BRANCE + RINNEY

torn shoes, my childhood was ripped apart

'It will take a while
To make you smile
Somewhere in these eyes
I'm on your side'

the song b listens to on repeat. (part 2!)
-

Bruce held Vance's hands in his own, ignoring the wounds on his hands and scars on his face as he whimpered back tears. Bruce removed a hand to wipe at the glistening tracks of sadness that lined the other boy's face, gently smiling when Vance looked at him with tired eyes.

"Are you tired? We can sleep."
"Please."
-
Bruce knew that Vance had a hard time at home. He knew that the boy always thought the worst of himself, believing the lies and worries of others that populated their small town. But, in Bruce's heart, there was a special place for the blonde.

Back in middle school, Vance had gotten in a really bad fight. He had broken another kid's nose and arm. Everyone had talked about it, ranging from those who had seen it firsthand to the adults who spent their time sulking in bars and in alleyways. What they didn't know however, was how terrible Vance had felt about it afterwards.

He had trapped himself in his room, away from the world and hurtful comments. His mom had tried to check in with him, a tone of concern and worry lingering through the doorway as she placed her head against it and sobbed. Vance wanted to get out of bed, comfort his mom as she'd do for him.

But he just couldn't.

Bruce had shown up at his window a short number of days later, a frown on his face as he peered through the dim glass. He had knocked. Three times to be exact. Vance had jumped, frightened by the sudden noise. His eyes moved around the room, stopping once they landed on the boy behind his window.

They hadn't talked much before then, only some hello's and good morning's on days where Vance could be bothered to talk to someone other than his mom. He faintly remembered giving Bruce his address, something to get the boy and his annoying persistence of having a conversation away from him. Just his luck for it to be used against him instead.

Bruce had, inevitably, been let into Vance's room. He'd taken one look at the blonde and decided. Decided that the blonde was now stuck with him, as was he with the boy.

Vance was never big on touch, unless it came from his mother. Bruce had learned that the hard way, having tried to reach a hand out to the blonde and instead watched as the boy stumbled backwards and screamed. He hadn't known what he had done to cause such a reaction, though when the blonde's mom told him of the man no longer in the picture and his harsh attitude, it gave him some sort of idea.

It took Vance a full five months to be okay with Bruce touching him, showering him with affection as much as humanly possible. There would still be times where Vance would reel back, having seen his father's hands instead of Bruce's. He'd scream scream scream until, eventually, he'd curl into himself and cry instead. Bruce would be able to touch him then, arms wrapping loosely around the other boy's frame with gentleness. Vance would nuzzle his head against the boy's chest, ignoring the tears that fell down his face in a rush of air. Bruce would hold him until he was calm enough to stand, though they'd end up taking a nap afterwards almost every time.

Vance believed that Bruce would leave him at some point. Whether it be because he was bored, or because he was just too tired of having to care for him, he'd end up leaving. A year into their friendship, Vance was confused on why his thoughts hadn't happened yet.

His emotions were all over the place, and that was never good. He didn't hurt anyone, having fought against the aspect of it seeing as it wouldn't help him gain anything but guilt.

His emotions crashed, spiraled into a tornado, when he had arrived home and found Bruce in his room, a smile on his face as if he'd just seen the best thing in the world. And, who knows, maybe he had.

Vance never found out if the thought was true as he had started yelling, screaming, with tears in his eyes and a raspy voice. He didn't know the exact reason on why he was yelling, though he faintly remembered hearing himself utter the words 'still my friend'.

He had expected Bruce to yell back, angry and upset that Vance was most likely cursing at him and being mean for no good reason. What he didn't expect, was for Bruce to let him yell. Let him wear himself out until he was in that weak state again, hands curled around his legs as he rocked back and forth and cried cried cried.

Bruce had walked towards him not long after, replacing the blonde's hands with his own.

Suddenly, Vance was a child again, being comforted by his mother as his father screamed and broke glassware. His cries were overlapped with the sound of a drunken voice, mumbling something about his mother giving birth at the 'wrong damn time'.

Bruce stroked a hand through Vance's hair, pulling him away from his thoughts and into reality.

"You're here Vance. I'm here."

Vance's hand was placed on Bruce's heart, bumping along to the beat of it. It only took a matter of seconds for the blonde to calm down, tears dried and hands no longer shaking.

And, yeah, he could admit then and there that he was glad to have Bruce.
Because, deep down, he knew he needed him around.
-
Bruce tucked the comforter under Vance's chin and pulled him close, muttering into his ear some sort of lullaby. Vance was asleep soon after that, the sound of Bruce letting out a soft 'I love you' going unheard.