Hide the Truth From My Eyes

Stu's POV

I heard them going about me. 
They thought because I'm gay I have no ears, maybe? Or did they want me to hear what they were saying?
I felt like puking from all the indirect insults, all the preconceived ideas. All leaking through my brain like a venom. It was vile.

I could very well have punched their face in though. I went to the gym a lot with Mike and Lee. Jamie preferred Muay-Thai. Ian lifted weights, hence his massive arms. Sean did nothing of that usually. He ran a lot though, so much that usually when he came home from his sprints he vomited. 
They were here, pretending they were the manly men. Because having dissolved your muscles in sugar is manly maybe. 

If I listened to them I wasn't entirely a man. I wasn't even entirely a human. 
Every insult they spat was a punch to my belly.
Faggot. Cocksucker. Arse licker.
I could go back to getting fucked up the arse. I wasn't normal. I was a genetic alienation. A mental health case. I should just man up and find a girlfriend. I was just good to lick people's balls. Apparently they were sure that I wanted them to fuck me. That it was all I wanted. A cock in my arse. Or in my mouth. Whore. Slut. Bitch.
I couldn't think by myself. I had to let others take control. Just a proof more I wasn't an intelligent human being.

Words hurt.

Words hurt way more than having your face punched in.
They don't understand. Those people can't love. It's impossible. If they ever saw the one they loved white as a sheet, face stained in blood and living by machines, they would understand.
How I felt for Mike was the best thing I'd ever felt -- and will ever feel.
They didn't understand that I can feel. That's the problem.
Maybe a punch in their faces...

--

I came home before everyone. 3 PM. I sat on the sofa and just stared at nothing. 
The insults were still in my head. Mike too. 
On the fireplace, pictures were put.

Jamie and Lee cuddled together, a few years ago. Lee had short, mid long blonde-and-brown hair, a white  necklace that just wrapped around his long slender thing of a neck rather than hung from it, and one of those shirts of his with large pants. Jamie still had his piercing, makeup and peroxide strands of hair. His head was resting on Lee's chest and Lee was smiling this weird little smile with this weird little look he does when you take a picture of him. That was in Pontypridd, in the Ynysengharad park. We almost lived there, we were always hanging out in that park.

Sean as a student, in his uniform, Ian hugging him like he was a teddy bear. That was when Sean was 15 and Ian 18. Ian was already studying in graphic arts school. Sean was younger though.  Thinking about it they had been fucking since Sean was 14. They were already illegal. And gay, if that wasn't enough. And when they started dating, Sean was 13 going on his 14 and homosexuality still hadn't been removed from the WHO list of mental diseases. Sean's parents kicked him out when they discovered. He was 14. We took him in. 

There was this picture of Mike, with me straddling him on a beach of South Wales. Can't remember which one exactly.
On the coffee table, there was another pic of us two. This one knotted my stomach. Always did. It was token at Mike's sister's wedding. And oh joy she married my cousin. Both our families were there. My father and I had a quite unpleasant talk, and things got very fucking ugly.

The door suddenly opened,  and Jamie burst in, crying. 
I turned towards him as he slumped onto the floor, sobbing. 

"Jamie?! Jamie, what's up man?"

He shook his head and hid his face into his hands. I stood up and went to crouch near him.

"Jamie?" I asked softly.

He sniffled, let out another sob.

"Jamie?"

"I-I can't do this."

I rubbed his back and pulled him into a hug.

"Me neither, bud."

--

Each time I look at that photography my guts wrench and twist.
The reception was at my uncle's. The only Richardson that ever made something of his life : he was full of dough.
And here we were in our cheap tuxedos. 

The look on my mother's face when I arrived with Mike. It hit me in the chest.
The worse was maybe the love bite I had on my neck, perfectly visible despite my button up white shirt.

When they saw it... It's like they imagined me fucking with Mike, I guess that's not really a pleasure, even for me it was embarrassing. 
I was as polite and civil as possible. Mike and I didn't even hold hands. 

But sure, they were all looking at us like we were some kind of freaks. I tried to talk to my uncle but he ignored me. I remember being pretty pissed off as I was coming to his ass of a son's marriage even if I knew the family hated me. Then I realised that no one would talk to me, and no one would talk to Mike, and we didn't want to approach our parents. Mike tried to get to his sister before she went to prepare but he missed her.

What I did, I got so angry, I dragged Mike in my uncle's bathroom, undressed him and we had noisy, raging sex on the floor.
Bad one, it was the bathroom near the room where the bride was getting ready. 
She basically walked on us fucking. 

I can't remember what happened exactly but we dressed back up and my father went to attack me -- Mike's was waiting to do the same.
He screamed every insult under the sun at me. He said I had sullied the vows of marriage the bride and the groom had made with my "fucking sins". He repeated me I didn't deserve living. That he should have killed me at birth. I don't exactly remember, I was in orgasm denial, after all.

What's sure is I started to fight him for having called Mike a dick-hungry slut. Someone even attempted to stab Mike with a bread knife while I raged against my father. Mike had a slash on his left cheek, had been thrown to the ground and insulted too. By our own families. I remember him, holding his bleeding face, as I helped him to stay standing, and screamed my heart out to my parents.

I remember calling them homophobic and nazis and sometimes I wish there were stronger words to express what I felt about them. You don't imagine how much it hurts, those people you loved and cared about rejecting, attacking you.

But the thing I have the clearer memory of was standing there, with Mike half out of it, all of them circling us and me turned towards my parents. 
I screamed at them they were all fucking monsters, all fucking animals for what they did to us. I yelled they were our parents, that they were supposed to be there when we needed them the most. They hated us because we loved each other. We weren't hurting anyone. 
I know I cried. It was impossible not to cry. 

I dragged my poor Mike out, and we went back home. I disinfected his wound and we went to bed. He murmured sweet things in my ear all night to make me look at him and smile.
Since that day I've never seen my parents again yet.