A/N: Erm... I know I've been gone forever (Sorry.) But, I've brought something! I'm tired of reading slash that's really unrealistic, like it's cute but you just can't see it. I'm attempting the opposite, so help me out with some REVIEWS!
Eventual Ace/Gordie Don't Like Don't Read Obviously SLASH
Warnings: LANGUAGE
When Ace Merrill was just seven years old, he vowed to never ever take after his father. Junior Merrill had never been an affectionate man. He'd drink after work, eat dinner, and make some smart-ass comment to his wife about her cooking or to his son about school or choice of friends. Ace had accepted that, but then it started. He started to wake in the middle of the night to his father's furious shouts and his mother's keens. It got worse as he got older. He'd come downstairs for breakfast, the delicious smell of pancakes, eggs, or sausage wafting through the house. He'd sit down, a huge grin plastered on his face, glad his father had already left for work, and then his mom would turn towards him, a sad little grin stapled on her beautiful, split lips. Even at ten, Ace knew immediately who had done this to his mother. He would be overcome with rage, the smile falling from his face. He spent his school hours thinking about how different he'd be from his dad, how once he was old and strong enough, he'd kick the living shit out of that man.
School had never been his strong suit, but as he grew into his teenage years, his grades dropped almost completely. His mom would tell him all about how he should really just try harder, because education was important, but when he looked at that woman all he saw was a defeated little shell of the pretty lady who'd once been so strong. So he started to hate his mother, too. He didn't know why she put up with his drunk, crazy-ass father. He didn't know why he couldn't protect her better. He'd try and get in between the two when his dad got on his loony-kick and end up on the floor, the blood dribbling from his nose staining the carpet.
"You think you're some hot shot, faggot?" His father would yell, gripping his son's short hair and pushing the boy's throbbing face deeper into the floor. It caused his eyes to water in pain. "Gonna cry? Christ, you ain't good for 'nothin."
Ace hated being home. Out in town, he basked in his bad-boy rep, one that had been established since he was young. He made sure it remained intact. He did anything to forget about what lay at home, and in his head all the little things he did to rebel were little lashes at his no-good dad. He'd fuck, drink, smoke, play baseball with mailboxes, bully little kids, and pull out his switchblade when he deemed it necessary. He loved girls. Or at least he liked the sex with them. Ace Merrill wasn't one to get attached to anyone. He slapped a chick once, after she gave him a hard time about screwing another girl behind her back. Afterwards, he puked up the whiskey and wished someone would come along and give him what he deserved, the beating of a life time. He hated that he was so much like his father.
When he was fifteen, he acted on curiosity. They tell you it's wrong, disgusting, and plain fucked up, but that was what he was, right? Couldn't resist the chance at such disastrous rebellion, and besides, he'd been wondering what it'd be like for a while. So experimentally, he fucked Eyeball Chambers. It wasn't what he'd expected at all. Eyeball was muscle, sharp edges, and strength. Ace definitely preferred soft curves, breasts, makeup, and long hair, but there was no denying he enjoyed his little trial. Of course, he wasn't some candy-ass so the last thing he'd allow to happen was this incident to be spilled so the town would come running to lynch the town flamer. It was a secret between him and Eyeball, and sometimes when he was really drunk and Eyeball was there like he always was, they'd misstep. But being the town rejects, why should they give a shit? Besides, it was just experimentation.
Ace was sixteen when they heard about the search for some kid's body in the woods by the train tracks. Charlie and Billy came running about the news. The gang jumped at the chance to be in the papers, to have some glory. Only it didn't happen. This little group of fags found it first. It was Eyeball's younger brother, the little brother of the town's late super-star, the crazy four-eyes Duchamp, and Billy's little bro. They were like twelve, and when Merrill and the Cobras came in the old Ford to pick up the body, Tessio and Duchamp went running. Ace pulled out his blade and made some threats, but Gordie Lachance just stood there, hard and detached look in his big eyes, and cocked the gun in his hand. Sure, he had Chambers to back him up, but he would have stood there aiming that thing at Ace even if he'd been alone. That was what caught Ace Merrill's eye.