Confessions
Chapter Two
Zacky anxiously fumbled in his pocket, fingers closing around the smooth, cool metal. He still gripped tightly onto Brian’s hand, not quite wanting to let go yet. The taller boy shifted closer and pressed his lips against the soft strands of hair that brushed across Zacky’s left temple.
“You okay?” He was answered with a timid nod, letting Zacky push the door open. Brian glanced at his watch, “I don’t think anyone’s going to be back here for another ten minutes. Ish.” When Zacky looked up to him with a confused frown, Brian elaborated. “We’d kinda been checking back here every hour, in case someone found you or you came back. We were all shit scared.” He admitted the last part quietly, trying not to dwell on some of the initial reactions. Johnny’s was the clearest in his mind – his panic-stricken eyes and sharp, juddering breaths. The small boy had been so worried that something bad had happened. Matt had put an arm around him, rubbing his back and calming him down before they set off to look for Zacky.
He shook the image from his head and dragged Zacky inside. The house was quiet and Brian steered him towards the front room where they both collapsed onto the sofa. Brian’s arm fell protectively across Zacky’s shoulders and he kissed Zacky’s forehead. A sharp intake of breath made him pull back, the younger boy’s face contorted.
“Zee, what’s wrong?” Gentle concern flickered in Brian’s warm eyes as he leant forwards to brush Zacky’s fringe away from his forehead, his fingers working with a careful concern. The dark strands were damp and sticky, from what Brian initially assumed was sweat. He cursed loudly as he exposed the pale skin, surprised that he hadn’t noticed anything before. “Why didn’t you mention this earlier?” Zacky shrugged.
“I didn’t think it mattered much. It stopped being really painful. It’s kinda… dull aching.” He bit his lip, playing down the pain to ease Brian’s worries. “I just hit my head when I fell over, that’s all.” The explanation was tacked on for Brian’s benefit, hollow and only semi-truthful. Brian, however, knew what Zacky really meant; that he was pushed.
“C’mon.” He led Zacky upstairs, pulling him into the bathroom and making him sit on the edge of the bath, despite his feeble protests. “I’m not letting you just sit there with blood on your face.”
“But it’s not that bad. There’s not that much blood, even though head wounds are s’posed to bleed loads.” Brian shrugged, fumbling in the Baker’s oddly familiar medicine cabinet for cotton wool, disinfectant.
As he was cleaning his boyfriend’s cut, he heard footsteps and the anxious voice of Mrs Baker. He yelled that he was upstairs and that Zacky was with him. Their relieved laughter made Zacky’s shudder, guilt rippling down his spine. Brian whispered some reassurance to him just before his mother saw him. Instantly, she noticed the injury.
“What happened, are you okay?” The questions came out jumbled, as though they had been hanging on her mind for the past few hours. Mr Baker hovered behind her shoulder, gently patting his wife’s shoulder as some kind of reassuring gesture. Zacky’s head dropped down as he tried to organise his thoughts enough to speak.
“I’m alright, mom. It’s just a little cut, it’s not that bad, don’t worry.” The guilt knotted in his stomach, twisting and writhing. He couldn’t tell his parents about the fight, but he didn’t know what excuse he would have for not coming home. “I, uh, tripped. Smacked my head.” He swallowed. “I didn’t come home earlier ‘cause some guys from school were being jerks and I just couldn’t be around anyone. I – I’m sorry, I didn’t really think.” To his surprise, his mother bought his half-hearted explanation.
“You had us all so worried.” Zacky nodded at her words; he knew that. His arms trembled as he wrapped them around her in an awkward hug, mumbling more apologies into her shoulder. Brian hung back from the whole ordeal, confused as to why Zacky hadn’t told the whole story and wondering whether there was something more that he was hiding.
“You okay?” He was answered with a timid nod, letting Zacky push the door open. Brian glanced at his watch, “I don’t think anyone’s going to be back here for another ten minutes. Ish.” When Zacky looked up to him with a confused frown, Brian elaborated. “We’d kinda been checking back here every hour, in case someone found you or you came back. We were all shit scared.” He admitted the last part quietly, trying not to dwell on some of the initial reactions. Johnny’s was the clearest in his mind – his panic-stricken eyes and sharp, juddering breaths. The small boy had been so worried that something bad had happened. Matt had put an arm around him, rubbing his back and calming him down before they set off to look for Zacky.
He shook the image from his head and dragged Zacky inside. The house was quiet and Brian steered him towards the front room where they both collapsed onto the sofa. Brian’s arm fell protectively across Zacky’s shoulders and he kissed Zacky’s forehead. A sharp intake of breath made him pull back, the younger boy’s face contorted.
“Zee, what’s wrong?” Gentle concern flickered in Brian’s warm eyes as he leant forwards to brush Zacky’s fringe away from his forehead, his fingers working with a careful concern. The dark strands were damp and sticky, from what Brian initially assumed was sweat. He cursed loudly as he exposed the pale skin, surprised that he hadn’t noticed anything before. “Why didn’t you mention this earlier?” Zacky shrugged.
“I didn’t think it mattered much. It stopped being really painful. It’s kinda… dull aching.” He bit his lip, playing down the pain to ease Brian’s worries. “I just hit my head when I fell over, that’s all.” The explanation was tacked on for Brian’s benefit, hollow and only semi-truthful. Brian, however, knew what Zacky really meant; that he was pushed.
“C’mon.” He led Zacky upstairs, pulling him into the bathroom and making him sit on the edge of the bath, despite his feeble protests. “I’m not letting you just sit there with blood on your face.”
“But it’s not that bad. There’s not that much blood, even though head wounds are s’posed to bleed loads.” Brian shrugged, fumbling in the Baker’s oddly familiar medicine cabinet for cotton wool, disinfectant.
As he was cleaning his boyfriend’s cut, he heard footsteps and the anxious voice of Mrs Baker. He yelled that he was upstairs and that Zacky was with him. Their relieved laughter made Zacky’s shudder, guilt rippling down his spine. Brian whispered some reassurance to him just before his mother saw him. Instantly, she noticed the injury.
“What happened, are you okay?” The questions came out jumbled, as though they had been hanging on her mind for the past few hours. Mr Baker hovered behind her shoulder, gently patting his wife’s shoulder as some kind of reassuring gesture. Zacky’s head dropped down as he tried to organise his thoughts enough to speak.
“I’m alright, mom. It’s just a little cut, it’s not that bad, don’t worry.” The guilt knotted in his stomach, twisting and writhing. He couldn’t tell his parents about the fight, but he didn’t know what excuse he would have for not coming home. “I, uh, tripped. Smacked my head.” He swallowed. “I didn’t come home earlier ‘cause some guys from school were being jerks and I just couldn’t be around anyone. I – I’m sorry, I didn’t really think.” To his surprise, his mother bought his half-hearted explanation.
“You had us all so worried.” Zacky nodded at her words; he knew that. His arms trembled as he wrapped them around her in an awkward hug, mumbling more apologies into her shoulder. Brian hung back from the whole ordeal, confused as to why Zacky hadn’t told the whole story and wondering whether there was something more that he was hiding.
♠ ♠ ♠
Word count: 694.Took longer to get this up than I had thought it would, sorry. I'm working on something else as well (a Matt/Johnny story) which should be up soon, hoepfully.
THoughts?