A Love Like War

“What in God’s name is going on in here?” My father’s voice boomed, shaking me to the core.
“What the hell are you doing?” My father screamed, marching in and ripping him off of me. “No son of mine is a faggot!” He spat in my face, sending the first of many blows to my naked and vulnerable body. He had been oblivious to the bruising on my hips and the quick escape of the man once on top of me, stealing my innocence.
“S-something in my eye, sir.” I stuttered, the first thing coming to mind. My father’s fist clenched as if prepared to strike me, but he glanced toward Vic and ignored his impulse.
“Only paid a visit to make sure this one hadn’t tried to rid of the runt of the pack.” My father asked, slowly peeling his hateful glare on me to his glare on Vic. His slight chuckle of a joke made me shiver, Vic also appearing uneasy.
“Everything is fine here, General.” Vic nodded, saluting my father. I almost wanted to push his hand away.
General Quinn simply raised an eyebrow, before turning and leaving the room. I finally exhaled and turned straight into the bed, laying down under the sheets and turning on my side facing the wall.
“Bathroom.” Vic spoke minutes later before getting up and leaving. With my eyes still open, I blinked at the wall and let out the sigh I was holding in. My mind began to attack me, memories and insults spinning in my head so fast I was beginning to lose the ability to breathe. What had I done earlier, and what would have happened if we weren’t interrupted? I wasn’t sure whether or not to be angry or relieved. One thing I was sure of, though, was that sleep was not a possibility tonight.
**
The day went by painfully. I held my breath and pushed myself through the drills and cardio our training involved. I never once took my eyes away from what I was focusing on, doing everything I could to focus on everything moment by moment. I looked away from all surroundings, with the feeling inside that the slightest thing could made me crumble. But now that it was lunch time, it was all going to change.
With my tray in hand I walked through the cafeteria with my head down. I found the first empty table and sat, eyes on whatever concoction of a soup was on my tray.
I looked up to the sound of laughter, seeing a grinning Jaime and flushed Vic at a table painfully near mine. Vic looked hesitant when his glance met mine and I couldn’t blame him, not with the move I pulled last night.
Faggot.
The two of them continued to laugh, Jaime’s hand on Vic’s arm. Vic’s body, turned to Jaime’s, appeared to lean in closer and closer with every passing second. Jaime whispered in Vic’s ear and the boy nodded, clearly interested in whatever Jaime had said… or proposed. Inside I felt enraged and had a complete loss of appetite from the scene in front of me. My chair scrapping the floor, I got up, leaving my tray behind, and stalked out the cafeteria. As I was about to turn the corner into the corridor of my apartment, I felt a large and rough hand grasp my shoulder. The feeling made me shrink.
“Missed you, pretty boy.”
“Peter.” I seethed.
He smirked, cockily. “I never thought I’d see you here, Quinn. Since when do you have the power to fight back?” He winked.
“Get your goddamn hand off of me.” I whispered through clenched teeth.
“Looks like someone gained a few, eh?” Peter released his hand, chuckling.
“Leave me alone, Peter.” I said finally, moving to pass him. But his hand touched my shoulder again, making me seize up.
“I’ll get you alone again, don’t you worry a thing, pretty boy.”
*

VIC’S POV
It was a few hours after supper when I found myself wandering the fields, kicking dust and sighing. My mind felt like a ticking time bomb, something about this tour of duty was weighing on me.
Or someone.
Shaking my head and staring up at the dark abyss above me, I began my journey back inside and to the “library” we have stationed. In the library is about 10 books, 8 of which are so painfully outdated the pages fall out when opened. The library was empty, to my luck, as I walked in. I sat down at one of two old school desks, reaching out for a page and a pencil. With a long breath in, I began to write the letter to my brother I’d promised to him weeks ago.
Michael,
It was ten minutes of staring at a blank page. Nothing on my mind but the boy waiting in the bunks.
Knowing it was the only way to unblock my mind, I began to write.
I think I’ve met someone.
And so it began. I continued to write and write, until my hand felt cramped and I filled more pages than I did through high school. Signing my name in my chicken scratch scrawl at the bottom of the page, I folded the letter (or so-called novel) in half and shoved it into an envelope. I scrawled our address on the front before giving it one last look and plunking it into the metal mail box. I knew I couldn’t wait forever, so I began my too short walk back to the bunks.
As I reached our hallway, I paused in my tracks outside of Kellin and I’s door. The quiet sound of broken breath and ragged sighs startled me, something I’d heard many times before but knowing the voice behind them broke my heart into a million icy pieces.
“Kellin?” I asked quietly, leaning into the doorway. His head shot up from his hands, eyes rimmed red and cheeks stained with tracks.
“Shit.” I heard him curse under his breath, violently wiping at his cheeks. I found myself sitting on his bed, the tips of his toes wiggled underneath my thighs. I felt him tense at the closeness, but I paid no mind as I reached for his hand.
“What’s the matter?” I asked softly, running my thumb over his hand. I felt him try to pull his hand away and I held on tighter, his eyes meeting mine.
“N-nothing.” He shuttered, looking away as he brushed away a new set of falling tears.
“No, you’ll tell me.” I said more sternly. It was eating my insides, knowing he was in pain. Did he miss his mother, someone back home waiting for him?
He whispered a small word, one I couldn’t catch. “Kellin, please.”
“Y-you.” He said, barely audible. Shock was clear on my face.
“Me? Why?” I asked, completely taken aback. Nothing came to mind.
“You want to switch out from this room, don’t you? You don’t want to stay in here with the General’s faggot son. You must hate me, I’m dis-dis….disgusting!” He began to sob, pulling away completely and throwing himself on the bed like a shaking, crying 5 year old boy.
And I couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Don’t laugh at me!” He whisper-shouted. “Just leave, get it over with! I was stupid to ever think…” He shook himself, slapping at the sides of his head.
“Stop.” I growled, my frustration taking over me. He looked up wild eyed as I grabbed his wrists and held them by his hips. I stood up, pulling him up with me. His eyes searched mine as I attempted to pull a poker face to hide my embarrassment. Kellin’s breathing continued to be hindered as his blushed cheeks puffed in and out in frustration. Unable to hold it in any longer, I did what I wanted to do.
I wrapped his arms around me and leaned in, feeling his breath. Looking up to meet his eyes as our noses touched, lips ghosting.
“You’re not alone.” I whispered against his lips as I closed my eyes and leaned in.