FicWad

Chapter 2

~~~~~~~~

Alex smiled at his reflection as he pulled the brush through his hair. Today would be great! He headed down the stairs towards the kitchen and knew that nothing short of a natural disaster (and maybe not even that!) could spoil his good mood.

"Morning," Alex was greeted by his mother, Rosa, as he entered the kitchen, the scent of baked Alaska lingering in the air from the night before. “You’re up early for a Saturday! It's not even noon yet!" Rosa gasped in mock shock before asking, "Could it be because of that friend you’re visiting today?" she asked playfully as she poured a glass of milk and handed it to her son.

"Well, I wouldn't wanna sleep in when I have someone important to meet, now would I?" Alex smiled and gulped down half of his glass of milk.

"Good morning!" Sara sing-songed as she walked in and perched herself on the edge of the counter. Alex looked up at his sister to say good morning, causing himself to choke and spit his milk back into his cup as he caught sight of her outfit. Sara wore black stretch shorts with a blue, black, and pink mini skirt over it, red ballet shoes and a ruby stretch shirt sporting a 'Barbie will eat you while you sleep' logo.

"Well," Alex snickered as he slurped down his milk back down, earning a disgusted look from his sister. "What? It’s my own spit. Anyways, I'm off! I’ll see you all tonight!” Rosa took the cup from Alex as he headed for the door. He gave them all a backwards wave and a giant grin as the door banged shut behind him.

~~~~~~~~

‘Everything sucks,’ Kiff dripped peroxide over his knee and watched as it foamed like a rabid dog. He cringed as he wiped the liquid from the infected wound and placed a bandage over it. It hurt, but he could probably keep from limping if he didn’t walk too much.

"Kiff, get up here," Rick called from the top of the stairs.

Kiff mumbled a few choice words to himself, pulling his pant leg back down, and trudging up the basement stairs. "Good m-morning father," he mumbled as he dragged himself into the kitchen where his father sat sipping from his cup of coffee. Kiff waited by the fridge as he nervously watched his father leaf through his newspaper, as casual as if his son were not standing there as rigid as a scolded soldier. After a considerable amount of time (maybe fifteen or twenty minutes), Rick set his paper down and stared at Kiff with a bland, and bored—yet oddly appraising—expression on his face.

"I will be having company tomorrow; you're not to be around until eleven, you hear? I won’t have my friends bothered by you. If you make even one wrong move, you will wish that whore had never given birth to you," Rick paused and regarded Kiff with contempt, "Do I make myself clear?"

"Y-yes father, y-you m-make yourself p-per-perfectly c-clear," Kiff mumbled and waiting for Rick to tell him he could leave. Although it was dangerous to stay around Rick when he was finished everything he had to say, it was even more dangerous to leave before. So Kiff had learned to hover around for just that perfect amount of time that, if no orders were issued, he could scurry out with relatively minimal danger of getting punished. Unfortunately, today was going to be one of those days where Rick’s patience is thinner than usual.

"What are you staring at?! Get out!" Rick barked icily and Kiff flinched, muttering a shaky, ‘Yes sir,’ as he turned and fled the room. He grabbed his backpack and left the house through the front door.

‘Well, I might as well go and wait for Alex at the library,’ Kiff thought to himself in a slightly bitter tone as he shoved his hands into the front pockets of his baggy jeans and lowered his gaze to the cracked sidewalk.

He wondered at what the hell he was going to do tomorrow. The library was only open until nine, and it was getting cold, like it usually did in November. He was just lucky it wasn’t snowing. Canada sucked, big time. Too hot in the summer, too cold in the winter. Okay, so only the weather sucked, and only when he got caught outside in it. Kiff walked for a full half hour, cursing the books in his backpack, before he reached the library. It didn’t look like Alex was there yet. Kiff leaned against the brick wall of the public library and stared off into space, waiting for someone he wasn't even sure would show up.

At about ten after twelve Kiff glanced at his watch; ten minutes wasn't too bad, but the thought of Alex not showing sent slight disappointment and relief coursing through him, a combination of emotions he was not used to. What if Alex had only invited him there to mock him from afar? Or worse, what if he had joined forces with Mark and would show up soon and beat what he wanted out of him? The mere thought of Alex hitting him brought fear and anxiety, the usual emotions, but also sadness. It was almost like he actually expected different from him. Kiff was lost in his paranoid thoughts and failed to notice the tall blond approach him until he was standing at his elbow.

"Whatcha lookin’ at?" Alex inquired in a quiet, playful tone, watching in slight disappointment as the boy snapped from his thoughts and backed away like a scared puppy.

"I, I w-was just, th-thinking," Kiff mumbled, glancing at Alex from behind the messy curtain of his charcoal bangs. Alex was clad in an expensive looking beige, long sleeve shirt—sleeves rolled up at the elbow—a pair of loose fitting faded jeans, and beige flat soled slip on shoes. The combination was practically drool worthy, not to mention that the stretchy material of his shirt clung easily to every curve. It made Kiff’s baggy blue jeans and T-shirt-sweater combo look even more pathetic than usual.

“Well, we should get to work,” Alex chirped and headed for the library doors, Kiff following closely behind. Kiff nodded slightly to the old librarian that waved to him, recognizing him due to the amount of time he had spent in the library. She was always so chipper. Kiff wondered what her reaction would be if she found out that he didn’t spend a lot of time in the library because he liked reading, but because he was afraid to go anywhere else.

“So,” Alex started after they had found a table near the back of the nearly deserted library, “What exactly do you know about Vlad? I was going to look up some information last night on my computer, but ... I forgot,” he said sheepishly. He was hoping he could get Kiff to talk but frowned in disappointment when Kiff pulled a well worn book out of his backpack and handed it, almost hesitantly, to Alex.

“The Life Of Prince Vlad Dracula,” Alex read the title outlaid in gold as he took in the cover picture, a painted image of an impaled man, sharpened piece of wood protruding from his mouth. “Well, um, very graphic cover.

“Lets see what’s in here,” Alex pulled out a notebook and pen from his bag and began leafing through Kiff’s book.

Kiff sighed and sat quietly across the small table for about five minutes, examining the deep scratches in the surface with a long slender finger, before the other boy looked up from his notebook to ask Kiff a question.

“What does this say?” Alex asked, standing up and leaning across the table in order to show Kiff the section of the book he was currently having trouble with.

“Sighisoara,” Kiff muttered, amazingly without stuttering.

“Um, is that in Africa?” Alex raised an eyebrow questioningly as he continued to write.

“Tran-Transyl-vania,” Kiff answered quietly, hiding his amusement as he watched Alex scrawl something out on the paper. The only thing he could make out from where he was sitting was ‘Note’ and a big star. What was he writing anyway? ‘Not in Africa’?

“Isn’t that in the States?” Alex inquired. Practice and fright were the only things stopping Kiff from bursting into laughter as he tried to explain to the confused boy where Transylvania was located.

“Well, I guess I should pick up an atlas sometime, shouldn’t I? Well, I think I have all the information I can get about this. How about you take the next one?” Alex handed his notebook and the black book over to Kiff and watched as he began to write the information without even glancing at the book twice.

Alex grinned lazily as he studied the sway of Kiff’s hair as he slouched over the note book, the hunch of his shoulders, and the way he gripped his pencil wrong, supporting it with his ring finger and gripping it against his palm with index and middle. Watching all this, he didn’t even care that Kiff obviously noticed the inspection as he could see the boy fidget nervously, glancing up quickly every once and a while, and then focusing back on the paper with such a quick flicker of a glance that, after the fourth one, Alex couldn’t help but let his smile grow wider. Kiff was just too cute.

“Well hello, Kiff, Alex, I wasn’t expecting to see you two here,” a voice came from behind the stacks to the right of the two boys, breaking the silence that had fallen over them as they had worked (or more like Kiff had worked and Alex had drooled over him).

“What would Tina say if she knew you were cheating on her with The fairy?” Mark asked casually despite the split lip he was sporting as he approached their table, “I never though that you would have such low standards; you’re rich, you can afford better than this.” Kiff raised his head up with a slight jerk, only far enough that he could see Mark through his bangs. His pencil stilled on the page and he froze, squeaking pathetically as Mark slid a hand under his chin and forced his face up for better inspection. He made a feeble attempt to pull back and got a warning squeeze to the flesh so tenderly close to his neck.

“Hmm, well now that I look, I think I can see what you see in him. Such a wide mouth can always be useful.”

“That’s enough! Get your hands off of him, what I do and who I do it with is of no business to either you OR Tina,” Alex hissed at Mark and glanced around. The section of the library they were occupying was mostly deserted but for a couple in the far corner making out, and a boy near the door passed out on his books. Mark’s lackeys were no where to be seen. Alex took a deep breath and stood up, “Get your hands off of him, and leave us alone.”

“Protective are we? And what if I don’t? Are you going to ... make me?” Mark squeezed Kiff’s jaw harshly, pulling up so that Kiff was forced to lift himself from his seat lest his head be forced too far back. This action had Kiff whimpering as his injured knee pressed slightly into the table.

Having achieved getting Kiff to show some form of submission that satisfied his deranged outlook on life, he dropped him back down to focus his attention on Alex. He opened his mouth to speak but promptly shut it.

“Is there a problem here?” a voice cut in and Alex turned in relief to look at the speaker that had walked up from between the stacks whilst they were occupied in their confrontation. ‘Oh thank God!’ Alex could have shouted in joy; he really didn’t want to fight Mark here. ‘If Kiff got hurt—who the hell does Mark think—if he ever touches Kiff again I’ll break his fingers!’ Alex’s thoughts swirled around in a confusing jumble as he fumed.

“No ma’am,” Mark said politely to the aged librarian in a falsely sweet tone, “I was just leaving ... walk home safely, Kiff,” Mark brushed past the librarian and stalked through the doors, almost looking dejected.

“God that guy pisses me off,” Alex huffed one the old woman had left. He sat back down with a loud sigh, “Are you alright? Kiff?” Alex asked the silent boy, who had kept his head as low as possible after having it wrenched back to reveal his face from under his protective curtain of hair.

“I, I’m s-sorry, I-I-I h-have t-to go,” Kiff stuttered and, shoving his books into his bag, stood up and headed for the door. Alex followed quickly behind, not even bothering to pack his notebook into his bag but just holding it in his hand instead.

“Wait, Kiff, stop a second—are you alright—are you leaving because of Mark—you’re not mad at me are you?” Alex rambled in concern as he fell instep with Kiff, keeping pace with him as they headed down the sidewalk.

“I, I’m s-sorry, I have t-to, g-get ho-me,” Kiff mumbled, staring at his shoes as he walked.

“Well, I can walk you if you like?”

“N-No th-thank you,” Kiff quickened his pace, not sure if he was trying to get away from Alex, or trying to piss him off. Either one would be good. ‘Although, pissing him off might end up more painful. He IS really big.’

“Ok, well, I’ll see you at school,” Alex muttered and watched Kiff walk the rest of the way down the street and turn the corner.

“God, I’m an idiot!” Alex barked at nothing, ignoring the odd looks he got as he kicked a light post. “Fuck.” Alex had thought it had been going so well, and now he was standing alone on the street while the other walked home by himself, with Mark still out there. He felt horrible letting Kiff walk home alone, but, what could he do?

‘Okay, it was only one day ... and as a bonus, at least I know something that Kiff is interested in.’ Alex sighed, shoved his hands into his pockets and headed for home.


~~~~~~~~


The next day Kiff sat on a chair in the library staring in front of himself in the direction of the table, his eyes focused on nothing. He was sitting at the same table he and Alex had used the other day, a random book open in front of him, pages melting in front of his eyes. He was so zoned out that he had sat at the table for three hours, and barely read at all. Barely moved an inch. Yet he couldn’t remember the time passing, and before he knew it, It was nine and the library was closing. He had to find somewhere else to go until eleven.

It wasn’t all that cold out yet, so he decided to just go to the park like he usually did. Kiff stood up and moved for the door, nodding to the old librarian as he pulled his sweater tighter around himself. Sure, it wasn’t cold, but it wasn’t all that warm either. Or, maybe he was just addicted to heat?

He dreading the cold months, and being early November, they should have been on them already. It was bound to snow any day now. And it would be worse, especially if the snow got deep, him only owning a pair of beaten up sneakers.

Kiff walked briskly through the streets, barely even taking note of where he was going, the route so familiar and the art of avoiding being smacked into so ingrained in his mind it was as easy as breathing ... most of the time. There was the occasional time when he accidentally face bashed someone’s chest. And got shoved into the wall for it.

It was annoying not having a place to go. Well, one that didn’t run on a schedule.

Time.

Everything was always timed. He couldn’t be here until this time, couldn’t be there after that time. And what about the time in between? A job? Yeah right! And what if Rick wanted him home while he was supposed to be working? Plus, who would hire him? He would just screw things up or something. Maybe he could find somewhere to volunteer. Kiff sighed lightly and rubbed his temples as he entered the park, heading straight for the small, useless, seven foot long bridge, and sat himself down.

He liked this place. It never closed, and the trees never told him when he could or couldn’t show up; they didn’t care. That was funny. The place he felt the most welcome was somewhere where nothing cared if he showed up or not! Maybe it was because there were always so few people? Yes, that was probably it. People equalled bad. Plain and simple ... well, maybe not all people. His mother hadn’t been bad! And Alex wasn’t ... no, Alex was bad. He had to be. ‘Damn it!’ Kiff leaned against the rusted railing still attached to an old stone bridge, squeezing his eyes shut in frustration.

Why couldn’t Alex just go away? He kept showing up. All the time, at all hours of the day and night, the blond hair and wide smile stuck in his thoughts. Where he most definitely wasn’t welcome. Alex was nice, sweet, with his blond hair and green eyes. But there was no telling what Alex wanted. His motives weren’t on display for Kiff, and it frightened him, not knowing what to expect.

Kiff sighed as the frigid wind whipped past his hair and found its way into his large black sweater, chilling his sensitive nipples and tummy. The remnants of an ancient stream trickled over the dirt and pebble bottom bellow the bridge, one fast and deep enough to warrant the construction of a small bridge, now dwindled by the recent growth of suburban homes all around. He drooped his eyes half mast and let himself get lost in the sluggish current not a few feet bellow.

The surrounding area was dark, veteran trees tall and looming all around, separating the muddy area from the concrete labyrinths surrounding for miles on each side. A forgotten world that had once dominated with its calm, steady lethargy. Now abruptly devastated and, as the ignorant saw it, tamed. A lot of people—grown adults included—would have been frightened, but not Kiff. Kiff wasn’t afraid of most things. Yet, the things he wasn’t afraid of could turn into the things he dreaded the most.

He wasn’t afraid of the dark, and he wasn’t afraid of being alone. But, the thought of living his entire life that way sent a shiver up his spine. He loved sitting out in the park, surrounded by the nearly pitch black night, frigid air, and the closest thing to silence he had ever heard—an absence of human voices to listen too and track. But, even as he sat there, he felt as if he would give up the silence to feel arms around him that weren’t trying to keep him still, a voice close to him that wasn’t threatening, that wasn’t meant for anyone else to hear.

He was sixteen, nearly seventeen, and he had never truly realised until now that he had wanted those things. It surrounded him like the viscous darkness of him own home at night and chilled him like the cool touch of a whisky bottle. His mouth ran dry and he knew that it was useless.

Kiff woke a few hours latter to the beeping of his watch and pulled his eyes open groggily. Giving his head a slight shake, he pressed the button to make the numbers glow. He could head back now, but didn’t really wanted to. He would have liked it just fine to stay where he was. It wasn’t like he was apposed to sleeping in the dirt. He had done that before when he had run away, and would have continued to do just that but had been found out and punished. So, he guessed it was better to go back to where it was dry and get hurt, than to be out in the cold and get hurt. At least this way he knew he wasn’t going to get any diseases.

Kiff pulled himself from the ground, shut off his watch, and headed home, his walk mostly a blur as he ran over the possibility of actually making it somewhere safe if he were to run again. He deemed it unlikely the minute his hand touched the knob on the front door to his house. He closed the door softly behind him, the handle hot against his cold hand.

Safe? Did such a thing exist in a world like this? A world where people got away with murder, rape, practically prostituting their children to their bosses. No, there probably wasn’t a safe place in the entire fucked up place called earth. It was all an illusion. ‘Maybe I wouldn’t mind being deluded?’

Where were these thoughts coming from? Escape was a subject best avoided, and delusions of safety were what created pain to begin with. Kiff sighed as he slipped of his sneakers and turned to move through the dark living room.

“Kiff. There’s someone I would like you to meet,” Rick came out of the kitchen and leaned against the entry way, grinning.

‘Oh no. No fucking way, not possible.’ Kiff wanted to run, but his feet were glued to the floor as an average height man, with average brown hair, and dull, average blue eyes came stalking out of the kitchen and towards Kiff, who could only just stare at the floor as a hand was run through his hair.

“Alright, Rick, I think I can talk to Richard about the promo you’ve been lookin’ for,” the slightly chubby man said, acting as if he were talking about nothing more sinister than the weather.

“That’s good to hear Matt. Spare bedroom is the second door on the right, have fun, I’ll be back in an hour,” Rick slipped his shoes on as Matt picked up a duffle bag from the floor and nudged Kiff towards the bedroom. He moved to follow but stumbled to a stop when Rick grabbed his wrist, thumb pressing into the tender skin of his wrist. “You hit him in the face, break anything, or threaten his life, I swear to God I’ll kill you.” With this said, Rick released the man and ruffled Kiff’s hair. “Be a good boy.”

‘A good boy? So, lying there and doing nothing makes me good?’ Kiff barely noticed anything that was happening as he was led into the spare bedroom and stripped of clothing. He retreated into his mind and even held out his wrists docilely when Matt pulled out a pair of handcuffs. He could tell that the man was laughing as the cuffs slipped shut, he could feel the lace panties and garters as they were slipped on, he could feel the hands that pushed him around and positioned him. He could even tell that there was flash photography involved, but, he wasn’t really there, he didn’t really notice any of it any more than if it were nothing more than a distant dream, slipping in and out.

Kiff blinked away some of the fog as he was lifted from what ever position he had ended up in last and strips of clothing were removed from him. The garter and panties had been removed long ago and replaced with something new, but he hadn’t noticed, he also didn’t know when his lips had been glossed or his nails painted. But he didn’t care when that had happened as Rick came in, patted him on the head, and told him to leave.

“You’ve been a good boy.”

~~~~~~~~

Kiff walked through the school halls, keeping his head bent as his eyes darted everywhere, watching everything and everyone as he kept an eye out for the blond. He had done a good job avoiding him outside of class so far, and had even completely boycotted Gym class to give his nerves a break. Plus, it didn’t help that his left leg was almost completely purple. He didn’t really want to explain that one. Assuming anyone asked.

‘Oops, not that way!’ Kiff ducked back out of the hall he had just stepped into as he spotted the impossibly tall blond. He hurried back in the opposite direction and really wished that the hallway he was in branched off sooner than it did. But, unfortunately, the hall was shaped like a figure eight (supposedly to keep students from getting lost, but that backfired since everything looked the same and most teenagers had absolutely no sense of direction) and didn’t really diverge from the one main artery.

“Kiff!”

‘Damn, I’m usually faster than this!’ Kiff pulled to a stop as Alex caught up to him, grinning. Kiff studied the smile for a moment and couldn’t find anything in particular to hate about it. A smile with this blond seemed to be a permanent attachment. Kiff wasn’t sure if it ever left his face. Lips stretched out and upward even when he talked, as if he didn’t realise he was smiling, or couldn’t stop. Teeth, aligned with a slight gap right of his eye teeth, flashing, his tongue seeming to sit, ready to flash into speech at every moment. Kiff bit his lip as he focussed on Alex’s mouth, watching every twitch as he began to speak.

“I was wondering if you wanted to get together to finish our project? We’re almost done ... so one more night should do it to polish everything off for the presentation.”

Presentation. Kiff shook his head a little too quickly to look natural and crossed his arms over his chest, eyes darting around the floor.

“I-I’m s-sorry. I have th-things to d-do.” Kiff shook his head some more, locking his troat lest he produce one of the odd keening noises he seemed to be so found of when worried.

“Right now? Not even a half hour?” Alex raised his eyebrows and Kiff just shook his head once again. “Oh ... well, what about after classes? Did you just get here? You weren’t in History ... are you going to Third?” Kiff stared at the floor. He should have just stayed in the basement. His father wasn’t home, so he could have practiced with the flute stashed under his bed. He would have preferred it if Rick hadn’t gotten rid of the piano that had once been in the living room, but there was nothing he could have done about that. Rick had just gotten sick and tired of coming home to find that things weren’t done properly and, even if he rarely found Kiff doing do, he said it was all because of him wasting time on the piano.

It had been a beautiful one too, not the best, but expensive nonetheless. He could remember many a times when he had sat on his mother’s lap while she played and taught him the notes. He had been playing things like ‘Moonlight Sonata’ before he could even read sheet music.

“I-I-I-I—s-sorry! I have t-to go!” and with that, Kiff left, leaving a frowning blond behind to watch him disappear around a corner.

It was a horrible thing to do, run away like that. Alex was the only person he had spoken to in too long that possibly didn’t hate him and he was afraid of him. Fleeing.

If Alex didn’t hate him, he might even like him. The one thing he couldn’t finger out was ‘why’ Alex would like him.
‘Oh great. Someone doesn’t hate me, and I’m scared to death of them.’ The humour of this fell like dead weight in Kiff’s stomach.


~~~~~~~~

Kiff’s thoughts were calm as he washed the dishes, wiping a cloth over frosted glass. A door down the hall pushed open in the sudden and forceful manner that Rick was so fond of and the cup slipped from his hands, shattering on the floor at his feet. He cringed with a startled squeak and dropped to his knees where he began to shakily pick up the pieces of glass and place them in his palm.

“God! Can’t you do anything right?” Rick barked as he entered the kitchen and found Kiff on his knees, daintily picking up the pieces of the broken glass. Kiff tried his hardest to ignore the gaze on his ass as he continued to mutely pick up the mess. “Maybe I should rub your nose in it to teach you a lesson.” Rick laughed and stuck his foot on Kiff’s back, pushing him into the mess.

Kiff whimpered and gasped as he felt the glass bite into his hands, blood making his palms slippery against the floor as he supported himself on his hands and knees, trying to keep his face out of the mess. Thankfully Rick removed his foot quickly enough and Kiff was able to limit the damage to his palms and forearms. He grit his teeth, his tongue in an attempt to remain quiet.

“I’m leaving for business on Tuesday, I’ll be gone two weeks and I expect the house to be in perfect condition when I get back. And don’t worry, if anything happens, Chris will be just down the street. He has keys to the house, so don’t worry about letting him in,” Rick said with a sneer hidden in his voice and walked away from Kiff, grabbed a beer from the fridge, and headed for his bedroom.

Kiff sat back on his hunches and held his hands out in front of him, shaking as tears slithered down his cheeks. Slowly he picked himself off the floor and numbly finished picking up the glass scattered over the floor. He tossed the glittering shards into the garbage and quickly finished off the last two dishes. Done this, he heading down the stairs and into his own washroom, intent on cleaning up. He yanked open the cupboard aover the sink and it squeaked excessively on old, unoiled hinges. He pulled out a bottle of disinfectant with trembling fingers and moved the two feet that was needed to take him to the tub, where he perched himself daintily on the edge.

He bit his lower lip as he pulled the first sliver of glass from the meaty part of his palm, thinking about how lucky he was that none of the cuts were too deep; it was doubtful that there would be any permanent harm apart form a few minor marks that would more than likely disappear within a year. Although, he would have to be extra careful to hide his hands; Rick hated it when people asked questions. And what would—no, he wasn’t going to care what Alex would say. He doubted he would ever speak to him again after the project was done.

‘Especially with how horribly I treat him.’ Kiff let his aching lower lip slide from his teeth as he firmly wrapped a not-so-clean-but-good-enough-for-now bandage around each arm, most of the glass cleaned out. He could check again later and make sure he got it all, but for right now he still had a couple things left to do in the kitchen. And he also had homework to do–yet, somehow he doubted he would get it done.