Thin Skinned [Boy x Boy]

Chapter 13

Horn P.O.V

I sit out on the balcony and smoke a joint to calm my nerves. It frustrates Cuts, but I need this right now. This entire situation is frustrating.

Cuts doesn't understand that he could die if he goes through with this pregnancy. Not only would I lose a child, but I would lose him as well. I don't know if I could handle that.

There are other options that we could use to have children. Obviously, Cuts has done plenty of research on adoption. Now it seems that all that has left his mind because he has the chance to have a biological child.

A long puff of smoke leaves my mouth and is quickly blown away by the wind. I flick the butt of my joint off the balcony and sigh. I'm hesitant on going back inside.

Cuts is stressing about this too. He wants a child so badly that he's willing to risk his life to have one. He's willing to go against doctors just to prove them wrong. Mentally, this might be a good thing for him to do, but physically, it will destroy him.

I lean over the railing and pinch the bridge of my nose. Cuts wants this more than anything, I know that. I want to express my concern without sounding like I want him to have an abortion.

I would only want him to have an abortion if his life depended on it, which from everything Dr. Ginnings said, it does. There are so many risks that just don't seem worth it. All the risks of horrible infection. I don't want to see Cuts suffer in the hospital again. Infections are horrible things to go through.

After a while, I head back inside. Cuts has fallen asleep on the bed while wrapping himself in about three blankets. A soft sigh escapes my lips as I sit on the edge of the bed.

He stirs slightly but remains asleep. I brush a lock of hair off his face and lay down beside him. He sleeps peacefully even when I can see the tear stains on his cheeks.

I hate fighting with Cuts. We normally try to make up fairly quickly. We almost never sleep during a fight. I suppose he's just exhausted from the long day. He's had two panic attacks and has been fighting tooth and nail for what he wants. It would make sense that he's tired.

I pull Cuts close and hold him. I like having him near me. I hope we can work things out in the morning. I don't want to fight with him. The sooner we work this out, the better.

When I wake up in the morning I am surprised to see that Cuts isn't in bed with me anymore. I sit up and run my fingers through my hair before hearing the sound of running water. Cuts is in the shower.

I sit up and stretch out my morning aches. My stomach growls and begs for food since neither of us ate before falling asleep. I wasn't even hungry last night.

Making breakfast seems like a good idea to me so I get up to do so. Hopefully, Cuts and I can talk things out over breakfast.

I set a skillet on the stove and grab a carton of eggs and a pack of bacon. I crack four eggs into the skillet and cook them sunny side up. I then cook the bacon and have it all ready by the time Cuts is done.

Cuts comes out dressed in one of my hoodies that he's dubbed his own and a pair of boxers. His hair is damp and is starting to curl back into its normal form.

He seems surprised to see that breakfast is ready. "You made breakfast?" he asks.

"Yes," I reply, handing him a plate.

"You only cook when you've done something wrong," he says after taking a bite of egg.

I huff softly and take a bite of my own breakfast. "That's not necessarily true."

He rolls his eyes and takes another bite. "Then why did you make breakfast?" he asks.

I poke the yolk of one of my eggs with my fork to avoid answering. "Because I don't want you to be mad at me," I finally answer.

Cuts raises his eyebrows at me and sets his plate on the counter. He doesn't seem very happy.

"I'm not mad at you," he says calmly.

He seems calm and relaxed but I know that he isn't happy about this situation. Deep down he has some negative feelings toward me.

"Really?" I ask because I honestly don't believe him.

"I'm not mad. That isn't the word I would use. I'm upset," he corrects me.

I set my plate down on the counter and cross my arms. "Same difference," I mutter softly, knowing that Cuts will probably hear me.

"If I was mad I would have locked you out on the balcony when you went out to smoke, but since I was upset I decided to rest and clear my head," he says, his tone beginning to show his irritation.

I sigh softly and pinch the bridge of my nose. I don't want to fight anymore.

"I don't want to fight about this, Cuts, but I want to talk this out and make sure that the best decision is made. There are so many risks. I don't want to lose you," I tell him.

Cuts sits down, pulls his knees up to his chest and lets out a shaky sigh. He's stressing again.

"I know the risks. I know how thin my skin is. I know the risk of infection. But I want to do this and I need your support. I'll take care of myself and I'll make sure to take extra good care of my skin. Please," he says softly as his eyes gloss over with tears.

"Cuts, I know how badly you want this, but you heard the doctors-."

"I've been proving doctors wrong nearly my entire life." Tears fall from his eyes as he interrupts me. "Please, Horn, just have a little faith in me."

I sigh and hug him tightly. He hugs me just as tight and takes a deep breath.

I don't want to fight anymore. Perhaps Cuts is right. He has been defying doctors for most of his life. He could do this. It won't be easy, but then again, nothing has been easy for him.

I promised that I would be by his side no matter what and I'll be damned if I stop now.