The Thing About Glenn Pearson (boyxboy)

Nathan- Twenty-seven

By the time Nathan got home his frustration with his best friend had grew. He kept reminding himself that he was supposed to be at Glenn's house, with Glenn, talking about their relationship, and then hopefully kissing some more, but here he was, pulling his car into the last available spot in his driveway.

He could see Jean sitting on his front porch, his face hidden as he looked down at his phone, and Nate got out of his car and slammed the door. "Hey, asshole, you know you could've knocked right," he said as he approached his friend. "Both of my parents are home. They would have let you in and then I could have-" Nathan cut off when Jean looked up at him, revealing the dark purple bruise that surrounded his left eye. "Jesus".

The dark ring around Jean's eye made the green color of his iris look stunning as he peered up at Nathan, observing him. "Your mouth is swollen," Jean observed and Nate shrugged, reaching his hand up to brush his thumb over his lips.

"I was with Glenn". He took a seat on the porch step next to Jean, who nodded.

"I figured". Jean leaned against his side and dropped his head down onto Nathan's shoulder. When Nate's arm went around his waist, he let out a shaky breath. "Thanks for coming".

"Of course I was going to come". He had been worried about Jean all day, so receiving the call from him had been a relief rather than a burden, he was just frustrated that it came when it did. "Jean, you should call the police". There was no response, and then his friend shook his head against his shoulder.

"I can't do that to my mom," he claimed, and Nate closed his eyes.

"This is hurting your mom, Jean. You think she wants to see you like this? You think it doesn't break her heart?" Nate questioned. He knew Jean's mother. She was weak and scared, sure, but she loved her son more than anything, and in return, Jean loved her just as much.

"Nathan, stop," Jean instructed and Nate's jaw clenched in frustration.

Tense silence hung in the air between them as he tried to think of what to say. "You know I love you, man, but I'm sick of this".

A weight was lifted of Nathan's shoulder as Jean raised his head. "You're sick of this?"

"Yeah," Nate answered, nodding his head as he stood up from the step. "I'm sick of you letting him push you around. You're you Jean. You don't take shit from anybody. You know how many fights I've seen you get into over the years because you don't tolerate bull shit?"

Jeans mouth hung open slightly. "He's my father, Nathan. Are you suggesting that you beat up my father?"

"Well he has no problem-"

Jean cut him off. "He's my father". He dropped his head again, as if defeated. "There's nothing that I can do".

Looking down at his friend, Nathan thought about how small he looked. Yeah, he was over six feet tall and built like an athlete, but in that moment he looked like a child, huddled in a ball, scared. It made what Nathan said next that much more difficult for him. "Then I can't help you, Jean". He began to climb the porch.

Halfway up, a hand wrapped around his calf, stopping him. When he turned around, Jean was looking up at him with very wide eyes. "You're going to make me go back there?"

"This is your fight, Jean. I want no part in it". He pulled his leg free from his best friend and hurried inside, fumbling with his keys for just a moment before the lock clicked.

He didn't look back at Jean as he closed the door between them.

In the living room, Osmond and Carmen were in a compromising position with Carmen on his knees between his other fathers legs. Surprised, they both looked up at him at the sound of the door. "You said you'd be gone for hours".