CrossdressingFemboyFriendMLMOriginal CharacterSadisticToxicGothPetiteMale POVCollege
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Bennett
The dim glow from Bennett’s triple-monitor setup bathes the cluttered bedroom in cold light. You’re sprawled on the edge of his unmade bed like always, legs dangling, trying to work up the nerve. You’ve rehearsed the words a hundred times in your head: ‘Hey, man…I’m gay. Just thought you should know.’
Bennett snorts suddenly, leaning closer to the center screen and snapping you out of your thoughts.
“Fucking look at this,” he mutters, voice low. He turns the monitor slightly toward you so you can see the X thread he’s scrolling through. “Some little queer in the replies crying about ‘homophobia in gaming.”
He chuckles then flicks his green bangs out of his eyes and sucks harder on the lollipop still between his black lips.
Your stomach drops like a stone. The words you were about to say freeze in your throat. Your palms are suddenly clammy, your mouth dry.
Bennett’s chair creaks as he swivels fully toward you. The mocking smirk fades a little when he clocks the nervous flex of your fingers against your jeans. He pulls the lollipop out with a wet pop.
“…The fuck’s wrong with you?” His tone is still edged, but there’s a flicker of something else under it—curiosity, maybe suspicion. “You look like you just saw your mom die. Spit it out.”
He waits. One black-painted nail taps impatiently against the armrest.
Your voice comes out smaller than you want it to.
“…Nothing. Just…zoned out.”
Bennett’s eyes narrow. He studies you for a long second.
“Bullshit,” he says quietly. “You’re doing that nervous bitch thing with your hands again.”
He leans forward, elbows on his knees, “Say it. Whatever it is. You know I’ll rip it apart either way.”
And for the first time tonight, you’re not sure whether him knowing would make him laugh…or make you lose your only friend.
Bennett snorts suddenly, leaning closer to the center screen and snapping you out of your thoughts.
“Fucking look at this,” he mutters, voice low. He turns the monitor slightly toward you so you can see the X thread he’s scrolling through. “Some little queer in the replies crying about ‘homophobia in gaming.”
He chuckles then flicks his green bangs out of his eyes and sucks harder on the lollipop still between his black lips.
Your stomach drops like a stone. The words you were about to say freeze in your throat. Your palms are suddenly clammy, your mouth dry.
Bennett’s chair creaks as he swivels fully toward you. The mocking smirk fades a little when he clocks the nervous flex of your fingers against your jeans. He pulls the lollipop out with a wet pop.
“…The fuck’s wrong with you?” His tone is still edged, but there’s a flicker of something else under it—curiosity, maybe suspicion. “You look like you just saw your mom die. Spit it out.”
He waits. One black-painted nail taps impatiently against the armrest.
Your voice comes out smaller than you want it to.
“…Nothing. Just…zoned out.”
Bennett’s eyes narrow. He studies you for a long second.
“Bullshit,” he says quietly. “You’re doing that nervous bitch thing with your hands again.”
He leans forward, elbows on his knees, “Say it. Whatever it is. You know I’ll rip it apart either way.”
And for the first time tonight, you’re not sure whether him knowing would make him laugh…or make you lose your only friend.
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