After the win, Parker rushes straight home to hole up in his room. He knows a celebration is in order, so he isn't likely to hear from Brett until tomorrow, if at all.

Jackson High won the game, in spite of Brett, which is worrying. He threw a bullet pass that was tipped when a lob would've been the much safer bet. Parker believes he threw the game and with him that desperate to end their contract, he doubts a future for them beyond the finals in two weeks.

With that in mind, continuing to meet seems pointless and Parker blames himself. He took a leap of faith when he agreed on an end date, thinking Brett would come around, that his gesture would have meaning, but clearly, it meant nothing. Brett is straight, like he always has been and nothing Parker does will change that, least of all blackmailing him.

The allure of controlling Brett as revenge lost its luster the moment he admitted to liking a part of it, in a roundabout way. After that, Parker let his mind rationalize his past actions as repressed homosexuality which apparently, was wishful thinking. Now, all he's left with is shame from forcing Brett to be gay and he can't bring himself to do it anymore.

Parker falls asleep feeling hopeless for the first time since he met with Brett in the alley and he regrets buying that dumb chastity belt. He's tempted to destroy it. It was an epic waste of $300, money better spent being bullied out of by Brett.

———

Parker stirs to the boom of trap music. No doubt, Brett's party is raging next door. He rolls out of bed and looks out of his window to confirm. It, rather conveniently, has perfect view of Brett's bedroom, though, it has been heartbreaking to look out of as of late.

The lights are out, which is expected, at least until much later since he's entertaining guests. The first level window shows the living room. It's packed with an even mix of football players and cheerleaders. There's a sprinkling of the popular crowd in there as well.

In the past, being forced to live vicariously through them overwhelmed Parker with jealousy. He'd never been invited to a party. Even if he had been, he wouldn't have had the guts to show up. It wasn't worth the risk of upsetting Brett, it still isn't.

Parker watches through the window for several times longer than would qualify as stalker-level, patiently waiting to see Brett, to read what's on his mind somehow, simply by sight. He's not sure what that would even look like, what expression meant "I miss you", but he can't stop looking.

The party winds down and light floods Brett's bedroom, seeping out into the night around it. When Parker sets eyes on him, his heart does a barrel roll, then nosedives to the goddamn floor.

Brett isn't alone. He brought Tracy with him, the head cheerleader he's hooked up with a few times. And they're all over each other. Parker is fuming with anger. He was a fool to trust him, to have mercy on him, to think their contract meant anything.

As he watches them kiss and feel each other, his mind goes back to fantasies of visiting Brett in jail, of taunting him. Tracy pushes him down on the bed and does a strip tease as she gets undressed. Even though she's not to blame, Parker finds a way to hate her more than Brett.

It comes easy, Brett is his even if he's not smart enough to realize it. Parker has half a mind to go over there. If Brett kills him, it'd still be worth blabbing everything to Tracy and stopping them. He doesn't. Wanting to do something has never made him less of a coward. Parker watches their naked bodies rub and caress one another, angrily waiting for Brett to fuck her. He doesn't.

No, more accurately, he can't.

He can't get hard to fuck her. She goes down on him, still nothing. They talk. Parker can't hear the words, of course, but he can surmise. She gets dressed and goes downstairs. Parker goes downstairs as well to keep eyes on her from different windows.

Parker's phone buzzes on the coffee table in his living room, minutes after Tracy has been picked up by an Uber. There are a dozen missed messages from Brett, but most recently:

None of the other ones matter. He can't even remember being upset. It never happened, but he can pretend. He writes, Five unanswered texts later, he leaves his phone downstairs and goes back to bed.

*****

Parker opens his eyes to Brett straddling him, shaking him awake. Still groggy from sleep, his mind skips wondering how he got in or why he's on top of him and goes straight to being happy to see him.

Brett mistakes his tired grin for smugness, pinning his neck with a forearm. "Tell me you didn't."

"Didn't what?"

"How you ran off, said no, my unanswered texts, your stupid fucking face right now," Brett says, "Tell me you didn't set something up with that detective."

"I didn't."

Brett exhales, coursing his fingers through his hair. "Then why won't you punish me to get even?"

"I don't want to do this anymore," Parker says, sorrow in his voice.

"You have to. We have a contract, so fucking punish me, Master," Brett says. His voice, strained with a splash of desperation.

As much as Parker thought he was settled on his path, he can't ignore the tingling down below. "You're only saying that so I won't go to the police."

"Well, no fucking shit. I don't want you to go to the police, but also," Brett says, "I agreed to it, hoping we'd be square after, after everything I've done over the years."

"Then, kiss me," Parker says, lips quavering.

Brett looks around the dark room, as if some shadow-paparazzi is going to appear holding cameras, then he lowers his lips to Parker's for less than a second. "Anything else?"

The kiss was hardly anything, but it surprises Parker nonetheless. It's forbidden in their contract, but he did it, no questions. Then, it hits him. Brett's riding a high he can't even imagine coming down from. Now is the time, if ever there was one.

"I have something for you" —Parker starts to get up— "you'll wear it when I tell you to."

"You don't want me to" —Brett grabs Parker's cock like it's his own— "before anything else?"

"Well, you're already here." Parker's lips form a subtle grin. He's certain this is all an act, but it's so easy to pretend. He nods. "You don't have to swallow, if you don't want to."

"Full blowjobs are part of the contract." Brett lowers Parker's shorts. "You look like Master, but you don't sound like Master."

"Let me fuck you." Parker, pressing his luck.

"I'm not begging for it."

"Then stop talking." Parker grabs fistfuls of his hair, lowering Brett's mouth onto his cock.

Brett makes it last, edging him, putting on the performance of a lifetime. Parker hates how much he wants this to mean something. Brett swallows everything and licks his smooth stomach clean, even what pooled in his navel.

Parker says, "We're good, you don't have to do all this." Brett keeps circling his tongue under the rim of Parker's foreskin, trying to get him up again now that he's soft. "What is it? You want something. Tell me."

Brett lifts his head, leaning in until they're face to face. He says, "I want permission to cum." Parker blushes hard. He never expected Brett hadn't, based on seeing him and Tracy. "We did win, extending our contract, shouldn't I be rewarded for the outcome?"

Parker smiles. "Strip, then hit the lights. You'll need to be punished first." As he turns on the light in the bedroom, Parker retrieves the belt from under the bed and hides it in the blankets. "Come here."

Brett returns with his hands very poorly hiding his erection until he gives up. "This isn't because of you, not how you're hoping," he says, "I haven't came for days, before the contract even. I can't get rid of this thing."

Parker decides not to mention his limp dick adventure with Tracy. He can enjoy Brett's hard-on out of context, no good could come from calling him out. He'd only risk losing the wonderful window view he's had for over half a decade.

Parker grabs Brett's bare cock for the first time ever, making him squirm and gasp as his fingers squeeze and adjust grip around it. "Do you actually expect me to let you come?"

"Master. Please."

"That's enough jokes," Parker says, "Close your eyes and accept your punishment. Let me know when you're ready."

"I'm r—." Brett howls in pain as Parker flicks his balls, hard, instantly softening him.

Parker grips his cock threateningly and Brett cowers at his mercy. Parker fits him in the belt, padlocking it once he's in it. "Arch your back, do not open your eyes."

Brett obeys and Parker proceeds to punish him with spanking, rewarding him intermittently with kissing and rimming. He massages a finger inside of him without complaint.

Parker stares in awe at Brett's incarcerated cock. It's soft, but precum is steadily leaking from it like drool from the jaws of a St. Bernard. Parker swipes at the leaking trail with two fingers and puts them in Brett's mouth.

Brett moans his approval as he slips them inside his hole next. His hands grip his caged cock in frustration.

"Head to the bed," Parker says, stuffing his head down, so he's ass-up.

Parker takes his time tonguing and fingering Brett until he's ready to add the vibrating probe. It's actually more like a set of linked beads that can be added to crowd the prostate, then made taut, so they stay put.

Brett takes it all in without complaint. His moans convey the opposite, even. Parker flicks on the remote and Brett moans in a rumble that grows higher in pitch, higher than either of them thought capable.

All Parker can think, holy fuck, I'm going to have so much fun at school.