Preached By My Neighbor (LGBT/18+)

Chapter 1 Wesly Bennett Jarrod and I were best friends, since we were 7 years old. But the term best friend vanished in our dictionary when I did the most horrible thing in the world. I raped my own best friend. Forcefully. Against his will. Whenever I sleep, I would see him in my dreams, crying in agony. I thought if I pleasured him enough, he would like me. He would love me. But I guess I thought wrong all along. Instead, he hated me. He cursed me. That's when the guilt started to punch me, every time Jarrod crosses my mind, there would be a pang of guilt in my stomach. It makes me sick. When he and I met in the bathroom in one of the best restaurants in town, after years and years of not meeting each other, no contact, everything came back. He asked me what the f**k I was doing here, in this town, and he was really mad at me. Then there was the guilt again. I tried to mask it by being cocky and arrogant, the usual old self. But I just couldn't, and it was tearing me inside. The glares he was shooting me, I tried not to flinch. I... I... I even toyed with him, so I could be the old me. I whispered, even mentioned the incident years ago. I had the urge of caressing his face, so I did. For a moment, I was so happy I have seen him again since ages ago. His face is still sharp and hot. But then he pushed my chest and asked me how could I do that to him, that I was his best friend. Then I spilled the beans, telling him I loved him, that I still love him, the reason why I did it, when I started feeling in love with him. I cried as I told him everything. I moved away from my house and searched for a new tie, cutting ties between us, cutting our friendship because I had f*****g tainted it with my gayness. He didn't deserve someone like me. He never did. I started to punch myself, repeating to myself that I hate myself. Much to my shock, Jarrod kneeled and comforted me, hesitantly at first. Typical Jarrod Wylan Lerman. I knew all along that he would never, ever hate a person for so long. But it made me think that he would never forgive me. That he would forever hate me. But here he was, comforting me, even patting my back. We talked, him letting me cry. I even called him at his nickname I have given to him. Rodman. That wasn't my intention but it came out without my brain's permission. He froze, then we stood up, me wiping my tears away. Too much to my shock, he wrapped his strong arms around my shoulder and I felt that heat again. The intimacy. But I pushed it aside. He asked me, in a softer voice, what I was doing here. I told him I just moved in, then I told him I needed to go... because I couldn't handle the pain anymore. I have been saying to myself that I didn't deserve his kindness, that I would never deserve it. I couldn't convince myself. +++ The birds are chattering rather loudly but gently and sweetly on the branches of the tree near my new house. Standing up, I walk towards the window and open it, letting the wind pass through it and hover inside my room, giving me chills. Grinning to myself, I look down, and there, I see Dex talking to someone. Dex and I have met a week ago. He doesn't know about my s****l orientation. I won't let him know because I already have a huge thing going on in my life, and I don't want a homophobic but hot guy preaching me. He and I are neighbors. Dex has this short, thin dark hair, always in a natural fahawk style. His eyes are gray, which always twinkle whenever he is amused or finds curiosity over things. He has a sun kissed skin. Arms are strong, the veins are visible and it looks so hot. His height is 6'1", taller than me, knowing I'm only 5'9". He is wearing a white t-shirt with dirt all over it; his face has a smudge of it, black pants and barefooted. He laughs at something the other guy just said. His laugh sends shiver up and down my spine and I automatically smile. I admire this man. It makes me smile, which I never did for a long time. When Jarrod and I met again, he couldn't make me smile. But that doesn't mean I stop loving him. But whenever I look at Dex, everything fades. It feels like I am in the movies, where the main characters are in the middle of the streets with cars passing them, but they can't stop making out, too busy with their own little world. Snapping out of my trance, I take a step backward and sigh. I can't fall in love again. Plus, he has a beautiful wife. If I was straight, I would marry his wife. But I am gay, and I would totally marry Dex. I groan, shaking my head. Back to reality, where I am sad and lonely, plain and boring, lifeless and plain gray. I head downstairs and prepare myself for something to eat. But then there is a knock on the door. Hesitantly, I trudge over the door and open it grumpily, revealing the hot and sexy Dex Evans. I sigh dreamily. He chuckles at me and rolls his eyes playfully. "Morning!" He chirps, patting my shoulder. "Well, my wife and I want you to have breakfast with us, if it's okay with you?" He asks me hopefully, putting a puppy eyes look. Which so freaking hot on him. He still manages to look like a God. Damn it, I can feel my pants beginning to tighten. Stupid d**k of mine. I nod. "Great!" He says enthusiastically, but his eyes hold something: sadness. "So see you there in 5 minutes. Okay?" I nod again. Then he runs towards his house. I run upstairs, to my room, to change into a casual wear, realizing that I'm still in my pjs. Once done, I get out of my house and go to theirs. Knocking at the door, the door swings open, appearing Cara, with her dark hair cascading down her shoulders. Her eyes are sea-green. Perfect, beautiful and elegant. She lets me in, giving me a curt and I chuckle at her. When I reach their kitchen, the house feels empty. I know they have a son, but where is he? Curiosity is eating me. So I investigate. The typical house contains walls with pictures hanging. So I walk towards the living room, where the stairs is. True enough, there are pictures hanging on the wall. I observe it and sure, they have one child. In the picture, Dexter's arm is draped across his son's shoulders. They are both grinning. Their son has a sea-green eyes, like Cara's, and has or a dark, thin hair like Dex's. Tall but Dex is taller. Cara is just laughing with them. Their child must be 18 or 19 years old, considering he looks so young. Cara appears on the stairs and I ask her. "Where's your son?" She nibbles her lower lip. Again, if I was straight, I would be turned on right now. Obviously not in reality. She just shrugs but I feel the tension, so I drop the subject. "So what are we having?" Her face lights up and she grins at me, running towards the kitchen and shouts about omelet something something. Yeah, omelet something something. Turns out that omelet something something is omelet with finely chopped tomato and corned beef. It's really delicious, but the man across from me is more delicious than what I am eating. Dex is wearing a blue shirt that has a silhouette of Napoleon, matching with white shorts. He looks like a teenager and is really delicious. His lips are in a curve, smiling. He seems satisfied of what he is eating. Then I feel the familiar thing that begins to stir inside me, making my heart thump in desire and love. I don't want to fall in love again. It will just hurt me. Like it did to me before. Somehow, Jarrod is still causing me pain, and I shouldn't feel that way. After all, I was his nightmare in reality. Was. Dex and his wife share a heated kiss in front of me and I look away, feeling the hurt in my chest. I feel heavy all of a sudden. Then I stand up and give a speech about how wonderful her cooking skill is. She gives me a thank you and I head out. When I reach outside, I feel a hand on my shoulder and I immediately turn around, wanting to know who it is. "Are you okay?" Dex asks me softly, his sad gray eyes piercing into mine. After a mere seconds, I finally respond, "Yes. Why would I be not okay?" Then I turn around, feeling the pain in my chest.