Preached By My Neighbor (LGBT/18+)

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Wesly Bennett

Everybody hurts, but mine is very painful. Very. They say love is the best wonderful thing that has ever happened to them. And I don't believe the cliché saying, because it hurt me. It didn't bring the best thing. It didn't bring me satisfaction. And the most important, it didn't bring me happiness. It didn't bring good stuffs to my life. For me, love is just a plain illusion. But... when I see, or even think, of Dex, the meaning of love to me changes. It changes into a statement: witted flowers bloom into a new beautiful one; the desert full of sands turns into an ocean full of fish; the rain stops, making the rainbow appear; the broken me turns into a fixed and normal me. But the worst thing is, at the same time, it changes into: You can't have him.

Because I f****d things up real bad.

Because of the past, I have even thought of suiciding. Murder myself. But I don't have the courage to do it, because I am just a piece of s**t. Full of shits, actually. I raped my own best friend. I am lusting over my hot neighbor, who has a freaking darn wife. I took pills. Anti-depressant pills. But it doesn't work. I moved always. It didn't work, either. Thinking of God, I think he is laughing at me like now. As to what the homophobic refer to us, a "sinner" and a "disgrace", an "abomination" and a "minion of hell", they are all true to me.

There is a knock on the door.

The intruder of my thoughts keeps pounding on the front door, making me stand up and grimace. Who could it be? In the middle of a f*****g night? Who? A polite burglar? I snigger at the silly thought. When I reach the door, I swing it open, ready to snap, but come face to face with Dex. He is standing there with a sad expression, wearing his blue with white stripes pajama.

"Dex," I say, narrowing my eyes at him. "What are you doing here?

"Sorry for disturbing you..." He says, looking guilty. He holds his face down, looking at his feet, as if finding it amusing all of a sudden. I wait for his response. No clue why he is here, standing in front of me. "Um, well..."

"Spill it, Dex."

"Well, my wife and I had a fight..."

"She kicked you out." I state proudly. He blushes and bites his lower lip. Stop it, Dex! You are freaking turning me on with that lip biting of yours! Just stop it. I want to say those words. But no, because my focus has been on his thin, pink lips. What would it feel when those lips of his damp on mine? Would it be good? Would it be deliciously tasty? I snap out of my trance as he asks me a question, but I didn't catch it, so I stay in dumb zoned, "Huh?"

"Um, I was... I was asking if I could sleep here... just for tonight." He mumbles, looking innocent and cute. With his dark hair sticking up in any direction, lips that are in a pout, cheeks the are in a puffy mode. Oh, God! He is so f*****g hot.

"Sure," I say nonchalantly, trying to act cool and not giddy, like I don't care.

He gives me a goofy smile that reaches his eyes. Even in the night, I can see his teeth. So white that I can practically see my reflection in it. I step aside so he may go inside. I am kind of glad he chose this house and not the others. I mean, I am new here, so it means that his neighbors have a lot of advantages than me. But he chose mine. As he walks in, I sniff, barely loud enough for him to hear. He smells cologne. Natural, very manly. I ask him if he wants to drink. He shakes his head and I motion upstairs, indicating that he can go now. He does. I grab a water bottle from the fridge, take the lid out, and drink, pouring it in my mouth. I wipe the bead of water running on the edge of my lips with the back of my hand and head upstairs.

When I head inside my room, my eyes nearly pop out of its socket, my jaw hanging from the sight. There, lying on my bed, is Dex in a boxer. Good thing it's midnight and dark, so he can't see me blushing. Extremely blushing from the sight, He still doesn't notice me. He is pained and in a very deep thought. Dex is a very cheerful guy, always smiling. But now, it's like that part of him has vanished. I walk carefully and lay down beside him. I can't afford to look at him. He might see me blushing. But as soon as I lay down, I can feel his stare focusing on me. Ny heart quickens its beat, making my breathing shallow. Our knees are brushing, and he doesn't move. He just lets it stay there. Ignoring the burning sensation from the knee contact, I turn around, my back facing him.

"Wes..." He whispers. I murmur a hmm and he replies. "Thank you for letting me stay." I tell him he is welcome. Even when I am not facing him, his stare has been focusing on me for a very long time. I silently pray: Please look away. Don't stare at me that way. Or just don't stare at me. At all. You don't know how much you affect me. Turn around, shut your eyes and go to sleep. My prayer has been answered. Then I fall back to sleep, with my heart beating so fast against my ribcage.

+++

Waking up, I squint my eyes, adjusting my eyes to the brightness of the room. I sigh and look at my side. My eyes widen at the sight. Dex is sleeping here, with me, in my bed! Omigosh. Omigosh. Um, Oh My God! Oh My God! It's not a dream. It's not a f*****g dream! The smile automatically appears. Adding to my dreams, I have had a very serious wet dream about Dex. Good thing I didn't do nasty in real life. I feel something weird in my palm. I mentally groan. I think I did something nasty in real life. It could be my semen. s**t.

I trail my eyes across my arm to my hand, to my palm and I nearly faint. My f*****g palm is f*****g resting on f*****g Dex's f*****g bulge! He is hard as rock and... very huge. My heart is beating fast again, from anticipation and excitement. A new discovery! My eyes trail across his toned body. He has abs and a little hair sprouting near his belly down to his groin. I bite my lower lip seductively and I can feel my boxer tighten.

Accidentally rubbing it, he moans and touches my hand, guiding my hand to rub it, to the point where he starts to buckle his hips up and down. f**k! Complete turn on. He is having a wet dream! I wonder who it is... he could be having wet dreams... for his wife. Not me. He groans rather loudly as he spurts his semen, his boxer beginning to wet. My palm is sticky and I immediately bolt out of the room as he loosen his grip around my wrist.

I feel a little claustrophobic. It feels like I've been in a box, in a cold, dark box. I wash my hands in the sink and maintain my normal breathing, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly. I then begin to prepare a breakfast. Toast bread with butter and sugar on top, and a hot chocolate. 15 minutes later, Dex comes down. He is now wearing his pajama.

"Did you notice anything unusual while I was sleeping?" He asks me as he rubs the back of his neck. He means the rubbing thingy part? I shake my head, trying to act innocent as I always do when I am in deep s**t. "Ah..."

"Yeah, ah... Eat." I say, motioning to the foods across the table. He flushes but then take a seat on the stool. He mumbles a thank you and I just nod in acknowledgment.

After we eat, he says thank you again to me and I just nod, telling him I am always here for him. I hope that doesn't sound odd. But he doesn't seem to notice. Then in a matter of seconds, he's gone and already back in his true home.

I feel the ache in my heart again.