After the War

"You!"

Mike opened his eyes and scrambled out of the bed to his feet.
He was bound to sleep naked so he stood there shivering in the unheated room as Edward barged in.
Mike instinctively took a step back. The slap still came.

David was long gone, to Australia, leaving nine-year-old Mike a mess of sadness, and making pre-teen Mike a fucked up, confused boy, realising what had really happened.
But it was too late, and Edward had since become violent and imposed a military, impossible rhythm of life to his fourteen year old step-son.
And that did not go without the same obsession as David.

Mike was scared all the time. He knew it wasn't normal but he feared the repercussions on him if he told. On his mother.

And he couldn't deny one thing : sometimes he liked it. The things Edward did to him when he locked the door and the lights were off.
Sometimes... he liked it.
Even if all he wanted was to push Edward away, he grabbed at his mattress and shivered and whimpered in pleasure.

And nobody saw anything.

"YOU!"

Edward grabbed him and slapped him.

"Don't you think I've noticed you staying out with Watkins and those girls?"

"They're just friends." Mike murmured.

"You little faggot. I know you're fucking that Watkins kid. I know you're a little homo. I know you like what I do to you."

"Ian's just my friend! Besides, he likes girls..."

Mike liked boys.
Mike liked boys... Like David liked little boys.
But Mike liked men. And he knew... He believed... That maybe it was because of what David had done to him. But anyway it wasn't like Mike was allowed to masturbate or to look at pictures of those guys... Those guys.
The ones Mike felt like he would actually enjoy having him squirming in pleasure.

Edward didn't like teenage boys. Edward just wanted to punish Mike. And it worked. Most of the time Mike hurt horribly and some other times it felt disturbingly good. And Mike felt bad.

"Yeah, bullshit me! I know what you're doing with all those guys you little queer slut!"

Mike's pupils narrowed and the punch hit him in the face, knocking him down to the floor, and he only saw black.

"We'll see if you're moaning you little faggot."

And he heard nothing else.


Mike looked in the mirror intently.
The grey face, the dull eyes. The floppy hair.
He had taken a few pounds back whoch meant his ribs weren't sticking out disgustingly anymore.
Which was good.
Mike sighed, resting his forehead on the glass, but didn't close his restless eyes. He tried not to close them or he would fall from his tiring.
He slept three hours a night ; the rest was just nightmares or the fear of falling asleep because of them.
Mike was still strained and weak ; just a little better than he was when the child protection department went to rescue him from the house he hated after he'd finally spilled all to the school nurse.
Just a little less weak than he was when they found him lying on the floor, getting the shit beaten out of him.

Mike didn't like the shelter. But Mike preffered it to the house of his nightmares.

He came down at the gym part of the center where they ought to go for the self-defense lesson.

Stuart came in and Mike's blood stopped flowing again.
Those blue eyes...
Oh dear those eyes.

He did all he could during the lesson but he felt a little weak and besides he couldn't look at Stuart.

And again, Stuart went to sit with him.

"Hey, you okay?" He asked softly.

Mike didn't look at him. Oh yeah, the ground.
Stuart sighed.

"You're 17, is that it?"

Mike nodded slightly.

"When did it start happening to you?"

Mike froze again, and a mix of fear and envy ran into his very bones.
He let a silence pass, during which he pondered if he should tell Stuart or not, tell or not, tell or not, tell-

"I was eight."

"I was ten."

Mike turned his head, and their eyes connected brutally. And it was like the stare could never break.

"It was my stepfather. Nobody believed me when I spilled it. So he continued. I... Slipped into a depression."

Mike frowned, touched. A big guy like Stuart? It was hard to imagine him weak, and hurt, and small. But the eye contact continued.

"But it gets better." Stuart said. "It really does."

Blue, blue eyes...

"You don't have to feel guilty for the needs you have..."

They were so deep and dark, and Mike... Oh, Mike was falling through them and...

Mike violently snapped out and felt wrong in the belly. Oh no. Not again.

"Wanting to have sex is normal. It's not because of what happened and it's not the only way to be loved either -"

Mike's stomach suddenly heaved, and he threw up on the ground.
He briefly glanced at a dumbstruck Stuart, and then, just ran away.