Don't Fall Apart On Me Tonight

I don't really understand my obsession with Killians abs and I guess it doesn't really matter. Well, it doesn't matter to me, at least. 

I'm seated next to my nana, watching Killian play soccer with my younger cousins. I can't tear my eyes away from him as he dribbles the ball between his feet down the makeshift field and into the makeshift goal. He throws his hands up in victory, giving me a clear view of the muscles ripping under his skin. 

I feel a hand on my shoulder and turn to face my nana. She smiles knowingly and hangs me a napkin. "You might want to wipe the drool from your face before someone notices."

My eyes widen and I wipe at my mouth and narrow my eyes at her playfully. "Haha. You're so funny, I can't stand it."

She pushes my shoulder and winks at me. "I might be old but I'm not blind quite yet. I saw you staring at him." 

I feel a blush creep up my neck and settle in my cheeks. "I wasn't staring." I mumble.

"Sweetie, don't lie to me. You're forgetting that I know you better than God himself." She scolds. 

"Okay, I was staring." I admit. "So what?" 

Nana scoffs and rolls her pale blue eyes. "It certainly doesn't matter to me but you won't want your mother catching you."

I hadn't thought of that and the mere idea strikes fear into my very soul. My mother can be extremely vicious especially if you're doing something she doesn't approve of. Me, her openly gay son, staring at my openly gay friend would only result in disaster.

I turn back to glance at Killian and notice that he isn't anywhere in sight. "Where'd he....?"

"Inside, honey. He slipped in there when you weren't watching." Nana says.

I send her an appreciative smile before standing and making my way into the house. A sinking feeling develops in the put of my stomach as I get closer. Clearly something isn't right.

By the time I reach the back door I'm practically running. When I step into the kitchen I see that my fears are rational. Killian stands wide-eyed, pressed tightly against the counter. 

My mom is practically growling at him, whisk in one hand and whipped cream in the other. "-all your fault. If it weren't for you, Chretion would still be my little angel. You just had to come along and fuck-"

"Mom," I cut her off. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" 

She turns to me and blinks, a scowl set firmly on her lips. "Don't use that language with me, young man." 

I ignore her and press on. "If you have a problem with me, take it up with me, not him."

"He's the one who turned you into a faggot." She says simply. "My problem is with him." 

I stare at her in disbelief, unable to form words for a solid thirty seconds. Seconds that seem like hours. "Killian didn't do anything. You will not talk to him like that. He's been there for me when you refused to acknowledge my existence. You don't know shit about me so stop pretending like you do." 

"I don't know shit about you? I fucking carried you in my uterus for nine fucking months and I have the scars to prove it." She growls.

"That's the only thing that links us as mother and son. You think you know me? Did you know that I don't come home at night? That I stay out and drink and fucking shoot up? That I fuck random strangers to get my fix? Do you know that I got drunk out of my mind the other night? Do you know about the bottle of whiskey in my nightstand? Did you know that?" I'm yelling now but I don't care. Mom stares at me wide eyed, mouth agape like a fish. "Did you know that Killian takes care of me? That he's the only reason you haven't had to plan my funeral yet? So don't fucking yell at him!" 

"Chretion, I-" 

"No, mom, you didn't. I bet you wish I actually had killed myself by now. And you know what? Maybe that's not such a bad idea." With that I storm out of the house and away from the woman who gave birth to me. 

Halfway down my driveway I'm yanked back by a hand around my wrist. I twirl around and look down at a wide eyed Killian. "Kil, I'm so sorry you had to go through that. I should have known better." 

He waves me off and places his hands on either side of my neck. "Tell me you didn't mean that."

His eyes dare me to lie to him. "I'm so sorry." I repeat, looking away from him. "I just- I need to think." I take his hands away from my neck and place them at his sides. "I don't know what I'm going to do but I don't want you to worry about it, okay?" 

Killian looks as if he's about to cry and it absolutely kills me but I don't know what else to do. "Please, Chresh. Please." And even though he doesn't say what he wants I already know. 

"I'll call you when I figure it out." I promise, not answering his silent request. I back away from him slowly before turning and walking the rest of the way down the street.