m

looking for and sit on the coffee table, leaning into Jeremy’s space. “Why

have you never been attracted to men?”

“Because I prefer women. What kind of question is that?”

My face is so close to his, anyone else would be intimidated and jerk

back, but Jeremy doesn’t even breathe differently or attempt to move. He’s

so confident in his straight sexuality that he’s not fazed by my outwardly

weird behavior.

“You got a boner for Jeremy?” Kill asks from the side like a witch that

will be burned in hell while Satan cackles manically.

“Nope.” I push back. “He’s straighter than straight.”

“Thanks?” Jer mutters.

“That wasn’t a compliment.”

He releases that defeated sigh again. “What’s going on, Niko?”

“Get me someone to maim. That’s what’s going on.” I jump up and run

up the stairs three at a time, sprint down the hall, then whip the door to

Gareth’s room open and shove it against the wall.

He looks up from his desk, pausing on doing homework like a boring

prick. Jesus. If he didn’t indulge in some violence on occasion, I would’ve

already disowned him.

No cousin of mine becomes boring and gets away with it.

“Gee, thanks for the death scare. Please don’t tell me you’ll start

stripping…?”

I stalk toward him, eyes narrowed.

“Don’t you dare, Niko, or I swear I’ll tell Aunt Rai about your annoying

habits—”

“Have you ever been attracted to men?”

It’s subtle, and I probably wouldn’t have noticed it if I’d stayed by the

door, but Gareth’s eyes widen a little.

He drops his pen on his notebook and exhales loudly. “What are you

talking about?”

“You’ve always fucked women, but have you done that because you

feel you have to due to peer pressure and what’s defined by society as

normal or because you want to?”

“What is this about?” He stands up. “What did you hear?”

“What should I have heard?”

His face falls for a fraction of a second and I step into his space. “So?

What? Tell me. Tell me! What should I have heard?”

He pushes me away. “Stop doing that shit.”

“Not until you answer my question.”

He runs a hand over his face. “I love women. Happy?”

“What about men?”

“I…don’t know. Could be.” His eyes spark like a tropical forest before

he clears his throat. “Why are you probing?”

“I’m testing something. When did you discover you like men?”

“I don’t like men. Jesus.” He jogs to the door and slams it shut, then

leans against it, arms and ankles crossed “I’m not sure. I don’t know. I love

fucking women, but…”

“But what?” I walk up to him and then peer down at him until I can see

the tiny freckles on his nose. “What changed your mind?”

“I didn’t change my mind and, seriously, stop looking so intense. It’s

creepy.”

“Blah fucking blah, just tell me what made your straight ass sway on the

line. Figuratively, of course.” I grin. “Or is it literally?”

“Fuck you, asshole.” He closes his eyes with pure exasperation. “If you

tell anyone about this, especially Kill, I’ll murder you.”

“I won’t if you just fess up. What made you change lanes?”

“I’m not sure I did—or would, for that matter. It’s just…one person.

That’s it.”

One person.

One. Person.

That’s it.

Fucking interesting.

I ruffle Gareth’s hair and offer courses in butt stuff, but I’m not even

done enumerating things he should know before he proceeds to throw me

out and shut the door in my face.

His groans can be heard through the door as I grin and walk down the

hall.

On a scale of straighter-than-straight Jer to fluid-as-lube Kill to

confused-as-shit Gareth, I wonder where Brandon King falls.

Not that I’m tempted to find out.

That would be crazy.

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***