Stop Bullying Me! [boyxboy]

Chapter Five

Chapter Five (Nick's POV)

I couldn't believe it. I had really done it with Oliver Patterson. Pretty boy Barbie Doll.

I had nicknamed him that because my sister had once had a barbie doll that she always liked with bleach blonde hair and green eyes. It was her favorite doll and when I saw Oliver, I swore I saw that doll again, only far better made.

Oliver was, to put it bluntly, the cutest thing in the world. I had known it the day Fat-Ass Josh shoved him into me at the front doors of the middle school. He was smaller than me with gorgeous pale green eyes with no trace of blue or silver, just pure green. His bleach blonde was so pale and clean, so soft and it gave him an even more boyish appearance.

He was, without a doubt, the cutest thing ever.

And I hated him for it.

Why did he have to ruin everything? Did he have any idea how adorable he was? It wasn't just his looks, but his damn personality! His sarcasm was witty, clever, and so cute that it was annoying. He was innocent in his own way. Although, that video made me question that.

It didn't matter. He was cute and I wish he wasn't.

We're both guys. It may seem normal to him since his parents are gay, but it wasn't normal for me. I was a ladies man and had so many girlfriends, I couldn't even count them on my fingers if I had four extra hands. My mother was pretty intent on getting me a girlfriend that I could stick with and if she ever found out that my real interest was a male counterpart, she'd skin me alive.

But despite all that, we did. I ended up having sex with Oliver Patterson, hoping it would was just a physical attractive, but it wasn't.

I loved Oliver Patterson, and it was only about to get worse...

I woke up to Oliver gasping for air. My eyes flew open and I was drowsy for a second when I realized he was sobbing. For a second, I thought I'd hurt him or his dad walked in on us and was freaking out. I sat up quickly to see him just waking up, flying upright and opening his mouth to scream, but I clamped a hand over his mouth and held him against me. He screamed into my hand for a second, then cut himself off and panted.

"Jesus Christ," I whispered, glancing at the clock on his nightstand that read midnight, "What the hell, Oliver?" I paused when I saw the tears streaming down his face. He was choking on his breath, so I let go of his mouth and just cradled him against me.

This is what I meant by worse than before.

I was surprised at the painful ache in my chest.

Oliver was scared of something. Not just scared, terrified. His whole body was trembling and covered in sweat, his pretty blonde hair sticking to his face as his green eyes wildly searched his room, like he was waiting for someone to pop out of the shadows.

I just held him until he calmed down, pressing his hands to his face for a second before he took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry," He managed at last, "I'm sorry..."

"What the hell was that?" I asked. Oliver opened his mouth to reply when a loud crack of thunder exploded in the sky outside. I was shocked when Oliver jumped and grabbed onto my arm around him. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly, gritting his teeth and digging his nails into my skin. I winced, but didn't yell at him for it.

I had never seen him like this before.

He was always rather cocky, sarcastic, and honest. Now he seemed smaller, fragile. I didn't want to let him go, even if he was hurting me.