porter_inc: (babyface)
Will, age 16

"Jeez, Pete, where'd you get that?"

Will stared wide-eyed at the flask his best friend pulled from his pocket.

"My old man," Peter whispered, unscrewing the cap and offering it to Will. "He'll never miss it."

Taking the flask, Will sniffed it and made a face. "Man, what's in there? Lighter fluid?"

"My dad's cheap scotch," Peter smirked, then took back the flask. "Guess you don't want any?"

"No thanks. I go home smelling like that and my dad'll kick my ass."

Peter took a quick swallow, then shook his head. "Will, your dad would kick your ass if he knew you were seeing me after he told you not to."

"Can't really blame him, though," Will teased his friend. "You got me drunk, Pete. You're officially a bad influence on me."

A soft snort and Peter nodded as he took another swig. "He'd hate me no matter what I did. Figured I might as well make it good." He gave Will a sly smile and leaned in, lowering his voice. "Your dad thinks I'm going to turn you into a fag, Will. That's why he hates me."

Will blinked a few times, trying not to notice how close the other boy was. "That's... No, he doesn't..."

"Why the hell do you defend him all the time, Will?" Peter sighed and eased back. "Don't worry. I won't tell anyone what we did."

A rush of blood to his face made Will feel entirely too hot very quickly. He tried not to think about what had happened after he and Peter had gotten drunk and been shuffled into his room after Will's mom had found them. It was easy enough to keep telling Peter that he didn't remember kissing him, but he knew how well his friend could read him.

"Pete... I..."

Peter held up the flask. "What? I'm talking about hanging out when we shouldn't." He gave Will a wink and took another drink. "What're you talking about?"

Will let out a relieved sigh and reached for the flask. "Nothing," he smiled.
porter_inc: (fic)
"How many eggs, baby?"

Will shook his head and sat down at the kitchen table. "I'm not hungry, Mom."

Inez immediately put down her spatula and walked over to her son. "How come?" she asked, putting a hand on his forehead. "Aren't you feeling well?"

He smiled. Since he'd moved back home, he'd had to get used to his mom wanting to take care of him. He had to admit that it was nice, especially with everything that had happened to him recently. "I'm fine. I'll just have some juice."

"This isn't because you're on some weird diet, is it?" she asked, worried. "You know you're supposed to eat a good breakfast every morning."

"Yup. And I'm supposed to floss and make my bed and take out the trash like a good little boy."

"Honey, I'm not trying to be a pain, you know," Inez said softly.

Will looked up at her. "I'll eat breakfast, later, Mom. I just don't feel like eggs right now."

"All right," she sighed and kissed the top of his head. "As long as you're okay."

He nodded, unable to speak for a few moments. When he'd left Seattle, he'd vowed never to tell his mom everything that had happened when he'd left Kevin. To tell the truth, he didn't want to talk to anyone about it, and was usually successful at pretending as if the attack had never happened. There was a part of him, though, that wanted to tell her so she'd understand why some mornings he didn't feel like eating, or why he'd sit alone in the backyard and stare at her prize roses for hours at a time. He was leery of her knowing exactly what kind of man his ex was, though. Shame was already a huge part of what he felt when he did let himself think about everything, but he wasn't sure he could live with his mom seeing him as a victim.

"Baby, what's wrong?" Inez asked when Will didn't say anything.

"I..." It would be so easy to tell her. As he looked at her, he knew she'd never stop seeing him as anything but her child, and she'd never think less of him. But he couldn't hurt her. "I think I will have some eggs, please," he whispered.
porter_inc: (fic)
Four topics, four hundred words, puppy-themed.

Furry )
Crap )
Ribbon )
Crash! )


porter_inc: (Default)

March 2007

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