Jock Next Bed (BL)
Chapter 206: Help me not hurt you

Chapter 206: Help me not hurt you

Chris wasn’t sure how to explain this to not cause problems. He was beginning to learn more about Sky, but not sure how much Sky was willing to let go in terms of his jealous tendencies.

Chris’s cheeks turned redder. "I—I’m just used to being the one holding... others. Girls." He quickly clarified. For some reason, he felt that Sky would have less trouble with girls than with guys considering what just happened with Liam.

But boy, was he wrong!

Sky went still.

Then his eyes darkened, fury and something uglier rising fast. "So that’s it?"

"Sky—"

"Do you prefer girls over me?" he demanded, eyes glittering with something raw and dangerous.

Okay? So maybe being honest was a bad idea. "No." He answered.

Sky’s stare sharpened, his breath coming fast now—uneven and tight like he was trying to hold something in.

Chris saw it.

That flicker behind his eyes. The start of a storm.

Sky let go of him and stepped away. Chris stood up immediately.

"You are used to girls," Sky murmured, almost too calmly.

"No."

Sky took a step forward. "But you just said you were used to it. That you’re not used to being touched. Like that. By... me."

"That’s not what I—"

"Do you not think it’s too late to prefer girls?" Sky cut in, his voice trembling—not from fear, but from how close he was to unraveling. "You think you can just say stuff like that and I’ll what? Let it slide?"

"I don’t prefer girls," Chris said, firmly this time. "I don’t. That’s not how I feel."

But Sky wasn’t listening. Not really.

He was back to pacing again, one hand dragging through his hair, the other clenching and unclenching like he didn’t trust what it might do next.

"You kissed me. I kissed you. We touched. We held each other. And now you’re here telling me you’re used to touching girls?" His voice cracked mid-sentence, twisted and sharp. "What the fuck am I supposed to do with that, Chris?"

Chris didn’t answer. He didn’t know how to.

Sky looked at him then, wild and dangerous. Like he wanted to do something reckless. Like he wanted to grab him, shove him against the wall, and demand answers with his hands if words wouldn’t work.

His fingers twitched.

He took a half step forward—and stopped. His jaw locked. His entire body tensed like he was physically holding himself back, straining against instinct.

Chris was watching it all.

He didn’t even move when Sky approached him with a dark gaze.

And then—finally—Sky reached out, but instead of grabbing Chris roughly, he... cupped his cheeks. Gentle. Shaking.

His thumbs trembled against Chris’s skin.

"It’s too late, Chris," he said, voice barely above a whisper. "Even if you regret it now. Even if you suddenly decide you want something easier... it’s too late."

Chris’s just continued to watch him carefully. Was this possessiveness? Obsession? He had never had someone this intense with him. For him. It felt so new and strange.

Sky’s eyes searched his like he was drowning. "You can’t take it back. You can’t undo what this is. I let you in. All the way in. So if you back out now—if you start thinking this was just curiosity or something—I’ll lose it."

"Sky—"

"I’m serious," he whispered, leaning in close. "I need you to help me cooperate. Help me calm down. Help me not do something—say something—I’ll regret. Because if you look at me one more time like you’re afraid to be touched by me, I won’t be able to stop myself from—"

He cut himself off.

Chris’s breath hitched. "From what?"

Sky didn’t answer.

His grip tightened, just a little. Still gentle. Still trembling. His face twisted like he was at war with himself. Jealousy, want, pain, and love—ugly, terrifying love—mixing in his expression.

"Just... help me," he whispered, almost broken. "Help me not hurt you. Or anyone. I don’t want to hurt you. If I ever do, I’ll—"

Chris leaned in without a word, brushing his lips against Sky’s in a kiss that was less about heat and more about grounding. About saying ’It’s okay.’

His hand was warm against Sky’s cheek, steadying him.

Sky’s breath hitched, his body stiff at first—but Chris kissed him again. Slower. Softer. Until Sky’s lashes fluttered and he melted into it, tension bleeding out of his shoulders.

Between kisses, Chris murmured, "Do you take meds?"

Sky froze.

His lips hovered close, almost touching, but he didn’t move. Didn’t even breathe.

Chris kissed him again, coaxing. Reassuring. "Sky."

"...Yes," Sky whispered, the word caught between their mouths.

Chris didn’t let go. He kissed him once more, slower this time, gentler. "Do they work?"

Sky hesitated.

And then, so softly it hurt, he whispered, "Not anymore."

Chris’s heart cracked a little. He could feel the way Sky was barely holding it together, like a wire pulled too tight. He wanted to ask why they weren’t working, but he didn’t. He had a strong feeling he might somehow be related to it. Or maybe he was just being delusional and thinking he was that important.

He exhaled and brought one of Sky’s hands down, guiding it to his waist. Sky’s fingers hovered there like he didn’t trust himself to touch.

Chris held his gaze, biting back a small smile. "Just this once," he said, voice a whisper, a little playful, a little coaxing.

Sky blinked at him.

Then, slowly, a smile bloomed on his face—small, tentative, but real. His dimple deepened like it always did when he tried not to grin but failed.

And then, without warning, Sky pulled Chris into a hug.

It wasn’t gentle. It was sudden, firm, and real, and Chris let out a surprised little noise against Sky’s shoulder, his arms instinctively wrapping around him.

"You’re ridiculous," Chris mumbled, burying his face against Sky’s neck, but he wasn’t pulling away.

Sky said nothing.

He just held him.

And for a moment, everything else fell away—medication, spiraling thoughts, jealousy, regret. None of it mattered. Not when they were like this.

Just two people clinging to the one thing that made sense in the chaos.

"Would you like to meet my parents?" Chris whispered, breaking the silence.