The Definition Of Family

Chapter 1

The Eriksons are a wealthy family. They have a reputation to maintain. Alex knows this, of course; he's been told it every day, every hour, every minute since before he can remember. But it wasn't enough, apparently, to stop him from getting into this position in the first place. It's not good to be found with another boy's dick in his mouth in his family's world.

It would have been fine, too, had it been another rich, well-named heir and not a cute stranger who claims to know a friend of a friend. A cute stranger who says things like "damn, pretty boy, the things I could do to that mouth of yours if you'd let me-", goes to a public school, and doesn't have a reputation outside of said public school. Oh god, Alex's mother is going to kill him. He knew it; he had had a terrible feeling about this whole thing since he pulled down the kid's pants and he knows now that the moment the other boy (Ron, John, he couldn't even remember) leaves the house Alex will already be cold in his grave.

"What did you say your name was?" Mrs. Erikson's voice sends shudders through both of the boys.

"Tom, miss. Tom Carey." The boy whispers, his eyes wide at the intimidating woman before him.

"Leave my house, Mr. Carey, before I'm forced to call security." Her voice is cold, detached.

He nods, blindly grabbing for his shirt and running past her as Alex whispers, "I'm so sorry."

His mother glares at him- at how he's still kneeling on the floor, at how there's fluid dripping from the corner of his mouth, at how his hair is sticking up in every direction. "Alexander."

"Yes, Mrs. Erikson?" Alex's mouth runs dry.

"You should be ashamed."

"I understand."

"You clearly do not understand." She spits, "You will ruin our family! Do you realize what it will do to our reputation?"

"I'm sorry."

"You are very clearly not! God, my own son-" She composes herself, turning away and clasping her hands behind her back. "I'll give you a week to get over this phase of yours. I don't need a little faggot taking over my household."

Alex's blood freezes in his veins. He wants to say something. He wants to act up and make a big deal of this... But he guesses that keeping quiet is the one thing his upbringing is good for. He watches her back as she leaves, only going limp when the door slams closed.

He wants the words to sting, if only to prove that he had some fraction of the love a child should have for their parent. He knows, however, that she doesn't love him like a mother should. He has known since he was a child, even though he was innocent he understood that most kids aren't siphoned off to a new nanny each week, and they aren't "granted visits" to their parents for a few minutes a day. They aren't told that it is improper to call their parents mom and dad. So the empty hole where her turned back and harsh words should ache pains Alex more than the actions themselves.

He looks down at his hands, watching them lay pale and shaky as they lay palm-up in his lap.

And then he makes a decision.

Those same hands, now steady with determination, stuff clothes into his suitcase. He counts the money he has stashed under his bed and hopes that the couple hundred there will be enough. Everything he needs is eventually packed away and the near-empty bag is tucked into a corner so it won't be noticed by anyone passing by. He scurries out of the room after brushing his hair, nearly leaping down the stairs so he can take the plate of food set out in the kitchen without seeing his parents. Moments later, after his plate is scraped clean and set beside the door, he hefts the bag through the window.

Alex pauses,his legs heavy with finality. "If I leave, I won't have to deal with them. And I'll have more than enough money if I withdraw as much as I can before they notice I'm gone, especially if I use my bank account. It'll be fine! I'll be fine."

Dangling over the edge, he braces his arms on the window frame as he continues to mutter to himself.

"Unless I'm robbed. Oh god, what if I'm robbed? What if I can't find somewhere to stay? This is stupid! This is so stupid, I'm so stupid. I can't do this." Alex twists away, tucking his knees under his chin while his spine presses against the wall. He shivers when cool air brushes over his head. "But what if I never leave? Would it be much better?"

"No, I already threw down my bag. I have to go. I can't be in this place anymore. I can't deal with her anymore."

With that, he finally drops over the window sill and lands with a heavy thud on the roof of the balcony. He clutches the handle of the bag now beside him, stumbling as his feet hit the ground. Alex scrambles away before his parents can see him, his heart pounding out of his chest, and pushes through the trees standing guard around the property.

The road is smooth and lights dotting the way guide him towards Wilmington. The town is small, but the local inn is decent. "Follow the Ausable south and you'll find your way, love," a familiar voice whispers from the depths of his mind. He can't place it to a name or face, however.

After several hours he finds his way, stumbling through the door of a little coffee shop off the main road. He smiles wearily at the polite cashier, buying a hot chocolate before slumping down in a booth. Alex takes tentative sips of the drink, eyes drifting steadily closed until, finally, sleep claims him.

Edited as of 7/27