Teach Me To Be Gay (BoyxBoy)

Part Twenty-nine

"Who's this?" Kade's head snaps up as soon as he hears the echo of my footsteps on the hard, wooden floor, the question leaving his lips in an instant. I don't really know how to answer his question though, as I have no clue who the guy is myself.

Mind you, it was bloody stupid of me to even think of letting the bloke in. I almost smack myself on the forehead for how much of an imbecile that makes me. Almost.

Instead, I take a seat on the other end of the sofa from Kade, keeping my mouth shut as my eyes follow the guy across the room to where he sits on one of the bean bags. The way he sits down, his posture stiff as his eyes immediately avert to the floor, makes me think that he's guilty of something. But for fucks sake, I don't even know the guy! What business does he really have with us?

"I need-" He coughs. Spit it out. But I let him take his time. In reality, I'm torn between wanting to know what his deal is and not wanting to, my eyes scrutinizing his deep breaths and downcast pupils. Of course, I'm curious, but I have a feeling that this just isn't going to be good, and I don't want to hear any bad news right now.

At my own thoughts, I find myself wondering if he was sent by someone to give me news of my parents. Maybe something happened to one of them? As much as I hate the two of them, I wouldn't want anything to happen to them, because despite them being idiots to me for the majority of my life, I still kind of have to love them. Plus, you can see where they're coming from. I don't mean about me being gay - the way they reacted to that was out of order. I mean about the fact that they spoiled me rotten my whole life until realising I was old enough to fend for myself. They thought it best that I have everything. But I don't want everything, I guess that's where they went wrong.

So yes, in some ways, they have the best intent with their past actions, so I can't help but love them for trying, even though I hate the way they seem to have disowned me now. I guess I sort of disowned them, too, though.

“I have something to confess.” He lets the words spill from his mouth so quickly that it’s hard to decipher them, but I do, and so does Kade as I notice an eyebrow raising to show just how unimpressed he is. When the guy just stays silent, not uttering another word, I become a little restless waiting. My fingers drum soft tunes against the fabric of the sofa.

“Spill.” Kade’s voice is laced with impatience – in fact, it pretty much takes on the quality of impatience. Basically, he’s starting to get a little pissed off.

“I-“ Deep breath, buddy. I want him to hurry up, why can’t he just say it?

I guess the main reason I want – no, need – so badly to hear what he has to say is that I’m hoping once I know, the gnawing uneasiness in my chest will disappear. I can’t exactly describe the unease, but it isn’t pleasant. Imagine something very softly pushing on your heart, but constantly, and occasionally prodding it a little. It’s kind of like that, and it has me feeling so on-edge. So, as expected, I want to get rid of this unease, and then get rid of the guy, too.

“I just- I can’t explain why I did it. I was jealous. I am, I guess. That’s something I never thought I’d admit, but I am.” It takes me a moment to wrap my head around the idea that someone could be jealous of me, of us. What exactly is there to be jealous of? I mean, I’m not saying we have a bad relationship – in fact, it’s amazing – but this guy can’t exactly be jealous of it without knowing the full extent of it. He doesn’t know what goes on behind the scenes.

For fuck sake, for all he knows, we could be constantly fighting when we get back home. And to be honest, those blimmin’ text messages have caused a lot more fights than I’d like to admit to having. As soon as I remember the messages, a thought comes to mind, which I immediately attempt to push away, not wanting to judge without knowing the facts first, at least.