Disclaimer: Fiction, not true, never happened, no disrespect to anyone.
WARNING: The following chapter contains some very disturbing imagery, acts, and scenes. Apologies for them, but they are here to better understand the characters� pasts.
The Story:
Adam heard the cry as clear as day. Even louder actually, since Davey�s cry was filled with furious and pleading emotion. He was compelled to go to his soul mate at once, leaving his conversation with Lars and Mike mid-sentence.
�Dude?� Mike asked.
�Man, he even dropped his brew!� Lars said, quickly snatching up the dropped can before much more could spill. He licked his fingers where some had dripped. �Oh well,� he said, smiling, �his loss,� and drank.
Inside, Adam came to the mess in the kitchen at the same time as Jade. �What the fu-?� Jade asked, but Adam hurried on. The kitchen wasn�t where his Davey was.
Seeing Adam�s determination, Jade grew curious and hurried after, ignoring the mess, also. Adam rushed into Jade�s bedroom to see Davey still laying on his side, curled into a fetal position on the bed, Brian leaning over him, hand on his bicep. Adam�s anger, it seemed, wasn�t completely dispensed from their past fight.
�Get off of him.� he growled, going so far as to pull Brian off himself.
�Let go!� Brian demanded, pulling his arm free and straightening. �I wasn�t doing anything, if that�s what you�re worried about.� He and Jade watched Adam sit on the bed and gently gather Davey to him.
�What happened?� Jade was the one to ask.
Brian pulled stray hairs out of his face, not taking his eyes off Davey�s vacant expression. �Found him in the kitchen. Sitting against the cupboard like a big baby. Saying �please�. Only, now it�s changed to �sorry�. And �don�t go�. Was sitting on that mess of glass.�
Adam shifted, pulling Davey closer. �I�m here,� he whispered in his lover�s ear. �Come on, Davey, snap out of it, I�m here. Come on, tell me what�s wrong. Tell me what�s the matter.� his hands rubbed Davey�s arms and shoulders, then threaded through his hair, smoothing it out. But the dazed expression wouldn�t leave, and Davey wasn�t responding.
Jade gave a suspicious glance at Brian, then cleared his throat. Adam looked up and met Jade�s eyes. He nodded. He knew what Jade was thinking. If Davey wasn�t going to talk, he�d just have to go in and find out what all the trouble was. Adam shifted along the bed until he got Davey up far enough to rest his head on Adam�s shoulder. Adam buried his mouth into the top of Davey�s dark hair and put a hand to the man�s temple. Even this close, he could see that Davey�s roots were trying to grow out. But he pushed this aside and closed his eyes, sinking into the thoughts of his lover.
Immediately, Adam gasped and snapped his eyes open again. Before Jade could ask what he�d seen, Adam glared at Brian. �Get her out of here. She doesn�t need to be here. Davey needs to rest. He�s tired. Go on, Jade! Get her out of here!�
Jade paused, then, gently, pulled Brian out. �Come on,� he coaxed when Brian began to protest, �he�s right, he needs rest. Come on, I�ll get you a beer.� Just outside the room, he whispered, �Davey is in the best hands right now.�
Brian turned wide, shining eyes at Jade, and for the time being, was completely honest in his curiosity. �Jade, what happened to him?�
Jade frowned, perhaps hearing the deep tone of Brian�s voice, finally, or maybe just finally recognizing the face from one of his various rock magazines. He sighed. �I. . . I don�t know. But we�ll find out soon. Adam needs to have some time alone with him. Something private, I guess.� he glanced toward the kitchen, then back at Brian. �Uhm, so. . . you�re. . . you�re a guy?�
Brian blinked. This was one of those times he had planned numerous snappy comebacks. He had a dozen lined up, prepared whether he wanted to insult someone or get them to laugh. At this moment, Brian�s mind cleared itself of all this rubbish and drew blanks. He nodded, still innocuously wide-eyed. �Yeah.�
Jade nodded. And for some reason, a reason only Jade knew, he blushed and turned shy. �Oh, okay,� he said, feet shifting. He realized Brian was still looking at him, so decided to speak his mind. �Erhm, well. . . I mean, you�re very pretty. . . for a guy.�
�Thanks.� Brian said without any flirtatious simpering. Jade saw his eyes go back to his bedroom door and relaxed. His embarrassment would be forgotten soon, then.
�Don�t worry.� Jade said, leading him away again, �He�s going to be just fine.�
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Adam gently laid Davey out on the bed and fixed the blanket around him. He made to get up and turn off the light, when Davey�s hands shot out and gripped his hand tightly.
�Please,� Davey whispered. Adam looked down to see his eyes almost completely back, expression terrified. �Please, don�t go. Don�t go. I�m sorry. Please, I�m sorry.�
Adam hurried back down, cradling Davey�s face with affection. �Davey, snap out of this. I�m never going to leave you, got that? NEVER. I know what�s going on in your head. Fight it! That�s the past! Come on, Davey, wake up now.�
The light from the dim bulb in Jade�s room glanced off Davey�s dark brown eyes, giving them shadows and depths. In the shadows, Adam saw pictures. Pictures he didn�t want to see; pictures he knew Davey was reliving again and again, nonstop. A tireless loop.
�Why?� Adam asked, eyes watering and voice a whisper. �Why do you keep thinking about that? Why do you keep bringing it up in your mind? It was a long time ago. Not now. Not now. It was the past.�
�But,� Davey whispered, eyes still locked on Adam�s as he once again drew back into the past, this time taking Adam along as well, �the past. . . is now.�
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Little Davey sat at the bureau, inspecting the contents of his mother�s accessory tools. Here were her containers of foundation, there her tiny pots of blush. Her lipsticks were lined all in a row, from lightest to darkest, and all nearly empty. Her eyeshadow was a great pad in the shape of a clamshell, the colors divided by the grooves of the shell. She had two boxes of jewelry. One was meant to contain only costume pieces, the other for the better, richer stuff. But both held mostly fake stuff now.
His mother�s habit of taking off coincided with her habit of losing her good jewelry. She had stopped giving Davey nice presents a few months back as she became more drawn to the streets. While she was gone, he often came into her room, examined her make-up, peeked into her closet, or just sniffed his favorite perfume. It was the slender bottle in the middle of her cosmetic heap. The glass was frosted and the top was shaped like a white flower.
When Little Davey came to this bottle, he first would let his fingers trace the sharp curve of the frozen, white petals, dipping into the center of the plastic flower. This, he figured, was what the actual flower looked like. The one that smelled like the perfume in the bottle. It wasn�t until many years later that he found the exact flower did he realize the two, smell and flower, weren�t the same at all. He would be greatly disappointed. But, for now, he was still young and hopeful. He carefully took the top off and gave the little nozzle a few sniffs. The perfume of vanilla essence wafted through his senses and put a slight, crooked smile to his face. He loved this one! His mother only wore it on special occasions, or when she was extra nice. It was a gift, she said once, from a woman she knew when she was younger. Nothing more was said after that, and Davey was forbidden to touch it.
Not that it was terribly valuable, but because she thought he wanted to steal her things. Mainly, her soul. She had told him many times, that if he took her bottle, he would be taking her soul. But, then she also said that about her jewelry, too. . . . and. . . everything else.
So he gave the bottle one more sniff, then put the cap back on. He carefully set it back in it�s original place, which he was an expert at, already� putting things back while undetected by others� and turned to the jewelry. He had his favorites there, also. The golden necklace with the rose pendant and the golden charm bracelet with the dangling roses were his pick, time and again. He put these on, making sure to glance at the clock on his mother�s night stand as a precaution, then rummaged for the tiny golden rose studs. But as much as he pushed aside and lifted, the earrings were gone. Not that he could actually WEAR them, no. Since his ears weren�t pierced, he simply held them up in his reflection.
Little Davey looked up at himself in the mirror and simply IMAGINED the earrings on his ears. He grinned. They looked so nice. They were meant for him, he knew, how they sparkled and shined, making the light on his own eyes brighter. One of these days, his mother would come to realize this and maybe, just maybe, she would hand them over to him. Maybe.
�Maybe.� he smiled to himself, shyly blushing. He looked back at the clock again. Still plenty of time before Frank came home. Even longer if he was going to the bar. But Davey always made sure to cut it short, anyway. To be safe. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, Young Davey was a safe one. Better safe than sorry.
Today, he had decided that morning, and very excitedly, too, he would play dress up completely. He was still much too young to know that playing dress-up was mainly for girls and their mother�s clothes, but because of his innocence, Davey assumed it was all right so long as he wasn�t caught.
He giggled excitedly to himself and hurried over to the closet. His mother, the crazy bitch, still tried to insist that he was a girl. She still bought him dresses and female clothing and accessories, but he wasn�t interested in the cute flower dresses hanging in his own closet. Today, he wanted to wear something from his mother�s own wardrobe. Something. . . red.
He knew which one, too. The one he always liked. It was a nightgown, but he didn�t know that�s what it was. All Little Davey knew was that it was silky and shiny red. He found it, hanging near the back, his mother�s only red nightie. He shed his own clothes and threw this on, no longer bothered by the clock. No, nothing could distract him now that he had this on.
He looked into the mirror and saw not Little Davey, but Little Dominique, the girl his mother had always tried to bring out. He paused. It was. . . a little disturbing, to be honest. The slip of a garment hung on him like a short dress. The thin straps meant to hold up a woman�s. . . endowments, fell loose over his narrow shoulders. He turned this way and that, becoming both intrigued and frightened at what he was seeing. No more Davey. Only Dominique. His movements became more graceful and more delicate as he moved and posed.
Strangely enough, Little Davey, who was nearly almost thirteen, had never been much at mirror-gazing. But this new vision of himself, this new. . . person. . . was just fascinating. Who was she, this girl who stared back at him? Who smiled, who laughed, who winked? She liked red, yes, that was clear. And she liked roses on her jewelry. And none of that fake stuff, no. only gold for Dominique!
Little Davey/Dominique laughed at him/herself in the full length of the mirror hanging from the closet door. He/she did not so much as glance at the clock in the last ten minutes. Not that it would do him/her any good. It was too late an hour ago.
He didn�t hear the door open and close downstairs. He didn�t hear the pause, then the careful footsteps up the stairs. He was having too much fun, laughing and smiling, giggling and shrieking with delight to notice the eyes staring at him from the open door.
Yes, red was his color, Little Davey finally decided. It suited him very much. His eyes traveled to the other things hanging up in his mother�s closet and he wondered if there were other colors that suited him. He began reaching down to pull the hem of the nightie over his head, a small grin on his face, when a voice stopped him.
�Oh no,� Frank�s voice said with undisguised malice, �don�t take it off.�
Little Davey gasped, backing into the mirror and clutching the red silk in his hands with terror. His eyes shot wide and his mouth hung slack as he stared at his father in the doorway. Frank let the door creak all the way open and sneered voraciously at Davey. �Don�t you DARE take it off.� Frank said. He took a step into the room. Davey tried to take another back, but he had already reached the mirror with his back and could move no further.
�I see now.� Frank said softly, eyes glaring at Davey. �I see. Even after I had to teach you a lesson with that make up of yours, you still decide you want to be a girl, Davey? Well, then, why not? You can be a girl if you want to. Why, that would just make your mother the happiest fuck on the planet! And you and her can go shopping and paint your nails and do all that crappy shit girls do! But, oh!� he wagged a finger at Davey, making him flinch. �Oh, I forgot! You can�t be a girl yet! You still don�t know what it�s like, do you? Well, let me show you!� he rushed forward and grabbed Davey�s skinny arm, not using much effort into pulling him away from the mirror.
Davey cried in horror. Not that again! No! He couldn�t! Not since that last time Frank caught him with the make-up had he had to endure a torture session with him like this. But cry and sob and fight as much as he could, Davey could not get free. He was helpless against Frank�s 200+ pounds of fat and muscle.
Frank pushed him down on the bed, face into on of the pillows. �I�ll show you, you little shit,� Frank began to mutter now, as he always did when it came down to these things he did to Little Davey, �I�ll show you what it�s like to be a fucking little wuss. A fucking girl. Girl�s get fucked, DAVEY! Is that what you want? You want to get fucked? I�ll FUCK you DAVEY! I�ll show you what it�s like!� he began undoing his belt. And, as always, Davey�s eyes glazed over and his own defensive mechanisms switched his consciousness to somewhere else.
********
He was with Adam. And they were doing something bad. But good. It was something bad, but it felt good, because it was with Adam, and not Frank. He let Adam do what he didn�t want Frank to do because he loved Adam. Adam was his best friend and true match. There was no other that could make him feel this happy, no other that he could ever want to MAKE happy.
Where were they? Why, by the feel of the bed, in Adam�s room, as they usually were when they did this act, this secret, taboo act hidden from children as young as they were, barely reaching puberty. But Adam didn�t have a lock on his door, so when they DID do it, they did it quickly and dressed again just as fast. They used to go up into Adam�s tree house since that was easier to hide their acts from his parents, but Adam had been adding an inch or two to his height and he complained often that the low ceiling was making him hunch over too much. So Davey gave in and let Adam have his way with him in his bedroom.
This is where they were now, right? No other explanation. There was the bed, and there was Adam entering from behind, like usual. Only, the bed felt a little lumpy, and Adam felt a bit bigger than usual. Little Davey shook these thoughts out of his mind and tried to concentrate on making this experience a good one for Adam. Adam liked when Davey made a little noise. It wasn�t quite a whimper, and it wasn�t quite a moan. But Adam just about went crazy when he heard Davey make it, so Davey did it often for him. And so he did that now, not hearing that the one appreciating the small noise was not Adam, but Frank.
*******
Adam walked up to the house, hands shoved in his pockets. He had done his chores early that day in hopes that Davey would do the same and drop by for a visit. He hadn�t seen his little friend in two days and talked on the telephone to him last night, but that was still forever to a 13 year old. So he decided he couldn�t wait any longer and came to see if Davey was home.
The first thing he noticed was Frank�s car parked in front. That meant the front door would be open and Adam wouldn�t have to knock. Frank didn�t care if he came or went. He also didn�t care if he cursed or said rude, ill-mannered things. The man simply did not give a shit. Adam liked him for that, but that�s where he drew the line. Frank was a detestable human being, and even a kid of Adam�s age and understanding could see that.
Adam, his limbs long and his stance just beginning to get gawky, first went to the living room, then the kitchen. No Davey. No Frank. Instead of calling out, as he always would have done, Adam decided he might as well climb the stairs and find Davey himself. Maybe Davey was on the can? Or maybe he was in his room? Or maybe. . .
Adam�s thoughts broke off as he heard the unmistakable sound of bed springs creaking. He frowned slightly and continued until he reached Davey�s parents� bedroom. Not thinking a single, solitary thought in his mind, Adam stood in front of the doorway and took in the scene before him. Next came the full audio of the event. So deep in his shock, the only thing Adam could do was stand there and stare. After a minute or so, well before Frank was done, Adam turned on mechanical legs and made his way silently down the stairs and out the house. It wasn�t until he was walking down his street that the emotions finally rushed him.
Envy. That was HIS Davey. Sadness. Davey. . . was letting Frank do that to him? What THEY did in private? Anger. Davey. . . was letting Frank do that to him. Rage. And Davey, by the sounds of it, was LIKING it??
His jaw snapped shut , teeth baring in a silent snarl. His fists clenched tightly at his sides and his eyes shone with a sort of manic fury. Of all the. . . no, he had never thought Davey would betray him like that. He still wasn�t sure what they had or what they were exactly doing together, but it was only supposed to be Davey and Adam, only. That Davey was doing that with Frank. . .
�And why shouldn�t he like it with his father?� Adam muttered, wiping his nose roughly along his sleeve, unmindful of the tears streaming down his face. �He used t-t-to like i-it w-w-with me! Now, h-he can have him!� angrily, and vowing hateful curses alongside his revenge, Adam ran the rest of the way home to barricade himself in his room.
******
Young Davey remembered Adam�s strong grip and the way he didn�t push Davey too far into the pillow. He used to do that in the beginning but Davey spoke up and he was careful not to suffocate him. Davey remembered that one time, that time they had been up in the tree house and after Adam was done doing his deed, he had paused then given Davey a long, slow kiss that simply left him speechless. He remembered all this and his love for his friend overtook him once more.
With a rush of euphoria and a shudder that left him speechless but for a few long groans, Davey climaxed. The bed stopped creaking and he felt the hands stop gripping him to be replaced by light kisses. A moment later and the weight of a body leaned over him to kiss his cheek. Davey licked his lips, giving Adam the signal that he wasn�t asleep, just too tired and spent to lift his head for a proper kiss. However, the mouth moved from his cheek to his neck and shoulder, ignoring Davey�s want.
He whimpered and bunched his fingers into the sheets but still he was ignored. Finally, he sighed. �Adam, please,� he whispered breathlessly. �Please, kiss me.�
The mouth stopped and pulled away from his skin. At last, he thought, at last Adam would give in to his favorite pastime and indulge him with kisses. But the kisses never came. The person over him was frozen. They didn�t move. It was an eternity before they spoke. And Davey had been about to nod off.
�You,� came the low, very angry and very dangerous voice of not Adam but Frank, �You. . . what did you say?� Immediately, Davey�s eyes shot open. Oh, shit.
He twisted slightly around to see Frank, skin red with fury, still sitting on top of him and shaking with rage. �You think I�m your boyfriend? You think I�m that fucking little nerd-shit that sticks you? You think I�m you�re fucking boyfriend? You think I�m fucking-shit Adam?!?� His voice reached shouting range, and Davey knew that wasn�t even the extent of his anger. Frank pulled up and off, still glaring at Davey.
�No!� Davey whimpered, now huddled half-naked on the bed. He tried desperately to explain his mistake. �No! You. . . it�s not. . . NO!� This last he cried out as he saw Frank pulling his belt free from his pants.
But Frank was angry. And, like Adam, when he was angry, he�d stay that way until he could vent it out. Davey took his beating that day, like all the other days before, and didn�t wake up from it until the next morning.
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Adam wouldn�t talk to him for over a week. He never looked at his face (if he did, he would have realized things weren�t as they seemed; the bruises took a while to fade). He simply ignored Davey and walked away. Davey tried going to the tree house and calling for Adam but it was always shut and locked against him.
Finally, unable to take his lonesome isolation, Davey knocked on Adam�s front door. Wanda, Adam�s mother, answered. She smiled at Little Davey, whom she absolutely adored. �Why, hello Davey!� I haven�t seen you lately. Adam still not talking?�
Davey shook his head sadly. �No, ma�am. I don�t even know why he�d be mad! Did he tell you?� His hands clasped together hopefully and his eyes were desperate.
Wanda felt a piece of her heart tear. Oh, to be best friends at such a young age! She shook her head. �Oh, I�m sorry, dear, he hasn�t. But, look, he�s in his room right now. Why don�t you go up and there and try to talk to him?�
Davey sniffed back tears. �He w-won�t talk w-with me. I tried before.�
Wanda paused, an idea striking in her mind like a match to an emery board. Her nose twitched just minuscule to reveal her smile. But it was gone so fast Davey didn�t catch it. She nodded solemnly to him. �Alright then. I know what to do. Come on.� She took Davey by the hand and practically dragged him up the stairs.
Without knocking, Wanda opened the door and pulled Davey in with her. Adam looked up in surprise from an old comic book he�d already read a thousand times; a clear sign that he was bored witless.
�Adam!� Wanda began to yell, hoping her plan worked, �If you�re going to be angry at Davey, then at least tell him why! This poor boy�s been coming over everyday for a week hoping you�d talk to him like a MATURE adult and instead you behave like a BRAT!! Get off your high horse and talk to him!� And, as she knew, with all the shouting, Davey�s eyes watered and tears fell as he cringed back from her. He hid his face in his hands and would have ran out of the room if Adam hadn�t quickly come around and put an arm around him.
�Mom!� Adam whispered harshly. �Don�t yell in front of Davey! He can�t take it!�
�I�m sorry,� Wanda said in a more reasonable tone, �but Adam, you�ve been very mean lately. Won�t you two talk?�
�Yes, yes,� he told her, �we�ll talk. But you can�t hear. This is men�s stuff.�
Wanda wanted to smile but nodded seriously. With her plan succeeded, she left them, closing the door behind her.
Adam made Davey sit down on the bed. Davey wiped his face on his sleeves and looked at Adam. �Why are you mad at me?� his voice was shaky but determined.
Adam found that no matter how mad he still was, he couldn�t meet Davey�s eyes. He looked down a this sneakers instead. �Thought. . . well, I thought you only let me do that to you. I didn�t know your dad did it too.� he looked up suddenly. �I saw you two. That day. I opened the door and saw you two.�
Davey flinched, the memory still vivid in his mind, and looked away in shame. �He made me,� he whispered. �I didn�t want to. He beat me up after.� he lifted his sleeves to show Adam the fading but still prominent bruises and scratches that came from a belt buckle.
Adam nodded, finally. �Yeah, I thought so. I guess I just wanted to be mad for a while.� he hesitated, then said, �Sorry I ignored you Davey. You. . . you mad at me now?�
Davey shook his head. �No. Just be my best friend again. Okay?�
�Sure. Whatever.� Adam said gladly. He tossed the comic book off the bed. �It was boring without you anyway.� He took off his shirt and pushed Davey to the bed.
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A/N: God, is Adam a horndog or what? Ehhh. . . there�s a little bit more. . . .
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Ten minutes into their game and they forgot about everything. As they put Adam�s bed to good use, Davey forgot about his torture in the hands of Frank, Adam forgot to be mad, and they both forgot about the door having no lock. But then, they never expected Wanda to come up with a tray of cookies and milk at that precise second.
She opened the door and took two steps in before freezing. When she realized what she was seeing, the poor woman shrieked and dropped the tray, breaking the glasses and spilling milk across the floor. �Eeeeeeiiiiiiiikkkkkkkkkkkk!!!!�
Adam, laying on top of Davey and grunting hard, froze also. �Mom?� he asked dully. Davey brought his head up from the pillow to blink at her with glazed, distant eyes. Wanda drew breath again and nearly staggered backward.
�Adam! Davey!!� she screeched. �What are you doing?! Stop that! Stop that! Get OFF!� she hurried forward and pulled Adam off.
�But I�m not done!� Adam protested, earning several whacks on the head.
�Not done?! NOT DONE!?!� Wanda pulled Davey up as well. They scrambled to pull their pants up as she hauled them downstairs.
�Jake!!� Wanda shouted for Adam�s dad. Adam himself groaned, knowing this was big time if his father was getting pulled into it, too.
Jake came running in from the living room. �What? What is it?� he hurriedly looked at all of them to make sure no one was gushing blood or missing a limb.
Wanda shook Adam�s arm, her grip like iron. �Do you know what your son was doing to Davey??� she shook Davey as well, �What they were doing together?!?� Jake looked blank so Wanda explained. He fumed with anger.
�Adam! Davey!� What the hell do you think you�re doing? Boys don�t have sex! Especially not at your age!�
�But, but, but,� Adam tried talking, thinking desperately. Davey silently cried.
�No!� Jake shouted him down. �It�s inexcusable! What gave you the idea you two could do something like this? Huh? Answer me!�
Adam became angry. So angry, when he spoke he shouted. And Adam had always had the utmost respect for his old man. �It�s fun! We like it! No one told us to do it, we did it on our own! Besides, Davey�s dad thinks it�s okay! He does it to Davey all the time!�
Wanda gasped and turned sharply at Davey with wide eyes. �Davey?� she asked quietly, still in disbelief. �Is that true?�
Now that everyone was watching him, Davey trembled. He hid his face in his hands and cried.
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