blood runs red ✓

XLVI

'a scar simply means you were stronger than whatever tried to hurt you'

- unknown

august

"So, the new scars?"

"Do we have to talk about that?"

"You said, 'fuck now, talk later', so.."

August sighed, leaning against Ares on the pull-out bed in his office. "How much did you see?"

"Well, I saw your back and your chest, and I saw a shit ton of faint scars on your back, a few more on your chest and two really prominent ones on both sides of your arm. What happened?"

"I accused him of cheating and he shoved me into a glass table, really hard. I think he forgot his own strength. He didn't mean to hurt me that badly." He instinctively defended his boyfriend. "Anyways, the table smashed into the wall behind me, and I fell back onto it, and well, you saw what happened."

"Did he help you?"

August wondered if he should mention the part where he had to beg Sean to take him to the ER for what happened. He figured he shouldn't; no need to anger Ares. "Yeah. He drove me to the ER and they pulled out all the glass and stitched up my arm."

"Stitches?"

"Yeah, a, er, shard went through my arm. It's okay though, because it only went through the fat and not bone or anything."

"There's barely any fat on your arms, or the rest of your body, August."

August was confused as to why Ares was making a big deal out of nothing. It wasn't even supposed to be a bad comment on himself; he was just trying to make the situation seem less than it was.

"You know what I mean."

"Do I?"

"Do you want me to keep talking or not?" He asked bluntly, not wanting to talk about how Sean comments on his body in negative ways so often that he started to believe his boyfriend's words.

"What's it like? Living with him, I mean."

"He's not always bad." August began. "He's nice to me sometimes. But sometimes I'm just a bit annoying and he's in a bad mood so he just takes it out on me. But it's fine because I usually piss him off or something."

Ares didn't like that answer.

"First, you probably didn't piss him off. Second, even if you did, he shouldn't fucking hit you. I'm a boxer, and I take my frustration out on punching bags, not people. Even if I fight people, I do it with a clear mind or nothing. Hitting people isn't the fucking answer."

"It's different with Sean, he-"

"He what? I don't care if his entire family beat the shit out of him, or he's got a fucking personality disorder or some shit. Nothing fucking excuses hitting you, because you're you- perfect, kind, gentle and he's a fucking douche. You deserve better, August."

"I can't leave him." August said softly.

"I know. I know, doll, and that's not your fault. Whatever he's holding against you isn't your fault." Ares kissed his forehead gently. "I can get rid of him if you want to."

"What the fuck? You cannot say that so nonchalantly-"

"I'm kidding." The boxer laughed. "Maybe. No but genuinely, I can get him to leave you alone. I have contacts too."

"Are you in the Mafia?"

"Are you assuming that because I'm Italian?"

"No. But your dad looks like he could be in the Mafia. He's old and ugly and rich." August joked. "How did you end up like this when he looks like... like a walrus."

Ares laughed again, which was music to August's ears. He loved the sound of the boxer's laugh. It was so perfectly attractive and satisfying to hear.

"My mom was fucking beautiful. I got her looks."

"Do you have a photo of her?"

Of course he did. Ares pulled out his phone and went straight to his favourites, which August thought was adorable. Men who appreciate their mother was a massive green flag.

The photo was old, which was obviously difficult for Ares. August couldn't imagine a world without his mom in it.

The woman in the photo was beautiful. She had long, dark brown hair and tanned skin like Ares', and the greenest eyes August had ever seen. She looked like a Greek goddess, which was ironic, because she was Greek.

"Why did she go for the world's ugliest man?"

"Believe it or not, my dad wasn't always ugly as shit. Well, kinda. The only good thing about him was his hair, before it became grey and ugly. His hair was really fucking dark, like mine. But I don't remember him young. He was absent most my life."

I wish my dad was absent my entire life.

"Does that bother you?"

"Well, no, but yes. I hate him, but I wonder if I wouldn't have hated him if he was just there, you know?"

August nodded. He understood but in the opposite way. He wondered if he wouldn't have hated his dad if he wasn't there, because there'd be nothing to hate. But then again, maybe he still would've hated him for not being there, like Ares did with Leonardo.

"My father made me smoke with him when I was seven." August said quietly. "I hated him for it. It burnt my throat and I felt like I couldn't breathe. But growing up, even though I swore I'd never smoke again, I began to like the burn. When Sean started to hurt me, I stole a pack of his cigarettes and snuck out and ever since, when he got bad, I'd just go out and smoke."

Ares felt like there was more to August's dad than he let on. Any time someone mentioned their dad around August, he would go quiet. Ares knew not to push, though. If August wanted to say more, he would.

"When it gets bad, you can come smoke with me. I'll take care of you, physically, if you want. Pay you back for when you took care of me."

"You already did. With cash."

Ares rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean."

"Shut up." August laughed, but leaned further into Ares' chest. His muscles were surprisingly comfortable to lean against, and having a muscly arm wrapped around him was even more comfortable.

Which he did now, because Ares wrapped an arm around August, running his hand over his stomach. He stopped when August winced.

"Shit, sorry, I forgot there was a bruise there."

"It's alright."

"How'd that happen?"

"He had a practice match, since the season's starting up soon, but you'd know since, you know, it's your season. Anyways, he was mad because this new guy's really good, but not better than you. Sean lost to the new guy and I asked if he was okay, and this was his response." He smiled and tapped the bruise gently.

"Shitty fucking response." Ares murmured.

"Very Sean-like though."

"I will beat the shit out of him if you want."

"Didn't you say hitting people was never the answer?"

Ares scoffed. "This is different. He's a fucking abuser. I think he'd deserve a taste of his own medicine sometime. Make him understand how you fucking feel. Maybe then he'd stop."

"He gets beat up as a career."

"If he got beat outside of the ring..."

"Don't even think about it. Knowing him he'd probably come home and do the same to me." August rolled his eyes.

Ares hated the way his stomach sank hearing that. He wanted things to change for August, but he didn't know how.

But August simply smiled to himself. This was enough for him. The abuse- he could tolerate that if it meant he'd have Ares holding him and offering ways out, even if he couldn't take them.

This was home.