The Beta's Straight Mate (boyxboy) Bk 2

Chapter 8: Acceptance is key.

Chapter 8

It had been about three weeks since I told Grady he was my mate and I still wasn’t sure how he was taking the news. It’s like he brushed it aside without outwardly rejecting it and I wasn’t sure what that meant.

I’d already come to the conclusion that telling him when I did hadn’t been the best decision, he’d already had so much to deal with that day and news like that had probably been too much for him to take in.

After I’d told him, he’d gone to the kitchen to have a drink, okay a few drinks and then he said we’d deal with it another time. The only problem was; three weeks had already passed and I was still waiting for ‘another time’ to show itself.

I’d already decided not to bug him about it though; he was finally coming to terms with the fact that he was gay so of course he needed more time. When he’d told me that we’d give it a try I’d been ecstatic, excited, over the moon; thinking we’d finally be together, we’d finally be in a relationship, but while you could say we were somewhat together it didn’t exactly feel that way.

Yes we had sex often but it felt like that’s all we did when we saw each other. Gone was the easy friendship we used to share. These days when we were at school; while we still hung out as we always did; it was always with a group of friends ,it was almost as if he was going to great lengths to make sure we were never alone at school. He’d already made it clear he didn’t want the student body knowing he was gay; he said that it was his decision to make and I respected that.

I wasn’t allowed to touch him in public, heck I wasn’t allowed to touch him unless we were having sex! So that’s what it all boiled down to; he said he’d give it a try but I was starting to think that maybe it would have been better if everything went back to the way it was. I missed my best friend, I missed talking to him, laughing and goofing off with him.

The more we had sex, even though it was amazing, the harder it was for me to look at myself in the mirror. He only came to me when he needed release, we didn’t cuddle or talk; nothing. We just had sex then he’d leave without saying a word; as if the act itself was all he could stand.

That in its self made me feel like some common whore, as if all I was good for was the sex. Yet I still did it, whenever he wanted to, I’d just give him what he wanted and then watch him leave. But I couldn’t help it; I craved his attention so much that even this was better than nothing at all.

At the moment I lay in bed, sweaty and panting after the wild sex we’d just had. I watched him in despair as he got up, without saying a word and crossed the room, picking up his discarded clothes and putting them on. I sat up in bed, my heart in my throat. He didn’t stay over anymore, ever since that first night when he’d been drunk.

He had just snapped on his jeans and was moving to find his shirt when I spoke up; “You know you could stay the night, I mean… it’s late you don’t have to rush home.” I spoke softly, hoping he’d stay.

He looked up at me briefly, then turned away again, pulling his shirt over his head “No I gotta get home.” was all he said.

And I blinked back the tears that formed in my eyes. I wasn’t weak; crying wasn’t for me but it felt like no matter what I did, I just pushed him further away. I’d tried reaching out to him in every way I knew how but nothing was working, he could hardly even stand to look at me and that hurt me in more ways than I could ever imagine.

 Every time he left like this after we had sex I felt more ashamed of myself; that I was allowing him to treat me this way, and every time he left like this it felt as if something broke inside me. It felt like rejection over and over again. A man could stand so much and no more; even from his own mate.