“But it’s okay if you’re not feeling great. You don’t have to be happy all the time, or put on a brave face. It’s okay to not be okay, and to feel how you feel. I dealt with depression some after my mom died, and again when Gram died, so I know a little bit about how hard it can be. And if you deal with chronic depression or anxiety, I think that takes a tremendous amount of courage and strength, battling those negative messages all the time. But you’re so much more than your struggles, small fry, and I have really been enjoying getting to know you.”
He has tears filling his eyes and sliding down his cheeks now.
“Shit, I didn’t mean to make you cry,” I tell him.
He shakes his head and wipes at his eyes. “No, it’s okay, they’re good tears.” He sniffles. “I’ve been enjoying gettingto know you, too. My brain is just being nasty lately. I know better than to listen, but it’s still really hard sometimes. I never did understand why my brain would want to lie to me, you know? Like shouldn’t it be on my side?”
I chuckle a little. “I hear you.” More tears spill down his cheeks and I can’t just stand here while he cries, so I say, “Is it okay if I give you a hug?”
He nods, and then I’m setting my glass down and doing the same with his, before I wrap my arms around him and he rests his cheek against my chest, sobbing quietly.
“I’m here if you want to talk,” I say. “But no pressure.”
It takes a few moments, but eventually he says, “There’s a guy that Tommy and I were seeing, and after two months he told us he needs space, and I’m having a really hard time with him being gone all of a sudden. And even though Tommy is telling me it’s not because of me, I can’t stop thinking that it is. That if I didn’t have so many issues he would have stayed, he would be making Tommy happy, that I’m ruining everything.” He cries harder now and I hold him tighter.
“Oh, small fry,” I coo. “Shh. It’s okay. You’re okay.” I rub my hand up and down his back, trying to soothe him. “I know it’s hard to remember that your brain is lying to you when you feel that way, but trust me, it is. It doesn’t take more than a second of seeing Tommy with you, or hearing him talk about you, to know how crazy he is about you.”
Pierre sniffles again.
“I don’t know what is happening with this guy, but I do know Tommy would be miserable if you weren’t his. And if this guy really did end things with you because he thought you were too much to handle, then I already know Tommy wouldn’t want anything to do with him.”
He chuckles softly and wipes at his tears. “That’s what Tommy said.”
“You talking to anyone?” I ask, and he nods.
“I have a therapist, and I’m on meds. They help, but they’re not a cure all. I have days where I do pretty well, you know, and then days or weeks where I’m really struggling. Sometimes it’s for a reason, at least one I can pinpoint. Sometimes it’s for no reason at all.”
“Did your guy say why he needed space?”
He shakes his head. “No. And he didn’t say how long either. I think that’s part of what’s stressing me out so much and making my brain assume the worst possible things. He’s not communicating with us at all, and we…” he chokes on a sob. “We were…”
It dawns on me why this is hurting Pierre so much. This guy wasn’t just a casual fling. “You loved him.”
He nods and sobs again, holding me tighter. “We both did, or do. I don’t know. We wanted to tell him and then he said he couldn’t see us for a while, and, I don’t know, everything is just wrong now.”
I sigh. “I’m sorry, small fry. I really hope things get better for you all soon. That sounds really hard. Please know I am here for you if you need anything.”
He steps back and wipes his tears away again. “Thank you.”
“You’re always welcome here if you need company. I mean that.”
He nods again. “I’m really glad you moved in here, Bentley.”
I grin and ruffle his hair. “Me, too.”
Alex
The night of Peyton’s birthday party arrives, and I stand in front of my full length mirror, admiring my outfit. Dark wash snug fitting jeans, a white T-shirt and a black leather jacket.Perfect. I’m actually really looking forward to having a night out. I haven’t gone to a birthday party in a long time and Peyton inviting me was really sweet.
I’ve been mulling over the conversation with Tommy all week long. I still don’t believe him when he says Bentley has feelings for me, too. Having to jerk off before I hang out with Bentley is getting increasingly annoying though. I’ve certainly put my new toys to good use since I got them, and there hasn’t been a single thing I didn’t enjoy. I’m not sure if that’s because the toys were just so amazing, or if it was who I was fantasizing about while I was getting off that really made it incredible. I just know that I love having things up my ass now. I have even been practicing blow jobs more with bananas and cucumbers, though I fucking lock the door now when I do. I’m getting better, I think, though it’s hard to know for sure when I don’t have a real person telling me how it feels.
I sigh. I’d really love to have one person in particular telling me how it feels to have me suck his brains out through his dick. Fuck, just picturing Bentley staring down at me with his hand in my hair as he fucks my face, his skin flushed and sweat slick, that gorgeous hair loose and pooling around his shoulders, is making my dick perk up again, even though I just came twenty minutes ago.
Goddamn it. I really have to stop doing this to myself, because despite what my brother says, I know better than to think Bentley could ever want with me what I want with him. I mean what are the odds that he all of the sudden started liking guys too? And not just guys, but me? Yeah, right. And if I’m not careful, I’m going to slip up and he’ll find out, and I will be mortified.
My phone dinging brings me back to the present and I pull it out of my pocket.
Cowboy: Just getting out of the shower now, be ready infifteen. If you’re ready first just head on over and let yourself in
