Wicked Summer Games. BxB (Complete)

11. Inhaler.

"Axel," I mumble, I will never get used to saying his name. It sounds strange but every time I say It, my tummy flatters, not right now, though. This time it's all different. My tummy does not bubble with butterflies, it bubbles with anger. Nothing else, just outrage.

"You should go," Axel says, and for a second, I feel like slashing a slap across his face. How dare he dismiss me like I am a child?

I am fucking seventeen for fuck's sake! And while I might not know much about life, I know just enough to be at least respected in my own room.

He and his girlfriend—or fuck buddy or whore or—whatever she is, are the ones who are supposed to be leaving.

"I will see you later," the girl says in a low voice. For a slight moment, my anger reduces, but even when she is the one leaving not me, it doesn't change the fact that he fucked someone else—in my bed.

It's not like I want him to fuck me or anything—my heart is the one complicating matters here.

I should not be feeling betrayed or cheated on or anything of that sort. I should only be angry because they used my bed, my personal space, my bedsheets, and my covers for their debauchery.

It hurts more than anything.

The girl gets off Axel, shamelessly, with not even the slightest clothing on her. I look away immediately, mortified by the view.

I will be honest with you right now; I have never seen a naked woman in person. I had only seen them the one time I tried to watch porn - Tigan would not stop talking about this specific porn actress—so I searched and watched. Two minutes into the act, my stomach turned with disgust, and so I stopped, from that time I never actually gave it another chance.

And I guess it was around the same time that I finally admitted to myself that all the breasts, the hips, and the vagina did not excite me as much as a man's body amused me.

I admitted to myself that I was gay. I am gay.

So, no matter how hard I try to envy the curvy girl in front of me, I don't find her interesting. So, I look away.

A few seconds pass, and she walks past me, mumbling a low, "Sorry."

Well, at least she has the decency to apologize for her wrongdoings, unlike the guy I am forced to face right now.

Minutes pass, and none of us say anything. I can hear the front door open and close. I guess she has finally left.

"Luke," Axel mumbles under his breath, getting out of my bed.

My heart thuds against my chest, and I'm ready to look away when he finally stands up, thankful he is wearing boxer briefs—I'm low-key disappointed. Maybe I wanted to see what drew a girl to agree to this. To have sex in my bed.

So, they sent me out there to walk the dog while they did this?

Ironic. I have no doubts that Jamie is doing the same in his room, hence the loud music.

"In my bed, dude," I manage to utter, even when there's something stuck in my gut. It's heavy, it's big, and it's choking me. I want to cry, but I won't do that here—not in front of Axel.

"It's…"

"Disrespectful. It's disrespectful," I say what he doesn't have the balls to say. I bet they're all drained now since he had sex.

"I can explain."

I chuckle. "Can you?"

He is quiet, standing there with a fallen face and boxer briefs around his tight ass—which I don't find attractive anymore.

He's disgusting.

For him to do this to me, he is just as pathetic as Jack Morty and I hate him.

"I'm-"

"Don't." As much as I would like to hear something like "I'm sorry" or whatever he wants to say from his mouth, I know he won't mean any of it. So, it's pointless.

If he cared enough, he would not even have thought of doing this.

"I need my inhaler," I mumble, my breaths are coming out more rapidly than usual.

I can barely breathe well; there's something in my chest, and my heart hits hard against my chest.

The air in this room is suddenly not enough for both of us. I fan my face because it feels hot. I am sweating profusely.

I know this feeling all too well.

I'm having a fucking attack.

I cough out continuously and fly a hand to my chest. I squeeze it, but nothing happens. I sink to the floor, and my vision is becoming blurry—I need that stupid inhaler.

"Inhaler," I mumble between coughs.

"Are you okay? Hey, are you okay? Luke?"

"Give me the inh-" I cough. "Inhaler, you idiot!"

"Where is it?" he asks—panicking as well. The site is funny, but not in my state.

"Under m-y pillow." I wheeze.

"Right, hold on." He grabs the pillows, throwing them to the floor. He rummages over the bed, and I wonder if he knows what an inhaler is.

Finally, after what feels like decades, he presents it.

And guess what?

It's broken.

"I-I think it's broken."

Like I don't see that!

"Fucccccccck!" I cry out as my chest keeps tightening.

May my soul rest in eternal peace.