Rejected (boyxboyxboyxboy)

Chapter Four

Oliver's POV

I wake up feeling kisses planted on my back. A hand is firmly wrapped around my waist. The kisses move up to my collarbone. I smile gently, closing my eyes. I love the touch from my mate.

It feels so good to say it.

My mate.

"Taylor, you're so playful today." I turn to him to look into his bright yellow eyes. His hair was black, leading to faded blue tips. I kissed his nose playfully, and we smiled gently at each other.

"My love language is physical; what can I say?" He takes my hand in his and kisses it.

"Then let's get physical, shall we?" I roll on top of him and take his lips in mine, tasting his strawberry chapstick. His hands go to my waist and squeeze me tightly.

"You taste so good." Taylor smiles breathlessly at me from below, and I blush and smile shyly back.

"You say that too much."

"It's not my fault you taste so divine." I kiss and nibble his neck; his whines make me go crazy. I go further down his body, kissing his skin. I am about to get to his groin when I hear his dad's truck pull in.

"Oh shit!" He sits up quickly, and the panicked look on his face makes me want to cuddle him.

"I thought he was supposed to be gone all weekend?" I said this in distress as I started to slip my clothing back on.

"He was!" He peaks out of the window, and I look over his shoulder, seeing his father getting out of his red pickup truck.

He starts to put his clothes on, and we both try to act natural. My heartbeat was the fastest it ever could be. He unlocks the door, getting ready for the rampage.

We put on a football game, trying to act like we weren't doing anything. My anxiety was rising. I felt a hand on mine.

"Breath, it'll be fine." I take deep breaths until we hear loud, banging footsteps coming up the stairs. They seemed to start fast and get slower. The sounds of a swaying body and slumped feet. Taylor took his hand off mine and tried to act normal.

"Boys!" We flinch at his voice, wondering if he knows.

"We're in my room!" Taylor's voice quivers. The next thing we know, the door opens, and there stands his father with a beer in his hand.

One too many beers.

"What are you boys up to?" He looks at us suspiciously. Taylor points to the TV.

"Watching the game," he answers, knowing his father would only listen to his words. He's known for his drinking and violent tendencies. No matter how much I ask Taylor to get out of his father's life, he won't listen.

He looked me dead in the eyes with the most blank psychotic stare in the world and said to me very clearly, "Get out."

The words sent a shiver down my spine, and I froze there for a second or two. Taylor's eyes glanced at me; you could tell he wanted to help me. I got all the stuff I could grab and walked out the door. I turned back for a second to see a sorrowful Taylor but kept going, knowing that it would only be worse for him if I stayed.

I felt myself stir awake, still having Taylor in my head.

About a week after the incident, I felt the bond between us break entirely. We were no longer mates. It was also the last day I ever saw color again. Maybe I was a bit happy that I wouldn't have to see that red pickup truck again. I tried to get a hold of him and eventually got him to pick up my phone call, and all he said was...