15. Accept

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**DOUBLE UPDATE -  READ 14 FIRST**

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**DOUBLE UPDATE -  READ 14 FIRST**

"Put another one on."

Micah nods, agreeing with me. Aiden sits up even more, glancing at the bathroom. "It's clear he doesn't like it. What about comedy?"

Ada shrugs. "I'm alright with that. I've never seen the one with those little yellow figures. Maybe that one?"

I flick her head. "How did you—you know what, never mind. I'm getting Aaron, make sure this movie's gone when I'm back," I warn and get up, leaving the living room.

My body stills just when I'm about to knock on the bathroom floor. Is he crying?

Worry takes me over and before I know it, I'm knocking on the door with a frown. A deep breath is sucked in, and then there's a beat of silence. 

"One-one second!" he calls, and then I hear a silent curse under his breath. I frown even more. "No seconds, open the fucking door!"

Luckily, he listens and opens the door. Only by a bit, but I slam it open myself. And then I see him. The small boy is sitting on the closed toilet, his knees tucked to his chest and arms around them. And he's sobbing so hard he's having trouble breathing.

I close the door behind me and kneel next to him, pulling him closer. He sobs again. The sound tears my heart apart—and suddenly, all I ever want to do is making sure this boy never cries again.

I pull him to my chest, cupping the back of his head. "Sh, it's okay. You're safe, I'm with you," I whisper. I have no idea what's going on, or if this is what he needs, but at least I'm trying.

He makes a choked noise. "Do-do you like me?" he cries, one trembling hand trying to wipe his tears away. I frown and pull away to look at his face, but he hides it.

Like him? Of course I fucking like him. Half of the time, I want to comfort him and carry him around the house, hearing his laugh—the other half? I want to fuck him. It's wrong to think of a student like that, but I can't stop my mind from forming images of how he'd look after we'd be done with him.

His face stained with pretty tears, soft whimpers leaving his mouth. His limp body just lying one the bed while we use his body for our please—and he'd like it. I'd have hi begging for a release, desperately. Then, after, he'd be so cute and exhausted he'd fall asleep in my arms, and I'd take care of him. 

But right now? I just want to make him laugh again. I love his laugh. And if it's the only thing I'll ever hear again, I'd be long happy.

"Yes, Aaron, I fucking like you," I whisper, pulling him even closer. He nods and sobs again. "And-and the others? Maybe?" 

I tighten my grip on him. "Yes. They all like you, baby. You're very likable," I add, chuckling. I mean, come on, how can you not like him?

He softly gasps at my answer, rapidly blinking. "Say that again?" I frown and sit more comfortably on the floor, keeping him in my arms. "You're very likable. I don't know why you would think—no. No, no, no. Aaron, do not listen to those assholes."

I swear to god, if he's crying because of a message of Stansley's sons, I'm fucking throwing their phone in the Grand Canyon. 

His hands tremble as he slightly turns his wrist away from me. Suspicion raises in me. 

"But what if they're right, Seb?" he whispers. "My parents kicked me out because I'm a-a fag. They make my life hell because of it. I don't have any friends because of it. I'm all on myself."

I cup his cheeks with so much force I'm surprised he doesn't wince. He just widens those big, blue eyes and stares up at me. "First of all, we talked about that word. You have to forget it."

He gulps. "I-I can't. They remind me of it daily."

My eyes narrow. "Then you'll delete their numbers. Now," I add, when I see him averting his eyes. 

His body stiffens. "B-but—" "I'll do it for you, then," I grunt and steal his phone away. He gasps and tries to reach it, but his small arms are nothing to my strong ones. 

Anger pulses in my veins when I see what that one son of a bitch sent tonight. It doesn't stop, not even after telling Aaron no one will ever love him.

Youll be dead by tomorrow

Bcs thats what everyone wants

No one cares for you

Stupid fag

Only fun to toy around with

Fucking hell. I look at Aaron's face, which is scrunched in pain. "Oh baby," I mutter and cup his face again.

"Don't listen to them. I mean it, Aaron. If you keep listening to them, you'll never accept yourself." He sniffles again but luckily, his sobs have died down.

"I have," I tell him, whispering. With big eyes, he looks at me again. I set my forehead against his, finding peace in the movement.

"W-what?"he stutters. My eyes lock on his. God, I adore his eyes. I could look at them the whole day, if only that wasn't creepy.

"I'm attracted to guys. And I have accepted that, even if people are giving shit for it." I'm not ashamed to admit it.

His eyes widen even more. "Really?" I nod. "Really. You don't have to call yourself a fag because others do it, Aaron. You're gay, so what? It's a part of you, and you'll have to accept it sooner or later."

He nods. Wipes his stained tears away. "So-so, you're saying I'm likable, not caring about who I love?" 

I smile and nod. "That's exactly what I'm trying to say." I notice he averts his eyes again. In doubt or in thought, I don't know. "Want me to prove it?"

He blushes, and I know that's a yes. So I cup his cheeks, smile, and collide our lips.

His muffled gasp is the last thing I hear before my ears roar with pleasure.

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