The Secret To New York (Boyxboy)

Chapter 13- This chapter doesn't have a title okay yeah (RATED R)

I suck at titling shit, so yeah. But hey, this chapter is really sad, or that's what i wanted, so pretend i'm an amazing writer and feel sad. Okay here it is. Oh and Wattpad gave me a warning on this story, it said it should be rated R, but idk man, there is no smut just a little bit of action and idk, so watch out if you care.

Chapter 13- This chapter doesn't have a title okay yeah

"How was Thanksgiving?" Shane asked on Monday. "Fine." I answered. He frowned at me, and I bit my lip. "What?" I asked. "I know your lying." I shrugged. "That's all you're getting." I told him. There was no sense in denying a lie with Shane. It was impossible to lie to him. I guess that's why I like him so much. "Well, I think my weekend was fun. The plane was boring, and besides missing you, it was amazing." I nodded. "Yeah." I muttered. I heard him sigh. "You're being boring and monotone." I shrugged. "Sorry." Shane leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. "Please tell me what's wrong?" He begged. I just shook my head. "I don't think I want to."

"At least scoot closer then." He said, holding out his arms. I moved and wrapped my arms around his waist. He was warm. I don't think I've really even felt so alone before. Even if I'm with him. I feel alone. "Shane?" I asked. "Hmm," his response made it seem he was distracted, so I waited a little while he pulled strands of my hair. "What?" He questioned. "Have you ever felt alone?" I asked. He laughed. "It's not funny, Shane. Just fucking answer me." He hugged me closer. "Yeah. Who hasn't?" I pulled away from him. "Fuck you." I mumbled. "Okay, okay. Yes. I have felt alone. When my dad died. I was sent to live with my aunt and uncle on my m-mom's side." I looked at him. "You stuttered." I told him. He shot me a glare. "Thank you captain obvious." He muttered. "Well...?" I said, pulling my knees under my chin. "They hated me and I got depressed. End of story." He finished. "No, bullshit. Tell me the whole story. Starting with "mom"."

He sighed. And I think maybe I pushed too far, but then he smiled at me. But, it wasn't exactly a smile. It was more of a grimace. "Alright. Fine. I used to have a mom and a dad. They were both living, unlike now. They had me at a young age, I think they were just out of high school, but they got married, and bought a house. The first few years of my life, I suspect were normal. I mean, I was a baby. My mom held me. Played with me, took me to the park, my dad worked 9 to 5. Dinner was on the table at 5:30. Then I remembered on my 6th birthday, my dad had to work overtime, so he wouldn't be home until 8 that night, and my mom threw a birthday party for me at a skating rink. I didn't know how to skate, by the way. Three kids showed, and I got five presents. All from my mom and dad. My cake was shit, I remember. My mom baked it, and she's not very good at anything, so go figure. Come to think of it, those kids were forced to be there by their whiny bitchy moms." He stopped.

"That night though, my mom came in to tuck me into bed. Which wasn't unusual. I mean, I was 6. But, she kissed me goodnight on the lips instead of the cheek. And I asked her why. You know what she said? "Because I love you, silly" Because she fucking loved me. By the time I was 8, I caught onto her shit. I wasn't aware it was wrong or anything, but I used to think "Mommy loves me". That's why she still insists on bathing me and dressing me. Bullshit. I told my dad because one night, she touched my junk. I don't know. I didn't know. That's the thing. She took away my innocence without me knowing." He stopped again. He was staring at a spot on the table, his lips was quavering. He was going to cry. Hell, I was going to cry, because I knew where this was going. "Shane-"

"No, fuck you, I'm finishing my story." He said. "Anyway, I told and he didn't believe me, because "mommy wouldn't do that, son." So, she touched me whenever he was gone. She'd pull down my pants and touch me, and I'd beg her to stop, I'd cry, say "mommy that hurts" but she never stopped, and I never said another word to my dad until I was 12 and it still hadn't stopped. What really made me tell him again was the fact that I'd started puberty and when she jacked me off, I'd actually get hard. And that wasn't okay. I remember the look on her face the first time it happened. She was a monster. A fucking monster. Most kids enjoy being at home instead of school at that age, but not me. Because while those other kids went home to chocolate chip cookies and video games, I had to go home to my mother holding me down and shoving a dildo up my ass." He paused, and I moved closer, grabbing his hand. "Don't." I whispered. "I get it. Please don't go on." I could see the tears on his face. He shook his head. "I told my dad. I told him if he didn't believe me, I'd go to the police because I was tired of it, and it hurt. So, he'd asked my mom, and turns out, she'd never lie to her oblivious husband because she cracked. And they got a divorce and she went to jail. But... she killed herself. I don't know how they could have been so stupid to let her near a knife, but she stabbed herself. I wanted that bitch to rot in that fucking jail. I wanted her to pay for what she'd done, not just... kill herself. Then on top of that, my dad had cancer and he fucking died-"

I kissed him. I didn't know what else to say to him. I could say I'm sorry, but I apologize too much as it is. When he kissed me back, I thought it was impossible to feel so much from it. It was a kiss, lips touching, but it felt like so much more. Communication, a whole conversation. I think I pulled away first. "She had no right," I whispered to him. He chuckled. "I'm over it. I accepted it. I realize she's a sick fuck and there's nothing I can do to change that." He seemed sure of himself, but I wasn't so positive.

"Are you still depressed?" I asked him. He nodded. "I'm one depressed motherfucker." He muttered, kissing my neck. I laughed. "We're two depressed motherfuckers." He moved his lips to mine again, and it seemed like he was really into it for just telling me his sob story, and I felt guilty for some reason. I didn't want to use his emotional state as a time to fuck. I wanted him to fuck me, of course. All the time. But, not now.

He pushed me down onto my back and climbed onto of me, between my legs. Holy hell this was hot. I pulled away from him to take a breath and he groaned, propping himself up on his elbows. "You're thinking, I can tell." I smiled at him shyly. This position was... well it was sensual. And he didn't seem to be fazed. "Um... you're... you're obviously horny." I muttered. He laughed pressing him lips to mine for a short second. I wanted more. When he kissed me, I don't know. I melted inside. "Yeah. And it's all your doing. You're a monster." I pulled my hand out from under him and touched his cheek. He kissed the palm of my hand. "Can I tell you something?" He asked me. I nodded, moving my hand to the mess of hair on his head, admiring how soft it was.

"I feel alive when I'm with you. I feel like I can tell you everything and you won't ever judge me or run away from me or hide how you feel. You're probably the most charming, trustworthy, down to earth person I've ever had the fortune to meet." I stopped playing with his hair. "What did I do to deserve such high praise?" I asked him. He shrugged. "I don't know. You're just you. And I let you in. And I showed you all of me, and for once you listened, and I liked it. And you care and you're kind to me. Sometimes." He looked embarrassed for the first time ever, and I drank it up, but also I was on the verge of tears. "Well, I let you in, and that's huge for me. I hate people. But...I like you. Way more than I should. You're easy to talk to and you're funny and I can honestly say that I've never met anyone like you." He smiled and touched his forehead to mine. "I was going to try and fuck you, but... now I really would just like to cuddle. Is that okay? If we cuddle?" I laughed and nodded. "We can tell each other stories and fall in love." He whispered to me. I liked that Idea a lot, actually. The thought of him falling in love with me made my heart pound. The thought of having anyone love me made me smile. He would be mine. Technically, he is mine already, but he'd love me. I smiled at him and kissed him lightly. "I would love that," I whispered to him. He grinned and moved his head, and before I knew what he was doing, he kissed my forehead, and I blushed like crazy. Not because of the contact, but because that only happens in movies. Not in my fucked up life. Not to me.

But, somehow today, it did. And it felt wonderful.

~ Hey so can i ask a question? Has anyone ever heard of the vote button? Or how to comment, because I can't tell. Plese, it would help so much to do these things because my story would get out to more people and that would brighten up my life. really. So click the vote button and comment on my story. I need to know if you like this story. thank you so much for caring. and reading this. I love you all. Okay bye.