Snake Eyes [boyxboy]

Snake Eyes {24}

                                                                                ***Maxx’s POV***

                Kojak growled as my foot hit him. “Sorry Kojak,” I said, shifting and wrapping my arms around Chandler as I did so.

                Chandler rolled his eyes before bringing his mouth back to mine. Our tongues pressed together and Chandler ran his hands on my bare chest. His hands slid down towards my jeans.

                I shoved him off of me and sat up. Chandler rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his messy hair in an attempt to fix it. He threw my shirt at me and I pulled it on, watching Chandler as he did the same.

                “My mom will be home in a few minutes,” I said, stroking Kojak affectionately. Kojak panted in content.

                Chandler nodded and stretched, cracking his back. “Today was interesting. I heard Mark got his ass kicked before first period,” he said and snickered.

                I continued to stroke Kojak’s fur. I bit my lip, turning my head so that Chandler wouldn’t see. Mark had gotten beat up?

                It had probably been those stupid homophobic bullies of his. God fucking dammit! I hated them! Why couldn’t they just leave Mark alone? I had already done all the damage to him that the poor kid could take. He didn’t need them to add anymore pain to his life.

                When I had told Mark that I loved him, I hadn’t been lying. But how could I ever admit that to Chandler and my dad?

                The game…

                I reached in my pocket and rubbed one of the dice with my thumb. My grandpa had taught my dad the game.

                Break a heart to save a heart. That’s what my dad always said.

                I had cheated on Mark. Humiliated him, something I had only done to one other boy, boyfriend number two.

                Mark would get it over. It was just a high school relationship. But the pain of the heartbreak and humiliation would stick with him. He wouldn’t do it to anyone else, because he now knew firsthand how it felt to have your heart ripped out and stomped on.

                My grandpa, who had been my childhood hero, had been bedridden when he was near death at the age of 68. And his stupid whore of a wife, my grandma, had gone out and cheated on him.

                First off, old people sex. Ew. Second, cheating on your husband of 46 years and breaking his heart as he lay dying? Bitch, please. She had destroyed the man who had taught me how to be strong.

                So my grandpa, as he progressively got worse, taught my dad the game, a game my dad had already started playing in high school, though my grandpa hadn’t known that. My dad had taught the game to me when I was with him for those two years.

                He told me it would have made my grandpa proud to see me playing his game. That made me happy. I just wanted to make my poor, dead grandpa proud. And my dad, of course. I loved seeing the pride in his eyes when he looked at me.

                Chandler had gotten in on the game at my request. He loved playing it. He was a whore, and we both knew it. Plus, Chandler liked the whole idea of us being friends with benefits. He had always wanted me, but he didn’t want a relationship with me.