blood runs red ✓

VII

'fear is pain arising from the anticipation of evil'

- aristotle

august

"What the fuck?!"

August had been quiet during the short walk back to Sean's car. He was afraid that if he spoke, Sean would remember he was there, and remember what August had done.

"You were standing there acting all friendly to my fucking rival. Are you trying to get in his pants? Fucking whore." Sean had aggressively closed the car door and sat down, but failed to start the car.

August eyed him cautiously. If he wasn't starting the car, he would be talking or doing something else. That didn't sound good at all.

"Well? Aren't you gonna say something?"

The younger man was instantly reminded of the other boxer he met only minutes ago. The fine boxer who got him into this mess.

Losing his patience, Sean decided to get physical. He swung his fist into August's jaw, the sheer force of it slamming his already-bruised face into the window. That finally elicited a response from August.

"What the-" he stopped himself before he could swear. Sean hated swearing. "What was that for?"

"You weren't replying."

August took a deep breath, calming himself down and trying to quiet the voice in his head screaming at him to fight back. "Sorry, what were you saying?"

"I was saying that it was fucking embarrassing finding you with my fucking rival, acting all chummy. Who does that? You're supposed to be my boyfriend."

"Sean, you don't think of me as your boyfriend. You're embarrassed of me in general. You would never openly admit you feeling anything for a man, especially not me."

Instead of getting a reasonable response, such as 'oh you're right babe, I am ashamed of my sexuality', August got a very polite slap to the face. And then an even more polite punch to the side of the head, and the ribs.

"Shut up."

"I'm not wrong though, am I?" August held his ribs painfully. "Ares asked what we were, and I didn't know what to fucking say. What are we, Sean?"

"You're my boyfriend."

August scoffed. "That's why I live in a fucking outhouse in your backyard, and I wear whatever clothes you bought me. That's why you treat me like a friend with secret benefits, or a fucking punching bag."

He knew he was being disrespectful and was going to get hit for that, but swearing was a whole different thing. Swearing, despite it being Sean's favourite thing to do, was absolutely off-limits when it came to August.

"You fucking bitch, don't you dare use that foul language with me." The irony was painful, and so was the punch to the gut. "You're my boyfriend, and if I want to keep you secret, I will."

"Maybe I don't want to be a secret anymore."

"Tough fucking luck. If you don't want to be a secret, don't be with me."

August held back a scream. "I don't want to be with you, but you keep blackmailing me into staying. If it was up to me, I'd have left you the first time you hit me."

Sean grinned, almost maniacally. "Oh, baby, we both know you wouldn't. You're just like your poor, pathetic, sick mommy. You don't know when to quit, and then you let the abuse happen until it's too late for you to leave."