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Blake & Ben (A New Beginning) - Chapter 6 - Let Me In

Date: 3/2/2016, Categories: Fiction, Gay, Teen Male / Teen Male, Author: StudioXPS, Rating: 75.9, Source: sexstories.com

doorway and watch him as he walks down the sidewalk and out into the street. About twenty paces into his walk, he spins around and looks back at me. He motions for me to shut the door and to go talk to my mother. I can't help it, I just want to watch him until I can't see him anymore. But, I do as instructed, I close the door and turn around to face my mother. She's still in the kitchen, standing by the sink. She hears me approach and turns around, tears streaming down her cheeks. One of the hardest things for a son to see is their mother cry. Even though it has been pretty emotional the past few minutes, that's not why I start crying. I start crying because I'm afraid. Not just of my father, but my mother as well. It's one thing to have one parent say, "He's not my son." But, to have the other one remain silent, not saying anything to you? I can't take it. I want Ben back here. I need someone to hold me right now because I feel like I'm slipping away. My mother eyes my busted lip and must sense my vulnerability, because she takes three big strides and grabs ahold of me, pulling me into her motherly embrace. Well, if this isn't some kind of scene from an ABC Family sitcom, I don't know what is. Still, I can't help it, I lose it and pour my sadness, my rage and my fear onto her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Mom. I'm so sorry. Just, please, tell me I'm still your son," I plead with her. She pulls away, grabbing me by the face. "Of course you are, Blake Abel. How could you say ... something like that? You'll always be my baby boy, no matter what. I don't care if you're gay. Besides, Ben seems like a very nice boy," she says. "Dad didn't seem to think so," I say, calming down a little bit. "Oh, honey, I'm so sorry your dad reacted that way. I think... I think this is it. I told him if he ever laid a hand on you again, we were through. He's not going to lay hands on you ever again, not if I have anything to do about it." Truth was, I could care less about him laying hands on me. Tonight wasn't the first time he's laid hands on me since breaking my arm twelve years ago. He's slapped me upside the head numerous times and berated me after football games. "You didn't take the open lane your offensive line made for you," he'd say. "I can't believe you let that linebacker strip the ball from you like that. How many times have I told you, ball security is your number one priority!" *** Around midnight that night, I decide to go for a walk. The house is dark and quiet. Dad never came back home. As glad as I am about that, I still blame myself. By the way my mother talked earlier tonight, she's going to meet with a lawyer later this week to file for divorce. No matter how much I apologized and asked her to reconsider, she assured me it wasn't my fault. She said their relationship has been on slippery slope for the past few years, but tonight was the straw that broke the camel's back. I want to believe her, but I still feel like it's all my fault. I step outside the front ...