Note- This is not an Outsiders AU. The Greaser/Rich Kid dynamic was a real conflict in the fifties, and Greasers were a real subculture.
Lukas Bondevik/Mathias Køhler (Denmark/Norway)
Lukas might be a rich kid, but that doesn't necessarily make things easy. He has been diagnosed with Antisocial Personality Disorder, and no matter how much he wishes it, he is not normal. He sees himself as a king and can't stand anyone threatening his power. One day, however, he snaps, and things go a bit too far.
March, 1958
America
.
Lukas hated the therapist. He hated understanding nods and gentle "yes, tell me more"'s and quiet white rooms. He hated the way his therapist spoke with an accent, hated the way she was so kind to him.
Above all, he hated his diagnosis.
Antisocial Personality Disorder. Short, crisp, deadly. Cold, hard proof that Lukas was not normal. He couldn't pinpoint the exact time when he knew he was off. Maybe it was when he was a child on the playground and shoved another boy. Lukas could not understand his tears, could not understand why the teacher wanted him to apologize. He didn't regret it.
Maybe it was the time when a girl walked up to him when he was playing with a bird. Lukas was just drawing little red lines into it with the broken glass he found, but when she saw it, she burst into tears and ran to get the teacher. It didn't make sense to him while they were all so repelled. He was just playing with the bird. It was just a game.
Maybe it was the general fact that he didn't have any friends through childhood. Everyone avoided him like the plague. Maybe they were afraid; maybe Lukas was different from them.
Antisocial Personality Disorder.
"Could you tell me more about Mathias?"
Lukas looked slowly up to the therapist. He must have mentioned Mathias earlier. He didn't remember what he told these people.
What could he say? Mathias was the first person who tried to become friends with him. Mathias was the person closest to him. He was kind, he was naive. "He's my friend."
The woman nodded. She was a new one. Lukas never stayed with the same therapist for long. "And do you have any other friends?"
The other people in the Vikings, his gang, spoke to him. He and Mathias were the leaders, after all. Emil, his brother, was somewhat of a friend. Lukas shrugged.
The woman wrote something down. "What is your relationship with your parents?"
His mother liked to pretend Lukas didn't exist. His father liked to hit him and spit profanities at his feet. He shrugged again.
The woman rose and extended her hand to him. "It was very nice to meet you, Lukas."
Lukas looked slowly from her hand to her face before gently taking it, shaking it quickly and pushing past her and out of her office. When he got outside, he ran.
He couldn't stand therapy.
When he got home, he slipped past his father at the television and his mother doing the laundry and went straight to his room. He locked the door and checked the handle to make sure it was secure. When it held, he turned around and felt under the mattress of his bed until his hand came in contact with cold metal. His fingers curled around it and he pulled it out slowly, resting it on his knee. He smiled.
Lukas had known for a long time that his dad had a gun. He had only recently discovered that his father kept it in his desk drawer and only stole it the day before, along with the ammunition. Lukas had all sorts of knives, but a gun was more dangerous. It was a thrill.
His father wouldn't miss it; he had no use for it. The gun was Lukas' prize now. He pushed it carefully back under his mattress, checking to make sure that it was completely concealed before leaving. He would never stay in his house too long. That was just asking for trouble from his parents, from his completely normal brother. He couldn't breathe in his house.
Spring had only begun, and the air was still rather cold. Lukas inhaled deeply, walking toward the train tracks. This was the only kind of air he could breathe.
The train itself only came by early in the morning and late at night, rushing down toward the poorer part of town, where the Greasers were. Where Winter was.
Lukas kicked a rock into the train tracks. It clattered along and lodged itself firmly into the gravel.
Winter was their rival gang. He and the leader, Ivan, had hated each other for as long as he could remember. They were almost constantly fighting. The Vikings had money and weapons, but Winter had strength and pride. Sometimes, that went a lot farther than having better weapons. Winter was unbeatable, but then again, so were the Vikings.
But they had never managed to defeat Winter.
Lukas gritted his teeth and kicked another rock, harder. Winter could not be better than them. Winter could not be better than him. He was going to defeat them. He had to.
Suddenly, that's all that consumed his mind. He couldn't be inferior. He was already inferior to his brother. He had to get rid of Winter.
It dawned on him. Tomorrow, there was another rumble. He had never had a gun before.
He felt himself grin. He had a plan.
Ivan wouldn't be the leader for much longer.
.
"Do you have to fight?"
Lukas shrugged- he shrugged a lot. It was easier than talking. He was in Mathias' room, sitting on the edge of his bed. The gun was heavy in his jacket pocket. He ran his fingers along it, savoring the cold of the metal. It was the touch of power.
Mathias paced tirelessly back and forth. He always had so much energy. He had the blond hair and light eyes that everyone else had in the Vikings. It was the same way with Ivan and his sisters, but he didn't think of that. "I don't want you to get hurt, you know."
"They're the ones who are going to get hurt." Lukas kept his voice monotone and even like he always did. And they would get hurt, much more than the Vikings would. They wouldn't be fighting on their own turf, either; some insignificant gang's instead. The Thunderbirds or something like that. He had only seen them a few times, and they were all weak. They were just a bunch of scared kids.
Mathias sighed, sitting next to him. "We don't know that. You know how I feel about you, I-"
"We're friends, and you don't want me getting hurt." Lukas watched Mathias' face for some sort of reaction- disgust at being called his friend, maybe. Instead, he looked nervous.
"We are friends, but that's not what I mean."
Lukas felt a tiny smile grow. They were friends. A faint warm glow formed in his stomach, an emotion he would only ever let himself feel for Mathias. Emotions would always get in the way, but Mathias was a loyal friend, and Lukas wouldn't be abandoned or betrayed. So this was okay.
Mathias wasn't done yet, though. He was having trouble saying whatever came next. "What do you mean?"
Mathias averted his eyes and took a deep breath. "You're not just a friend to me."
"I don't understand."
Mathias met his gaze straight on. "I love you."
Lukas could only stare. Mathias loved him, not as a friend. Like Emil loved his girlfriend. That wasn't right. He looked away. "Don't say that. Your father will get mad."
Mathias flinched at the mention of his father. They had a difficult relationship, and Mathias was always trying to please him. Lukas didn't feel anything seeing his reaction.
Mathias took Lukas' hand in his own. "No, listen. I really, really love you, and I have for a year. Please, don't dismiss me like that."
The pleading note in his voice made Lukas look back at Mathias, at the desperation in his eyes. Lukas hadn't loved anyone. At least, he didn't think he ever had, but if he thought about it, Mathias was always special to him. He might love Mathias. He might grow to love him. Mathias was the most important person in his life; maybe he already did.
"Are you going to say anything?" Mathias' voice was quiet, defeated.
Lukas didn't know what to say. He had never told anyone he loved them. So instead, he leaned forward and held Mathias, buried his face in Mathias' shirt, breathed his scent in. When he felt Mathias' arms warm on his back, holding him close, he decided that he liked Mathias too. He forgot how nice it was to be held.
Mathias loving him opened a new world of possibilities. He would do anything for Lukas, and he was already so naive. He would be blinded by his attachment. That would make him easier to control. "I love you, too." Lukas didn't know what he felt or what those words even meant, but this would make Mathias happy, and this would benefit Lukas.
Mathias held him like that for a long time. The gun dragged down at his jacket, a constant reminder of what was coming, until Lukas checked the clock and it was only ten minutes away. "It's time to go."
Mathias slowly pulled away, like he didn't want to. He looked at Lukas with a special warmth now. "Are you sure you need to do this?"
Lukas nodded and stood, leading the way. "If I'm not there, only half of the leadership will be, and that will weaken the morale of the rest."
They were meeting up at a park near that other gangs' neighborhood. Mathias insisted on holding his hand for much of the way. Lukas saw it as an inconvenience, but he went along with it anyway. It made Mathias ridiculously happy, after all.
When he saw the trees thin and the wire fence come into sight, Lukas snatched his hand back and steeled himself. Winter was already in position along with the others in the Vikings. Lukas took position and waited. Tino and Berwald were to his right. They were practically inseparable, and wherever Tino was, Berwald would be, towering above them all.
Across from Lukas was Natalia, who watched him with cold, flinty eyes. She kept glancing back toward the houses behind her. Lukas took note of that- perhaps there was someone important to her in that gang. That could always be exploited if he needed to.
Then there was Katyusha, who was much too kind to do any real damage. She would always fret over the condition of her younger siblings. She put their life above hers. There were three other, smaller, insignificant people beside them that Lukas skimmed over until he reached Ivan.
Ivan was a mountain of a man, constantly dressed in a trench coat and scarf, no matter the weather. There was no color in his clothes or skin or eyes. Not even in his hair; a light grey-blond. He noticed Lukas looking and smiled innocently. Lukas felt his blood boil, his hands clenching into fists so tightly his nails dug into his skin.
Soon.
Someone must have reached for their weapon or moved too quickly because all of a sudden Natalia was leaping toward him, switchblade raised, cutting an arc as Lukas jumped back. He took out a knife of his own, parrying her blow, his heart pounding and his palms sweating. He couldn't lose sight of Ivan. Lukas needed to get rid of him no matter what. Ivan had to go.
Lukas scanned the park for some kind of cover before he was drawn back into the fight by a punch. It hit him straight on the jaw, and he stumbled back, cursing under his breath. He braced himself for another blow, but it never came. When he looked up, Mathias was beating away his attacker. Lukas wasn't seeing only him, though, but the overgrown bush behind him.
"What the hell are you doing?!"
Everyone paused and turned to the source of the noise, a girl running toward them, flanked by four others. The Ravens, or whatever they were called.
Everyone was distracted- this was his chance. Lukas dashed forward, diving for the bush just as everything turned to chaos again. The gun burned a hole in his pocket. He scanned the fight.
A blond-haired tank of a boy was fighting with Mathias, two others who looked like brothers were keeping Tino and Berwald busy, and Emil was engaged with Natalia. The girl he had seen earlier and an albino were fighting some of Ivan's underlings. Ivan himself was with Katyusha, back turned to him, completely open.
Lukas slid the gun out of his pocket and turned off the safety, readying the shot. The gun wasn't for long distance attacks, but it would have to do. He braced himself for the feedback as he tightened his finger on the trigger.
Then, a flash of golden-blonde distracted Lukas as a girl ran in front of him, completely out of place. He quickly lowered the gun and relaxed his hand; he wouldn't want to kill anyone more than he needed to.
The girl was shoved and promptly punched back, missing her target completely as they ducked and she collided with the albino, staggering forward. This was incredibly strange. He had never seen the girl around the gangs before.
She wasn't there for long, however, because she soon turned around and ran off past the bush, back toward Lukas' neighborhood.
Lukas clenched his teeth hard. He had let himself get distracted, and Ivan had moved. He couldn't let himself slip like that again. Ivan had to be eliminated.
But instead of the rumble he saw before, two other people had joined the albino and were currently cutting through the fight. Everyone began to scatter, the Vikings running toward him and the wire fences. Lukas stood and followed, casting one last venomous glare at Ivan before climbing up and jumping back into his turf.
Ivan had gotten away. Ivan was still completely fine, unharmed, alive. Ivan was better than him. Lukas felt like he was suffocating. His hands shook as he put the gun back into his pocket and regrouped with the other Vikings. He tried to breathe deep, tried to calm his racing heart.
Lukas was inferior. Ivan was better than him. He had gotten away and Lukas had failed.
Everything was too dark. There were hands around his throat- there had to be. He couldn't breathe. Someone was strangling him.
Ivan escaped; Ivan was better. Ivan threatened his kingdom. Ivan threatened him. He needed to be eliminated. Erased. Destroyed.
"Lukas? Are you alright? You're really pale."
Lukas jumped, Tino's voice cutting into his storming mind. Tino was concerned. He was always the most innocent, kind one in the Vikings. He was the easiest one to control.
He looked around at the others all staring at them, that same concern on their faces. Yes, his subjects loved him. They would always love their king. Ivan could never take that away.
"I'm fine." Lukas steadied himself. Ivan didn't escape permanently. Of course, Lukas always had tomorrow. This was fine. "Just a little dizzy."
Mathias was immediately questioning him. "Were you hurt?"
Lukas shrugged. "I don't think so."
Mathias grabbed his hand and led him toward his house. "Here, I have stuff in case you are injured."
Lukas let himself be pulled along, intertwining their fingers. Even if he didn't love Mathias, his attention was still wonderful.
He tried to pull away as soon as Mathias' house came into view, but Mathias didn't respond other than holding his hand tighter. Lukas didn't care either way; it wasn't his parents he had to worry about. However, when they went inside the house, it was completely silent. Mathias led him up to his room.
"Are you sure you're alright? You were really pale back there."
Lukas nodded again. Mathias looked unconvinced and started searching him. "You would always get injured as a kid and you would never notice."
Perhaps he had. Lukas never felt pain as intensely as other people and it would take a while to notice when he was hurt. "Are your parents home? It's quiet."
"Oh, they're on a business trip. They'll be gone for the week. Why?"
Looking down at him like this, Lukas decided he wanted Mathias' hands on him in a much different way. He might not feel as much for Mathias, but he was definitely attractive. Lukas grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him up, kissing him roughly. Mathias took a moment to respond, leaning in passionately, hungrily. His hand tangled itself in Lukas' hair. Yes, Lukas definitely wanted Mathias to touch him like this. He leaned on Lukas, slamming them against the wall with unintentional force.
"Ah, sorry," Mathias broke the kiss, and Lukas immediately pulled him back, hands traveling all over Mathias' body.
"Shut up and fuck me."
Mathias responded immediately, his hands running along Lukas's torso and up his shirt. Lukas shuddered, surrendering to the intensity as Mathias moved down to his neck and his hands lower. He would simply forget for a while.
.
Lukas decided his favorite thing was seeing Mathias squirm. His favorite sound was Mathias' voice. His favorite feeling was Mathias' lips on his skin.
Mathias was currently holding Lukas close, his arms around him almost protectively. He would occasionally kiss Lukas' cheek or snuggle closer to him. He tried to nudge him away. "I need to shower."
Mathias groaned, his arms tightening. "Don't leave. You're warm."
Lukas couldn't help smiling. He trailed his finger down Mathias' arm. "Then come join me."
That rekindled a certain fire in Mathias and he grinned, leaning up to kiss Lukas. "Give me a minute."
Lukas went over to the bathroom and turned on the water. As he waited for it to heat up, he made the mistake of looking into the mirror.
Pale skin, white-blond hair. Blue eyes. Stoic face. He craned his head upward, examining all the marks that Mathias left. They would be hard to cover, but Lukas was used to hiding bruises. He looked up to his face again, and it all came back.
He had failed. He was worthless. His face contorted, his chest tightening uncomfortably. He felt the same loathing anger rise and he plunged his hand in the scalding water and began scrubbing out his reflection in the glass. Sanding away his face. Wiping away his features. Maybe then, he would look as empty and bland as he felt.
"Lukas?"
He turned around, lowering his hand looking over Mathias coolly. He made sure his face was completely stoic. "The mirror was dirty."
Mathias still gave him a bit of a weird look, but he took his hand anyway and led Lukas to the shower. "C'mon. Shit, how hot do you like this?"
As Mathias lathered shampoo into his hair, he could only think of one thing.
Hot enough to erase the strikes of his father. Hot enough to numb him. Hot enough to boil away his skin, his bones, all of him until there was nothing left at all.
.
School was hell. He hated it more than anything. Ivan was in three of his classes, and he would just smile at Lukas, mocking him, taunting him. Lukas found it was incredibly hard to pay attention when he was suppressing the urge to rip someone's throat out.
He noticed the same girl from that other gang was in his classes as well- her name was something like Elizabeth. She was surprisingly soft-spoken during class and only smiled at Tino. For Lukas, she had a cold glare.
"Hey. Hey, Lukas." Mathias tapped his shoulder. "Lukas."
Lukas shook his head slightly, realizing he had been staring at the girl. "What?"
Mathias was grinning wolfishly and Tino just raised an eyebrow at him. "Show him your neck."
Lukas glared at Mathias. He was a pain in the ass sometimes. Literally. "You didn't tell him."
"What? No way!" Tino leaned forward. "He was telling the truth?"
Lukas sighed and unbuttoned the neck of his shirt, pulling it down and moving his hair out of the way to reveal the series of marks. He had purposefully wore the shirt with the tallest collar he had for this exact reason. He shouldn't have thought that Mathias would keep quiet.
Tino whistled. "Well. I owe you a dollar, Mathias."
Now Lukas was the one raising an eyebrow. "What am I, a prostitute?"
Mathias winked. "You're mine."
Lukas rolled his eyes and returned to his work. "You're hopeless." He wrote out another equation and glanced up at the girl. She was talking to the albino now. Sometimes Roderich would join in, which was strange. Roderich wasn't a Greaser. Was he the girl's boyfriend? That would be disastrous. When people from different classes mingled, nothing good would come out.
Someone jabbed him in the ribs. He jumped, whirling around on Mathias. "You're so distracted today. What's up?"
Lukas gestured at the girl. "She was the one who broke up the rumble, from that other gang. Who is she?"
Tino smiled. "Oh, that's Elizaveta. She's really nice, you know? She talks to me sometimes."
That was interesting. Elizaveta was kind. He looked her up and down. She was surprisingly muscular for a girl, though the term seemed to loosely fit her. She wore a loose leather jacket he had never seen her out of and baggy jeans, her long hair tied back in a messy ponytail. Beside the green ribbon in her hair, there was nothing classically feminine about her. "Elizaveta."
"You're not checking her out, are you?" Tino lifted one shoulder in halfhearted shrug as he returned to his work. "She only has eyes for one person. That girl, Natalia. Ivan's little sister."
Lukas tensed at Ivan's name. His influence was everywhere, it seemed. He was more influential than Lukas- he was better. Lukas swallowed hard. "Is that so." This information was special; he could use it against Elizaveta in the future if he ever needed to. His mind flashed back to when Natalia kept looking back to the Blackbird's neighborhood- maybe that's who she was looking for.
Then, there was the fact of her being interested in another woman. He could use that as well. He wasn't surprised. After all, for some reason, quite a few people he knew were homosexual. They weren't out about it, of course- that would be disastrous. Lukas had simply learned to read the signs and recognize them when he could, not to mention that he suspected Tino himself had such inclinations.
The bell went off and the students streamed out of the class. Lukas quickly gathered up his things, setting off toward the gym. That was his next class and his favorite. In the pounding of his feet on the wood and the pounding of his heart it was easy to forget everything, not to mention that Ivan never came around to the sports section of the school. It was his territory.
That was why when he saw Ivan standing in the hall his vision turned dark and the breath was stolen out of his lungs. Air turned to hot tar. His hands shook and his heart beat faster. He didn't bring his knife. Why didn't he bring his knife? Ivan was here, in his kingdom. He was trespassing.
And then Ivan looked up to him and smiled and his stomach dropped and his feet froze to the ground and where was Mathias, he needed Mathias, he needed someone to ground him, and Ivan was walking toward him and no no get away but his legs wouldn't move and his lungs wouldn't breathe and Ivan stopped in front of him and held out a piece of paper.
"Where is this room? I am lost."
Lukas couldn't speak; his voice had left him some time ago along with his mobility. He looked down to the words on the page.
Knitting- A136
Knitting. Ivan was in a knitting class. What was he going to do in there, stab someone with a needle? He cleared his throat, forcing out a response. "It's on the other side of the school."
Ivan furrowed his brow, staring down at the writing. Lukas hated how he was so much taller. Then, Ivan smiled again and waved. "Thank you, Lukas."
As Ivan walked away, Lukas took a shaky breath and shoved his clammy hands into his pocket.
He wasn't afraid of Ivan. He wouldn't admit he was afraid of Ivan. He went into the gym and tried to slow his racing mind.
He had no reason to be afraid of Ivan. Ivan was nothing.
And Lukas was a king.
.
Lukas laid stretched out on his floor, his cheek pressed to the cold of the wood and his hand tracing the line of one of his knives. He counted his breaths.
He hated feeling so empty. He hated not being able to love Mathias, he hated not to be able to understand people. Regret and empathy were foreign to him. It was like he wasn't of the same species.
He didn't regret using Mathias. He didn't regret anything. It was strange to him to consider that Mathias could be possessed with something like love for a creature as wretched as he. That he would do anything for Lukas. He wanted to return that, because he liked seeing Mathias happy. Mathias was his pillar, his throne. Lukas needed him.
But he didn't feel anything. Just emptiness. It wasn't like he didn't like Mathias. No, he was one of the only people Lukas truly cared for. It wasn't any matter of self-loathing, either; he was a king. He had no reason to hate himself. He was missing something, and he didn't know what it was.
Lukas' door banged open and he jolted up, pushing the knife under the bed. He stood quickly, looking his father straight in the eye. He swallowed hard, cold fear freezing him in place.
His father locked him in an unblinking stare, slowly advancing on him. "Show me your neck."
Everything was hot and cold at once. Lukas' mind blanked. His heart leapt to his throat, pounding. "Why?"
"Don't ask questions." His father narrowed his eyes and gestured to Lukas' high shirt collar. "That's suspicious."
Lukas unconsciously covered his neck with his hand. He vaguely noticed they were shaking, but his mind wasn't there. His mind was swimming, confused, full of white noise, and the room turned dark. "No."
The word was out of his mouth before he could control it. His chest tightened and his breath came faster. He couldn't take it back- the damage was already done.
His father's eyes turned to cold ice and he stepped forward, slapping Lukas hard. Lukas flinched. "What did you say?"
Lukas didn't respond, his hand clamping over his neck even tighter. He stepped back, bracing himself for what was about to happen.
His father hit him harder, his head snapping back and his vision turning white-hot. Lukas gasped, unable to contain it. He stumbled backward, slamming into his dresser. Something broke and cut into his arm. "Show me."
His father's voice was deadly cold and too calm. It awakened primal fear inside him, turning his blood to ice and catching the breath in his throat. When Lukas kept his hand firmly over his neck, his father hit him again, harder, and he fell to the ground, tears blurring his vision.
Hot-knife hands and boiling fists. Red red red. Blood smeared on the wood. He couldn't tell where it was from. Everything was muddled, confused.
The fifth strike was what broke him. He curled up into a ball, sobbing. "There's nothing." He didn't know if he whispered or shouted it. "Please, please..."
This time he didn't resist his father prying his fingers off his neck, roughly pushing down his collar. There was a long moment of silence before his father spit on his face. "You goddamned whore."
He left then, slamming the door and leaving Lukas laying on the floor, completely still. He stared at the blood on the floor and realized his arm had dyed his sleeve red. He didn't care. His lips weren't bleeding, and his ribs didn't hurt. He took a deep breath. Nothing. That meant nothing was bruised or cracked, which was an improvement. He held onto thoughts like that as he slowly sat up, wincing. He wiped the spit off his face with trembling hands. He rolled up his sleeves, examining his arms. His left was a mess of blood, but the right only had bruises. Those were easy to hide.
He stood slowly and stumbled over to his mirror, examining his face. His face was red where his father had hit him, but only his cheekbone looked like it would bruise. It didn't matter. He had rice powder in his drawer. That was always good for hiding bruises.
He rinsed the blood off of his arm and bandaged it. It had taken even less time for him to give in this time; he was getting weaker. Lukas felt that same anger rise in him. He should have fought back. His knife was right under his bed. He could have done something.
But then he thought of hard fists and frigid eyes and the anger froze over. He could never fight against his father. He might be a king, but his father was a monster.
His fear quickly soured into anger. This was Ivan's fault. This had to be. Ivan was the one who made him feel so weak, so small, so inferior. If Ivan was eliminated, everything would be so much better.
Lukas went over and retrieved the gun from under his mattress, stuffing it in his pocket and throwing his hood up before he slipped outside, avoiding his parents. As soon as the post-winter chill hit his face, he smiled.
Lukas wouldn't miss this time. He wouldn't be distracted.
Ivan was going to die.
Lukas walked down the train tracks as the moon began to rise in the sky. It had to be late; Lukas estimated nine or nine thirty. Winter's neighborhood was just down the tracks. He knew it was, but everything was so incredibly unfamiliar. He didn't even consider that he had never been to this part of town. This entire plan he had was entirely impulsive. To make matters worse, the farther he went, the more lost he became, until he was in a foreign neighborhood. It was almost completely silent.
Lukas needed to kill Ivan. He needed to eliminate him. He couldn't stand feeling so inferior. Ivan led his gang because they liked him, because he was a good, kind person. People gravitated toward him. He was intensely loyal and would always defend the people who he befriended. He was cold and savage to his enemies. That was a threat.
Lukas was not a good person. Lukas was not kind, or oblivious, or naive, or any of the things Ivan was.
Ivan needed to die.
Suddenly, that thought was all that mattered. It consumed his mind, blotting out all other thought, suffocating him like cold fingers around his neck. He felt like he was drowning. He couldn't get enough air, he was lightheaded, he couldn't think straight, his father hated him, Ivan needed to go, he needed to die, Lukas couldn't be inferior anymore, he couldn't do this, Ivan needed to die.
Lukas started running down the tracks blindly. He only felt like he was free when he ran, ran away from his father, from his emptiness, from his life. He had to escape. He was caged, a bird with clipped wings. He needed to fly. He couldn't be inferior anymore.
He ran into something, stumbling back and falling down hard onto the gravel of the tracks. The breath was knocked out of his lungs and his vision flashed.
"Watch where the hell you're going, dumbass."
Lukas looked up to a red-headed Greaser staring down at him. He took a drag on a cigarette and flicked the ash. It spiraled down by his face.
Lukas couldn't stop the hurricane of emotion from overtaking him again as he looked up at the Greaser. This boy, no, this child, was the bottom-level scum of society.
And he was standing above Lukas.
Above him.
Like he was better than Lukas.
Something snapped in him. Everything turned dark, he felt like he was on fire, everything disappeared except for this insolent child above him. Lukas was not inferior to anyone. He was a king.
He tore the gun out of his jacket and fired. The boy stumbled backward, his cigarette falling to the ground and his mouth hanging open stupidly before he screamed.
"Shut up, shut up!" Lukas shot again with hands shaking so violently he almost dropped the gun. A constellation of blood splattered the concrete before him. The scream was cut short, the boy crumpling to the ground.
Everything was silent except for Lukas' heavy gasps. For a moment, he just stared at the body. Then, a thrill rushed through him, euphoric. He laughed breathily and pocketed the gun again. "I'm not inferior to anyone." And he wasn't. He was a king, and anyone who came in his way would be eliminated.
He felt someone's eyes on him. He spun around, searching the trees in front of the neighborhood.
There, reeling before the body, was a messy-haired brunet. Lukas took note of the length of his hair, falling to his shoulders. He would remember that.
His hand flew to his pocket again, sliding out the gun so that it glinted in the light. The man's eyes widened. "If you tell anyone, I promise that you'll be next. I'll be keeping an eye on you, and I'll see who your friends are. If I suspect anything..." He let his gaze slide down at the body in front of him. There was a long pause before he looked back up slowly, his voice deadly. "I'm sparing you now. Remember that. I won't show you as much mercy next time."
He sprinted away, not caring how loud his feet were on the gravel. He would make sure the man wouldn't talk. Lukas was an expert at manipulation.
As for now, he would go to the only place he was loved.
.
Lukas knocked on Mathias' door. The moon was high in the sky by the time he got there, the air frigid. He pulled his jacket tighter around him, wishing he had worn a warmer one. The fabric was too thin and hardly kept out the cold.
The door swung open and Mathias looked out, his grinning widely when he saw Lukas. "You just couldn't keep away from me, huh?" His eyes widened when they went down to the jacket Lukas was wearing and his grin dropped. "You must be freezing in that! Come here, quick."
Mathias pulled him inside and closed the door, immediately holding him close. Lukas leaned into the warmth of the embrace.
"You're shivering." Mathias held him tighter and Lukas closed his eyes. Being held by Mathias was the only thing that could calm him down. Surrounded by his arms and his scent, he didn't feel broken or inferior. He felt wanted. His heart slowed, his shivering stilled, and the last of the negativity in him slipped away.
"What happened?"
Lukas took a deep breath and tried to keep his composure. Mathias would know what he meant; it wasn't the first time it happened. "My father."
Mathias gasped softly. Thank god, he understood. Lukas didn't know how he would explain otherwise."Oh. I'm sorry."
Lukas half-shrugged and wondered why his throat burned. "I'm used to it." His voice was raw and trembled. He tried to swallow whatever emotion was coming through, biting his lip hard enough it bled. Emotion wasn't something he knew how to deal with.
"You can cry if you want."
Mathias' whisper was quiet and kind and suddenly Lukas was crying, he was clinging to Mathias' and sobbing because this wasn't fair, none of this was fair, he didn't want his father to hate him, he didn't want to have this damn disorder, he wanted to love Mathias. He wanted to love Mathias so much that it hurt.
So he cried.
Mathias didn't say a word the entire time. He simply held Lukas, his arms warm and supportive, and let him cry. When Lukas had calmed down somewhat, Mathias began murmuring, "it's alright, you'll be okay. I love you, it's okay."
I love you. He still didn't understand what those words meant.
Mathias pulled back and gently put his hand on the side of Lukas' face. His brow furrowed and his eyes seemed too bright, both angry and sad. "Don't worry. You didn't bruise too badly."
Lukas wiped away the annoying tears that still leaked from his eyes. It took him a moment to find his voice, hoarse from crying. "I want to sleep."
Mathias' eyes softened. "Of course, follow me."
The entire night long, Lukas shook as Mathias held him, shivering as if he was still in the night, even if it was warm. The entire night long, he jumped at any sound from outside, convinced that the police would come for him.
The entire night long, he could still feel his father's spit rolling down his face.