Will Patrick be able to let go of what everyone thinks of him?
Pete jogged faster under falling leaves toward his boyfriend, who still hadn't turned to face him. He even seemed to be walking faster now that Pete had spoken to him. Finally catching up and breathing heavily, Pete grabbed Patrick's shoulder and tugged gently, trying to get the smaller boy to look at him.
Patrick just looked down and continued walking away from Pete, who was getting angry now.
"Patrick. What the hell is your problem!? Look at me!"
Patrick shook his head, still not facing Pete. Holding onto his schoolbooks and pulling his black hat lower over his eyes he started to run. Pete swore he could here a sob and his thoughts turned to the note that had been taped onto his locker that morning.... what if Patrick had gotten something like it? Shit.
Why did Patrick have to be so sensitive? couldn't he just shrug off the comments? Ignore the other kids? Who really gave a shit about what they thought anyway? They loved each other.....
"Patrick! Please slow down; I need to talk to you."
With relief Pete watched as Patrick slowed down and finally stopped running. He stood still on the sidewalk, waiting for Pete to catch up, his shoulders shaking slightly.
Smiling Pete walked to him, reaching a hand out towards Patrick's shoulder to turn him. Preparing a speech about self confidence for his battered boyfriend, Pete finally saw his face.
"Patrick- Trick W-What happened?" Pete's smile dropped off his face, and he stared- open mouthed at Patrick's left eye, which was swollen and purple with bruises.
Shocked, Pete reached out a gentle hand to his boyfriends cheek, gently touching the bruise on Patrick's face.
When Trick winced, Pete scowled darkly and growled, "Fuck Trick, who the hell did this to you? I'll kill them. There was no reason for anyone to hurt you."
Patrick shrugged and just kept walking "It's not much." He called softly over is shoulder. Pete fumed and snorted, That wasn't much? Half his goddamn face was purple!
Trying to keep calm, Pete walked closely behind his boyfriend for the rest of their walk down the street. When they were finally standing in front of Patrick's dark, empty house, Pete knew he couldn't leave Trick alone there. Quickly he grabbed his boyfriend's hand, and dragged him towards his own house, trying to keep a cheerful mood.
"Come on Trick! You haven't been to my house in a while and it isn't fair, my bed feels neglected."
Pete sighed in relief when Trick smiled and started walking away from his own house, turning away from it and following Pete to his own.
They had been sitting on Pete's bed for an hour. A record was playing softly from Pete's ancient stereo, and Pete himself was leaning against the headboard, with Patrick was leaning against his chest, tracing the plaid lines of the comforter with his finger.
"So Patrick, how did you get that bruise?" Pete whispered softly, kissing Patrick's eye sweetly.
"It was... it was my, my.... Pete do you SWEAR not to tell anyone? He threatened too.. too.."
"It was your stepfather wasn't it Trick?" Pete said darkly, turning his head to the wall... "That bastard."
Patrick sighed, "Yeah it was him. Turns out that Andrew wasn't just 'talk', he told my stepfather last night and..." Patrick rolled up his sleeves, showing off more scrapes and bruises, some old and faded, and some fresh. Laughing darkly he continued "It's not like this was the first time he'd ever hit me Pete, he does it whenever he feels I'm 'being queer.' My eye was just a mistake.... he went a little too far, usually he keeps it to places I can cover, where the bruises are easily hidden. God bless if anyone knew how messed up my family actually is..."
He laughed bitterly once more and kissed Pete full on the lips, wrapping his arms around his boyfriends neck. "But I love you Pete! So I'll take it. I'm not going to give in and leave you, I'm not going to give up who I am....."
Guiltily, Pete returned Patrick's kisses, glancing at the bruises on his stomach and arms as his shirt was lifted by their movements.
They were his fault.....
A few hours later, Patrick is sleeping happily in Pete's arms.
Glancing at the clock and seeing 11:57 flashing in bright font, Pete decided not to wake his boyfriend. He stares down at Patrick's sleeping face, asleep he was beautiful and untroubled, his face looked about seven years old, and his tousled hair fell over is eyes and pillow. Slowly Pete lifted his shirt once again, looking the scars and bruises over one last time, feeling like his heart was being squeezed out of his chest.
What kind of monster could do that to such an innocent boy?
With a finality, he let the shirt drop from his fingers and settled into a more comfortable position; Patrick would most defiantly not be going back to that house tonight.
So I'm back! I was gone for a long while, mix of writers block.... school, and our theatre production!! We're doing Godspell, and it's going to be AMAZING.
But anyway the story...... good, bad? I hate Patrick's stepfather :/
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