I'm Not Gay. You Are! (BoyxBoy)

12 | Personal Space

Hurt and disappointed, I cried.

How could he do this to me? 

Feeling a fresh burst of pain from my ass, I cried harder.

How could he hurt me like this?

I held back a sob as long as I could, but a whine escaped as I started wiping my tears. A harsh swipe of my palm on my tearful eyes reminded me to, Suck it up, Tris. You're a man. And just as my dad used to say, "Men don't cry."

My dad also warned me about Wilder when he first came out. "Them fags can't be trusted. You watch your back around him, son. Do you hear me?"

Back then, Dad ordered me to end my friendship with Wilder, but I stood up to him and told him, "I can be friends with whoever I want, Dad. I'm not a child anymore." I was nineteen then, a freshman in college.

Dad didn't get that Wilder was more than just my friend. We were like brothers, inseparable since we were seven years old. And that was when Dad settled to just warn me of him.

I never thought about Dad's homophobic warning, until now. I never thought Wilder was capable of doing such a horrid act, not to me. I hated to believe that my dad was right.

No. that's not right. I held my head high. Wilder only did it to help me. That juice almost killed me. I tried to convince myself, but that look in Wilder's eyes last night told another story. It was raw lust.

What if he planned for me to drink that juice?

All the feelings swirled around my mind like a tornado. I grabbed my head and tried to stop thinking too much. It hurt. Everything hurt. I was emotionally and physically exhausted.

"I'm gonna give you the best fucking night of your life."

No! I shook my head as flashbacks from last night started to resurface. I don't wanna remember.

But I did remember a few things.

What Wilder did to me was sick. Sicker than sick. So vile and nasty. I couldn't believe that Wilder, my favorite person in the world would do this to me! Fuck me mercilessly until I screamed like a woman in labor.

I covered my face when the humiliation flushed my entire body.

I was miserable. I was angry—No! I was goddamn furious!

And before I knew it, tears started flowing. I pursed my lips tight, forbidding myself from releasing all the heavy burden from my chest in a form of sobbing.

I'm not gonna cry. I'm gonna punch something—someone! I'm gonna punch him, rip him to pieces. I'm gonna... gonna...

I clenched my jaw. The scowl between my brows went deeper. My eyes darkened with anger, but the tears kept flowing. And the fire in my chest kept burning. The anger in me continued to feed on the air in my lungs, making it harder to breathe.

A giant shadow fell on me from the entrance of my room. I shuffled nervously in my spot. Wilder stood by the door. His presence both intimidated me and disgusted me.

I couldn't look at him anymore.

"Hey," he said in a timid voice as he slowly stepped inside. "I'm glad you're up."

The air in the room went thick.

"I brought you something to eat." He set the plate in front of me. "It's your favorite blueberry pancakes." He lowered himself until he was sitting on one knee. "And some aspirin 'cause your head must hurt like a motherfucker right now."