No, Lauren, I didn't forget your Jayden. That will come soon. This was just- more precedent in a way. So yeah.
This one shot is gonna be weird. Just sayin.
AND BEFORE WE GET STARTED I JUST WANNA SAY MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL WHO CELEBRATE AND IF YOU DON'T WELL THEN I HOPE YOU HAD A HAPPY FRIDAY!
The mistletoe. It hung off the ceiling, the boy sighing as he watched it sway. He thought he had been smart, hanging the mistletoe up in order to get at least one kiss. Instead, he had gotten anger. He lightly ran his fingers over the bruises on his neck from where he'd almost been strangled. He hadn't expected him to get mad. He stared at the mistletoe as warm tears pooled around his eyes. He began to wish his love would've just stayed out and gotten drunk. Then perhaps it wouldn't have been this bad. If he had gotten drunk enough to wander home with some Barbie doll, he wouldn't have come home that night. He wouldn't have to feel this pain. He moved his head lightly but instead bit his lip to hold back a scream. The lump on the back of his head promised him he didn't have a concussion this time, which was a miracle. Even so, he definitely had something broken. He suspected it was his shoulder, as every little shift of his arm sent stabs of pain to his shoulder. How had it come to this? He only wanted a kiss. Just a small peck, even on the cheek. He didn't need anything more, just some sign that he loved him behind his drunken mask. He assumed he'd have to relocate his shoulder once the other fell asleep, it's not like he could go to the hospital for help. He'd only ever been there once, back when he got sober occasionally. He smiled at the memory. The other had beaten him bad the night before, drunk beyond understanding. In the morning, he had screamed at him again while pushing through the hangover. But once the hangover had passed, he'd cradled the boy tenderly. Promising to hurt whomever did this to him. If only he ever understood it was himself. Instead, the beaten and probably dying boy came up with a story, for both the other and the hospital. He'd been beaten by some man on the street, and he had no recollection of what this man looked like. The police said they couldn't do anything unless he knew who had beaten him. He never had the heart to tell his for-once-sober love that it had been him. He cringed as a hot tear slid through his blackening eye. He wanted him to be sober again. He just wanted to be held and coddled and promised he was worth it. Many would have just told him to leave, to get away from that monster. He couldn't, that monster was his everything. He was his life, his heart, his air. Without the other boy, he'd be nothing. He'd be a shell of what he is, just like he was as a child. This man saved him, so he'd gladly take a couple of punches for him. He heard feet storming down the steps and he scurried upright, ignoring the hot pain that filled every muscle of his body and turned his vision black for too many seconds. The other walked in, looking at the fragile boy before him. Tears were barely present as they coated his bruised cheeks and fear was clear in his barely open eye that was still swelling over. The older of the pain rushed towards the fragile boy, angrily kissing his lips. The injured boy squeaked at this action but melting into the kiss, no matter how much pain it was bringing him. The other released the pained boy, looking at his peaceful and happy face.
"You can't keep letting me do this to you. You need to leave me."
The injured boy forced his eyes open as the other said these words. He shook his head no, taking a step forward towards the other.
"You can't let me hurt you like this! You don't deserve this! I just- I can't control it..."
The beaten boy grabbed the other's arm and shook his head no once again.
"Stop shaking your head no! I just-! I can't do this anymore. I can't hurt you anymore. You need to leave."
The boy shook his head until suddenly-
"Stop doing that!"
A hand met the injured boy's cheek and he barely flinched. The other, however, cringed away, looking at the other fearfully.
"We- I- I hurt- I smack you. I just- I can't believe- How could you ever love me?"
The hurt boy tried to show the other exactly how but it wasn't working. He tried over and over to let some words out but only squeaks and gruff stutters came out. He began crying again as he tried so hard to say something, anything. He just couldn't anymore.
"See? You can't even talk anymore because I used to yell at you not to speak. I hated when you'd speak, it'd remind me that it was really you I was beating, and not just some punching bag. Shit, how could you love me? I'm a monster! I'm going to hell! I- I've hurt the only person who truly cares about me! How could I do that?!"
His usually steady voice was trembling and crackling. The other tried to comfort him but he kept shoving him away. He kept trying to talk, to say anything. Nothing would come out. Why wouldn't his damned voice work?!
"I- I need to turn myself in. So I- so I won't hurt you anymore."
The boy frantically shook his head no. He couldn't leave. He wouldn't let him. Even in his shaky and weak state he was still stronger than the other, he knew that for certain.
"Stop it. I'm going. There's nothing you can do to change my mind."
The injured boy huffed and gathered enough energy to grab the other's arm and pull him back from his strides towards the door.
"Let me go."
"No. S-"
The voice was cracked beyond recognition and was quiet and very weak, but it was still there. The other froze and looked at the injured boy who was now straining to continue on.
"S- stay. Stay he- here. Stay here."
The cracked and weak voice finally stuttered out and the other couldn't help but comply. Even in its weakest state, the voice still made him melt and his knees weak. The now violently shaking boy, exhausted from the energy he'd just excerpted, pulled the other next to him on the couch. He curled into his chest, flinching as the once calming scent now smelled of cheap perfumes and booze.
"Alright, I'll stay. But if I hurt you again, I'm not staying. I love you too much to let me hurt you."
"I- I lo- lof- lof-"
"I get it doll. Don't strain yourself."
And the couple both fell asleep on the couch. Little did the beaten boy know that his wish had come true, a Christmas miracle. He had not only gotten a kiss, but he'd also gotten back his love. And he was barely drunk.
Yeah. That's what I did. Deal wit it. I love you all so much. Thank you to those who have stuck around. Until next time, Peace my Cheeses!