Christian (bxb)

Caught in the fire

(Christian)

I froze when Greyson's lips pressed against mine. The shock held me in a place like my brain couldn't process what was happening.

His grip on me was firm as if he was scared I'd slip away if he let go. And maybe he was right because I didn't know what to think.

I hadn't signed up for this. This whole bond thing wasn’t what I wanted. It wasn’t what I chose.

And yet, here I was, lips locked with Greyson, my mind filled with anger and confusion.

But as his mouth moved against mine, something inside me softened.

I hated to admit it, but the spark I felt wasn’t just a physical thing—it was deeper, almost magnetic.

It was like our bond pulling us together, no matter how much I tried to resist. I could feel Greyson's frustration, his hurt.

It was pouring out of him, and somehow, that made it harder to push him away.

I found myself kissing him back, just for a second before my brain snapped back to reality.

I pulled away, breathing hard, glaring at him as I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.

“What the hell, Greyson?” He didn’t flinch; he just stared back at me, his eyes dark and unreadable.

“I needed you to see that this isn’t some joke to me. To any of us.” He replied.

“Well, congratulations,” I spat back.

“Message received.” I tried to shove him away, but he wouldn’t budge. He just kept looking at me, almost like he was daring me to say more.

“You think this is easy for me?” I continued, my voice rising.

“I didn’t ask for this bond. I didn’t want it. And now you, Jaxon, Mason, you’re all just expecting me to fall in line, like I don’t have a choice.” I was getting angrier now.

“It’s not about control, Christian, It’s about respect. About not throwing us aside like we’re nothing.” Greyson replied, his tone intense.

“That’s not what I’m doing.” I took a step back, feeling the heat of anger and frustration rise in my chest.

“I’m just trying to figure out what I want, who I am, without this bond dictating my life. I didn’t sign up to have my whole future planned out for me.” Greyson sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.

“You think we chose this either? Do you think Jaxon and I woke up one day, hoping to get tangled up in some forced bond? We didn’t, Christian. But we’re trying to make it work, while you’re out here acting like it’s a curse.” He said.

“It is a curse,” I shot back, and I saw something in his eyes as I slapped him.

“I’m not saying I hate you guys. But I barely even know myself. How can I commit to something this big, when I don’t even know if it’s what I want?” For a second, Greyson’s face softened, and I thought maybe he understood. But then he straightened up, crossing his arms over his chest.

“So, what—you’re just going to date around? Pretend like this bond isn’t real?” I shook my head.

“It’s not pretending. It’s figuring things out. And maybe I need to know what else is out there before I can accept this bond.” He looked at me like I’d just insulted him.

“You don’t get it, do you? This isn’t something you can ignore or delay, Christian. Our bond isn’t going to wait around for you to decide if we’re worth it.” I felt my fists clench.

“Well, maybe I’m tired of everyone else deciding what I’m supposed to feel. Maybe I need space to think.” I snapped.

“Space?” Greyson’s voice was low, dangerous.

“Fine, take your space. But don’t come crying to us when you realize what you’ve thrown away.” Those words hit me hard, and for a second, I wanted to yell back, to fight him, to make him understand.

But then I just felt…empty. Like this whole argument had drained every bit of fight I had left.

“Maybe that’s what needs to happen,” I said quietly, turning away from him.

“Maybe you guys will be better off without someone who’s not sure.” I heard him let out a frustrated sigh.

“Christian, stop acting like this is just about you. This bond is bigger than us. It’s not something you can just walk away from.” As if I didn't know.

“Maybe you’re wrong about that,” I replied, trying to ignore the pang in my chest.

“Maybe I need to find out for myself.” Greyson grabbed my arm, pulling me back to face him.

“You think you can just walk away and ignore this? Go date, other people, pretend like we don’t exist?” I tried to shake him off, but his grip was tight.

“Yeah, maybe I do. Maybe I need to see what’s out there. And if that makes me selfish, then fine. I’m selfish.” Greyson’s eyes narrowed, his frustration boiling over.

“Selfish doesn’t even begin to cover it. You’re throwing away something real for a bunch of ‘what ifs’ that won’t mean anything compared to this bond.” He shook me when he said that.

“You don’t know that!” I shot back.

“Maybe this isn’t what I want. Maybe I’m allowed to want something different.” He finally let go, taking a step back, his face unreadable.

“Then go, Christian. To find your ‘something different.’ Just don’t expect us to be here waiting when you realize it wasn’t worth it.” Those words stung, deeper than I wanted to admit.

I’d been so wrapped up in my feelings, in trying to figure out who I was, that I hadn’t thought about what it might mean for them.

But now, seeing the pain in Greyson’s eyes, the frustration—it made something in me twist painfully.

I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of everything crashing down on me.

“Maybe that’s what needs to happen,” I whispered, barely able to meet his gaze.

Greyson shook his head, letting out a bitter laugh.

“You know, for someone so desperate to find himself, you sure seem hell-bent on tearing down the people who care about you.” Those words cut deep, but I forced myself not to react. I couldn’t.

If I let him see how much it hurt, he’d only push harder. So I just nodded, keeping my face as blank as I could manage.

“Goodbye, Greyson,” I said quietly, stepping back, out of his reach.

He watched me for a moment, his expression a mix of hurt and anger before he finally turned and walked away.

The second he was gone, my knees felt weak, like all the fight had been drained out of me.

I leaned back against the wall, closing my eyes and taking a shaky breath. I’d thought standing my ground would feel like a victory, but all I felt was hollow.