Touch me where you cut (Boyxboy) Creepy romance

Have you ever loved someone you shouldn’t—and didn’t know why? Maybe it’s because they make you feel like the only person on earth. Or maybe it’s Stockholm syndrome, but you don’t care… because even if it wasn’t, you know you’d like them anyway.

I’m about to tell you this, and before you think I’m a victim, just know… I’m okay with it. I’m okay that he threw me over his shoulder, and I’ve been here ever since. But it wasn’t always like this.

Let’s go back to the beginning.

⸻✦⸻

“Go Wildcats! Whoop, whoop! You don’t know that we have class—mess around and kick your ass!” the cheerleaders scream as I stare down at my phone.

No, I’m not a football player. They’re all six-foot-one and built. I just hand them water like a slave. But honestly? They’re nice. Not like the jocks in movies—they hate bullies. It’s like they know the stereotypes and make it their mission to prove them wrong.

Now, before you start thinking I’m ugly as fuck—**wrong!** I’m just... small. They could probably kill me by tackling me, so I’m fine just being on the team. Besides, I do like to look. Especially at Kayson Bunker. He’s so fine—well built, great ass in his football pants, that clean taper fade, and blue eyes that could kill. Too bad he’s not gay... and I already have a boyfriend. Mitch Thumpkin. He’s great. He’s just... not emotionally available.

Like, he’s nice, but he doesn’t *do* anything. He doesn’t treat me like we’re actually together. Even now, he’s sitting beside me, staring into space. But that’s fine. At least I don’t have to worry about the honeymoon phase ending early—because there wasn’t one to begin with.

I grab his hand, and he looks over, smiling softly. “You okay?”

“Mm. Just ready to get off this bus.” I lean my head back with a groan.

“I feel that. My legs are sore—and my shoulders too.” He sighs.

I grin. “Oh yeah? Want me to take care of you when we get back? You can stay the night at my place and—”

“Hey, Mitch!” Grey calls out.

And just like that, I’m back on the back burner, mid-flirt and mildly embarrassed as Mitch turns away to talk to him. I stare out the window, ready to daydream about being fucked stupid when the bus jolts, throwing everyone off balance.

The standing cheerleaders yelp and scramble for seats.

“Coach? What the fuck just happened?” Kaycee calls out.

The bus driver—Scott—the cheer coach, Coach. Chambers, and our coach, Coach Teddy, all tell us to stay put while they climb off to check things out.

“Ugh!” Chelsea groans, flipping her hair. “It’s so hot!”

“I know... my hair is totally going to frizz.” Monday slides her hands over her hair, trying to smooth it down.

I look out the window again.

We’re in the middle of nowhere—some *I-fuck-my-dad, Hills-Have-Eyes* town—and I don’t see roadside assistance coming anytime soon.

“What were you say—”

“Fuck!” I jump, whipping my head toward Mitch.

“Ha—did I scare you?” He grins.

Fuck me… he’s so cute when he smiles like that. “Uh—yeah. So anyway, did you maybe wanna come over and stay the night with me?” I ask, hoping I’ll get lucky and he won’t blow me off.

“Sorry. I can’t. My mom wants me home,” he says.

But I’ve noticed she always *needs* him when he’s not in the mood. When he *is*, she’s suddenly fine with everything. Whatever. Maybe he’s just too tired to say it. And that’s fine—he can be tired at my house. I don’t wanna pressure him.

“Alright.” I smile and lean in, kissing him. Thankfully, he deepens the kiss, and my stomach does that weird flip before settling into place.

“I’m going to walk up the road, see if there are any stores nearby,” Coach Teddy says.

“I’ll go with you,” Mitch adds, standing up.

I thought his legs were sore… but I don’t say anything. Maybe he needs to keep them moving or something. Maybe they feel tight. I don’t know.

He jogs after Coach Teddy.

Ugh—

not even a kiss goodbye.

~*~

Mitch's POV

“Why are you coming?” Seth—our coach—asks.

I stare at him, already sick of his attitude. Crossing my arms, I look down at the ground. He has no reason to be mad at me. Yeah, I’m eighteen, but *he’s* the one who broke it off because he didn’t want to get in trouble. And now he’s pissed because he’s replaceable. Or so I thought.

“I mean, what if you get lost? Or hurt? And nobody—”

“Stop—” He turns to look at me. “Stop. Why are you he—”

Before he can finish, I kiss him.

He shoves me back, and my heart starts pounding. I glare at him.

“I—” I bring my wrist to my lips, laughing bitterly. “What, you think I’m a game?” My eyes cut up at him. “The time we spent together... that meant *nothing* to you?”

“It meant... everything to me, Mitch. But come on, man, you knew it wasn’t gonna work. I’m—well, one, you know the obvious—and two, I’m really focused on my career. I just... you know?” He gives me that same tired excuse.

I roll my eyes and walk off, jaw tight. I fell for him hard. Thought dating someone else might hurt him—but I guess I was wrong.

“Plus, aren’t you dating someone?” he calls after me.

“Heh—yeah. And he’s so fuckin’ good in bed,” I grumble.

“He’s wha—”

“Fuck you!” I snap, picking up my pace.

“Mitch—” he calls again, but we both pause when a red pickup truck rumbles down the road.

“Hey! Stop!” Seth waves his arms, running ahead of me.

I let out a breath and slowly trail after him.

The truck rolls to a stop, dust kicking up behind it. Inside sit a man and two younger guys. The driver looks about fifty—one of those “ass crack out but dependable when monsters show up” types. The other two don’t look much better. The older one has the kind of face that looks like it’s *one second away* from pulling a trigger, and the younger—well, he looks like he got beat with a branch from the ugly tree.

“Hey, sorry to wave you down like this, but you don’t happen to know where a store is, do you?” Seth asks.

The man grunts. “I sure do. About eight miles back that way—by car.”

Seth groans. Eight miles. That’d take us at least two hours on foot, probably more. He’s quiet for a moment, then says, “I hate to be a burden, but do you think you could give us a lift to the store? I need to call roadside assistance. Our phones are dead and—”

“What y’all doin’ out here anyway?” the man cuts him off.

“We had an out-of-town game,” Seth explains.

I shift my weight, aware that the man’s eyes flick down to my football uniform. He looks at me, then back at Seth.

“Our bus broke down,” Seth continues, “and I’ve got a whole group of kids waiting to get home.”

The man looks thoughtful for a moment, then says, “I’ll tell you what—y’all hop in the back, the tailgate, and me and my boys here’ll take a look at your bus. We got a lotta knowledge when it comes to vehicles.”

I grab Seth’s shoulder and lean in. “Look,” I whisper, “I get that we all wanna go home, but I don’t think these guys are gonna be useful. It’s a *bus.* And from the looks of this place, I don’t think school—or buses, for that matter—even exist here.”

“Don’t be rude,” he whispers back.

No. I’m not being rude. I’m being *realistic.* These motherfuckers look like they eat people—

and I’m people.

“Yeah, if you think you can help… we don’t have many options right now,” Seth says, walking to the tailgate.

I follow.

We climb into the back and settle in. The truck lurches forward with a hard jerk. Yeah. Real convincing that they know anything about cars…

I glance at Seth, but he’s staring off at nothing, pretending not to notice me.

One day, he’s gonna see that I actually give a shit about him.

I lower my head.

~*~

Blakely's POV.

A few of the football players lay on top of the bus, sunbathing, while the rest of us normal people sit on the ground, smoking cigarettes that some of the cheerleaders had stashed away. I grab one, bring it to my lips, and inhale.

“Do you think they’ll come back soon?” Micha asks, tying his dreads into a low ponytail. He and his cousin Vic are both on the team.

“Probably not,” Grey shrugs as I pass him the cigarette. “We’ve already been on the bus a while, and I haven’t seen much…”

He’s right. We’re in the middle of nowhere.

We quickly throw the cigarette on the ground when Coach Chambers walks over, eyeing us. “Boys… smoking is bad for you. A quick way to ruin your careers.”

We don’t say anything. Then someone yells from the bus, “Truck!”

We all walk around to see a red pickup truck rolling to a stop. Coach Teddy and Mitch jump out of the back. Thank God—they found help! Maybe they have a phone or something. I walk over to Mitch and hug him. His hug is more forceful this time, a grip that tells me he needs me.

I turn my head slightly, looking at the three men in the truck. The one in the middle stares at me so hard it’s as if he can see my soul. “Uh—who are they?” I whisper to Mitch, suddenly feeling uneasy.

“Supposedly our saviors…” He doesn’t sound too excited.

The three men get out of the truck, and Mitch breaks away from me, not needing me anymore.

“Let’s take a look…” the oldest man says, walking over to the bus. He opens the hood and stares at it for a long while. “I’ve got a pickup truck at home. She’s pretty durable. We can tow y’all back to our place and go from ther—”

“Fuck no!” Mitch cuts him off, catching me off guard. I look over at him.

“Look—take us to the store, not your house!”

I glance back at the three men. They’re all staring at Mitch now.

“Well…” the oldest says—maybe he’s their dad? “I ain’t helping a bunch of ungrateful little twits. Let’s go, boys!”

They start to walk off, and the one who was staring at me earlier looks back again, making me inch closer to Mitch.

“No, please!” Coach Teddy pleads. The other coaches join in, begging the man. It doesn’t take long before he changes his mind—and Coach Teddy is already turning to Mitch, telling him to keep his mouth shut.

⸻✦⸻

The man cracks his knuckles and squints down the road like he’s reading a long, boring map. “All right. We can get her movin’. Ain’t gonna be fast, though. Keep folks inside, doors shut. Don’t stand behind her.”

Coach Teddy, Coach Chambers, and Scott make us all get on the bus.

I find a seat next to Mitch. “I think this is a mistake…” he grumbles. “Those guys give me the creeps.”

I lean my head on his shoulder. “My phone is still on—”

“Let me see.” He sits up, causing me to sit up too. I pull out my phone but hold it up between us.

“It’s a real-life cliché… no signal,” I shrug.

He huffs and leans back. “Then what was the point of telling me?”

I stare at him a beat, then look out the window. I’m not gonna take it personally. We’re all hungry and tired. We’d be home by now if this hadn’t happened. I could’ve taken a shower, lay down. My parents are probably worried sick. My stomach growls.

“Here—” Mitch pulls a granola bar from his football bag. “I took a bite, but if you want it.”

I take it slowly, smirking. “After everything we’ve done together… I don’t mind eating after you.” I wink.

He leans in and kisses me. I gently bite his lip, then lean back and take a bite of the bar. When the bus starts to move—very, very slowly—I feel a little relieved. Maybe these people can help us.

I look around and see everyone sitting quietly. They look just as uneasy as we feel, but we’re all trying to stay optimistic.

“At least we’re stuck together, Mitch,” I say, reaching for his hand.

A small smile twitches at his lips before he glances around the bus. I lean back in my seat and stare out the window.

After what feels like an eternity, we finally pull up to an old house. It looks like something straight out of *Courage the Cowardly Dog*—a crooked structure sitting in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by a junkyard of broken-down cars and rusted metal. To the right, a wide, empty field stretches into nothing. I can’t imagine what this place looks like at night… or what might be hiding in it.

“All right, folks…” the man says as we climb off the bus.

A girl steps out of the house barefoot, her long brown hair messy, wearing a tank top and shorts that look like they haven’t seen a washing machine in a while. She walks straight up to one of the guys, and he wraps her up in his arms like she’s the only thing in the world.

“This here’s my daughter, Stormie—’cause she was born during a storm,” the man says with a proud grin. “This one’s Jupiter, my youngest boy. And my eldest… well, he ain’t got a name. Couldn’t think of one, so I just call him Kid. Name’s Lee, by the way.”

Our coaches step forward and introduce themselves, referring to us as “the team.”

“Y’all come on in,” Lee says, turning toward the house.

I glance at Mitch. “I’m gonna stay outside.”

“Same,” he mutters, eyes narrowing toward the house.