Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Waking up for another day of school, he looked himself in the mirror. Regret. The scars on his face, neck, all of that made him frightened of facing his school colleagues that already didn't like him, so imagine if they saw what he's got after the summer break? He was sure his last year was going to be a living hell.

— Sweetie, come down stairs or you'll be late! — Tom's mother yelled from the kitchen.

He quickly puts his shirt and his hoodie on heading the stairs when he remembers his pants and goes back to the room, even quicker putting on them.

— Thomas! — He heard his mother once again.

— Wait a sec! — he said, buckling his belt.

Once he steps inside the kitchen, he gives his mother a kiss on the cheek and a light hug.

— Morning, sweetheart — his mother said, also giving him a kiss on the cheek. — Ready for the last first day? — she asked with a smile that showed all her youth and happiness, that made the boy think.

Would he ever be like her? Be as happy as her? Would he find someone who could love him just for who he is, leaving his scars with no matter at all once loving him? Like any teenager, he didn't think so.

His mind told him one last time: you've ruined your life. All of that because of what? Because some people called you a faggot and your father agreed? Very sissy of you. He couldn't stop those thoughts that filled him with anger. He clenched his fist to concentrate all his madness in that little action that left his knuckles white.

— I should be — he said in a chuckle, grabbing a toast and walking to the table.

All he could think until he arrived at the school was about how he was a loser. He kissed a girl, and ended up both him and her were gay, and kissing a dude is not an option as all he could remember once thinking about exploring his sexuality was how his father felt shame for him that night. Maybe he felt shame for himself too, a loser that turned his best friend gay after kissing her.

And all he could think once he stepped in the school was about how he was loser. He grabbed the keys of his uncle's motorcycle and thought everything would be alright. Good. Amazing. Had to deal with those scars for the whole summer and now I'll deal with bullying for having them. He thought to himself as he tensely walked to his first class with his hoodie covering his head.

He relaxed for a bit as he noticed no one really cared. Everyone was so worried with their own problems that no one had eyes for his visible one. Good. Amazing. Now all I have to do is go unnoticed for a whole year. He shook his head. No! It's gonna be fine, optimism.

He entered the class, found his seat, grabbed his things, put them on the table and the teacher entered the door, beginning the class. For a few minutes, he thought everything was gonna be fine this year and he smiled at the thought. Too bad it didn't last for long.

— Thomas, could you take your hoodie off?

He got petrified at the request.

— I don't think that's possible, Mr. Jonhson.

The teacher sighed.

— Take your hoodie off or else you're out of this class.

— My mother sent a letter to the principal explaining why I have to use it!

— Look, boy, your face could be slashed, I don't care! Just take that damn hoodie off, no one is going to laugh at your acne.

With hesitation, he looked down while taking the hoodie off. The action revealed Tom's scarred face, which made Mr. Johnson jump out of surprise but soon went on with his subject. Which everyone would have understood if the students didn't decide to stare at Tom with a blank face every three minutes.

— How did you get them? — he heard a female voice beside him.

— What? — Tom asked, absolutely confused.

— Those scars — she whispered. — How did you get them?

— Motorcycle accident — he mumbled and ignored all the other things she asked.

— You have a motorcycle? How was it? Did it hurt too much?

He was getting uncomfortable with this many questions, but gladly a few guys shushed her down to talk to him. Not gladly at all, he noticed after one of them said:

— A motorcycle accident, Tom?

The scarred teenager shivered, he didn't like where this interaction was leading.

— Didn't know you were that cool, everybody thought you were a nerd. Tell us, how was that accident?

— None of your business — Tom mumbled.

— Oh, come on! We're trying to help you out here — he poked Tom with his elbow. — Do you know how many chicks you can pull with your looks and a cool story?

— I don't care, leave me alone.

— Not into girls? There's always a faggot begging for dick somewhere, like the blueberry over there — he pointed to a guy with blue hair taking notes in the back of the class.

— I don't think it's nice to talk about someone like that.

— Come on, help me to help you, buddy — he whispered, poking him again.

— Leave both me and him the fuck alone — he said a little too loud while pushing the colleague away from him, making the student fall from his chair.

— Thomas — the teacher called him. — To the principal's office.

— But-

— Now.

He sighed and put his hoodie on again, which Mr. Johnson didn't complain about this time.

— You're very lucky I'm the one in charge today — principal Marcus said, opening a drawer of his desk and getting a piece of paper. — I know your year has been tough, so I won't suspend you like I usually would, alright? I'll just give you a warning letter that you have to bring with one of your parent's signs to prove that they are aware of the situation, okay?

Tom nodded and the principal smiled while dismissing him and wishing him a good day, which Tom doubted would happen to himself this year.

Once the morning classes were over, he went to the line of the school cafeteria. He grabbed a platter and that's when he heard a familiar female voice:

— Your scars…

He turned around to where he heard the polish accent to see his best friend, Gabby. Yes, the one he turned gay.

— They're not that bad, you know?

He sighed and chuckled.

— Yeah, I've heard that.

— So… — they walked on the line. — Got anyone in your mind? You seem distracted — she said in a suggestive tone and he laughed in response. — Any… — she went closer. — Blue-haired guy — she whispered, chuckling.

— What?! — He said absolutely alarmed.

— I Heard you defended him from some idiots at Mr. Johnson's class.

He sighed once again.

— Because it was the right thing to do. You have no idea the things they said about him, it was not right.

— Hm…I still think your paths are going to cruise someday — she said, still giggling.

He also giggled, but only to take himself away from the subject of the conversation.

— But how about you? Anyone in mind?

— Oh, yeah, she's amazing!

— I won't get a name?

— Only when it becomes official, then I'll tell you everything.

He chuckled, but suddenly stopped.

— Have you ever wished you weren't…different?

— Well, I guess in the beginning. No one is born able to choose who they are or who they love, so I think it's something you just have to accept about yourself.

He looked down at his platter.

Acception. It wasn't a word that lived in his vocabulary. Maybe ignoring or hoping he wakes up and it's gone fits better for him. He didn't accept his scars, he didn't accept his sexuality and it is both things that will stay with him for the rest of his life. It was his choice to accept himself, but he was not ready for that choice yet.

— How about you? — Gabby asked after a long monologue that lasted until they were already with their lunch and out of the line.

— I…I'll eat in the library. Bye, Gabs — he said, avoiding her question and heading straight to the hallway that led to the enormous library.

He put his bag on the floor and put the platter on the library table when he heard the voice of the librarian greeting him.

— Oh, hello, Tom! — She said, walking to one of the corridors to replace books. — What are you doing here? Where is your friend Gabby?

— Uh, she's lunching too, but I think she's eating with her new girlfriend — he chuckled.

Miriam was a great ally, she supported quite a few of the queer students.

— Oh, that's amazing to hear, dear — it was when she said that that Tom noticed a shadow behind him. — Hello, Jake, how are you doing? — She greeted the teenager behind Tom.

— Oh, I'm doing amazing, Miriam, how about you? How's the family?

— Oh, I'm doing just great. I'm a bit worried about my son, though. He just broke up with his boyfriend and is very sad. That's why I'll bake a cheesecake for him in a few weeks! I have everything planned already. My husband will take him out to the mall while I prepare everything. I always knew that his boyfriend was not a good guy for him, but you kids always bet on the wrong guy, don't you? — She said winking at Jake, who just chuckled in response.

Tom heard everything in silence as he ate his food at an incredible pace to help Miriam with the books once he's done. Right when he was asking, Jake said at the same time as him:

— Do you want help with the books?

Miriam just chuckled and nodded.

— That would be lovely.

And there they were, placing books on the shelfs according to their classifications. Jake in a big stair and Tom standing on the floor as he handed him books while they talked.

— I heard what you said in the first class.

Tom looked at him distracted.

— What?

— I said that I heard how you defended me in the first class. Thanks for that — he smiled at Tom. — But I don't think that will be good for your reputation in this school full of mean girls football players.

Tom chuckled.

— I don't mind, it's already ruined with those scars anyways. I like to help.

— Well, I'm not a princess in distress, sweet soldier. I don't need protection.

Tom blushed and looked away. Did he just call me “sweet soldier”? Was that a flirt? He couldn't tell so he decided to say whatever was in his mind.

— No, I suppose you're not. You're a prince very able to protect yourself, so I ask myself, why would you let them talk about you like that?

— Why would it matter?

— Because it's not nice at all having people saying that you're a faggot or saying that you're begging for dick.

Jake sniffed.

— One day they'll get tired of it and it won't be funny anymore. And anyway, why would I confront them? Why should I get in a fight with people as low as them? It's not worth it, so I just leave it like that. But how about you, why would you let people ask so much about your scars as if it's not too personal to share with random strangers?

— I- — he stopped himself. — Maybe it's the same reason, I guess.

— See? It's not like it's too different. The difference is that your difficulty is your scars, mine is my sexuality.

— Well, we are not too different at all.

Jake raised an eyebrow but decided not to ask what he meant by that.

The next few days didn't change much. Tom talked to Gabby, went straight to the library and helped Miriam along with Jake. They even went to each other's house for a few days to search for their chemistry class.

Handing his mom the warning letter, she asked for an explanation.

— Some guys were bullying this other dude and I just defended him! Mr. Johnson was the one who misinterpreted the situation.

She sighed the note.

— And what did they say for you to get this mad?

He sighed and crossed his arms.

— They were…

— They were what, Thomas? I swear to God, that if you don't give me a good explanation, I'll take your videogame for an entire month.

— They were saying terrible things about him directly to me, so I just told them to back off and pushed him away from me.

She sighed.

— What did they say about the other boy?

— They- — he looked at her with his face blank out of fear. — They called him a faggot and said another thing related to that, but it's very bad, so I don't feel like I should tell you.

She looked at him with an understanding look.

— It's fine, but I do want to know what they said.

— I- — he took a deep breath. — Can I write it down?

— Sure.

Once she read what they said she just looked disappointed at the paper.

— The kids these days.

— Yeah — he nodded looking at the ground. — I'm doing this chemistry research with a friend, so I'm going to his house after school if that's okay.

She gave him a reassuring smile.

— Sure. Be home before it gets dark.

Tom entered Jake's house to finish they're chemistry research.

— Thank God it's almost over! — He said while stretching his back.

— Oh, you want to get me off your ass this bad?

Tom laughed.

— I'm just tired of talking about chemistry.

Jake laughed in response.

— Yeah? Wanna talk about another kind of chemistry?

Tom didn't seem to understand Jake's flirting, so he just pretended he didn't say anything.

With laughter, smiles and terribly made flirts, they finally finished their research. Jake got two soda cans and brought them to the deck in the yard, handing one of them to Tom.

— Finally over — the scarred boy said, leaning on his elbows in the banister and opening the can with a clack.

— Finally — Jake answered while looking at the nightfall and also leaning on his elbows in the banister of the deck.

Tom turned around to look at Jake and say something, but he soon forgets what it was that he wanted to say once he saw Jake's hair and eyes and skin and face being lightened by the sunset. The vision took his breath away, he saw himself leaning closer and closer until Jake turned his head to him and their lips were suddenly dancing with each other in a tender and calm kiss.

It felt so good and familiar before the memories of the night of his accident turned into flashes in his mind and tears escaped from his eyelids.

“My son is a faggot!” He remembered his father saying and throwing a glass bottle on the wall near his mother.

“Stop!” He remembered his mother yell when his father grabbed her wrist to take her outside.

Then he remembered throwing himself against his father, pinning him on the floor and preparing himself to punch him in the face when he saw a glimpse of love in his eyes and cried. Cried and grabbed the keys of his uncle's motorcycle. The air in his face, drying his tears as he increased the speed more and more, then a loud sound and a hospital room.

He pushed Jake away from him, making the blue-haired crash himself against the wall of the house. He groaned as he felt his back hit against the dark wood.

— What the fuck!

Tom looked at him like he'd seen a ghost.

— I… I have to go — he went inside, grabbed his backpack and walked in the direction of the door.

— Tom, wait!

Tom didn't stop and Jake grabbed his arm when they were passing through the kitchen.

— Hey, what's wrong?

— I- — Tom's eyes were filled with tears and guilt. — I- — he looked deep in Jake's eyes.

With a little bit of hesitation, Jake leaned into him and once again they kissed. That one was a little different as Jake's hands kept Tom in place by his shirt and Tom's hands grabbed Jake's hair near to hurting.

They parted from the kiss and Tom slowly got his hands out of Jake's hair as he even slower opened his eyes. Getting Jake's hand out of his chest, he turned around and walked out of the house after opening the door.

Jake frowned and followed him.

— What's your problem? You kissed me! You didn't like it? — He shouted to Tom, who was in the middle of the street.

— I- — he turned around and looked at Jake. — It's hard, okay?! I'm not ready for this! I can't, I… — more tears rolled his skin.

Jake looked at the dark end of the street.

— Tom, watch out!

The scarred one cleaned his face from the tears.

— What?

— Watch out — Jake repeated but now running to Tom and throwing himself on him as a truck passed in front of Jake's house, right where Tom was.

Tom noticed the truck before they began to roll in a shore and fall in a park.

— Jake! — Tom said as he stood up from the floor and ran to him, sitting beside him.

The blue-haired boy groaned.

— Thank God, you're good — he whispered in relief.

With a disapproving grunt, Jake also stood up and walked to where he knew was the exit of the park, leaving Tom confused on the floor.

Chapter Text

Days and days avoiding him at school and ignoring his calls.

— Sweetheart, there's a friend of yours on the phone, he says he wants to talk to you — his mother said from the kitchen.

— It's the wrong number — he replied playing on his PlayStation in the living room.

— He said your name.

— Tell him that I'm busy then.

She huffed.

— I'm sorry, dear, but he's busy — he heard his mother mumble on the phone.

He sighed in relief.

— It's the fourth time he calls, sweetie, when are you going to answer him? What did that poor boy do to you?

— It's the seventh and it's complicated.

She raised an eyebrow and rolled her eyes.

But the ghosting season of course couldn't last longer. One night, when Tom's parents went out for the weekend to get his brother back from the internal school in another state, he heard the telephone ring. Expecting it to be his parents saying that they forgot the keys, he answered in a joking tone.

— Forgot something?

“Tom” a whisper.

A familiar whisper, in fact. So familiar that he could’ve said he loved that whisper. He missed that whisper.

“Tom” the owner of the voice sounded scared. “Y-you have to help me. There-there's someone in my house.”

— Jake? — Tom asked, completely confused.

“There's someone here, please, come help me. I-I've tried calling the police, but they said that I was being paranoid! Please, please, please. You have to come here.” In the middle of his monologue, he began crying and quietly sobbing on the phone.

— I-

“Please” he sobbed once more.

— Where are you?

“Hiding in the kitchen” he managed to mumble. “I'm scared, Tom. Please.”

— Is there anyone else with you?

“I'm home alone. My parents went on a business trip and my sister is at a sleepover.”

— I'm coming. Don't worry, okay? Just be safe and hide. I- — he took a deep breath. — I'm coming soon, okay? Is there anything else you have to tell me?

“I heard yelling at the yard! It's hard to tell, but I think I know who is here. It's four guys. I heard them breaking things and throwing things at the walls outside. They're calling for me! Telling me to show up or else there will be consequences. I have no idea what is gonna happen if they find me, but I don't want to know. I'm scared” he sobbed.

Tom doesn't remember hanging the phone, or entering his car, but something he does remember is arriving at Jake's house and hearing screams and yells of help, and laughters.

— Please! Please, don't do this to me — he heard Jake beg voiceless.

— Hm, what would you do for us not to?

— Yeah, what would you do, Jakey?

— We're curious, what do you think we'll do to you?

Tom didn't want to guess. A bliss of anger filled his heart and he followed the threatening words.

— Don't you dare touch him — he shouted firmly.

One guy turned around to look at him, they were masked.

— You're masked? Cowards, that's what you are. Four cowards that can't deal with the consequences of their own decisions.

Another one turned around and laughed in his face.

— Look who's here, Robin — he said, grabbing Jake's hair and pulling his head to look at Tom. — Batman came to the rescue.

Jake didn't look at him, he just kept his eyes shut as his hands were tied to his back.

— Please — he begged breathlessly.

Jake was beaten, he could tell. Seeing him like this just made Tom’s eyes be filled with so much anger that basically blinded him as he ran to the guy holding Jake's hair and jumped onto him just like he's done with his own father. The difference is that, this time, he didn't hold back. Blood stained his shirt and loud yells came out of his mouth as he fought, punched and kicked at the four guys and was punched and kicked back by them.

One of them disappeared. Then another one. And another one until the remaining gave Tom a punch in the face and ran away. All of that as Jake crawled on the floor trying to stand up and run back inside the house with his hands tied to his back.

— Hey! Jake! — Tom said as he ran to the blue-haired boy and held him in place while untying his hands. — They're gone! They're gone! Don't worry! — He kept saying in an attempt to calm him down but all Jake did was look horrified at the tree on the other side of the yard.

— W-wha-what — he stuttered. — What were they going to do? — Jake said shakenly.

Tom frowned and looked at him, both confused and concerned.

— What do you mean?

Jake didn't answer so the other boy had to follow his eyes to the…rope hanging on the tree. A rope. He didn't have much time to think as his own body responded to the sight by getting in the way between Jake and the tree.

— Don't look at that, look at me, alright?

Jake still looked horrified.

— What were they gonna do? — he asked quietly.

— They're gone! It doesn't matter anymore, they're not going to do whatever they planned. Look at me — he repeated.

— They're gone — he said, finally looking Tom in the eyes.

— Yeah. They're gone, okay?

— They're gone. — He nodded with his head. — You got… You got rid of them…

Tom weakly smiled before Jake buried his face in his neck, hugging him. Not knowing what to do with his hands, Tom just placed them in the blue hair underneath his chin and let himself get lost in the addicting scent of the watermelon shampoo.

He had felt something missing other than Jake's presence in the few days away. He had never noticed the smell of Jake's shampoo, that same scent that filled every room Jake entered. He asks himself how he had never noticed. How did he let it get past him? Unconsciously, he missed the smell, the same way he consciously missed the warmth of Jake's fingers meeting his when they accidentally touched while they were storing books in the library. Like he consciously and guilty looked at him from the other side of the room when they studied chemistry and felt bad for having this feeling inside his heart but couldn't help falling for him even harder when they walked to Jake's house and Jake would pull up hid middle finger whenever the same asshole from school passed by in his car calling them slurs. All he could do was feel the warm tears fall down his cheeks to his chin and Jake's warm arms wrapping around his waist as he nudged even closer.

— I missed you — Jake mumbled in the other's chest.

The words felt like a punch in his chest that took all his breath away.

— let's go inside so I can clean all this mess, huh? — Tom asked in a whisper.

Jake nodded with his head.

— Do you think you can stand up? — He had this caring voice that unconsciously took over his body and said things by itself.

Jake sniffed and tried getting up from the floor holding Tom's shoulder for balance. He was shaking, Tom noticed as he also began standing up. His breathing became apparent as he shakenly got up from his knees and fell on Tom's arms.

— Hey! Hey, hey, hey — Tom said as he catched him.

— I-

— I'll carry you, alright? It's going to be a better solution — he mumbled with a kiss on top of Jake's head just to get lost in the scent for a few more seconds.

After bringing him inside the house, he placed Jake on the couch and caressed his hand.

— Rest a little, okay? — he whispered. — I'll make something for you to eat and I'll be right back.

Tom was about to walk towards where he knew was the kitchen when Jake grabbed his wrist.

— Don't leave me alone again — he mumbled harshly.

Tom looked at him. Just the thought of leaving him was unbearable to stand. Seeing Jake in the state he was put in was heartbreaking and hurting for him; just as hurting as the accident, he could say. But now, Jake believing he would leave him again? Pleading him not to leave him? It made him want to get to his knees and apologize.

— I- — He said, pointing to the kitchen, still a little afraid of what to say.

— Please — he cried. — Stay.

Tom nodded with no hesitation and they were soon cuddling on the couch. He smelled the hair in front of him for as long as he could before he felt his eyelids get heavier by the second.

He opened his eyes abruptly and, carefully, put Jake leaned on the sofa while trying to stand up without disturbing the other's sleep. He sneaked into the kitchen and took a look at the pictures pinned to the freezer door. There was a photo of Jake as a kid, he changed a lot, and a red-haired kid that he couldn’t quite figure out who was, it felt like their face was blurred. He kept on doing what he was supposed to, he grabbed bread, cheese, ham, grilled the cheese and the ham on a frying pan, put the bread, cut in two slices, on their side to warm it up and soon built a sandwich and put it in a plate. Tom got orange juice in a cup and walked toward the living room with the cup and plate in hands.

After placing it on the side table next to the couch, he tried his best to wake Jake up so he'd eat something. The other boy groaned in disapproval for having his sleep disturbed.

— You should eat something — he whispered. — I made you a sandwich.

Jake opened his eyes and nodded with his head, eating happily and without any complaint. Once he finished, Tom asked Jake if there was any hospital nearby and he nodded once again instructing him on its localization.

— I think you should take a shower to calm down a little, huh?

Jake soonly nodded and tried to stand up but soon fell back on the sofa.

— I'll get you upstairs, how about that?

— Okay, but I don't want to be alone.

— What do you mean?

— Stay with me, I don't want to be alone.

Tom frowned but nodded to whatever that meant and helped the other boy walk upstairs to his bathroom. He placed Jake carefully sitting on the edge of the bathtub. Turning on the faucet, he looked at Jake with a question in his eyes: What do you want me to do now?

Weirdly, he felt the answer from nowhere

Help him shower, dumbass!

Like a magic trick, the bathtub was full of water and Jake's figure was inside it, resting his back on the wall of the bathtub as Tom tied his hair up. He helped him shower, helped him out of the bathtub and helped him dress. Wasting no time, he led Jake to the car and they went to the hospital Jake told him about.

They arrived and as soon as they entered the building he was pushing Jake in a wheelchair. All the people around them looked uncomfortable and watched Tom's steps carefully and judgingly.

— Sir, what happened to you? — A nurse that was weirdly similar to his mother asked Jake in the wheelchair.

Jake didn't answer, so Tom decided to reply:

— He was beaten up by goons that invaded his house.

— And you are…?

— His friend.

The woman raised an eyebrow.

— I will take care of him — she said as another nurse came out of nowhere. — My colleague will talk to you while I help your friend out.

The nurse looked so much like Jake it scared him. He didn't look exactly like him, but similar enough for him to see the man as an older version of Jake. Similar enough to be a sibling.

They went to a corridor.

— Did you do that to him?

He jumped out of surprise with the question.

— No! What the fuck? I would never do that to him!

— There are a lot of cases like that, Tom. What happened then if it wasn't you?

— Cases like that? I've said it! There were goons in his house.

— Are you sure it wasn't a jealous, possessive boyfriend being aggressive?

— What are you talking about? I'm not his boyfriend!

— But you wish you were.

Tom gasped.

— Just promise me you won't hurt Jake.

Tom frowned. What the fuck is happening? How does he know Jake's name? How does he know my name? He thought as he realized how weird the whole conversation was.

— Who are you? — the boy asked the nurse.

The man frowned, seeming angry and Tom breathed in heavily, as if he was drowning, as he opened his eyes realizing he was still on Jake's sofa, cuddling Jake.

His forehead was sweaty and his heartbeat was fast as he tried to calm down from the sudden awakening. I shouldn't have slept. He thought as he tried to stand up without bothering Jake, who just groaned in pain for his bruises.

He went to the kitchen and saw a few photos pinned to the door of the fridge. The same from his dream but now he could actually see the little girl next to Jake. Seeing her didn't mean recognising as he questioned himself who that was, assuming it was the sister he talked so much about.

He opened the door of the fridge and raised his eyebrows as far as they could reach when he noticed that the only thing inside it was a half drank beer and a jar of water.

— That's definitely not what I was expecting. — He grabbed the water and looked for a cup.

Tom walked back to the living room to see Jake sitting on the couch, his elbows finding support in his knees while supporting in his hands his face that was turned to the door of the backyard.

— Jake? — he called.

He turned to him with a mumble.

— I got you some water — he said as he handed the cup to the other boy, who looked at it and grabbed it with a nod.

— Thanks — Jake took a sip from the cup.

— I think I should get you to a hospital, do you know if there's any close to your house?

Jake's expression soon turned into fear.

— I'm not going to any hospital.

— What? — Tom frowned. — Why not? Jake, they had beaten the shit out of you back then, we need to get you help — he said as he reached near and kneeled in front of him.

Jake looked at him frightened.

— No hospital.

Tom nodded, noticing that he couldn’t insist.

— I get you to my house then, what about that? My mom is a nurse, I can get you the nearest to medical care outside of a hospital we can get.

— No, I really don't want to bother. I'll be fine, you've already done so much. I shouldn't have even asked for you to stay. I'm very grateful for what you've done, but I really think you should go.

Tom denied.

— No! There's no bother, I really want to help you, Jake. My parents are out if you're frightened of someone finding out all of that.

Jake seemed to wonder about the offer.

— I really don't want to bother.

— You won't — he replied back with no delay and grabbed his free hand. — I really want to help you — he said as he placed a kiss on his hand.

— I- — Jake looked at him with guilty eyes. — Okay.

Tom smiled.

— How about you take a shower before you go so you feel a little better?

— That's a good idea — Jake whispered as he tried and failed to stand up.

— I can help you — Tom said in a hurry to grab Jake's forearm and help him stand up but the other boy just pulled his arm to himself landing once again on the sofa.

— I can stand up on my own, thank you. — He said in such a mad manner that Tom even wondered if it had been a good idea trying to help him.

Jake stood up with his legs clearly shaking and limped to the stairs.

— Are you sure?

— Yes — Jake replied, almost cutting him off, as he put his left foot into the first step.

In the last step, he almost fell off the stairs if it wasn't for the worried boy following on his feet who held him by his back before he could fall.

The two remained silent and kept on walking to Jake's room and Tom almost followed him to the bathroom before Jake would put a hand in his chest and push him backwards, seeming to be mad at him.

Tom heard the shower being turned on and, every two minutes since, Jake asked if Tom was there. He said he'd never leave and Jake asked again if he was there.

— How about that, I'll keep knocking on the door. Just so you know I'm here.

Jake agreed with a grunt and Tom started knocking the door in a steady rhythm.

He heard a loud sound a few seconds after the shower was turned off.

— Jake, are you okay? — Of course he was worried, who wouldn't be?

— I'm fine! I just- slipped in some water, I-

Tom tried to open the door but Jake closed it shut by kicking it with his feet.

— Don't come in!

— Then get up! — He knew Jake couldn't, he was too injured.

And a few muffled noises came from the bathroom before Tom went to Jake's closet, grabbed a towel, went back to the bathroom door, opened it and threw the towel on Jake on the floor while looking at the ceiling.

— Hey! — Jake said before Tom got him in his arms with his eyes closed, afraid to make Jake mad or uncomfortable, and walked back to the bedroom, throwing him on his bed and turning around.

— I'm sorry, okay? I just thought that it'd be better that way, you were naked on the cold floor and you're hurt! It's literally the worst place for someone hurt to be, right?

Jake chuckled half-heartedly.

— Thank you, I guess.

He heard the bed cracking, Jake was probably getting up and walking towards his closet, as his steps announced.

Once Tom turned to him he saw him wearing a sweatshirt and sweatpants. His hair was messy but yet framed his face in an angelic way, a thin lock making a barely visible path from his pinkish cheekbones to his swollen red lips.

Jake seemed to notice him staring for a little too long.

— It's cold outside, you know? Don't be a bitch.

— No! I'm not! I just… I think you look pretty. That's it.

He didn't reply, all he did was frown and follow Tom as he led him nervously to his car.

— Look, I'm… — Jake paused. — I'm very grateful for what you're doing.

He smiled, but didn't reply.

— But I don't think that's necessary. Really, I-

— You're hurt, Jake.

The other boy just remained silent. And for the rest of the ride, both were silent.

Tom helped Jake in his feet as they walked towards Tom's doorway. Once they reached it and Tom opened it, they got startled by the scene they witnessed.

Tom's mother had her arms crossed right in front of the door as she looked angrily at her son, who had his arm around Jake's waist to help him stand straight.

— What are you doing here? — He asked.

— A better question is: what were you not doing here? We called a hundred times… And — She turned to look at Jake. — what is this boy doing here with you and what happened to you both?!

Tom gulped and looked at Jake.

— Look, mom, I really can explain, but we need to help him first.

She glanced at him and nodded tiredly.

He waited in the living room as his mother took care of Jake in his bedroom. His right leg was trembling as he ended letting his anxiety loom over him.

— Here. — His dad tried to hand him a package of ice; he couldn't look him in the eyes to tell if he was mad, proud, or just being his dad.

— I'm fine. — He cracked his fingers.

— Your fist is swollen.

He looked at it; it was in fact swollen.

— The ice will help.

— It doesn't hurt.

— Put the ice, Thomas.

Tom looked at the floor and accepted the ice, putting it in his swollen fist.

— Do you know how worried we got? We even called the neighbor! She said she saw you getting out with your car.

It felt like there was a gut in his throat making it hurt too much to talk.

— Are you not gonna say anything?

What was he supposed to say anyway? That he was sorry? He wasn't! He was not sorry. He would never be sorry about helping Jake. He would do anything for Jake. Anything but face his dad.

— Tom, can you come upstairs? — He heard his mother say from his room and did as he was told, after placing the ice package in the kitchen sink, not even looking at his father in the eyes.

Sitting beside Jake in his bed eagerly, he looked at his mother with a gulp, waiting for her to ask whatever she wanted to know.

— What happened?

— Well, he… called. Four guys broke in, he-

— I talked to John already about that, but he can't remember what happened after the second punch.

John?

Tom raised an eyebrow and turned to look at Jake, but decided to not go against him.

— I came in and they started to-

— Attack you.

— I mean…

He recalled what he's done.

— I attacked one of them… But Ja- — He remembered how his mom called Jake. — John was a total wreck, I just had to!

— You did the best thing you could. I'm proud of you, really. Do you have any… wounds?

Tom gasped at the sudden realisation that he in fact felt pain. He felt points in his chest hurting, in his hands, arms and legs, but he was too busy to worry.

— Uhm- No. I'm fine. My, uhm… fists hurt a little though, but dad gave me ice to put in it while you two were here.

She gave him a little smile as a response.

— I have to talk to your father. You two will be alright?

He nodded.

She turned to Jake.

— So you're staying over, right?

— Would you let me? — Jake asked.

She answered with a chuckle.

— Oh, but of course! You're Tom's friend, and I'm sure he'll understand lending you his bed.

Tom's eyebrows jumped up.

— Uh, what?

— You heard me. Help your friend out, okay?

His mother was trying to ground him for sneaking out?

— Where am I going to sleep?

— Well, there is a couch downstairs, or you can sleep on the floor. You can choose. — She gave Tom a little kiss on his temple before standing up. — Good night, and take a shower before bed.

He agreed with an embarrassed smile.

She placed a hand on Jake's knee and squeezed it.

— Good night, John.

Then she walked out of the room, leaving Tom and Jake alone.

An uncomfortable silence set itself in the room, but it didn't take long for Jake to break it.

— You can take the bed. It's yours. I don't want to… — He didn't seem to be able to finish his sentence.

— No. My mom is right. Take the bed. I'll get some duvets, I can sleep on the floor.

— Take the bed, Tom.

Tom chuckled, stood up and walked to his closet; grabbing cushions, duvets and a towel. He walked back near the bed and threw it all next to it, except from the towel.

— No. And if I come back and you're sleeping on the floor, know that I won't hesitate in picking you up and throwing you in the bed.

Jake chuckled in response, probably startled or surprised; but Tom didn't mind it, he just turned around and walked out of the room, heading to the bathroom at the end of the hallway.

He closed the door behind him and sighed.

Why would Jake make up a fake name to his mom? He can trust her! That’s Tom's mom!

He took off all his clothes, throwing it in the basket beside the sink and behind the door, and entered the shower box, turning on the shower and starting to soap himself while he took in his day.

The dudes that broke into the house… Jake said he knew them, but Tom couldn't recognise them so they for sure weren't from their school as he previously thought when Jake called.

He jumped, startled, as he heard four knocks on the door.

— Don't take long, Tommy, mom said I have to shower too! — He heard his younger brother, Tony, say from the other side of the door.

He completely forgot he was supposed to come back from the internal school for a few weeks of school break.

— I'm getting out!

He quickly dried himself with his towel before noticing he didn't pick up his pajamas or any underwear, which meant he would have to go back to the bedroom and come back before his brother went to the bathroom.

Wrapping his towel around his waist, Tom walked the fastest he could towards his door but couldn't manage to get past his brother, a Superman comic in his hand.

— What the fuck is that?

Tom looked at him with wide eyes.

— Language, Tony! My God, you're a kid.

— What the fuck happened to you, Tommy?

No. No, no one told Tony what happened during summer. No, no one planned on telling him. Yes, Tom expected that to be his exact reaction. And, yes, he understood why no one told him anything. Tony was just a kid. There were no words near to explain what happened to his older brother and why it happened.

— Accident.

— Gosh, nobody tells me anything in this house! — he yelled as he slammed the door of his room.

Tom kept his fast way to his own room and barely opened his door, sneaking an eye in.

— Jake — he whispered and the boy turned to him from the tiny balcony of his room. — Could you turn around? And close your eyes?

He chuckled.

— What? Are you naked behind there?

He gulped and he wiggled his head as he pondered what was happening.

— Kind of.

Jake immediately turned around to face the dark night outside as Tom rapidly ran to his closet to grab his underwear, and to his bed to grab his pajamas from underneath his pillow.

He ran back to the bathroom to find his brother pretending to shave his face and his chest; pretending being the keyword as he had no such thing as hair in his eleven-years-old body.

— What are you doing? — Tom asked as he closed the door behind him with his free hand.

— Don't tell dad I'm using his shaving cream! — The shaving cream was in fact dripping from his chin and jaw as his face was covered with it from his cheekbones to his neck and chest, looking more like Santa Claus’ beard.

Tom raised an eyebrow, demanding an explanation.

— This boy in school said that his beard is growing! And that his dad taught him how to shave it.

— How old is that boy?

— Ten

— Well, he is a damn liar. Now go take a shower before mom can smell your stink downstairs.

— But he does! I swear he does!

— Tony, it doesn't matter if he does.

— But that means he's growing! I want to grow too! I want to be tall like you so no one will mess with me again.

Tom frowned.

— There's someone messing with you?

— Uhm- No.

— Tony.

Tony pressed his upper lip against his bottom lip forming a straight line in his mouth.

— The beard boy. He says I'm short and weak. He makes all the other boys pretend I don't even exist. It's annoying.

Tom sighed. He had no idea what to do. He wanted to help his little brother. For God's sake, Tom was his older brother, he was supposed to protect him!

— I wish I could do something for you, buddy. — He said as he kneeled in one knee to be in similar height as Tony, ending maybe fourteen inches shorter than him, and placing his hands on the little boy's elbows after putting his clothes on top of the sink. — But all I can do is say that I love you, okay? It doesn't matter what these kids say to you.

— Do you have many friends?

— Gabby, I suppose.

They haven't talked in a while; a long while.

— Is it because you're both gay?

Tom felt like he got punched right in the stomach.

— Who told you that?

— I heard dad saying something like that. — It took him a while to continue. — Is it true? Are you gay? — he whispered.

Tom couldn't understand what his brother was saying; how he was saying it like that, so easily.

— What does that word mean to you, Tony?

Tony looked at him like it was obvious.

— It means happy! I saw it in a book.

Tom exhaled a breath he didn't even know he was holding.

— Well, of course! Gabby and I are really happy people!

— But there's… — He started looking at the door for a slight moment but stopped himself at the last minute.

— There's what?

He looked at him then looked away.

— Nothing.

Tom opened the cabinet beneath the sink and took a towel, using it to gently clean the shaving cream from Tony's cheekbones.

— You're a kid, Tony.

— I don't want to be a kid. I want to be grown.

He thought about cracking a joke about how grown-ups don't get Hot-Wheels Tracks for Christmas, but decided to let the joke slide from him at the moment; his brother was fragile, he needed to take care of him.

— You're a kid. And you have to be nothing more, nothing less than a kid. It's not because that boy wants to act like a grown up that you have too.

— He says my cars are childish.

— One day he'll fall into mind and regret saying that.

— Can I show them to your friend?

Tom froze once again.

— I think Gabby had already seen them.

— No! I'm not talking about her! I'm talking about your friend in your room. John!

Stupid fake ass name.

His brother continued.

— He seems hurt. That's why he isn't gay, right? He isn't happy like you and Gabby so that's why you can't say he's your friend yet. But we can change that with my car collection!

— You talked to… — He sighed before saying that ridiculous name. — John?

— Yes. He is very cool. I went into your room to get back my Superman comics mom told me you took from my room, and saw him in your bed.

He remembered the Superman comic he got from his brother to read something as he recovered from the accident during summer.

— His hair is so cool! I thought he was a girl when I first looked at him, but then we started chatting.

He cringed at the thought of the two interacting. What would the two have in common to talk about, besides Tom?

— We were talking about Superman! Did you know that Superman has a dog!? It's not really his dog, it's Supergirl's… I had no idea before John told me!

Jake is into Superman? That was something he would have never guessed.

— His dog is white and fluffy and just the cutest! I want to have a dog just like him.

Tom let go of his brother's thin arms and stood up.

— Okay, so now why don't you go take your shower instead of trying to distract me?

He huffed.

— I thought it would work — he said as he rolled his eyes and turned around to take off his jeans and underwear, leaving them on the floor with no care about where it was left, before quickly entering the shower and closing the shower curtains.

Chuckling with the childishness of throwing clothes on the floor, Tom picked each of them to put them in the basket as he heard the water running down the drain and saw the fog of it fill the entire room.

— Is John sleeping over? — Tony asked from the shower.

Tom was putting on his underwear as he thought about how to answer that.

— Uhm… He's sleeping over, but…

— He has nowhere else to go?

He bit his lip and sighed, as the sound of water splashing on the floor filled the room.

— Yeah.

— Is John like Superman?

Tom frowned, getting in his pants.

— What do you mean?

— In Smallville, he didn't have anywhere to go either, and he needed to hide from bad guys that could try to take him away from his family. Is John hiding? Are there bad guys looking after him?

— Take your shower, Tony.

He only huffed in response.

Once he was fully dressed, he cleaned his brother's mess in the sink full of shaving cream.

— I'm getting out. Don't take long or mom will get mad.

— Mom doesn't get mad.

Tom chuckled.

— Don't take long.

As he closed the door of the bathroom he heard muffled voices coming from downstairs; but it was only when he was close enough to his room that he could understand what they were saying.

— We have to go to a hospital, Jackie.

— That boy is scared, William. Those bruises… They weren't all made tonight. Something is happening in this boy's house, and forcing him to go to the hospital is not doing anything.

What did his mom mean by that?

Tom slowly covered the doorknob with his hand before even slower turning it to open the door. With a light click his door was open and he pushed it carefully for it to not squeak, which he failed a little.

Noisy ass door.

His parents went silent.

— That's not really the time for us to talk about that — He heard his mom whisper.

He entered his room into the crack he had opened and closed the door behind him with a relieved sigh.

— So?

He thought his heart was about to jump out of his chest after he heard Jake's voice; having completely forgotten that he was there.

— We can go to sleep! Or-or… you can eat! Damn, I should have thought about that earlier. You have to eat.

— I'm not hungry, Tom, that's alright.

His chest rose and fell with anxiety.

— I…

— I didn't know you had a brother.

Suddenly he felt ashamed for not having mentioned it before. He loved his brother, he just didn't want to bring him to his messed up life; all he expected was for his brother and all of Tom's problems never crossed paths, but there it was, Tom's biggest problem in his room talking about Superman to Tony.

— He studies in an internal school in another state, he… He only comes back five weeks before winter to stay for like three months for Christmas… 

Winter. Gosh, they were five weeks away from winter! Which meant they were four weeks away from Halloween! Which meant he avoided Jake all this time! All this time, all this long since the school year began!

— Uhm. Halloween…

— What's up with Halloween?

— Uhm… — He faked a yawn. — Look at the time! When will your sister come back home tomorrow? We should sleep if we still want to clean all that mess in your yard before she arrives!

Jake raised an eyebrow.

— Alright. Uhm-

— Oh, right! Pajamas! — Tom said, hurrying into his closet to grab a pair of pajamas for him.

— I can sleep in my sweaters, I just…

Tom turned around to look at him.

— Just what?

A short sighed filled the room and Jake gave him a weak smile.

— Nothing. Let's sleep.

Tom grinned at him.

The bed squeaked as Jake put his weight on top of it.

— Don't worry about the sounds, it's a bit noisy… — Tom explained as he laid in the duvets of the floor before reaching for the second light switch in the room beside his bed, as the first is beside the door. — Can I turn off the lights?

— Sure.

With a click the room was filled with a sleepy darkness, and Tom rested his head in his pillow, still feeling his heart beating like a drum in his chest.

— So… John?

Jake giggled.

— Yeah, sorry about that. I just figured it would be better than explaining that I was Jake, the weirdo from the calls, to your mother.

He felt his chest loosen up a bit with the chuckle Jake took out of him, but an exquisite doubt still lingered in his mind.

— Who were these guys?

Jake didn't answer.

— You said you knew them. But they aren't from our school. Who were they?

The trees outside swang with the breeze of the night and the movement of the leaves was the only sound heard in the room before Jake decided to speak.

— I… — The trees and the leaves once again. — I met this guy at a party my sister was throwing at our house like one year ago. I didn't want to be there and then I met him. He didn't want to be there either. And we stayed at each other's company drinking coke and rum, having a couple of laughs and before I could notice we were making out in my room… I felt so great. I felt like… I felt like someone really wanted me, you know? Someone wanted to kiss me. Me. Then I told my sister and she just got so mad! She started saying that he wasn't a guy she'd want me to hang with, but I just couldn't understand her. I asked why she even invited him to her party then and she just said she didn't, that Yul was the one to bring him. That she didn't like Yul himself and was sure that his friends were worse…

Tom frowned. He had no idea who the hell was Yul.

— Who's Yul?

Jake gagged.

— You don't remember Yul? We studied with him during the entire high-school. He moved to Florida to be a model, or that's what he told everyone last year. How can you not remember him? He always messed with you.

It was Tom's turn to gag.

Who was Yul? Why would he mess with him? And most importantly: why couldn't he remember him?

— Go on with your story…

— I told my sister she should give him a chance. That he was a nice guy. But that, well…

— Turned out to not be true?

Jake nodded with a sigh.

— We started… Not dating… We were just hanging out. He started to act so…

— Different?

— Obsessive. He wasn't different, he seemed to show his true face. He acted so rude around my friends. He talked shit about them to me and made me believe all the shit he said. And soon I was turning my back on my friends because of what he'd say. Then he found… — Jake hesitated.

— He found what?

— Look, since the last year of middle school I've been receiving these letters… Anonymous letters. At first I thought it was some kind of joke, but I kept it. Then, maybe two months before summer, he found them. All the letters I had been receiving for the past four years. He started freaking out. He started to say that I was cheating on him. I said that I would never do that and he just said that I should prove to him that I wasn't. I just ran out of his apartment, went back home and pretended it didn't happen. I didn't see him for a month. I got all my friends back. Everything went back to normal. Then he broke into my room. The way I taught him when we were together and made out while my family was asleep. I went to the bathroom and when I was back he was there. Standing there. Smiling at me. As he held the current letter I had left over my bed. He threatened me and my friends. He said that if I didn't come back to him there would be consequences. A week later my friend, Hunter, was in an alcoholic coma. — He sniffed, like he was crying. — He always said he felt like Hunter was into me. And he came back the following week, completely crashing out. He said that if I didn't come back he'd kill himself. That if what he's done to Hunter wasn't enough for me to come back then that I wouldn't have someone to come back to.

— Did he do it?

— He haunted me a bit more before. And now I'm here.

Tom could feel the bitterness of it all at the tip of his tongue.

— And do you know the funny part? It wasn't even the first time he said something like that. Every Goddamn friday. Of every Goddamn week. He called me. Drunk. He called saying that he had a gun. Or that he had prepared it all and was calling to say goodbye. And every Goddamn time, I ran to his apartment as fast as I could, struggling with what could have happened to him. But that time he didn't call. To say goodbye. To threaten his life. He just did it.

Tom kept quiet, trying to take in all Jake told him.

— Did you love him?

Jake sighed and chuckled.

— I like to believe that I did, but no. No, I didn't. I guess I just loved… the attention he gave me. A guy in college wants me. It can blow someone's head out of so much ego it can give you when you're in junior year.

— Are you alright?

He chuckled once more.

— I haven't had a single night of sleep since he last broke in.

Jake had said he was haunted more than what he had already told him.

— And when was that?

Jake didn't answer.

— The only sleep I had was when we took a nap on the couch.

— You didn't answer my first question. Who were these guys?

— Blake's friends — he answered almost automatically.

Tom supposed Blake was the guy's name.

— I'm sorry.

— You saved me. You don't have to be.

The leaves…

— I can't sleep. The only time I rested was when we napped together. You are laying on the cold floor, but you helped me, it's not fair. Sleep here — he said it all so fast it took all his breath. He panted. — With me. On your bed. It's the only way for me to reciprocate what you've done for me tonight.

Tom rolled his eyes.

For as much as he wanted that, that was not how it should go. He wanted Jake all to himself, he felt so selfish. But he knew that if he laid next to him he would be dead. He would be a whole new man; yes, he'd be a man; not just any man, he'd be a dead man. He was certain of two things that would happen if he did that: there would be two more hairs grown in his chest by the morning and his heart would beat so fast he'd have a heart attack.

— Please.

One single word and he stood up right and laid next to Jake in his bed, underneath the sheets and blanket. His chest rose and fell, rose and fell. And he repeated in his head to try to control his feelings and his body, “rise and fall, rise and fall”. He could swear he felt a new hair growing in his chest.

— Good night, Tom. — Jake gave him a kiss on his jaw and turned around.

Jake's back stared back at him awkwardly. His eyes wide. He had no clue where to leave his limbs at.

He raised his hand beneath the blanket and laid it in Jake's arm. It didn't feel natural. He took it back and raised it again. He rested it right on top of his hip. It felt better, but just not right. He felt a warm hand wrap its fingers around his wrist. The hand pulled his all the way from his hip to his waist, after entering his sweatshirt, then travelled it all along his torso to his chest, holding it right on top of his heart.

He felt his hand lay flat in Jake's chest, his arm being held by Jake's as if he meant to not want him to let go.

Ba-boom. Ba-boom.

He felt in his hand and in his own chest.

His eyes felt heavier. Heavier and heavier as he caressed his thumb in Jake's chest…