Chapter 8

His low, hoarse voice trembled violently.

Unable to believe it even after calling his name, Alex flinched belatedly. He prayed for no response. The darkness blanketing the room pressed down heavily upon him, strangling his throat.

“Yeah.”

Nathan answered his call.

His voice was exactly the same as always.

That terrified him even more.

The room was too dark to see Nathan’s expression clearly.

His mind went utterly white. Did he see? He must have. That’s why he asked that question. Even though he was sitting on the bed, he felt like he was plummeting.

“W-Why, are you, here…”

Damn it. His voice trembled so badly he couldn’t form the words properly. Swallowing the tears threatening to spill, Alex forced himself to continue.

“No, I mean, I-I’m sorry.”

His voice broke. The fishy scent grew increasingly pungent, making bile rise in his throat. He prayed it wasn’t true. He prayed Nathan hadn’t just witnessed that disgraceful display. But life had always taken pleasure in ruthlessly crushing his hopes, and—

“What are you sorry for? For masturbating while calling my name?”

—this moment was no different.

Hearing his situation laid bare in such a stark sentence inflicted a torment so excruciating Alex wanted to die. Getting caught masturbating by the person he liked was bad enough, but he had been caught moaning his name. It was a situation where he rightfully deserved to be cursed out as a sick fuck, and he wouldn’t be surprised if rumors spread tomorrow.

His sanity plummeted to rock bottom. His hands shook uncontrollably. Unable to even wipe off the cloudy fluid staining his hand, he yanked his violently trembling arm back, hiding it out of sight. Soiling the clothes he borrowed from Nathan, tainting the bed with his scent, every single aspect of it was so repulsive he couldn’t bear it. His body was still running a fever, but it held no sway over him in this horrific moment.

He wanted to run away.

A frigid silence descended. Alex repeatedly opened and closed his mouth. Cold sweat dripped from his forehead and pooled at his chin. He had to say something. Even if Nathan didn’t believe him, he had to make an excuse.

But seriously, why was this happening? Why the hell did he pull a stunt like this in Nathan’s house? He wanted to grab himself by the collar and scream.

“Well…”

He barely managed to squeeze out a single word. Nathan didn’t curse or yell; he just stood there. Exactly as he was, staring at Alex through the half-open door.

His paralyzed brain desperately wrung out a thought. The realization he had right before Nathan entered barely flickered across his mind. He had thought it felt like going into heat. Panting, Alex forced himself to patch together a semblance of logic. If so, then perhaps… this was a rut.

Usually beginning as early as fifteen, or mostly around sixteen, he had never experienced a rut before. His father had insulted it, calling him a slow-witted retard, while failing to explain exactly what it entailed. He merely tossed around a tasteless joke about having an omega partner ready when the day came. What did they say in school about handling this? He couldn’t recall a single thing.

“I think… my rut started.”

He couldn’t even gauge how pathetic that sounded. He probably looked like a complete idiot who didn’t even know when his own heat was hitting. As that thought crossed his mind, he remembered what the school nurse had said. The first rut doesn’t arrive on a set schedule, so seek help from your parents when it happens. Even after the first rut, some people don’t have a regular cycle, so they must always be careful. Back then, he had merely thought, That sounds like a massive pain in the ass, and brushed it off.

“Your rut?”

Alex nodded before belatedly opening his mouth. “Yeah. M-My rut, I mean, I’ve had a fever all day today, so…”

It was utterly impossible to construct a sentence with proper syntax.

“But you still came over to my house to hang out in that condition?”

Nathan’s tone was flat. Yet, every time he heard those calmly stated facts, it felt like his insides were being shredded. Nathan was right. If he had a fever and felt unwell, he should have gone home immediately. He got greedy for no reason and ruined everything. He was the biggest idiot in the world.

“I’m sorry.”

It’s my fault. His voice was so small it was barely a whisper. Nathan remained silent for several seconds before speaking again.

“I heard you calling my name from the hallway, so I came in to check if you were sick.”

That was it. With those words, Nathan said no more. A sigh drifted through the air, and Nathan stepped back.

“We’ll talk tomorrow.”

The door clicked shut. Without realizing it, Alex jolted forward to grab him, only to collapse back onto the bed. His mind was blank. Unable to believe the events that had transpired in the span of a few minutes, Alex sat still, wondering if this was just a nightmare.

He brought his hidden right hand forward. The sticky fluid coating his palm and fingers had grown cold. The moment he saw it, nausea surged violently. Shooting to his feet, Alex threw open the door and bolted for the bathroom. Dry-heaving over the sink, he scrubbed his hands so hard the skin nearly peeled off.

Nathan had said they would talk tomorrow, but Alex lacked the courage to face him. He decided it was impossible to stay there until morning.

After washing his face, he headed straight back to the room. He hurriedly packed his things and shoved the borrowed pants into his duffel bag. The sheets were drenched in sweat, but thankfully, there were no dirty stains. Forcing down the urge to cry, Alex quietly slipped out into the hallway and padded down the stairs with silent steps. After carefully opening and closing the front door to avoid making a sound, he broke into a desperate run, fleeing into the night.

☂