Akrasia (bxb)

The first time David had seen his mother cry, the boy was just six years old. She was sobbing, and her wrists were bleeding. David didn't understand why his mother would do that, why she'd tried to leave him like that. His father had walked in then, saw his wife's bleeding wrists and cursed louder than he ever had. He had yelled at David, "Get the hell out of the way, boy," And though he did as he was told, David had stayed close enough, and watched as his mommy's freckled face turned pale. He could hear his father calling for an ambulance, but his eyes never left the cross hanging low on his mother's chest, her favorite necklace, just to distract himself from the pool of blood surrounding her. The sirens and the EMTs came in one big blur, taking his mother away. "Mommy! Mommy!" David had called out, but his father pulled him back, kept him the hell away like he wanted. David didn't see his mommy again for what felt like forever. His dad was meaner than usual, his frustration at having to pay a babysitter to watch his son after school was getting worse and worse as the weeks past. David was too young to notice then, but his mother had kept him safe from that side of William Johnson. But his mother was gone, cooped up in a hospital that David wasn't allowed to go to. William had to come home to David and actually tend to him, something he'd usually leave for his wife to do. William wasn't kind. He was a big man; 6'4" and solid. He had no patience for children, which was probably why he only made the mistake of having a kid once. David wasn't even a particularly whiny child. He just missed his mom, missed her hugs and her cooking. This caused him to act out sometimes, and one particular evening the school called his father while he was at work. See, David had gotten a s******g before. He knew they sucked, but it was a punishment he was used to. What his father did when he got home that evening was worse than any whooping. That was the first time his father had hit him, truly hit him. David didn't know what to do other than cry in his room, silently begging for him mom to come home. Sure enough, she came home that next day. But she wasn't the same. She was quieter, seemingly closed off from the world and even her own son. Meredith Johnson still woke up every morning and cooked breakfast, still stood beside David as he waited for the school bus, cleaned the house and made sure supper was ready by the time William got home from work. She didn't smile as much anymore. She almost never laughed. She didn't cry either, not even when William would yell in her face, calling her worthless and lazy with David in earshot. She would only cry when William would finally get tired of her silence and slap her across the face. Maybe that was all he wanted. A reaction. David would always be there, soaking in every interaction. He was too little to stop it. Trying only made William hurt him, too. David tried his best to stay on his good side. He got good grades, he didn't talk back, everything was fine as time went on. Usually. Sometimes, William would get home late, drunk and angry for no reason at all and take it out on Meredith and if for some reason David got in the way, he'd get it just as bad. That was rare though. David tried not to think about it. It was getting easier, what with his mother finally getting better. It took three years after she tried to kill herself, but she smiled more. Hugged David more. Protected him more. He finally felt whole again. Things were finally looking up. That was until David's body decided to hit puberty at just nine years old. It was a stupid thing to worry about considering every kid had to go through it at some point, and his pediatrician even said it was normal for a boy to start at that age. His mother even joked about how he'd start noticing girls and develop little crushes. The problem was, he wasn't looking at girls. Not in that way anyway. He wasn't looking at them and thinking about how pretty they were or how soft their hair looked. Something must have been wrong, because he definitely wasn't looking at girls. He was looking at boys, at how cute they were, like... how a girl would. Something must have been wrong with him, a fact that he couldn't shake one day after gym class. He was in the locker room with the other boys, changing out of his sweaty gym clothes, and he couldn't keep his eyes away from the others. It was wrong, it had to be, because one of the kids looked straight at him, finger pointed in his direction and yelled, "Johnson has a stiffy! He's a fag!" Mortified, David pulled his pants up and tried to make his way to the door. One boy stopped him before he could actually do that, his grip tight around his wrist like his father had done just two nights before, digging into the light bruises that were already there. He was pulled down to the ground. He tried to fight it, tried to push them off, but it was no use. He went home with a black eye and bruised sides, but downright refused to talk about it despite his mother's fretting. So, for a long time, he ignored that part of him. Pretended it didn't exist. And it was easy enough-all he had to do was think about other things. Like surfing, sports and cars. Great distractions to keep his mind off the bad things. It even helped keep his mind off those times he'd overheard Meredith muttering to herself about things that weren't really there. Another bad thing to push down into the dark corners of his mind. ~*~ David learned the hard way that just because you choose to overlook those things don't mean they go away. No — no, they grow, They fester. His mother, who had been smiling more and who had been seemingly happy despite everything, had finally gave in to whatever demons that were plaguing her. She refused to get out of bed. Refused to speak. Refused to eat. William had his wife committed after two days. David was just thirteen when his mother was taken away, when his entire world fell apart. William seemed to be taking it well, because by the time David had reached his next birthday, the man was already dating around. It was like Meredith meant nothing to him. And that made David angry, an emotion he was never allowed to have. It simmered, threatening to boil over. He knew if he showed this anger at home, if he even stepped out of line once, William would surely put him back in his place. Partying eased the burn. He'd made a name for himself thanks to sports, so he was pretty popular. It gave him access to all the great parties, even the ones with high schoolers. He looked older than fourteen. He was broad shouldered and tall, already almost six feet in height. It didn't help that he was filling out with muscle thanks to the sports. And his hair, everyone's favorite part about him, was thick, curly, and blond. Everyone liked him, for the way he looked, the way he talked, the way he didn't take any s**t from anyone. At least during those times, he was able to let loose. He could smoke and drink and just forget about all his troubles for one night. David never took into consideration how doing those things could make his own demons harder to push down. It made it harder to ignore that part of him he was supposed to keep locked away. His bright blue eyes locked with a sophomore's. They were around the same height, his skin had a nice surfer's tan to it, his hair dark brown-... he was attractive, that was what David's brain was telling him. The boy was walking towards him, and his body immediately tensed up as he remembered that day when he'd gotten beaten up. He wasn't going to let that happen again, he knew how to fight back. But, the look in that boy's eyes was different from the others. He looked over at David with a gaze of understanding, and that made the fourteen year old confused and ready to jump out of his own skin. "Haven't seen you around before." The boy said in David's ear so they could hear each other over the loud music, the sound sent odd shivers down his spine. David didn't exactly know how to respond to that. David had seen him before, just didn't know his name. He'd only been to a few parties before that one, so it made sense that not everyone knew him. "My name's Jason." He gave after a few moments of silence. He was closer than before, his back against the wall beside David. They didn't exactly look suspicious, but he felt like his heart was going to jump out of his chest. "Uh.. I'm David." He muttered, his eyes everywhere. It felt as though if anyone looked in his direction, someone would be able to see his inner panic. Then they'd all know. "Cool." Jason took a long sip of his beer, "Do you want to go upstairs?" He asked, right back against David's flushed ear. David felt like his heart was going to pump out of ears, it was all too much. And yet, he followed Jason. It was like he had no control over his own two feet as they found an empty room. David stood awkwardly in the middle of the room as Jason locked the door. His body tensed as the older boy came back and put a hand on his shoulder. "Now that We can finally hear each other.." Jason had his hands up against David's red cheeks, his thumbs brushing against his freckles, "God, you're beautiful." He said through a sigh. David immediately felt a reaction to the praise, even though he couldn't quite place it. "But first off.. how old are you?" His green eyes were serious right then, and David's voice caught in his throat because if he were to tell the truth, everything would stop and for some reason he didn't want it to. He knew it was wrong, that he shouldn't lie, but there was something deep inside of him that wasn't going to let him turn the opportunity down. "Sixteen." David lied, his tone flat. Jason seemed satisfied enough, and then he leaned in and kissed him. Right on the lips. David's first real kiss. The music seemed to fade out as their clothes were shed, as Jason gently pushed him against the mattress, cooing in his ear that everything was good. That he was good. David believed him. It was a lot all at once, but David's brain turned into pure mush as his body reacted to things he'd never done. It was a night full of firsts and it was great, so good, just teetering at the edge of overwhelming. It also kind of hurt, just a little bit, but that seemed worth it at the time. When everything was said and done, when Jason had already slipped out of David's body, used condom in hand and got dressed, he looked over the younger boy's spent form with an amused smirk. David didn't like that look on his face. It made him feel small, made him feel immature. He forced himself to sit up, despite his body screaming at him not to. "I'm sure you understand how this works, but it needs to be said that this has got to stay right here. No one can know." David kept his face still and emotionless as he nodded. And with that, Jason left. They couldn't be seen leaving the room together. It would look bad on them both. He sat there on a stranger's bed for what felt like hours, taking in the smell of s*x. It was weird. His mouth still felt odd, almost sore from all of the kissing. But the real sore part of him was his bottom. It didn't exactly hurt while it was happening. Jason had done something to prevent that. Something he called prepping. Which was basically just him fingering David open like he was a girl or something. But it had worked well enough, because when he was actually inside, filling David up in ways he never thought possible, it wasn't too painful. It was really good, actually. He wanted to do it again, that much he was sure of. And that realization left him terrified. ~*~ He never did hook up with Jason again. In fact, when David started high school and the older boy figured out he was just a freshman, he avoided David like the plague. Fair enough. David wasn't too pressed about it. He had other things to worry about. Like his grades and his new part time job that paid the bus fare to visit his mother in a mental institution an hour away. Oh, and the fact that his father had already gotten a steady girlfriend. Karen was her name. She was around too much, and a recent development was her own daughter coming around, too. Her name was Abigail or something stupid like that, David didn't really care. He didn't like them. He didn't want them in their house. He hated seeing Karen in their kitchen making dinner, hated Abigail sitting at their table doing her homework like she lived there already. David supposed he felt just a little bit bad for feeling that way. Karen was nice, albeit stupid for choosing to date William. And Abigail was just eleven, with a fiery personality that maybe David would have enjoyed under different circumstances. The fact was, he didn't like them. But most of all, he hated William. He hated that the man could fool anyone and everything into thinking he was some type of perfect Christian parent. Even Karen was fooled for the first year. But then she saw it. Saw as William grabbed David one night after the boy came home too late, smelling of booze and-unbeknownst to everyone else, another man's cologne. David wanted her to see. Maybe not Abigail, she didn't need to see that. Good thing the brat was already asleep in the guest room that was slowly turning into her own. But Karen had to see it. She had to know. William grabbed David by his curly hair, tugging at the roots as he yelled, "You're so damn worthless, just like your mother." And then he pushed his son up against the front door, the doorknob jabbing into his back. Karen almost looked relieved, like the little spat was over. It was far from over. In fact, with the way William gripped at his face, he knew it was going to be worse than before. The first punch was right on his solar plexus, knocking the air right out of him. He fell to his knees, trying to catch his breath, but his father's blows didn't stop there. He was hitting David's face that time. There was blood hitting the linoleum. He'd fallen to his side at some point, could hear his father calling him a faggot for his too tight jeans and loosely buttoned shirt. It almost made David laugh, because if only he knew. If William did ever find out how much of a 'faggot' his son truly was, that beating would have been David's last. David blacked out after the man started to kick at his side, slipping in and out of consciousness. He could recall his father dragging him to his room, could see the guest room door open just slightly until he met sleepy and confused hazel eyes staring straight at him. Abigail wasn't meant to see him like that. He couldn't help but feel guilty about it. White hot pain ripped through him once he hit his bedroom floor, the carpet bringing no comfort as he fell right on to his bruised ribs. The door slammed shut, leaving him alone in the dark. The only light came from the moon as it slipped passed the slats of the old blinds, illuminating his blood stained face and chest. He fell asleep just like that. He had no will to move, to force his aching body to get up and fall onto his bed. His head ached, even through the black nothingness that was his dream. He wasn't sure what was real and what wasn't. He wasn't sure at first if he was really seeing Abigail slipping to his room, her frizzy mess of brown curls the first thing that caught his eye. She moved cautiously, her movements unsure as she knelt down beside him. She had a wash cloth in her small, chubby hands. Abigail cleaned his wounds wordlessly. David didn't know why she was doing that. "Don't need your help." David ground out as he tried to sit up. She rolled her eyes as he gasped out in pain. Right, his ribs. The memory of his father's steel toed boots came full force. "Stop talking and take this." Abigail grumbled, but there was no heat to it. She held out a pain pill in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. David took them reluctantly, but couldn't help but chug the cold beverage after popping the pill into his mouth to relieve the dry, cracking feeling in his throat. He crushed the bottle in his hand once he was done and threw it to the floor. He put his head in his hands, taking in deep, slow breaths. His head still felt like it was splitting in two. It was going to take some time before the medicine kicked in, and he wasn't sure it was going to be enough. "...what happened?" Abigail asked, forcing his gaze back up to her. He looked over her face, her chubby cheeks, her wide hazel eyes. Then down to her little hands; he could see dried blood on the tips of her fingers. His blood. She didn't know that his dad that to him. "You left some blood on the floor, by the door.. my mom had to clean it up." David didn't like that visual. Didn't like thinking about Karen having to do that. Did William make her? He would not have been be surprised. "Got into a fight. But don't you worry about me. You should see the other guy." David gave as he used his dresser to help himself up. Abigail tried to reach out to help him, but he just shook his head. He didn't need any more help. Not from Karen, not from Abigail, not from anyone. "Okay," Abigail sighed. David could tell she wasn't fully convinced, but at least she was smart enough to leave well enough alone. "Come out when you're ready. My mom's making breakfast." She said as she reached the door. She spared him one last glance before leaving all together. David wished he could say he was surprised that Karen decided to stay. He wondered how long it was going to last. ~*~ The last time David saw his mother cry, he was just seventeen, and he was telling her that he was leaving. He was moving away with William and his new wife, far from their home in California. Meredith was still unable to leave the institution. Her mind was slowly deteriorating, there was no way to take her with them. Not that his father would have allowed it anyway. David would have, if he had the choice. He'd scoop his mother's frail body into his arms and take her away some place where'd they'd be at peace, where they could be happy. He couldn't though, and that fact made a sob rip through is chest. She sat up from her position on the bed and pulled him in, and he wrapped his arms around her small body, careful not to be too rough. But he needed that, needed his mother to hold him like she did when he was young, small and vulnerable. "I love you so much, David. My sweet boy." She sobbed into his curls, "I'm sorry, for everything. Should have.. should have been stronger for you." She choked out. David backed up so he could look at her, so she could see him shake his head. "Don't say that. You-you're amazing, mom. I don't want to go.. I don't want to leave you." At hearing this, she pulled away, just to rummage through the nightstand beside her. She was only supposed to have her journal, anything else was deemed too dangerous for a patient to have, which was why he was surprised when she pulled out her favorite necklace. She leaned forward, a small smile on her thin lips as she put it on David. "A kind nurse let me keep this." She explained as she finished clasping the chain. She rested her hands on his tear stained cheeks, using her thumbs to brush them away. "It's yours now, son. I hope it can bring you some type of protection." David stared down it, the silver cross cold against his the exposed part of his chest. It looked weird on him. Felt weird. He wasn't religious in any sense of the word. Hell, he was sure if there was a god, they already hated him. "Mom, I can't just.. I'm.." He didn't really know where he was going with that. It wasn't like he could say hey, no, mom, I can't take your cross because of how much of a queer I am. God's rules and all, you know how it is. But as he looked back up at her, at her knowing smile, he knew he didn't have to say it. Somehow, she must have known something, or at least suspected something. "There's nothing wrong with you, okay? I need you to know that. And it's okay if you don't believe in this, son. Keep it anyway, so you can remember me." She said before leaning in to kiss David's forehead. He couldn't help it, another sob broke through. "I love you, mom." He cried as she backed away. Her tears stained her cheeks, but her eyes were void of all emotion. She was gone, like they didn't just have a precious moment together. He held her hand as she laid back down, her gaze on the white ceiling and nothing else. David had no choice but leave her just like that. ~*~ David Johnson hated North Carolina. They were back at a coastal state, just three hours away from the ocean, but it wasn't his home. He saw  too many homes lined with confederate flags, much to his father's delight. David figured soon enough their new house would have one, too. David was angry. It made his hands shake, made his skin feel like it was on fire. He'd lash out every time Abigail asked if he was okay, which only resulted in her going off, "Such an asshole," She whisper-shouted, "You act like I want to move." David was just about to tell her off, but he caught his father's hard gaze in the rear view mirror. Behave, William warned without having to say a word. David did as he was told, his lips a thin line. He could feel Abigail's eyes on his shaking hands. When they made it to their new home, it was in the lower-class part of the city. The house itself looked ancient... and small. There wasn't much of a front yard either. The neighboring houses were too close together. David hated it. He knew he wasn't allowed to express that, so he kept his mouth shut and just helped unpack. He hated his new school, too. It was old, just like everything else in that town. He established a place for himself soon enough though. He didn't let himself get picked on for being the new kid. The other students liked him well enough because of his car, his black Chevrolet Camaro that his dad surprised him with, just to keep up with the good parent act. David sure wasn't complaining about it though. And then there was Michael 'Magi' Smith. He was somehow the most popular guy in a pool of white kids. Michael wasn't what David expected. He was tall, if not just a few inches shorter than David. His body looked as though it was lined with muscle, most likely from sports. And his hair was long, black, mostly worn in a low ponytail. On the first day, when David first saw him, he couldn't help but try to figure out what his deal was. Michael was smart, and admittedly beautiful. He would ignore racist remarks that would be thrown at him occasionally. David guessed it was because they were disguised as jokes, mostly coming from the mouths of Michael's own friends. Not only was Michael just an overall good-natured dude, he was also a party animal, just like David. David was invited to a party pretty quickly, thanks to his own qualities. He fit in rather quickly, too, and that made things just a tad bit easier. He spent a long month in that place, and he longed for a party just like that one. The weed wasn't as good as it was back in Cali, but it was better than nothing. It kept his mind off of everything he didn't want to think about. He let his eyes wonder to Michael, who was dancing with his girlfriend across the room. He kept his eyes on Michael though, on his smooth brown skin, on his white teeth as he smiled at something his girl said. But then their eyes finally met. Ocean blue met whiskey brown, and David couldn't bring himself to look away. Michael was watching David, despite his girl's head laying on his shoulder. David took a long pull from the joint, throwing his head back slightly as he let the smoke escape his parted lips. Michael's eyes traveled down the expanse of David's throat, and the blond couldn't help but smirk. And then she must have said something because it made him tear his gaze away so he could give her his full attention. That was okay. That one look told him all he needed to know. Time in the middle of nowhere was looking good after all.