Other Prompts

Other Prompts- The Fag Swag/Cheating The Deck

Prompt: I had a few requests for Ace and Phil meeting up now that they're older
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"I'm just saying, it could've been Delaney who drank your beer," I said as Jack and I walked through the park.

"It could've been Dex, except that Dex wasn't even home," Jack said. "What a coincidence, you were there."

"This is slander," I said.

"I take my beer very seriously," he said.

"Not seriously enough if you don't keep an eye on it around me," I said, snickering.

Jack shoved me and I hit some kid walking by. I pushed myself away from the kid, glaring at Jack.

"Hey! Watch where you're going!" the guy walking with the kid I'd just run into grabbed my shirt and spun me to face him.

I opened my mouth to snap at him, but my words died on my tongue as I looked at the boy. I knew him. I knew him far too well.

A rush of memories swelled up in my mind, because this boy was four years younger than me but he'd still hurt me as a child. Even know, I could see the uncontained violence on his face, a trait he inherited from his abusive mother.

"Phil," I said, the name sounding strange to my ears.

He stared at me, anger draining into childlike confusion. His eyes widened a little as he took in my appearance, and he released my shirt slowly.

"Ace," he said.

Phillip Alan Brooks. He shared a last name with my father, fitting since his got his middle name from my father. My cousin. My aunt's result of fuck buddy who gave her more than she bargained for. Phil grew up fatherless and abused, violent from the time he was a child. I'd always been in charge of keeping him in line when we were with my aunt.

But no more. I wasn't some helpless little boy, afraid to get in trouble. I was 21 years old and I wouldn't let him control my life anymore.

"Well, you certainly didn't grow up well," I said, despite the fact that he had.

Phil glared at me, pure hatred on his face. "You ran away. You upset Uncle Alan. Mom said I'm not allowed to mention you."

"Still living with that bitch?" I said.

"Don't talk shit about my mom!" Phil snapped. "She's a good mom. And you had a good dad."

"A good dad?" I choked out a laugh. "Phil, the guy was a nightmare. He was manipulative and abusive, just like your mom. Winning pair of kids our grandparents got."

"I'm feeling pretty awkward here," Jack said. The kid with Phil nodded in confusion.

"Phil, is everything okay?" the kid asked, reaching out and squeezing Phil's shoulder.

"Shut up Nick!" Phil snapped, pushing his hand off. "This was my cousin."

"Was? I'm not dead yet," I said.

"You left." Phil looked at me with surprisingly betrayed eyes. "You hurt Uncle Alan. Mom and Uncle Alan looked for you for years. She told Uncle Alan to give up on your ungrateful ass, but he's still looking."

"Don't bother telling him you ran into me. Best to let him think I'm dead in a ditch somewhere," I said, trying to play it off as casual. But Phil couldn't ruin this for me. If my dad came snooping around, he might find me.

"I'm not allowed to mention you," Phil repeated.

I eyed him, realizing I ran away only a year younger than Phil was now. But Phil clearly wasn't getting out and away. He was staying in that abusive family.

He was angry and damaged beyond repair. I used to think I was, too.

"You should get away from them," I said, because I could remember those few precious moments when Phil seemed to really care about me. He'd hug me tightly and beg me not to go home just yet. He'd search my bookshelves and ask me to read to him, sitting in my lap as I did so. He'd excitedly watch our car pull into his driveway, running to me the second I opened the car door. He'd joined in hurting me, but he didn't know any better. He was a kid raised in an environment of violence, and he just acted the way he thought others did.

"I'm not leaving!" Phil said, glaring at me.

I shrugged. "It was the best thing I ever did. I was homeless for two years and I was still better off than I was living with my dad."

Phil dropped his glare down to the ground. "You shouldn't have left. We looked everywhere."

"Get yourself out of there before they wreck you, kid," I said, punching him in the arm. Violence was his language. "Jack, let's go."

"He has us over to celebrate your birthday every year," Phil called after me.

I ignored him and kept walking with Jack. I wasn't going to come back to the family, even if Phil wanted me back. I'd always wondered whether or not he cared about me, but I guess he did. I just hoped he got away from our family before they broke him. Not looking back, I walked away from Phil, wishing he'd run away like I had, but not regretting my decision.