Thin Skinned [Boy x Boy]

Chapter 1

Cuts P.O.V

"Baby, you need to stop picking at your skin while I'm at work," my boyfriend, Horn, says while cleaning my newest wounds.

I suffer from dermatillomania and constantly pick, rub, and scratch at my skin. It's a medical condition that is pretty compulsive. I wish that I could stop, but unfortunately, I can't.

"I know, but I can't help it, you know that. I just scratch or rub and then it gets worse," I explain softly, a bit of pain in my voice as he finishes cleaning my wounds by wrapping my arm in gauze.

Horn sighs softly and pulls me onto his lap. I blush slightly and hug his neck to keep myself steady. He kisses my neck softly in a few place as a show of affection. He doesn't bite me, however.

We learned that I shouldn't be bitten the hard way. Horn once left a love bite on me while we were being intimate. Everything seemed fine until I was in the hospital a few days later with a nasty infection. He no longer bites me and constantly apologizes for what happened. The amount of bacteria in the human mouth is rather shocking. My immune system was never all that strong to begin with.

"I just don't want you to get any more infections. You know how easily you get sick," he says, resting his chin on my shoulder.

I run my fingers through my hair while letting out a soft sigh. "I know."

Bandages and gauze litter nearly my entire body. Whenever Horn isn't around I can't help but scratch and pick at wounds that are already there. It only adds to my abundance of scars. 

My condition concerns Horn very much. Ever since the hospital, he's been begging me to at least attempt to restrain myself. Unfortunately, it isn't that simple. If I could just flip a switch and solve my problems, I would.

Horn has problems of his own. He smokes marijuana a good majority of the time. He knows that I don't like it and has been trying to cut back, but when I pick he smokes. It's as if our conditions go hand in hand.

I take a deep breath and sigh, the familiar smell of marijuana filling my nostrils. Horn has obviously been smoking today. He doesn't remain high very long anymore because he's used to the feeling, but he still gets some of the effects.

"You've been smoking," I mumble softly, running my fingers through his recently cut hair.

He used to have it long; nearly to his shoulders. He would tie it back in a loose ponytail and it suited him. He decided to cut it short a few weeks ago. I'm still getting used to his short hair.

"And you've been picking. You know how it is with us," he replies, ruffling my curly ginger hair.

"Smart ass," I mutter with a small huff.

"I'd rather be a smart ass than a dumb ass, Hun," he says smugly while carrying me to bed.

It's his usual reply when I call him a smart ass. As dumb as he may seem sometimes he's actually rather witty with his comebacks.

He lays me down first and then gets in a comfortable position with his head on my chest. For some reason, only while he's high, he likes to listen to my heart beat. I'm not exactly sure why. He never exactly gives me a straight answer.

I play with his hair while we lay in bed. There is nothing better to do and his hair is pretty soft and fun to play with. Plus he really enjoys it. It practically puts him to sleep.

"I love you," he says softly, somewhere in between awake and asleep.

We've been dating for several months by now, but for some reason, I still get excited when Horn says that he loves me. It makes me very happy to know that my feelings are mutual. I finally have someone who won't leave me; who loves me for my imperfections; who won't judge me because of my problems.

Everyone else I've ever had has abandoned me for one reason or another. I suppose I'm just not a lovable person. People with severe health issues usually have a hard time finding people to stay by their side. For whatever reason, Horn has never wanted to leave. I don't know what I'd do without him.

"I love you too," I say a bit too eagerly.

He laughs softly and wraps his arms around my waist. My cheeks grow hot and I know that I'm flustered.

"You're so cute when you're excited," he says while staring up at me with his dark hazel eyes.

I can say with all honesty that I could get lost in those eyes of his. Every detail about them suits him. Even with they're bloodshot and he is as tired as can be, his eyes still remain beautiful to me.

Horn calls my eyes a light grey color. I don't really pay attention to my own features that much. I was never one for vanity.

When it comes to myself, I feel very insecure. I'm covered in scars, which society always portrays as being ugly. I see myself as ugly and deformed because of it. Horn, however, calls me the most perfect man he has ever laid eyes on. Being transgender, my self-esteem is practically non-existent. I have no body confidence at all. Horn truly knows how to flatter me.

"You're the only one that gets me excited," I tell him after a moment.

"In more ways than one~," he says with a flirtatious tone.

My entire face quickly becomes a dark crimson color as I take one of our pillows and hold it over my face. While he knows what to say to flatter me he also knows exactly what to say to fluster me.

He chuckles and takes the pillow from my grasp, placing a soft kiss on the tip of my nose. A smile slowly forces itself onto my lips after he does so.

Even if he can get on my nerves sometimes there is still no one else I would rather spend all my time with.