Shattered

Confessions

Mayson pictured above

A/N: This story is still in the (very) rough draft stage. This is a template to getting the story out of my head. There will be many revisions, edits, rewrites, etc. There will be graphic scenes of extreme child abuse, some based off true events of children I've known. If this will trigger anything, makes you uncomfortable or anything of the sort, I suggest you use extreme caution or turn back now. Thanks for reading. -Mac.

Jonathan stared at the broken man before him, his heart breaking, as it always seemed to, when this particular man was involved. "Look, I know you've been hurt. I know. But that's not me, Mayson. That's not me." His voice cracked the want and need to express this ache, this need for only him.

Mayson looked into the eyes of the man that he'd known so long he knew more of his secrets than his own. A tear slipped passed his eyelid and he looked away. He hated crying in front of him.

Mayson bit his lip hard trying to reign in his raging emotions. He was losing that battle and he knew it, but he couldn't let the winds sweep him up. Not yet.

Mayson gasped when he felt soft fingers along his cheek, and cursed himself for flinching away in a sudden flurry of fear now so ingrained into him, he didn't realize he'd done it until it was too late.

"Mayson, I'm not gonna hurt you."

He was close again. In his personal space. He knew he was safe but his heart was pounding exponentially behind his ribs. He nodded, not trusting himself to speak as he felt those soft fingers again.

"It's okay."

"Jonathan."

Jonathan stopped his movements hearing the fear in Mayson's plea.

Mayson looked at him, his best friend of so many years, not bothering to hide the emotions in his eyes or the tears on his cheeks.

Slowly Jonathan brought his hand up not missing Mayson's darting eyes from his hand to his face. Jonathan stopped midway, his voice whispered, his eyes unwavering.

"I'm not gonna hurt you. I'm not gonna hurt you."

In a moment of trust and needed intimacy of nonviolent hands, Mayson didn't stop him again. Jonathan kept close eyes on this beautiful, fragile creature in front of him, not wanting to scare him into running, and wiped away Mayson's tears.

"Look at me, Mayson," he gently commanded. He complied. "I've known you since we were seventeen years old. I fell in love with you before I even knew what love was. I've...watched you go from asshole to fuckboy and back again and...I always wondered why? Why couldn't you just love me back?"

Jonathan's eyes blurred and cleared as his tears met Mayson's at their feet.

"I'd never treat you like these assholes. I'd never cheat on you. God, I'd never fucking hit you, Mayson, ever."

Jonathan pulled Mayson into his chest, wrapping his arms around him and placing a small kiss atop his chestnut hair. He smelled like strawberries and coconuts and his own unique scent that drove Jonathan crazy.

"If I'd have known he was doing that to you, Mayson...if I'd have known...please believe me....I..." He trailed off and shook his head, his eyes sad and overflowing. He ran his fingers lightly through Mayson's hair. "I noticed things...I had to of...I'd ask if you were okay 'cause you were acting strange...jumpy...but I never pushed you for an answer. I should have stopped him sooner. I'm sorry, Mayson. God, I'm so sorry."

Jonathan held Mayson's face gently in his hands and studied it. He was beautiful, even with the faint bruises still showing up against pale skin.

Lightly he kissed his forehead, his lips lingering a moment too long.