Slash's Snakepit

Slash's pov~

I don't know what the fuck I expected when I showed up here.

Maybe for her to slam the door in my face again. Maybe for her to actually listen to me this time.

What I didn't expect?

Some half-naked, pretty-boy motherfucker strolling out of her bathroom like he fucking lives here.

A towel hanging low on his hips, another draped over his shoulder, like he just casually fucked the love of my goddamn life and is now about to condition his fucking hair.

My brain short-circuits.

And then, as if the whole scene isn't already burning itself into my skull, the asshole actually smiles.

"Hey, Slash!"

"The fuck is this?" My voice comes out sharp, venomous, practically shaking with rage. I look at Grace, then back at him, then at Grace again, my head spinning. "Are you serious right now?"

Grace just stares at me, arms crossed, her expression unreadable.

And that just pisses me off more.

"You're a fucking hypocrite," I snap, pointing at her. "Acting like you're some saint and I'm the lewd one, like I'm some dirty rockstar who can't keep it in his pants. But you?" I laugh bitterly. "You pull this shit? You really got all high and mighty about me kissing someone else when you're over here playing house with-" I wave a hand at the guy, barely able to look at him. "-this random fucking dude?"

Grace clenches her jaw. "Slash-"

"Nah, fuck that. At least I never pretended to be something I'm not. I never played games. I've always been me. You knew exactly who I was from the start."

I step closer, heat rushing to my face. "But you? You sat on your goddamn high horse, acting like some fucking puritan while judging me for the same shit you're pulling right now?" I laugh, but it's bitter, sharp. "Real fucking rich, Grace. Real rich coming from the same girl who was a goddamn virgin before me."

The guy beside her blinks, looking between us like he's watching a fucking tennis match. "Wait, wait, wait," he cuts in, looking at Grace. "Were you seriously a virgin?"

I turn to him, still fuming. "What, you didn't know?"

And then it clicks.

I smirk, leaning back slightly, crossing my arms. "Ohhh," I drawl. "I get it now. That good, huh?" I flash him a knowing grin. "Yeah, well, I'm a damn good teacher."

Grace lets out a strangled noise, rubbing her temples like she's seconds away from murdering both of us. "Oh my God, shut the fuck up! Both of you!"

Her voice slices through the tension like a whip.

I freeze.

The dude freezes.

She glares at me first, her whole body vibrating with rage. Then she turns to towel-boy. "And you. Stop looking at me like that."

He holds up his hands. "I'm just saying, that's a plot twist."

"Jesus Christ," she mutters, rubbing her temples. Then she exhales, levels me with a hard stare, and says, "He's gay, Slash."

...What?

I blink. Look at her. Then look at him.

He grins at me. Winks.

Oh.

...Oh, fuck.

Grace crosses her arms, staring at me like I'm the biggest fucking idiot on the planet. "You had no reason to start yelling like that."