Page 58 of Wrath

My head spins as my wrist throbs.

"I'm not gay, Miller."

He says that with his boner pushing at the denim of those beat-up jeans. His cheeks are flushed in the light of the bedside lamp, his eyes aglow with what I know is lust.

"Right." I sit up, messy from where he smeared cum all over me. My heart pounds so hard that I can feel it in my temples. "You're not gay," I tell him, getting off the bed. "Not bi either, are you? Just an ordinary liar."

"I like to fuck with you.” He gives me a pretty sneer—the Ezra sneer I’ve come to know so well. “You’re just a toy."

"So you're...gay for me?"

His face hardens into fury. "I'm nothing for you. No…that's not true." He looks more confident. "I'm…amusedby you. It’s entertainment."

Hurt—first. His words hit like a slap. But he's a liar. That big boner proves it.

"Don't be a coward, angel face. If you're not gay you're bi, and if you're not bi then you're a coward and a bigot. Because you’re a liar."

He smirks the way he used to at me—hard, as if hehatesme. He waves at the bathroom door. "You got what you came for. No one said I wanted you to stick around."

The fucking prick. "I come to your room to wake you up from nightmares, dickface."

He arches a brow. "Why not let your mom or my dad do it?"

"Because they'redownstairs." This is unbelievable. When I get to him, he’s usually crying or screaming. I would be a monster if I left him there a second longer than I had to. Even if he wasn’t playing my dick like a damn harmonica, I’d still rush into his room to help him. "Tonight, they're not even here." They're traveling for a few nights due to Carl's work.

He shrugs. "You know what will happen once you come in here. Don't pretend you don't want it."

I want to tell him he's fucked up. That he's trying to wall me in. Gaslighting, even. In fact, I'm about to when I notice that his eyes are welling with tears.

I step closer to him. "Ezra—"

"Fucking go already. I don't want you in here, faggot."

I step into the shower with a tight chest and a racing mind. He's so confusing. Also, such a fucking bluffer. Full of nothing but shit. Why can't he be honest?

I think about his nightmares as I soap myself up. I’ve had bad dreams before, but what happens with him—it’s seriously next level. I'm not going to take this dumb shit personally. I’d put money on it being a defense mechanism. It still hurts, though. If I'm being honest. Being treated like a fuckboy bothers me. So I should stop this with him.I soap my dick, which twitches at the memory of what he did to it. I don't know if I can.

I'm getting addicted to that moment right after he wakes up. I don't get it every night. But if he’s bad off enough, he’ll grab onto me. He's panting, his heart racing so fast I can feel it through my own chest, and I get to hold him. I try to hold him tight so he'll feel safe. I feel him breathe, and in those seconds, there's no space between us. Once or twice, he tucked my head to his chest as he was holding onto me. It felt so good.

I shut my eyes and try to feel that feeling right now. Something to ease the weight I still feel dragging at my chest. I should be able to—I summon that feeling of being held by him almost every night, when I’m drifting off to sleep—but for some reason,my mind is feeling fuzzy right now. I guess the lack of sleep is getting to me.

I wrap my hand around the base of my dick. Fuck, I came so hard just now. I’m dizzy.My hand starts to shake as blood rushes to my cheeks. There’s a feeling back behind my eyes somewhere—a sort of pressure.

Ezra, I think.

But I can’t say it.

I can’t do anything as my knees buckle.

Second Quarter

One

Ezra

As soon as I send him away, I sit on the edge of the bed and press my hand to my eyes. A tear spills out. I look down at myself, where I’m still hard, and that makes me feel so much worse. I try to get air into my lungs, but they’re locked.

Oh, fuck.

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