To say his skin itched wasn’t quite accurate. There was something going on beneath his skin, but it wasn’t quite like that, nothing so obvious or sharp as itching. It was a growing urge, a painful lack of pressure that lifted his skin from its proper place, leaving him… unsatisfied, hungry in his own skin. He needed contact, and he quit caring where or how.
He let go, breathing out into the hot mouth he was pressing into. He squeezed his eyes shut, closing off his mind, trying to forget who he was kissing. But suddenly his whole body was alive with sick ripples, spreading disgust and fear to his privates.
He gripped the shoulders tighter, trying to hold onto the image in his mind of a beautiful blonde bombshell, hair flowing past smooth shoulders, round pink breasts bare before him…
His hands softened, drifting down… to a bare chest. The fantasy shattered, he opened his eyes, pulling away to meet Eric’s kind, seduced gaze. He held his body tight, trying not to give himself away.
The fear that came over in Eric’s eyes gave him away. He was busted.
“We’re best mates,” he said, cutting off Eric before he could humiliate him further. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah,” said Eric, averting his eyes, suppressing a smile.
Oh god, he liked it. His heart sank.
“I’m not,” said Eric.
“I’m not sorry.”
“What, you are?” said Eric. “Have some pride.”
“I… can’t,” he growled out, rumbling from her throat. He felt it deep, deep, squeezing his heart harder, squeezing the life out of him.
Disgust, fear, anguish, breaking him apart. Falling, that’s what it felt like. No amount of sunny optimism could save him. He wiped savagely at his mouth, legs wobbling under him as he stood up, glaring down at his friend with a hatred he’d never shown before. All he saw was desire reflected back, and it just made him angrier.
“Forget it,” he spat.
“Wait!” cried Eric, getting up as he made for the door. He caught his shoulder just before the doorframe. He jerked out from Eric’s touch, turning to him with a disgust crawling in his skin, shivering with a fear that pervaded his entire body, making him a stranger in his skin.
“I hate you.”
Eric’s eyes watered, as if a needle pierced the centre. He dropped his hand. “Please.”
“Then why did you?”
“Because… I just couldn’t take it anymore.”
“You don’t have to be ashamed of your sexuality.”
“I’m not gay.”
“Sure. That’s why you kissed me.” He stepped closer, grabbing his sweater. “Please,” he repeated.
Eric kissed him, pulling him closer. “Please,” he said. “Don’t leave me this way. You don’t need to be ashamed anymore.”
“I’m not sure I know how. I mean, I’m straight.”
“No, you’re not.” Eric kissed him again, and this time he pulled him deeper and deeper. He remained stiff, following blindly as Eric led him to the bedroom.
He felt everything. That thing inside him haunted him. Led him to the bridge, led him over.
He couldn’t live this way.