Dash couldn't really say he minded too much when the entire class seemed to notice the way that he stumbled into the room, Mr. Emery, the Biology teacher (at least, that's what he thought his name was) pulling him aside for his flushed face, noting the way he seemed to be limping, but he assured him

He was just fine.

Others could immediately smell him, he knew, noticing the say others seemed to move away from him, pinching his nose, but he didn't exactly have time to get washed up again, remembering, though the static and fuzz that coated his mind, the way his father had practically shoved him out of the trailer. Heck, the boy began with an empty grin, he could recall that his pants were still down, feeling the brush of the chilly, Autumn along his backside as blood smeared on the grass.

The boy absentmindedly noted how he could still feel it, the sticky, red fluid collecting in his underwear in a warm, wet pool, the way his father's cum crunched and brushed up against the fabric, or maybe he'd missed some from before, thankful that his father had at least been willing to lend him a pair of dark sweatpants, a bit big around his waist (like most things were), but a pin held them up just fine. He still wore his black shirt today, though.

'You like it rough, whore.'

'You were crying 'Daddy!', 'Daddy'!'

'You're gonna make a mess on your chair.'

Part of him wondered if he should check, if he should put toilet paper in his pants again, paying little mind to the voices' taunting.

That usually worked well enough.

But he couldn't right now because he'd get in trouble.

That would be bad, you know?

Through his hazy, exhausted eyes, he navigated the narrow rows of the class until he got to this own, trying his best to ease himself into the chair, gently, gently so at least the pain could be bearable.

But it didn't stop it, the way his back and bottom screamed as at him, screamed at him as he placed his head in his arms, face contorted in a silent scream that he wished desperately to release, body tensing and shifting as the intense discomfort flared like fiery tongues, lapping up from the bottom up as tears budded in his eyes.

'I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm fine. Stop being such a baby.' The boy chided himself, grasping his desk tightly as if to center himself, but his grip became a vice as a hand was placed on his shoulder, suddenly feeling very, very sick.

Horribly so as what little food that he had in him sloshed violently at the contact.

'No, Dad, please. Not again, not right now,-'

And it was Kwan that sat at the end of it, Dash sitting up but turning around slowly, feeling his face twitch unnaturally under the pressure of the other student's eyes, but he had to center himself. Kwan wanted to talk to him, just Kwan right now.

He could handle that much, right?

"Oh, h-hey, dude! How...how are ya?" Why was his voice so tired, so...heavy? His throat felt...dry, his mouth still tasted of bitterness, of salt.

Their cocks still in his throat, the way he gagged around them, the salty taste that coated his tongue-

'No, focus! I'm fine, I-I'm okay. Just look at Kwan and speak.' Readjusting himself, noticing that the other had since let him go, easing into an uneasy gaze that made Dash want to run from it.

Why was he looking at him like that?

Couldn't he tell that he was fine?

"Better than you look right now. Dude, what happened to you? You look really, really bad." Dash didn't miss the way his eyes scanned him, picking up the disheveled state of his clothes, the darkness of his eyes, the pallor state of his skin; the former wouldn't have to say he was disgusting for him to know it was true.

Dash knew that better than anyone.

Subconsciously, he felt his arms begin to coil in, attempting to pull his jacket in if only to cover the impression of his bones beneath his ratty, black shirt, or the stench that came from so long without a shower, his family home not having one.

They snared around, seeking to cover what they could from his eyes, yet Dash still smiled, though he could sort of feel it waver beneath the pressure of his exhaustion.

"Oh, this? It was just, uh, a...a dog. Yeah, a dog. Took me by surprise and tried to bite me, but it's cool." Looking back, that story was pretty unbelievable. He figured it was better than not saying anything, Dash recalling with sharp accuracy his father telling him to never tell anyone their secrets, lest he want to make him upset, and who knows what would happen if he had loose lips, you know?

But he wasn't exactly the world's best liar, either.

He could tell that Kwan didn't believe him immediately, and it wasn't easy to see why. There weren't any bites, nothing to indicate an animal had even attempted such a thing, not to mention his flushed, paling skin, the sweat that beaded his forehead; all things that had nothing to do with that.

"A dog? Seriously, Dash? You expect me to believe that? You better come out with it before I,-" Wagner cut into the middle of it, noting that they had been disrupting the class, and Dash thanked him for it, trying his best to stifle the distinct tremor that rattled his body at what he could only tell was a threat from Kwan.

What was he going to do?

Had he made him mad, too?

He clenched the desk even harder, his knuckles turning white.

Looking tentatively to his left, Kwan wasn't looking at him anymore, appearing to focus on his work and with little knowledge that Dash had been staring at him, but Dash?

He knew better.

'Oh god, what am I gonna do?! What am I gonna do?! He's so angry with me; what am I supposed to do?!' Dash began in a small panic, his leg beginning to shake.

'Fuck yeah he's mad, you lying little shit. You deserve everything that's coming to you.'

'But what was I supposed to do?' I can't tell him, or...or does he know already? How would he know? How did he find out?' His leg began to shake harder, his heart beginning to race.

'You've been found out! They all know! They all know who you really are!

'No! No! How?! How did they find out?! I never told anyone any-' The voice cut him off as his eyes began to dart about the room, and they were right, the boy began to think, noticing their laughter coming from the walls, the way that they pointed at him, their smiles.

He was going be sick.

'They know that you're nothing but a dirty, stinking, filthy whore. They can smell it on you, you know; they've known it all along. That's why they can't stand to be near you.'

Dash looked around again, feeling his body begin to shrink as the eyes stared at him, the smiles grew, their laughter loud, too...loud.

'But...but I-' Again, they cut him off.

'You didn't know? They've always known. They know that you take it up the ass pretty much every day, that you fuck older women, that you get the shit beat out of you, and all because you're weak.'

'No, no that isn't true! It isn't,-' Dash could barely get a word in before it cut in again, its mocking louder, colder...crueler.

'But that's just it, isn't it? You like to feel them touching you, slut. You were practically begging Daddy to cum inside of you, weren't you? You'd jump at the opportunity for Mommy to suck your dick, wouldn't you, you sick fuck.'

"Please, stop. I don't...I don't know, but just...just...please...," The boy whispered, voice quiet and low with fear. At this point, others began to look at him, take notice of him, but to him?

They were laughing, practically screaming at him.

So much noise, too much noise, it made him want to scream.

So scream he did.

A deep, guttural sound tore itself free of his throat, ringing out as he curled in on himself, but they didn't stop.

They didn't stop.

They just...wouldn't stop.

The class had gone eerily still as they watched him rock and forth, but Dash couldn't see them, couldn't hear them anymore. Even as the teacher went on their school-issued phone to call for a faculty member to come to the classroom to get him, did it make sense to him. He could hear their whispers over the noise, he could hear them.

He was freak.

A whore.

An idiot.

Of course they knew, they had to know, right?

He must have given something away, they must have found out somehow.

Ms. Tetslaff appeared at the door some time later, and Mr. Emery pulled her to the side, speaking in hushed tones as the boy rocked, holding himself as he did so.

He didn't resist the hands that pulled him from his seat, or the way that they walked behind him as he limped out of sight of his classmates, only flinching slightly as his mind gave to the exhaustion.

Normally, he would have had half a mind to look back at his chair, and notice the small, red stain that was left behind.