MAIN CHARACTER 👆🏾
KHALIL💕
His eyes followed mine down. When he saw what I saw a look of horror covered his face, he brought his fist up turning off the shower
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" I cried. I looked back up into his eyes as he looked back into mine. He wasn't entirely comprehending yet. "I can't help it! I'm so sorry!" I jerked sobbing uncontrollably, bracing myself for any violent reaction from him, my wails echoing around the room.
"I DIDN'T ASK TO BE LIKE THIS!" I yelled as I twisted away from him. "I can't help it. I'm sorry! I know I'm fucked up!" I cried, my body spasming as I covered my face with my hands and leaned into the wall, trying to be smaller.
"Oh, Khalil," He sounded like he was about to cry too. "Oh, man." He put his hand on my shoulder. He was clearly at a loss, not knowing what to say. He definitely understood what was going on now. I was crying and slobbering into my hands.
"Oh, man." He moved in close beside me. He kept his left hand on my shoulder, and brought his right hand up to mine, gently prying it away from my face. "It's ok, Khalil. It's ok..." He choked up.
He kept his hand over my right hand and moved his left hand from my shoulder to my chin. He gently grasped my jaw, turning my face to his. He had tears in his eyes.
"Hey, it's alright." He tried to soothe me.
I couldn't stop crying. All the tension of hiding my true nature for years, the fear of what would happen if I were found out; poured out like a river now that the worst possible thing had happened: I was exposed.
He stood there, not knowing what to do or say. I'd been so certain that he would be disgusted, that my brain just wouldn't accept that he was being kind; I processed it as pity for the poor little fag boy. I squirmed out of his hold and started to walk away.
"I know you hate me now, 'cause I'm just a faggot. I'll get out of your house. I'll stay away from you. I'll go away... for good." My voice wavering, "I'm tired of living like this, I can't do this anymore." I said resolutely.
I stopped crying as I walked toward the doorway. I couldn't handle this intense pain. It just wasn't worth it, being so alone and scared. Scared of people, scared of the world, scared of myself. Scared of my father. Scared of what he would do to me if he finds out It just wasn't worth it. Maybe I should just get it over with.
I can only assume now, that he somehow realized what I was thinking; because he lunged and more or less tackled me from behind.
"HEY! NO!" He yelled as we both bounced off the wall, sliding with our wet feet on the tiles through the doorway, into the lavatory, barely staying upright, as he clutched at my shoulders.
"No Khalil!" He demanded, as he enveloped me in his arms, steadying us, turning me to face him and pulling me into a tight embrace as I struggled. "No, Khalil! No... I don't hate you." He tried to convince me, in a thick voice that was trying to hold back a sob.
"No one hates you. You're a good person." He whispered in my ear. I started crying again, laying my head on his chest. I collapsed in his arms. It was slowly starting to sink in that he was being kind and compassionate, not showing his repulsion at my condition.
He held me tight, his arms around my back, stroking my wet hair with his right hand. My arms were wrapped around his lower back. My member had gone down when I started thinking of ending it all; and, even though I could feel something warm and thick pressing against me, it stayed soft, though full.
"I'm sorry. I'm so scared, Cole... I'm just so scared of how I feel about everything... about you..." I mumbled in a small, trembling voice, through my sobs into his chest. I could feel his heart pounding rapidly in his chest, the sound reverberating through my head and body.
"It's gonna be ok, Khalil, it's gonna be ok." He soothed, squeezing me tighter. "Don't be scared, Khalil... it's gonna be ok."
He just held me tightly where we stood. Neither of us spoke. The only sounds were the shower still running, and his heart beating. His heart rate gradually slowed to almost normal. I don't know how long he held me; but it was so comforting, I could have stayed like that forever.
At some point, I was vaguely aware that his cock was filling out. It didn't get hard, but it thickened and stretched down, touching the inside of my thigh. His heartbeat sped back up a little, and his breathing grew a little shallower.
Even though I could feel his arousal, it didn't set me off on sex or anything else at that moment. My cock did fill out some more, but I guess I couldn't read this as a sexual moment. I had way too much going on in my head to think of sex. I had just realized that suicide wasn't an option.
Even though Cole was letting me know that he wasn't disgusted with me, I was still paranoid that as soon as I left his house, he was going to tell others, like my dad. exploiting any 'weakness' for all it's worth. My life would be over then anyway.
Just like back in Huntsville, in sixth grade. This big guy had called me a faggot in front of a whole group of people, 'cause I'd been deep in thought about something and was staring at his crotch, without realizing it. From that day on, I was teased unmercifully for being a faggot, and beaten up three times. And the worst thing about it was that I didn't even know if I was one then. That was probably when I became so painfully shy.
Fortunately, we moved away three or four months after that incident. It taught me to keep everything to myself and build a wall around me. But it had been getting harder to live with me for awhile. Now that my darkest secret was out, it was going to be too hard. I just didn't think I could face my isolation anymore, let alone the world.