Hi world, hope you're enjoying so far.
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Andy's POV
I smiled when I read Dylan's message, warming from head to toe as I replied with a quick, "Wear something nice." My phone rang shortly afterwards, the caller ID flashing Dylan's name across the screen.
"Hey there sugar," I answered in lieu of hello. His voice didn't come immediately, and I started to worry he wouldn't speak at all when I heard the drag of his breath before a sob broke from his throat. "What wrong?"
"Can you come over?" He finally got out.
"I'll be right there, why what's going on?" I cast my eyes around campus to see if any of my professors had seen me yet then made an about-turn and headed back for the gates. It would probably take me about half an hour to get to Dylan's place.
"I don't -"His voice broke, "I don't know. Just come over here. Please. I'm losing my mind."
"Already on my way, do me a favour will you?"
"A... a favour?" I could hear the surprise in his voice. Damn he probably was feeling like shit if he couldn't even pretend to be the bad boy.
"Yes. Calm Spotty down for me, can you do that? Just sit with him and make him feel better." He was a smart guy, he could tell I was telling him to take comfort from a dog until I reached there. But I suspected he would take the task better than me telling him to cuddle with Spotty if he was afraid. I'd thought right.
"O-okay, I'll keep him company," his voice came ragged over the phone and he hung up.
I ran half the way and wheezed as I walked the rest of the way to a bus stop. Dylan so owed me a car for this, or at least free rides to and from college from now on. It took me forty minutes to get there, and by then I had palpitations and felt sick to my stomach. Whatever Dylan was going through, it wasn't easy for him. And I suspected that it was something similar that had driven him to be so stupid and run over Spotty. Who knows what he would do now? Wreck his home, kill the dog..... Hurt himself?
His security didn't ask me any questions, but he seemed almost saddened, and then sympathetic when he saw my haste. His door was still open, and the house seemed undisturbed, as if it was sleeping. The eerie silence only made me more worried. "DYLAN!" I yelled, then winced as the echo came back to me, did my voice really sound that raw?
I rushed back and forth before remembering that he might actually be with Spotty, like I'd asked.
I found him by the kennel, back against the entrance with Spotty halfway onto his lap, with only the wheels on the ground. The dog was quiet, but turned to look at me as I approached with hackles raised before recognizing me.
Dylan opened his eyes and I saw how red they were, and he seemed to be seeing straight through me like I was made of glass. When spoke his voice was raw. "You took your time."
I didn't bother with a snarky come-back, not when he was so obviously in pain. I went to his side and got into a crouch before pulling him in close. It was instinctive, and I had no indication that he would be fine with it but was glad when he turned into me and clung as if his life depended on it. Spotty whined low in his throat as he was disturbed by Dylan's movement and padded around, sniffing at us both.
"What's going on? Where's this coming from?" I had to ask, even if he didn't want to talk yet, I had to know.
He shook his head, "Just hold me for now. I'll tell you later."
So I held him, stroking his hair and his back in what I hoped was a soothing manner. For the first time I felt how truly fragile he was. Beneath the muscles and all the attitude he was just a broken boy. I really had to put a handle on my affinity for chasing after broken things but that was for me to consider at another time. For now I just let his tears wet my shirt and jacket, thinking about how his tears were probably mixing with my mother's from earlier that day. It was a depressing thought.
I felt when he went still against me, and his breathing deepened and slowed. He had fallen asleep like a puppy on me. Just knowing it made me tingly all over and fiercely protective of him, so that I pressed a kiss to his forehead. Then I swore under my breath, how the heck would I lift him to bed? I wondered if I could...
I shifted slightly, resting my butt on the ground and dragging myself up against the kennel wall. Dylan remained asleep, nestled against my chest with his hands awkwardly left draped around my torso. With me like this, Spotty soon realised that he could reach my ears and hair and kept trying to lick or bite me. There with man and beast, I settled in for a long afternoon.
When Dylan finally moved I jolted back into bright consciousness, having dozed off a little myself. Spotty was crouched weirdly at my side chewing a piece of blue cloth he had bitten out of my shirt. I gave him my best reprimanding look and he actually did look a bit guilty.
"How long have I been asleep?" His voice was husky, and pretty damn sexy for a guy that had drooled on the front of my shirt. He blinked away the laziness and stretched beside me.
"Just over an hour, it's only five," I assured him, glancing at my watch. My ass was numb, and my legs and right arm where Dylan had pressed up against. He still didn't sit up immediately and I grinned to myself. The little fucker was liking me. It made me feel better about my big crush on the stereotypical sexy neighbourhood boy. "I don't think we should go out tonight, you look like hell."
"Gee thanks. Thought you might bring flowers, not shit-talk," He retorted, but was smiling. "Yeah... probably best not to be seen in public anyway."
"What? You ashamed of me boy?"
"No!" He was really loud, and finally sprang upright. He looked me in the eyes, and I was transfixed by how very blue and sincere they were. "I'm not ashamed of you. It's my dad."
He was a grown ass man, what the heck did him going out with someone have to do with his dad? I rose a single, questioning brow, "Explain."
"I can see you thinking it. That I'm weak and a coward for worrying about my dad," He said, looking at the ground. "I'm not just weak, okay?"
"I don't think you're weak. Just tell me what's going on."
He looked up at me, probably to see if I meant it. I nodded and he inhaled deeply before going on. "He's been keeping tabs on me. Where I've been, who I've ..."
"Fucked?"
"- Taken an interest in," He clarified, "He has pictures too. Shit he might even have pictures of you, or of what I did to Spotty, I don't know. He hates that I'm gay, he always has, ever since he found out."
"Was is it with fucking fathers?" I said before I realised it.
""Heck if I know. But I know my dad isn't bluffing. He said he'd admitt me to a psych ward if I - Oh shit." He started shaking and stood up suddenly. "Shit, shit, shit! I'm sorry!"
"Hey," I called to him but he was freaking out, "HEY! Hey, look at me, don't worry about me and he won't do that to you."
"You don't know him. I know what he's capable of, and I'm telling you, the man hates me. I shouldn't have called you here. You need to go, or he'd ruin you and I'd be in the goddamn looney bin."
I crossed the short distance between us and crushed my lips down onto his, gripping him tightly, "I'm not going anywhere. Let's be smart, we can figure this one out." He was shaking his head even as I spoke so I kissed him again, "Do you really want me to go away?"
He wasn't thinking. He knew the answer but wouldn't even look at me. "What do you want from me? I'm messed up. Maybe he's right and I do need to go to a... to a facility."
"You're not fucking crazy. If he's messed with your head, that's not your fault, that just emotional abuse." I tousled his hair, teasing him. 'Never thought you'd have daddy issues. What's your mom like?"
"Spineless." He replied, shivering just a little. "We're a lot alike."
"You're not spineless," I said, shaking him slightly. "And stop thinking like that too." I began to lead him towards the house. So dinner was off then. And a psychotic father was threatening him and possibly me too. Great. This day was fucking fantastic.
Spotty saw us leaving and began to bark his head off.
"Did you even feed him?" I asked and Dylan shook his head no. I sighed. "So you hugged the love out of him and didn't feed him, wow you're meaner than I thought."
"Shut up, I can feed my dog, I just wasn't thinking straight."
I kissed his forehead just as we entered the kitchen, "You called him your dog."
"Well... He sorta is."
"Does your daddy know?"
"Fuck you."
"I know you want to."
"I do. But my dog needs to eat, then I need to eat." He was back to being fun again. I smiled, happy he wasn't crying.
"I'll cook you dinner."
"You can cook?" He seemed genuinely surprised, and more than a little turned on.
"Way to a man's heart right?" I joked, "Every gay might as well learn it."