blood runs red ✓

XX

'laws are spiderwebs through which the big flies pass and the little ones get caught'

- honoré de balzac

august

"Where were you?"

"Something happened to mom. Luisa called me and told me to come over to check if she was alright."

"Why couldn't Luisa do it herself?"

August bit his lip. "She was worried that she would... she would.. you know, so she wanted me to be there just in case. Mom wouldn't want to pass without saying goodbye to me, you know?"

"Mhm."

August turned around, swiftly walking away to his outhouse, only to be yanked back. 

"Where the fuck do you think you're going?"

"Er, to my room?"

Sean glared at him. "Don't be smart with me. I lost my match today, and I do not have the effort for you being.. you."

"Well, you should probably let me go if you don't want to be around me." He was being reasonable, but reasonable still pissed off Sean.

"Shut up." The blond slapped his boyfriend. "You weren't good enough for me. I lost because of you."

"Maybe because you blackmailed me into it. Or maybe it wasn't my fault at all."

"What is with you recently?" Sean pushed August into the glass slider doors. "You've been all cocky and loud. I thought I silenced you. Where's my quiet, stupid mutt gone?"

"I'm not a dog."

"Whatever. You're all confident now. I don't like it." And he showed it by slamming August's head into the glass and punching him till he fell to the ground.

"I'm sorry." There was the immediately apology as a reflex again. He couldn't help it.

"Look who's back." Sean smirked, squatting down and holding boyfriend's face. "What are you sorry for?"

"You know damn well what."

The boxer punched him in the jaw for that. "Answer me."

"I'm sorry for-" August paused, rubbing his jaw in pain. "For talking back."

"Good boy." Sean smiled. "Go get some rest. We have a business party to attend in a few hours. I need you to not look like, well, a mess."

August frowned but nodded regardless, waiting for Sean to leave before he could to. Once his boyfriend had gone, he slowly got up, wincing in pain. How would Ares react to seeing more fresh bruises littering his chest?

"You're not going to a business party looking like that." Sean pulled August by the hair, dragging him upstairs.

"I'm sorry, I tried to look formal." He replied. "I just don't have any suits."

He didn't look awful. He wore black, loose jeans with a blue shirt, and hoped for the best. He even wore plain black trainers instead of his usual converses, trying really hard to look good for Sean's stupid party.

"Not good enough." Sean grabbed August's arm, his grip bruising the poor man's delicate skin, and began to tear off his shirt. 

It made August panic and push himself off, tears in his eyes. "Can you not?!" He rubbed where his arm was squeezed and frowned. "That really hurt."

He also didn't want Sean to dress him, because then the marks Ares left on him would be seen. That would be a whole extra mess and no one had the time for that.

"Sorry baby." The blond pouted. "Put these on. I'll be in the car. Don't forget to lock up."

August thought back to the time he forgot to lock up, and though nothing happened the excessively big house, he still got hurt for the slipup. Sean didn't trust him to lock up for a year after that. 

He looked at the clothes his boyfriend left out and grimaced. Loose black slacks and a white button down shirt, along with a black blazer. It would be nice on him, but he hated formal clothing. It made him feel restricted and boring.

He chose not to take an excessive amount of time on what he was wearing because that would make Sean mad. Everything made that man mad.

August ran his hair through his hands and looked at one of the many mirrors Sean owned. He was a very vain man, always flaunting his looks. 

At least he can.

It wasn't that he wasn't attractive, because he was. It was that Sean was incredibly fucking mean to his boyfriend, and that dulled down his beauty. And the fact that he put down August almost constantly to the point he found it difficult loving himself- that made Sean a much, much uglier person indefinitely.

Once the pair arrived, he realised he fit in with everyone there. Black tie events were events he didn't often attend, because Sean didn't think he was ready for that kinda stuff. Once August was emotionally manipulated to Sean's standards, that's when he was allowed to accompany him. 

He was like a puppet, and the boxer loved it. 

"Ah, Matthews." 

A strange man walked up to the pair, a champagne glass in his hand and a jovial smile on his face. He looked old, greying and honestly disgusting. August immediately decided he didn't like him.

"Mr Cirillo, good to see you."

Cirillo? As in Ares Cirillo? 

August paled.

Is that Ares' dad?!

"Oh, Matthews, my boy." He leaned in for a short hug. "Call me Leonardo. We've been over this multiple times. Such a charmer this one is."

"I call you Leonardo, you call me Sean. Deal?" Sean pulled away, smiling as if this man was his own dad, rather than his rival's.

Leonardo turned to face August, eying him. "Who's he, Sean?"

The Venezuelan boy felt his stomach churn. He didn't care that this was Ares' dad; he was creepy and unnerving and gross.

"He's August."

"And is he your," Leonardo lowered his voice, "boyfriend?" 

Sean's reply was instant, cold. "No."

"It's okay if you are. No one really cares these days. My own son is one of them.. well, you know." The old man looked at August, the slur waiting at the tip of his tongue. "In fact, I saw this one earlier. Sneaking out of the place looking ruffled up. Kids."

August paled. He should've been more careful and looked around. In fact, he thought he saw someone, but the thought of Ares messing around with cigarettes had him in a daze. It still did, but he kept his focus on his boyfriend and the stupid man in front of him.

"Where?" Sean was mad, but his voice was calm. His ability to disguise his pure anger made August want to shrivel up into a ball and die. 

"Outside one of the meeting rooms, I think. Maybe not. You know me, at my age, memory is funny." Leonardo laughed, sipping his champagne freely. The younger man wanted to kick him and pour the bubbly over his head. He didn't know the damage he'd done by mentioning the meeting room.

"Ah, I see. You caught us." The boxer chuckled, taking a sip of his own bourbon. 

August felt the fear claw at his insides, his mouth going dry. He was absolutely fucked.