Consumed [Zombie Apocalypse] (Boyxboy)

24.) Love Hurts

A/N: These next two chapters get a little graphic. So, just a warning in advance.

Enjoy! ;)

~Creston's POV~

We've been driving for almost twenty minutes, only coming across a handful of Infected and neither of us has said a single word since we left the safe house.

My head was spinning around in circles and I could barely concentrate on anything that was flashing by me through the windows. I was stuck in my own little world inside of my head, completely blocking out anything in the physical world around me.

Jacob just said that he loved me.

I've never had anyone say that to me before that wasn't part of my family. Even then, the only person who's ever said it and meant it before was Joe.

Did he really love me or was he just caught up in the hype of the moment?

I knew that he liked me, that much was obvious. I would always catch him sneaking glances at me while we were around my brother and everyone else; and whenever he was around me, alone, he would always be right by my side and sneak in an occasional kiss or two.

I wasn't an idiot I could see that he cared for me. The way that he got all protective when Joe lost his shit back at the house was a clear indicator of it, but I didn't actually think that he loved me.

Now I was scared that our relationship that we've worked so hard to build up over the past two weeks would crumble because of those three stupid words. And knowing the consequences of those words from my past encounters with it, it'll probably be me that will end up ruining the relationship.

Everyone who's ever said those words to me have either abandoned me or hurt me in some way. My mother used to say those words to me all the time when I was growing up. I believed her, so when I finally worked up the courage to tell her that I was gay, I figured that she would accept me and still love me, no matter how I identified.

I've never been so wrong in my life.

It was a steep downward spiral that eventually led to multiple calls to the police and high tensions in our household for more than a year. I rarely spoke to her after that and whenever I did it was usually me screaming at her and her screaming at me.

The other instance was with my first love, or so I thought he was. His name was Michael. He was tall, muscular, rich, popular, and at the time, a really nice guy. He was everything and more that I wanted in a boyfriend. He had it all and the fact that he wanted me completely boggled my mind. I just couldn't say no.

Our relationship, the first for me and the first openly gay one for him, was pretty smooth sailing in the beginning. He would take me out on nice dates, buy me clothes that he thought looked sexy on me and we would hang out at his house all of the time. It was the perfect relationship at first.

Until we had sex.

It was amazing the first time, well as amazing as a first time could be. There were some awkward moments, but overall there was nothing to complain about from my perspective, besides the fact that I was a little sore the next day.

However, according to Michael's perspective I was the best that he had ever had. Which would normally seem like a good thing, but I quickly realized that it wasn't.

We started to do it more and more often, to the point where it was almost an everyday occurrence. To add to that, with each passing day it was getting less and less pleasurable for me. It went from him making sure that he was doing it right and making sure that I was comfortable to not giving a damn and only using me to get himself off and treating me like his own personal cum dump.