Under the Texas Sky

CHAPTER 19

Kian

Why the hell did I say that? Trent’s always been self-conscious about things like that, and it wasn’t the first time I’ve said it to him. Both times in anger. And I regretted it immediately after.

But why the hell did he not see this STI thing as a big deal?

The apartment is quiet, way too quiet. Whispers of doubt, failure, and regret are ringing in my ears, and I need to run away. I need to escape this hell before I perish in it.

I can’t go to Mitch’s though, for obvious reasons. Because I know that’s exactly where Trent went. Mitch has always been there for Trent. I don’t always understand their bond, but they’re closer than me and Mitch. And I don’t blame Mitch.

Trent is an easy person to love. Once you can get through his hard exterior, he is human sunshine. He’ll do whatever it takes to help out, until his issues get to be too much and he clams up.

I’m the one who can’t hold on to any kind of friendship or relationship–other than with Trent. I’m the disposable one. The sunny disposition that everyone can count on to brighten their day, but it’s nothing more than surface level interactions.

And look where that gets me. Holding on to my anger until it becomes too much, and I end up acting out. Trent is always the one who gets stuck with it.

The walls are closing in on me.

What should I do?

How do I escape?

Run. It’s what you’re best at when you’re scared.

The voice in my head might have a point. I do tend to run away and deflect when something hurts me.

I want to lock myself away, to go to an alternate universe where today didn’t happen. Where I don’t have oral gonorrhea, I didn’t call Trent dumb, and instead, we laid on the couch with my head in his lap while he ran his fingers through my hair.

Social media is always a way to forget. Mindlessly scrolling, watching everyone’s lives pass me by while my own crumbles into microscopical and irreparable pieces.

I stare at the bright white screen until my eyes hurt and there’s a dull thudding in the back of my head. I can’t wait until this infection is completely gone so I can go back to feeling normal.

My fingers stop when I come across the same sponsored ad as I did in the bathroom at the doctor’s office a few days ago. A blond man, shirtless, flexing his chest muscles. Very nicely defined chest muscles. He looks like an AI generated image. The caption says, “The link everyone wants b!0” I click on his page, where there are countless other shirtless pics.

He’s attractive. That’s not a bad thing to say, is it? I’ve never looked at another man before Trent, but something about this guy has me clicking on the link in his bio, pulling up the blue and white page again.

OnlyFans.

It says subscribe, and it’s only $4.99. My interest is piqued even more. The number of videos and media at the top has me wondering how this works. He just posts videos of him jerking his dick every day? That seems excessive.

I exit out of it and quickly google what kind of content goes on OnlyFans. The answers range, so it seems more like a fan-based site, rather than an all out porn site. That’s reassuring. Maybe this guy just posts shirtless pictures and his workout routines.

Getting back onto the app, my finger hovers over the subscribe button. If it ends up being something I’m not interested in, I can always cancel. I mean, I’ll be out five dollars, which will be annoying, since I don’t know exactly what I’m signing up for. But curiosity killed the cat, and in this situation, I’m the cat.

Well, here goes nothing. I click subscribe and put in my card information with shaky fingers. This is all fine. It’s normal to wonder.

The page refreshes, and I’m hit with a myriad of dick pictures. No, seriously. How many different ways can a guy take pictures of his dick?

I can’t look away.

I want to, at least some part of me does. But another part of me is forcing me to keep my eyes on the images. They start to blur together, the tanned skin of the man’s thighs in contrast to the white of his groin area, and his red, engorged cock.

It’s not turning me on. In fact, it’s doing the opposite.

A video camera in the bottom of one of the thumbnails clues me in that it’s a video. Maybe this will be something interesting.

I click on the center play button, watching as the man positions the camera and walks back to the bed. There’s another guy sitting there with his back facing the camera. The shirt he’s wearing kind of looks like the screen printed one that Trent loves to wear when he’s lazing around the house.

My dick gives a pathetic throb in my pants. No matter how exhausted I am or how mad I am at Trent, of course he can always get a reaction out of my dick.

The blond man bends over, capturing the other guy's mouth in a violently passionate kiss. The moans and groans resound through the speaker of my phone. They’re so… into it. Maybe I can see the appeal of OnlyFans, seeing the connection between two people.

The owner of the OnlyFans, James, if his username is anything to go by, turns the other guy around. Finally showing his face to the camera.

My world stops. My phone slips from my hand, and I cover my ears with my hands, trying to block out the sounds of the two of them together. Wishing there was a way to turn back time and to never have done this to myself.

Because the other guy…

Is Trent.