People Like Us (Boy x Boy)

Fag-a-tron

Xavier's POV

Skylar took me home late that night. It was already dark by the time we pulled up outside my house. I clicked my seatbelt off but made no motions to exit the car. I didn't want to leave. If I had a choice, I would stay with Skylar forever. But I knew that by doing that, my explicitly ignoring my father's wishes, it would mean more trouble for both Sky and I.

Skylar twisted in his seat to look at me. He leaned over and pressed his lips against mine. As my eyes drifted shut, I kissed him back as if my life depended on it. His lips parted against mine and I felt his tongue push against my lips and so I granted him entrance. Our tongues danced around with each other as I reached up and tangled my fingers in his hair, pulling him closer.

Skylar pulled away, only to catch his breath, before he came back, his hands cupping my face, his kiss much more sweet and gentle. He leaned his forehead against mine.

"Stay safe, Xavier," he whispered. I didn't reply, as I tried to catch my breath. "I love you."

"I love you," I replied, before pulling back and opening the car door, shutting it softly behind me. Skylar waited until I had gone inside to drive away.

I could smell the alcohol that drifted from the kitchen. Jaw clenched, I shut the door softly behind me, trying to be as quiet as possible. I took a few steps forward, pausing to make sure he hadn't realized that I was home. I had just passed the entrance to the kitchen and was nearing the stairs when I heard him call out my name and I froze.

"Xavier!" I heard him stumble out from the kitchen. I didn't need to turn around to know that he had a bottle of alcohol in his hand. "Thought you could sneak past your old man, did you?" My jaw clenched and my hands curled into fists.

"Turn around and look at me." I couldn't. I couldn't face him. Not when he was like this. "I said, turn around and look at me!"

Something went flying past my head and I flinched when I heard the loud bang echo through the house. Eyes wide, I looked up to see broken glass raining down the wall in front of me. Liquid slowly dripped down the walls and gathered into small puddles on the floor.

Swallowing, I slowly turned around, pressing my hands into my sides to hide the fact that they were shaking. My heart hammered in my chest and, all of a sudden, it was incredibly hard to breathe.

My father stood there, his graying brown hair hanging limply from his head. His brown eyes scanned me from head to toe while he swayed drunkenly from side to side. There was a bit of liquid dribbling down from the side of his mouth.

"Where've you been, boy?" he asked, his eyes narrowing.

"With a friend," I answered softly.

He barked out a laugh. "People like you don't have friends," he said, "you good for nothing fag."

Tears prickled at my eyes and I blinked rapidly so they wouldn't stream down my face. I'd learned a long time ago that showing weakness made everything worse.

"What happened to you?" he asked.

"I-I got in a fight...at school."

"Fucking shit!" he exclaimed, stumbling towards me. Panic gripped me and I took a step back.

"Your mother would have hated you as you are now!"

I couldn't help it. The tears slid down my face as his words stabbed at my heart. He rarely ever talked about my mother, and when he did it was to blame me for her death.

"It's your fucking fault she's gone! You just had to go and take your sister away from me too, you worthless piece of shit!"

I squeezed my eyes shut when his hand connected with the side of my face. I whimpered, frozen into shock, unable to do anything as he continued to hit me. Somehow I ended up on the floor. I curled up into a ball, my hands protecting my head as my father streamlined kicks into my back. He cursed and screamed at me. I cried out with every kick, my entire body shaking.