Page 84
“Please stop.”
“Why?”
“Because I said fucking stop. This isn’t me. I don’t want… this.”
I laughed softly. “See? That’s the difference between us, DeeDee. I know exactly who the fuck I am and what the fuck I want.” His entire body went still and I leaned closer, gripping the head of his cock through his clothing and squeezing. “I’m not ashamed of wanting you.”
His nostrils flared, his mouth parting on another little moan. I could see his pulse beating in his throat. Fast. Angry. And afraid. But afraid was better than numb. It was better than lying to yourself.
I pulled away. Just a fraction, so that I could look him in the eyes and he was forced to look at me too.
“I’m gay, Dee. I’m dramatic. I’m annoying. I’m jealous. I’m pissed off. And right now, I’m standing naked in front of a man too stupid to realize that everything he wants is standing in front of him too. And you know what I’m learning? That’s his fucking problem. Not mine.” I smiled even though the tears fell faster than the precum leaking out of the tip of my dick.
Dee shoved at my chest. I shuffled back a step, only to close the distance. “Move,” he grunted.
I didn’t. He shoved at me again. I stumbled and landed firmly on my ass. And it was as if all the air and sexual tension had been sucked out of the room. Darius looked at his hands, his eyebrows pinching in the middle and resembling something close to regret. No matter how hotheaded he came off, my boy was a lover, not a fighter. I was both. Sometimes…
I scoffed and pulled myself up off the floor, swiping up my shorts and stomping towards the bed. “Congratulations, asshole! You win!”
He peered over at me with those big, brown puppy-dog eyes of his while I yanked my shorts up my legs, snapping the waistband once for good measure.
“You wanted me to stop, so I stopped. You want me to pretend like there’s nothing going on between us. Let’s fucking pretend.” I grabbed my shirt but didn’t bother putting it on. “You win, Dee.”
“That’s not what I—”
“Oh, and Cindy’s real pretty, by the way. Smart too. Glad to see you’ve moved on from all the airheads. Maybe this one can teach you something.”
He sighed and shrunk in on himself a little. “You saw that, huh?”
“Hard to miss, you fucking exhibitionist. You’re lucky there weren’t any kids hanging around.”
“Alvin, I didn’t—” He took one step towards me. I immediately stepped back. The game board had turned. His eyes dropped to my hand again and I grimaced. The adrenaline was starting to wear off, quickly replaced by the familiar pain. “What did you do to your hand? Alvy, did you… burn yourself?”
My throat tightened. I looked away. Unfortunately, that was answer enough.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Alvin. What the fuck were you thinking?”
“Don’t you fucking dare.” I pointed a finger at his face, and he went quiet. “It’s none of your fucking business what I’m doing in here while you’re out there fucking her.”
“I didn’t know you were—”
“What?” I snapped my eyes back to him. “Watching? Taking fucking notes on how far you like someone’s tongue shoved down your throat?” I swallowed hard. “That I’m still desperately, masochistically in love with you?”
He at least had the decency to appear a little ashamed. It was too late for that now, though.
“Christ, DeeDee. Everybody at this camp knows but somehow you’re surprised.”
“Alvin.” He sighed. “I know.” Then he was the one swallowing back whatever he was trying to say. “I’ve always known.”
Suddenly, the cabin felt too small. Too hot. Too full of everything we had spent years refusing to acknowledge.
I stared at him. “Then why do you keep doing this to me? Why do you keep pulling me along for your fucked-up ride?”
His mouth opened and nothing came out, so I nodded. Exactly.
I climbed into my bunk and turned my back to him. “Goodnight, Darius D’Angelo. Go back to fucking Cindy. I don’t want you here.”
He didn’t leave, though. The man had the spectacular habit of being a spectator, standing in the middle of a disaster he helped create while looking confused about why everything was on fire.
