Fiction_Online

Blissful Living

By NOP

You all know it, you all love it. Two boys growing up in a different way.
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*DISCLAIMER*
Warning contains gay content, if you don't like it don't read it. If you do like it, review it(sign the guestbook/forum).

Chapter 6

I didn't go to Robbie's house to try and talk to his mom; I didn't think it would help if I was there. I let Darlene, Tim, Rabbit, and Collin go without me. They called me latter and said they had seen him, poking his head through his draps, he had waved at them; but they couldn't get past Frank, his mother's boyfriend. Frank was a mean Son of a Bitch. She had traded on abusive husband for another. He'd hit Robbie a few times, nothing bad, just left a few bruises. Frank wasn't a good guy.

I was lying on my bed staring at the ceiling (clouded with smoke), unable to concentrate on my homework. I let "Without You I'm Nothing" rule my thoughts. I wallowed in my frigid room with my frigid thoughts. I made animals out of the lumps on my ceiling, and found the familiar faced in the paint streaks of the walls. I heard the phone ring downstairs. I waited for a bit, frozen, hoping the footsteps would come towards my room. I gave up hope just before I heard them outside my door. My dad knocked. I whipped up and opened the door. Shocked, he handed the phone to me without a word.

"Hello?" I eagerly asked.

"I'm on my way over." Then he hung up.

He was on the way over. He was coming over! He was on his way! I felt the jitters float through my chest. I ran and took a quick shower, to try and cover up the puffiness of my eyes. I was barely dressed when he knocked on my door. I eagerly answered it smiling broadly. He was here.

Robbie smiled back and walked in to my embrace. He stiffened up and tried to back away. I though my dad was behind us. I let him go and turned around, there was only air. I stared back at him in confusion.

"Well, I'm here." He smiled and swallowed hard, "Mom's out making the arrangements, and Frank passed out on the couch."

"You probably shouldn't be here." I smiled forgetting about his reluctance to be hugged, "They'll come here first." I grabbed his icy fingers and pulled him into the house, shutting the door with my foot.

My dad made his casual entry into the kitchen, where I was making turkey sandwiches, "Hey Robbie, how are things going?" He asked, trying to be friendly.

"Not too good, but it'll get better, I'm sure." He was sitting on one of the tall stools that rounded the island counter opposite of the cooking area. My dad patted his back slightly, Robbie stiffened and grimaced, turning his face so as not to be rude. I shuddered slightly.

"Things always get better." My dad offered, not noticing his reaction.

"I hope so." Robbie whispered.

I eyed him carefully. He was definitely bruised. His face showed a lasting pain even as he sat untouched on his perch. I laid the sandwich in front of him. I made the eye contact that I always tried to avoid, just so he could see my concern.

"Latter." He smiled weakly. I set a glass of grape juice by the plate. He finished his sandwich and ate half of mine, I wasn't hungry anymore, and downed two glasses of juice and two glasses of water. It seemed that he hadn't eaten or drank anything in days. He hadn't ever been one for more than one glass and one sandwich in one setting. Well, except when we quit smoking. The whole time I watched him shift cautiously. There came a knock on the door. That made him startle, painfully, and step off of his stool. He had fear plastered on his face.

I raced to the door trying to beat my dad. No luck. he was already making pleasantries.

"Hello, you must be Robbie's mom, he looks a lot like you."

"Yeah, well it's Robbie I'm here for." She saw me and glared.

"Well-"

"He's not here." I cut in. My dad looked at me with a questioning glare. "What? You come all the way out here to tease me like this?" I glared back at her.

"I wasn't talking to you." She measured the anger in her voice and turned back to smile at my dad, "Robbie ran off today, and I'm looking for him." She explained.

"He's smarter then that." I laughed, "This is the first place you came, I wager. He must have though of that." I smiled.

My dad looked back at the woman, "Well, I guess, I wish you luck, we haven't seen him." he lied.

"I'm sure." She glared at me, "If you do, tell him that I want him to be at the airport by four tomorrow." She seethed anger. "And keep that faggot a way from other children!" She yelled, pointing at me.

My dad slammed the door in her face.

"Give me a minute." He was really mad, but he was always good about calming down before speaking to anyone he liked. He took a few breaths and started to pace around.

I grabbed Robbie, who had been hiding behind the Island (out of view) and chewing his nails, and took him upstairs to my room. I could tell by his look that he smelled the smoke of the earlier cigarettes.

"Thank you so much." He let out a deep breath and walked into my room, he sat on the bed. I slowly shut the door. "I hope you didn't start again...." He trailed off seeing my continual stare.

"Let's see em." I whispered.

"Eh?" He looked nervously at me. My unrelenting stare dropped his eyes.

"Come on, now." I stated numbly, and walked to him. "Turn around." I crossed my hands over my chest.

He swallowed, but did so. he crossed his arms in front and pulled off his shirt. I immediately turned away. Small red sores were splattered around the dark black skin that covered most of his back.

"Damn him!" I yelled and threw a stress relieving ball at the wall. I nervously fumbled a cigarette to my mouth and lit it. The sight was too much for me without some sort of comfort.

Robbie turned around and grabbed my sulking soldiers, "It's alright, really. Don't worry. It won't ever happen again." He tried. He grabbed the fag from my lips and put it out in an empty candle-holder, "No more of that, remember?"

My dad knocked on the door, "Boys, we need to talk." he said sternly. I looked at Robbie and opened the door. At first my dad was a little wide-eyed over Robbie being shirtless, but noticed the bruises that crossed his ribs in the front, soon enough, "My God." He exclaimed and fell back a little. Robbie looked down and swallowed hard. He was embarrassed and nervous at the sudden scrutiny, he tried to hide behind his small t-shirt.

"So?" Robbie asked, "Can I stay here for a little bit?"

"Come on," My dad turned and headed downstairs. Robbie reluctantly followed, putting his shirt on carefully as he walked. I followed suit and was thankful for the covering the cotton cloth provided.

We ended up in the bathroom. Dad had him pull off his shirt again and sit on the toilet backwards. With delicate motions he dressed each red, bloody, scabbing mark with anti-bacterial ointment. "Get some ice bags." He told me. I left on my mission with what might have been a thankful expression. When I returned I found my dad feeling Robbie's side and Robbie crying as a result.

"What's this?" I inquired, feeling mad about the pain that was obvious.

"I think he has a broken rib." He looked at me and removed his hand.

"No need to poke him, just have him stretch his left arm over his head and you'll see it." I exclaimed, frantically illustrating the motion.

Robbie followed my directions painfully. It was clear to see that the fifth rib from the bottom, covered by a black bruise, was twisted out of shape and broken. I covered my mouth and felt faint.

"You need to file charges." My dad stated pulling ace bandages out of the cabinet. He wrapped one once around Robbie's chest then put a package of ice on it and wrapped it secure. He repeated this until his back was covered with bandages and ice. "You should report this." He repeated.

"I know." Robbie mumbled, sniffling.

"I can take you down to the police station tomorrow." My father offered.

"No."

"No?"

"Where would I go?" he shook his head, "Into some foster home with the same kind of abusive people."

"You can't say that, I'm sure they can put you with a nice family."

"No one here would take me in willingly. They never have."

"Have you been in a home?"

"Yeah, when I was six." He swallowed as if pushing back tears, "No one likes faggots around here." he sniffled a little.

I thought he would pull back and look at him with disgust, but I was wrong. My father actually leaned in and knelt by his side. He pulled Robbie's eyes to meet his and said, "I'll take you in. Or I'll help you get placed. I won't let them hurt you."

Robbie nodded. We helped him into the spare bedroom where he fell asleep. I watched him, leaning against the door frame. I watched him, lying on his stomach, with a pained expression on his face. He took short breaths that made the covers jump up and down. His arm was extended into the air off the bed, his nails were longer then I expected, given his horrible habit of chewing them.

"You're an item aren't you?" My dad asked behind me.

"Yep."

"He's in trouble for it isn't he?"

"Yep."

"You should have told me."

"Told you what?" I asked, turning and walking to the kitchen. I didn't want to wake up Robbie.

"That you're gay."

"Well I can't hardly tell you that, cause I don't know." I sighed. I pulled out bread, "Sandwich?"

He shook his head, "So, any others?" He asked.

"Other boys? God dad. Did you tell your parents every person you've been with?" I crucified him with a stare.

"Point taken." He backed off, "Just curious... I guess." He shifted on the stool, awkward hardly touches the tension he exuded.

"You want to know if I've had sex?" I asked eyeing he posture. I teased him with a willing questioning look.

"I just want to know if you're being safe about it." He didn't make eye-contact. We'd never made an attempt at the sex talk before. It was aparrent, with his communication skills, why.

"Ask away, I'm open about it." I shrugged. I really didn't care what questions he asked. Nothing could be worse then the fear that I had had of telling him about Robbie.

"Have you?" He asked, looked up and then back down, "Um, have you had sex?" He clarified.

"Yes." I responded, "With a few girls, back in Pennsylvania."

"Damn they start early, don't they." He laughed.

"Yeah, I guess. Freshmen mistakes." I laughed, "They were a year older."

"Well, then." he cleared his throat.

"Yes, safely." I sighed, "I think you're giving me too little credit." I slapped peanut butter on the opposite side of the grape jelly.

"No boys then?" he asked.

"No, not yet." I lied.

I slightly relieved look came over his face. I repayed him for his kindness.