For The Beta I Fell For (bl)

Payback

"I wish you were an—"

Layle stopped mid-sentence, his voice cracking as if the weight of his own words was too much to bear. His unfocused eyes, clouded with exhaustion and something deeper, bore into Keith's face. His lips trembled as though they were forming words he couldn't bring himself to say. Every muscle in his body seemed strained, trembling as he fought to hold himself up, his weight teetering on the edge of collapse.

Keith's eyes moved restlessly, darting over Layle's features, unable to settle. The faint waves in Layle's hair fell across his forehead, damp with sweat, as he leaned closer. Keith's chest tightened. He wanted to block out what he'd just heard, to escape the suffocating words that still echoed in his mind. Instead, he focused on Layle's body—the curve of his jaw, the subtle rise and fall of his chest—as though memorizing him could drown out the ache inside.

Layle's body finally gave in, falling to the side with a muffled sigh. Keith froze, his muscles taut as he stared at the ceiling above. The emptiness that filled the space where Layle had been was almost unbearable, and yet he found himself grateful for it. It gave him something to focus on—a blank canvas, far removed from the mess of emotions weighing him down.

He didn't dare look at Layle, his mind circling the unspoken words that lingered in the air. His throat burned with the effort to hold back tears, but his gaze remained fixed on the cracks in the plaster, the flickering light from the street outside casting shadows that danced across the ceiling. The silence between them was deafening, each second stretching into an eternity.

Keith closed his eyes, willing himself to breathe evenly. But no matter how tightly he shut them, Layle's face—the tired eyes, the trembling lips, the unspoken ache—remained burned into his memory.

⸻

"We are so lucky if you think about it," Joey spoke, pulling Keith back to reality. That night at Layle's place had been all he could think about for the past few days.

"Alphas have ruts, omegas have heats, and girls get periods. But we, my friend, we are free. They're just jealous of us."

Joey's voice was calm and relaxed, but he couldn't hide the anxious feeling showing on his face. He shifted uncomfortably on the rusted hood of an abandoned Chevrolet in the middle of the night.

The junkyard stretched around them, dark and quiet, the air thick with the scent of rust and oil.

He and Keith had to stealth their way in. And even though his friend Keith was harmless, Joey couldn't shake the uneasy feeling—why had Keith brought him here? Keith had been dozing off most of the time lately, not really himself. Maybe he was thinking about something not so innocent. Maybe something sinister.

Keith cleared his throat, fixing a scarf—one he'd started wearing recently—around his neck, despite the weather getting warmer. The gesture only added to Joey's confusion.

Joey didn't know about the trouble he's in. He didn't know he was about to get jumped in just a few minutes.

But Keith did.

"That girl... Sarah, your girlfriend," Keith started, not really knowing what to say, just needing to buy time before his friends, who had orchestrated the whole thing, arrive.

"What about her?" Joey asked, swiping a cigarette from Keith's pack. He was starting to feel restless, a gut feeling telling him this conversation was heading somewhere he didn't like.

"Do you love her?"

"Love is a big word, but yes..?"

"Are you going to marry her?"