When He First Said I Love You

Entry 1:

My therapist says I should write down events that make me happy or sad or things I remember from the incident. I guess that's some good advice, she says its away to help me recover. I guess I made it online because something tells me other's who've had my similar experience would be able to know its okay to talk about it. People don't think it's a flaw that you have that made you a victim. I guess I should explain to those of you reading this who know me but haven't heard the story; I'm not talking about my bashing. I'm happy to say I'm fully recovered from that. And I have Brian to thank for that. No, this is another story entirely about how "Justin Taylor Began Therapy". For those that have a heard time reading graphic information, you might want to stop reading now.

I'll start from the beginning and skip the back-story. Just know that Brian started his own company and it was thriving, our relationship was stronger than ever and I was readmitted to PIFA after the whole Stockwell mess. Things were starting to look up for Mr. Kinney and I when this whole new obstacle began.

It was Friday the 13th, how ironic? I was on my way to class… wait, no because it was Friday I was on a different schedule, so I was in the courtyard with my sketchbook on a stone bench with the blasting melancholy angst of Dashboard Confessional filling my ears through a head set. That's when he came up.

I'd never seen him before. But he was so damn fine. Probably about 6'3 with the most amazing body I'd seen since the Best Bod contest at Babylon. I was in awe but I was faithful to Brian. I wasn't interested in his fake abs and his overly pretty face. He looked like an Abercrombie model and that type wasn't for me. So I went back to my drawing and my DC. He took the liberty of sitting down beside me without an invitation to do so. I'll admit that upon his ass hitting the concrete seat, my heart sped up. Faithful or not, no one ever said anything about flirting being off limits.

"Hey, I'm Nick." He said in one of those sultry tones that were completely fake and so obvious he was hitting on me.

"Justin." I mumbled, totally turned off now.

He moved closer to me and I tensed a little hoping he'd get the hint I was uninterested and back off. He obviously didn't because he slung his arm around my shoulder and pulled me to him. I didn't feel good suddenly because I really wasn't interested, meanwhile mentally cursing the fact that the courtyard was empty and this body builder could pretty much do whatever he pleased and no one could stop him, not even me who was about 100 pounds lighter and 10 inches shorter.

"Don't tell me a gorgeous boy like you is a straight boy," He teased, breathing on my neck. Oh I wanted to puke.

"Even spaghetti's straight until you heat it up," I choked. "I'm queer and taken. I have a partner. We're exclusive."

So I lied a little. We weren't but Nick didn't know that and Brian wasn't here to dispute that.

"We all have a partner, kiddo," he sneered.

"Well, I love mine and I told you we're exclusive so I'm not interested." I snarled and pushed him off, grabbed my shit and started to leave.

He grabbed the hood of my shirt and yanked me back so hard I lost my balance and tumbled into his arms. I struggled against him and his massive arms but he threw me down and pinned me. I remember kicking him hard in the stomach but he didn't waver. The courtyard was empty still as he ripped my jeans open, pulled them off and spun me so that I faced the ground. As my face smashed against the pavement I felt the blood trickle down into my mouth. He slammed against me and his hard cock ripped through my rectum like a serrated knife. And the only sound in the courtyard now was the sound of my own screams.

I remember him finishing his way with me as I lay there in the edge of consciousness and a black abyss of numb that threatened to engulf my entire being. He smacked my ass and kissed my neck leaving me there to pass out, bleed and probably die.

"Later Sunshine," he said sneeringly.

I blacked out.

When I woke up in the hospital it was like waking up from the bashing. This time when I came around however, I wasn't alone. There was someone with me and I expected it to be my mother. But it wasn't my mother. Sitting beside me was Brian. His hands were clasped tightly to mine and he almost looked like he was praying. His hair was a mess, he had at least three days of a beard grown and he was in his white wife beater and black jeans. In fact, he seemed to care very little about his appearance, which should have told me right there and then that he loved me.

"Brian…" I whispered my throat was dry.

His head shot up his eyes wide and he looked at me with a mixture of fear and relief. Realizing I probably noticed this he quickly masked it to be calm and cool.

"Heya Sunshine," he quipped, the name made me shiver. "Welcome back."

"How long was I out?" I smiled a little.

"About a week, give or take a day."

"Another coma?"

"No, you were just exhausted."

I nodded and he moved to kiss me but I pulled away with panic envisioning Nick and his harsh blows followed by sloppy wet kisses. I heard the heart monitor I was on go ballistic and Brian was trying to calm me down in a very soothing un-Brian like fashion. I realized slowly that this was Brian and not Nick.

When I finally relaxed Brian took me into his arms and held me close against him, my head was resting on his chest as sobs racked my body, like I was a child woken from a nightmare and my memory went back to the many nights he comforted me after the prom. I could hear his heart, steady and strong as it beat in his chest and it helped me to relax. I knew he was there to protect me and would never hurt me.

"Hush Justin, you're okay. Calm down you'll be alright." He whispered such things to me over again while rocking my gently like I were Gus.

I sniffled. "I love you,"

He smiled and pulled me away to look me in the eyes. He hadn't really looked me in the eyes this intensely before and for a moment the monitor sped up because I was a mix of frightened and intrigued. He brushed some hair from my face and I think the look on my face must have been some awed affirmation of the words I just spoke because he smiled, kissed my forehead and whispered into my locks of golden hair, as he has described them so often…

"I love you too."