AN: Wow, four reviews already!! Waves happy flags Right-o, what I was going to say is, this is where the real story starts snickers evily And as I already mentioned, I will fully admit to these characters being rather OOC, this is more about my issues working themselves out than being a good fanfic… Sorry for the short-ness of the chapters . I'm a n00b… Also sorry to all y'all expecting a Jay/Dylan fic, for this is not…
Part 2 – Claimed
Jay scoffed at the three small black words in front of him in the bathroom. Fucking fag, stealing what's mine… It was the Italian's entire fault he didn't have a nice ass to fuck any time he wanted anymore. The only reason he had gotten so pissed at Dylan was because the little flamer had been flirting with his property.
Speak of the devil, look who it is, none other than Marco Del Rossi. Words went spilling out his mouth before he had a chance to run them through his mind, taunts, but what else was new? "…And if you need a good fuck, I'm always here," well, that was obviously new. Might be sadistically pleasurable, though, fucking Dylan's new boy.
Marco's eyes had widened at Jay's last statement, his throat closing up, leaving just enough space for him to choke out a, "What?"
Jay smirked at the confused look on the short one's face, advancing on him like a wolf about to attack. "You heard me Del Rossi, I'm here if you need to be fucked." By the time he finished, his advance on Marco had driven Marco back against the wall. The devilish grin was stuck on Jay's face as his rough hands spun Marco's frail shoulders around so he was facing the tile.
Marco didn't protest, though, he just stood there gaping at the wall as a hand slid down his spine, making him shiver. The shiver was killed almost instantaneously be teeth sinking into the back of his neck, a slight gasp falling from his lips as he winced at the pain; as Jay's teeth pulled themselves out of Marco's skin, hushed words slipped into his ear, "You are mine now, Del Rossi, I have marked you, and now you're mine."
In a flash Jay was gone. Marco stayed where he was, part in shock, part in fear. Reluctantly Marco pealed himself from against the cold tile and took paced over to the mirror. He had to move his neck around awkwardly to see it, but the bruise was there, deep within his skin, a sharp purple in contrast to his natural skin tone. He couldn't stop looking at it, and wondering what on earth Jay had done, and meant. His? How can he belong to someone?