Work Text:
Till wondered how his life could be so shit.
He could go into his entire sob story, about how his loving mother died when he was a child leaving him with his bum of a step-father, or how being artistic and socially awkward and, even more, egregious— not ashamed to be who he was landed him as the primary target for cliche high school bullies.
But he had never liked being pitied, seen as something fragile, and he wasn’t about to start now.
His day had begun like this: Till dressed himself up, left without breakfast after a screaming match with Urak, spent 30 minutes in a crowded train being crushed by other passengers, arrived at school, and slaved through his classes while trying not to give teachers anymore reasons to pick on him. What a headache.
And unfortunately, it didn’t get better.
As he was exiting the main building, he was stopped by some no-name kids that hated him; why, he didn’t know. Till could only presume it was because he never laid his head low and let these rich kids order him around like they did with other outcasts. Needless to say, they got into an unfair altercation, with 5 kids twice Till’s malnourished build jumping him.
After beating Till to a pulp, instead of just laughing and leaving him to lick his wounds, the bullies must have decided they didn’t humiliate him enough. They dragged his aching body to the female changing rooms, let in by some of the cheerleaders that remained in the school grounds — because of course Till had trouble with the people highest in high school hierarchy, the jocks.
They forcibly took off his trousers while he couldn’t struggle, body aching far too much for Till to do anything; and laughed and jeered as they grabbed one of the spare skirts for the female uniform. The garment was a size too small, yet the waist band fit perfectly given Till didn’t have much to eat anyway, but it clearly wasn’t made to accommodate his legs, only reaching about mid-thigh. Any type of movement would have him exposing his underwear.
Or so would have been the case, had his underwear not also been stolen by them. All of Till’s dignity sunk below floor level as he was forced to plead for them to have mercy and at least grant him the protection of undergarments.
To no one’s surprise, they just mocked him even further: taking videos of his desperate expression while dangling his boyshorts far beyond his reach, arms too hurt to even try to swipe the pair. Till didn’t even want to come to school tomorrow, knowing what would be waiting for him: all of his classmates laughing and commenting on the video of Till in a short skirt, his face swollen and red from crying while begging.
After who knows how many minutes of this mental torture, he was left alone to lament his entire existence. It took an additional amount of time for his limbs to feel okay enough for him to walk up and leave, but by this point, he just wanted to go back home and lay on his head and cry. He could only pray Urak would arrive after him so his plans wouldn’t be ruined.
Till really didn’t want to walk around looking like this, but he had no choice. He limped out of the campus while one hand held his school bag in front of his crotch, the other pulling the hem of his skirt as low as he could. He could feel the chilly autumn wind blowing through the streets, the cold air against his exposed cunt making him jump every now and then, and he hoped he wasn’t flashing anyone.
He breathed a sigh of relief as he arrived at the train station. Till was not looking forward to taking the train, knowing that this was the rush hour, but he comforted himself by saying that this was the last step before he would be in the comfort of his own room soon enough. If he excluded all outside disturbances, that is.
Till shuffled onto the wagon awkwardly, moving in such a stiff way any person paying half enough attention would notice something was wrong with him. Fortunately, the tired underpaid workers couldn’t care less what a teenager did.
To his dismay, all seats were taken, so he was forced to stumble all the way nearest one of the walls. A crowd of people immediately got on soon after, shoving him around a little as all other passengers settled in place.
Till’s thighs squeezed together, fingers clenching the handle of his bag tighter. His heart was pounding erratically — knowing that any wrong movement, and he would cause such a big scandal Till wouldn’t be able to show his face around public ever again. The pressure between his legs grew and grew, his pussy fluttering each time a stranger’s body accidentally brushed close to him.
Till suddenly became aware of something touching him; at first, he just dismissed it as one of the passengers being jerked around by the train’s rapid movement, and he merely stood in place, rolling his eyes.
Yet soon enough, the contact became more and more insistent. What felt like someone’s hand rested against his sides for a few moments before pulling away, only to come back second later, lasting longer each time.
Till froze. There was no way this was happening, not today.
The stranger’s palm slowly slid down Till’s back, growing bolder and bolder. Long fingers ghosted over the short length of his skirt, and that was enough for Till’s body to stiffen, wide eyes darting back and forth as he tried to get a glimpse at the person behind him.
Till was no stranger to perverts on the train — and most of the time, he was not afraid to give them a piece of his mind. However, he wasn’t normally wearing a mini skirt while having nothing on beneath, still with aching bruises all over his body.
He couldn’t possibly do anything, not without attracting attention to himself and that was the one thing he dreaded most.
Till tried to side step a little, get as much distance as he could while being crushed by the others on the train, but as soon as he attempted to do so, big hands wrapped around his waist and pulled him back. He bit back a noise of discomfort before he felt himself being pressed right against a large frame, strong and unyielding. Till wasn’t small, only lithe, yet the man managed to completely envelop him. Looking down he could see the strong arms pressed around a midsection, long sleeves of a neat suit hiding what he could feel were very defined muscles. He shivered in disgust. A seemingly well-put together member of society taken advantage of an underage boy like this.
The man behind him took a whiff of Till’s hair, and the vibrations of his pleased hum ran through Till’s body. In no time, a large bulge made itself felt, humping the crack of Till’s ass slowly and carefully. Till tried to remove the man’s arms off him, but that only earned him a squeeze on his waist, a signal for him to keep still. Till resigned to the command, face soon flushing with shame as tears began to prick his eyes from the overwhelming embarrassment, arms falling to his sides.
“Shh, good boy,” the man whispered right next to his ear, running his tongue over his lobe — his voice was deep and charming, oddly soothing, and his body reacted unwisely. A twisted heat of began churning in Till’s gut unwillingly, causing him to curl up on himself as if it could help him escape his own reactions. He hoped this was all the pervert was after, rubbing himself against a schoolboy and then leaving him alone.
Of course, things wouldn’t be as simple as that.
One of the man’s hand slowly left his waist, heading further and further down low. Till’s eyes widened, yet he hadn’t much time to react before the hand went inside the band of the skirt. He glided through Till’s pubes, covering Till’s cunt with the big palm.
The man chuckled, “No panties? How naughty of you,” proceeding to run his digits up and down over Till.
Till tried to defend himself, a small “N-No, it’s not—” leaving his lips, but he was interrupted by his own sounds.
He stifled a whimper — he could feel with unmistakable dread that he was beginning to get wet. His heart kept hammering against his chest, and soon slutty muffled noises were being punched out of Till’s throat.
He was stuck between a rock and a hard place, quite literally; if he moved away, he’d just grind against the hand on his pussy, and if he moved back, he’d rub against the erection instead.
His only choice was to take whatever the man had in store for him. Noticing Till had slowly but surely become soaked down there, the man pressed a faint kiss against the back of his neck before gathering the wetness in his finger, and then inching toward Till’s clit, which had become swollen by now.
His finger nudged against the bud patiently at first, testing the waters and delighting in the way Till jolted, before settling on a firm and unforgiving rhythm — Till’s body increasingly jolted and he hid head against his own shoulders while the pervert kept violating him, making him feel good when he didn’t want to. It was so dirty, letting this happen in a public space, and he didn’t know if he hated himself or the man more.
“It’s good, right?” He heard next to his ear. “Let me hear everything.”
Till shook his head in defiance, not wanting to give him whatever satisfaction he wanted, but the drenched fingers then went to his hole, pressing in without much resistance, and a loud moan flew from his lips.
It was as if time stopped; the man’s rubbing and his fingers stilled inside him, while Till looked around everywhere to see if anyone had noticed. Luckily, no one seemed to care about the debauchery he had been displaying.
“You’re so lewd,” Till felt the mouth against his neck once more, leaving a big bite mark where the collar of the school shirt exposed his neck. One side hurt more than the other, as if a slightly sharper tooth had sunk through the skin. “It’s so adorable, fuck…”
“L-Leave me— mgh, a-alone,” Till whimpered out. “P-Please— Ah—”
He couldn’t stop the bucking of his hips against the man’s fingers as he slid them so deep, exploring every inch of his pussy that he could. They were so big and thick, too — it made him dizzy to think of how they would size up against his own hands, how they reached deeper spots than he ever had by his lonesome.
“You say that, but you’re dripping…” the man teased. “You’re clenching around my fingers so tightly… Would you even be able to take a real cock inside you?”
Till’s breath hitched at the words. This man was insane, he couldn’t possibly be thinking of doing something like that in the middle of public transit— and yet. And yet more and more lewd whimpers came from Till, slowly increasing in volume.
“You liked that, hm?” He laughed, picking up the pace of his thrusts and the stimulation on Till’s clit. “You like the thought of getting fucked by a stranger in the train? Do you want me to bend you over the seats and let everyone watch?” His free hand, that had been previously holding Till still, went up his shirt and began groping Till’s chest, caressing the nipples that were painfully perked up. “Tell me.”
“N-No, I-I don’t— mghm, fuck, stop,” Till cried, shaking, the heat in his gut growing tighter and tighter. “I-I don’t w— want to.”
“If you don’t want it, why are you moaning like such a whore, hm?” The sultry voice was cruel. “I can barely pull my fingers out with how hard you’re clenching around me. Are you sure you don’t want this?"
Till’s breathing was heavy, and he almost felt like he was running out of air; his moans were unbearably loud in his own ears as he tried to refute what this lunatic was saying, but he couldn’t.
Not when he felt so close. Not when every single part of his body was being touched like that, making him forget all about the pain he had experienced earlier. He just wanted to find his release and let it all go.
The man’s thrusts against his ass grew faster, and his voice came out broken, “Cum for me, Till. While everyone is watching.”
Till made the mistake of looking forward.
His dazed eyes immediately made contact with an older man standing just a few inches away from him. His face was flushed, mouth agape, and Till knew that he had just seen everything that was being done to him— how Till had enjoyed it.
He opened his mouth, trying to let anything out, but the hand that had been teasing his nipples suddenly slide out of shirt and grabbed his chin, jerking his face to smash their lips together. Then, the fingers hit one spot that made him lose it all, and he was gone.
Till’s noises were muffled by the man’s lips as he squirted all over his hands, whimpering against his mouth while he cried and drooled, brain foggy and unthinking. A snaggletooth grazed his lower lip as the man’s tongue intertwined with Till’s, nearly eating him alive. While his thoughts were floating, he faintly heard tiny grunts of his name against his lips before the other man stilled, a small grunt of relief escaping him. The man’s fingers kept fucking him through his orgasm until Till’s body began to shake from overstimulation, and his weak arms pushed him away.
His gaze immediately went to the ground, and he had to hold back a shriek as he noticed the puddle spreading on the floor, glistening from all of Till’s liquids. At the same time, an announcement sounded through the wagon, warning that they had reached Till’s stop.
Even though his legs shook and he could barely stand, Till ran as fast as he could, roughly shoving others and receiving dirty looks in return, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to get out of this hell as soon as he could.
He stumbled to a lone bench after escaping from the dense crowd. His entire body trembled as his mind slowly processed everything that had just happened.
To sum it up: he had been bullied, harassed, blackmailed, gotten molested in the train, and a passenger saw him openly enjoying it. God, what if it wasn’t that one passenger? What if more people saw it?
He wanted to crawl into a hole and die. Till had never been so humiliated in his life — maybe Urak had been right when he called him a free for use slut. What moral high ground did he have now?
Against his will, tears began pouring out of his eyes, and then he was all but sobbing pathetically while sitting on a damn train station. He didn’t even want to go home now.
“Excuse me,” a voice approached him, yet it took Till a moment to understand it was talking to him. “Are you alright?”
He lifted his head, coming face to face with a man. He had short, neat black hair and piercing black eyes with a hint of red in them, wearing a tidy business suit, and if Till hadn’t been so wrecked, maybe he would have become flustered at such a handsome older man coming up to him.
He couldn’t even care, letting out a sniffle that probably sounded disgusting. “Y-Yeah,” he lied, “I— I-I’m fine.”
The man clearly didn’t believe, sitting down beside him. They remained in silence, broken up by Till’s cries, until he was handed a neat handkerchief. He looked questioningly, but the man smiled warmly, a sharp tooth glinting.
“Take it, you look like you need it,” he spoke. “I’m Ivan. Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”
“I-It’s none of your business,” Till replied with a stuffy voice, but he took the handkerchief all the same, wiping his tears with it. “A— Are you that bored to be bothering a random kid?”
“Well, no,” Ivan chuckled. “But how would anyone not get worried seeing a boy your age crying like that?”
His ears flushed. At least the man’s chatter had helped him occupy his mind a little and help him forget about the awful day he had. He mindlessly snorted, which made Ivan’s smile get even brighter.
Till sighed, knowing he had to get home now or else he really would be in trouble with Urak.
“…I should go,” he muttered awkwardly, unsure if he should even be telling this strange man that. Though, after everything that happened, did he even care anymore?
“Are you sure you’ll be fine by yourself?” Ivan asked, standing up alongside him. For some strange reason, his work bag was placed over his crotch, in a way that almost seemed planned, but Till didn’t have the mind to care about that right now. With them both standing at full height, Till could notice how much larger Ivan was than him, and he felt even more embarrassed at being seen in such a pathetic way. “Don’t you need help?”
“I don’t even know you,” Till scoffed, though his lips pulled upwards. “What if you’re a child kidnapper?”
“I guess you could be right about that,” Ivan didn’t seem to take offense in Till’s jab, smirk unshaken from his lips.
“…Thank you, for the handkerchief,” Till spoke, returning the item. Ivan took it into his hands gracefully, shaking his head as if telling Till he didn’t need to thank him. “Goodbye, Ivan.”
“Goodbye, Till,” Ivan waved, and then Till began his painful walk toward his place, still limping and feeling his body shake all over.
It was only when he was already a few blocks away from the train station that he realized:
He had never told Ivan his name at all.