Wes showed up at the house on the very last day of summer vacation.
Kevin was just returning home after an evening run, his limbs aching and his muscles heavy, perspiration running down his forehead and bare chest due to the sticky, humid air. After cross country practice that morning, it wasn't actually necessary for him to go out running for a second time that day, but with anxiety churning in his stomach every moment that his father was on duty, he'd wanted to distract himself. And for about the past hour, it had worked, with his only focus being pushing himself as far and as fast as he could. But in the growing dim of the evening, he found his energy completely drained, subsiding alongside the sun, leaving him with no choice but to return home.
A mixture of relief and trepidation churned inside of him when he turned down the road to where they lived on a quiet, isolated side street where the houses were separated by large lawns and thick brush. He kept up his jog to the edge of their yard and then slowed to a walk, ambling up the driveway. As he moved closer to the house, he took a moment to admire their elaborate front garden. Vivid blooms and leafy vines spilled throughout the front flower beds, window boxes, and front porch trellises, bringing vibrant color to their smart but somewhat subdued house. The vegetable and flower garden were two of his father's chief passions, and though Kevin didn't at all share his interest, he made a point to help him out with the maintenance every spring and summer.
But not this summer, since he'd opted to skip town.
. . . ran away like a coward . . .
Kevin sighed and wearily ran a hand through his sweat-soaked hair as he trudged up the steps to his front porch. He'd hoped at some point that he would at least be able to put Wes's threats out of his mind, bury away the memories of that night and pretend those events had never happened. But images were never far from his thoughts, and his dread and fear stuck close to him, surging up to douse him in cold whenever he almost managed to forget about them. The memories were constantly lingering at the very edge of his mind, not quite a chokehold but a noose that could tighten around his neck if he ever tried to step too far off of the gallows. And the worst part was that if Kevin ever made a misstep, he would bring Jughead and his father to hang with him. Hell, if Wes had tried to attack him that night, there wasn't much stopping him from hurting any of Kevin's friends.
Closing his eyes, Kevin tried to ward off the exhaustion coiling around his muscles and threatening to drag him down. He didn't know how he could keep going, how he could pretend everything in his life was fine, and a leaden feeling growing in the pit of his stomach that he'd so far tried to ignore was telling his that he, in fact, couldn't. Living life looking over his shoulder would screw him over either one way or the other, Kevin was sure, and it wasn't like he didn't need to watch for what was in front of him, too.
But he could manage, Kevin resolved, reaching for the front door. For his father and his friends, he would manage.
"Evening."
After months of living on edge, the single, unexpected word brought Kevin to jump, adrenaline rushing through his veins. His pulse only increased when he turned and found the owner of the voice.
Wes Ashford sat on the rough-hewn porch swing, the gray cat lurking a few paces away. With the growing evening dimness and the shadows created by the trellises that acted as a tall fence around the porch, Kevin hadn't noticed him right away. There had been no car to serve as a warning, either—Wes must have parked a few houses over, he realized, anger curling in his stomach, wanting to catch him by surprise.
Kevin intended to open his mouth and speak, but found that he could only stand and stare wordlessly as Wes rose from the swing and walked closer to him. He wanted to move as far away as fast possible, but it was as though he was locked into place, unable to so much as twitch as Wes approached.
"Heard you went out west to see your grandparents," Wes said casually.
It was a comment that would have worked in any situation—something he could say to Kevin at the station or at the police Christmas party or even in passing on the street. Somehow the utter normalcy of Wes's words just brought greater dread to knot within Kevin's stomach—at least if Wes had been harsh with him, Kevin knew what to expect. Wes acting as if nothing had ever happened between them, while true to his demands earlier in the summer, made his behavior harder to predict.
"Spent some time there, yeah," Kevin replied warily.
"Hmm." Wes came to stand right in front of him, less of a foot of space between them. "I hope that in your country-wide travels, you didn't forget about our agreement."
Kevin's heart hammered in his chest, and his throat suddenly went as dry as the desert. He knew Wes was making a point of intruding on his personal space as a way to intimidate him—and he was ashamed to say it was working. Panic sent his mind racing, but he still managed to reply in a somewhat steady voice.
"I've done what you asked." The words sounded rough and his own voice unfamiliar as he spoke.
"Good." Wes reached out and ran the back of his hand down Kevin's face in a gesture that was almost tender. But his blue eyes were hard, flintiness never once faltering in his gaze. "And for your dad's sake, you'd better keep doing that as well as anything I tell you now."
Letting out a shaky exhale, Kevin nodded, studying Wes's face, trying to determine why he was there. He was hoping that after their exchange, Wes would be on his way.
But no such luck.
"Aren't you going to invite me inside? You're making yourself a poor host." Wes chided him. With sudden force, his hand snaked out and gripped Kevin's chin, but his voice remained gentle. "And Kevin? You're going to want to be good to me."
Fury suddenly flared in Kevin's chest, overpowering his fear, and in that moment, he wanted nothing more than to spit in Wes's face and then drive his fist into his jaw. How dare he treat Kevin this way, how dare he come to Kevin's home, and how dare he threaten Kevin's friends and family.
But for now, he needed to obey Wes. So he merely gave a tight nod, fished his house key out of the pocket of his shorts, and unlocked the front door, letting them both inside. The whole while, he was very, very conscious of having his back to Wes, his stomach twisting nervously. He didn't like the thought of not being able to keep him in his line of sight.
And Kevin was right to be suspicious, because the moment he turned to face Wes after stepping past the threshold, Wes was already locking the door behind them.
Alarmed by his actions, Kevin moved to stop him. "Don't—"
But in an instant, Wes whirled on him and grabbed his arm, gripping his wrist with bruising force. "I don't want to hear it. C'mere."
He dragged Kevin into the front living room and pressed him against the wall. For a tense moment he just held Kevin there, and Kevin couldn't help but wonder if it would be worth it to headbutt Wes straight in the face again and then whale on him without stopping when Wes inevitably stumbled back.
All thoughts of resistance fled from his mind, however, when Wes commented in an infuriatingly offhanded tone, "You know, I've been waiting months for this," and then pulled him forward only to push him to his knees.
Reflexively, Kevin tried to rise, but Wes shoved him back down again, keeping one hand planted on Kevin's shoulder while he used the other to unzip his jeans and then free his cock. With deft movements, he ripped open a condom and unrolled it over his length. Kevin noted with disgust that he was already hard.
"I don't think I need to tell you what to do," Wes said, his voice unexpectedly quiet.
Bile rose in Kevin's throat at even the thought, and he couldn't help but remember all the times that he fantasized about Wes commanding him to do this very act, how he had trembled with excitement and anticipation at the thought. Now, cruel irony had the same thing happening in real life, but never in the way Kevin would have wanted it.
Trying not to think about what was actually taking place, Kevin complied with Wes's unspoken demand and took his cock into his mouth. While it wasn't the first time he'd been on his knees for another man, he wasn't very experienced, movements still clumsy and uncertain, and he steeled himself for Wes to lose his temper.
But his lack of finesse didn't seem to impede Wes, because it only took a few minutes for him to reach release, frantically thrusting deep into Kevin's mouth and practically choking him, all while keeping his fingers painfully knotted in his hair. Wes let out a long, guttural groan of satisfaction when he came, and at the sound, Kevin had never been so tempted to lunge forward and strangle another human being as in that moment.
Wes withdrew from his mouth, and Kevin fell back, gasping for breath. His stomach churned with nausea as he did, his entire body trembling with rage and shame.
If Wes saw the anger in his expression, he ignored it, instead pulling off the condom and stuffing it in his pocket before zipping his jeans and then offering Kevin a hand up. When Kevin didn't accept it, he grabbed Kevin's arm and yanked him up from the floor.
"Nice muscle," he remarked, squeezing Kevin's bicep. He only chuckled when Kevin automatically reared back from him. "You been keeping in shape for me?"
Kevin only glared at him and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. In that moment, it was all he could to hold back the tears of fury and frustration that were welling in his eyes.
Wes patted him on the cheek, a gesture that should have been affectionate but seemed crass in the given circumstances. "Your father asked me to check in. Seems that he was worried about you. Said you haven't been feeling well lately." He ambled over to the door, snapping open the lock to let himself out. Before leaving, he tossed Kevin a smirk over his shoulder. "But I'll make sure to let him know that you're doing juuust fine," he said, stretching out the penultimate word mockingly. "Until next time, Kev."
He exited the house, shutting the door behind him, and Kevin wasted no time in sprinting over to it and slamming his body against the wood to make sure it was closed, frantically twisting the lock back into place. Urgency pumping through him, he rushed throughout the house, locking every door and window, doing whatever necessary to keep Wes out, to make sure he couldn't take him by surprise again.
As he shoved down the final window and fumbled to swing the closure in place, a wave of exhaustion crashed over Kevin, followed by a flood of despair.
What was he going to do? What could he do? Even ignoring Wes's threats, it was just Kevin's word against his at this point. If he went forward to talk about what had happened, some people might believe him—Kevin knew his father would—but certainly not all or even most. Wes was respected among the police force—hell, Kevin's father trusted him enough to send him to check up on Kevin. The man had the community behind him.
What's more was that Kevin had no evidence about what happened, nothing that could lead to Wes's arrest. Without evidence to put Wes away, there was nothing to stop Wes from hurting his father or his friends after Kevin went forward with the truth.
He was stuck. For now, at least.
But if he could get something on Wes, Kevin realized, hope dawning in his chest, feeling almost like a foreign emotion, then he could have him arrested. It would have to be concrete, some sort of DNA or photographic evidence, but that proof and his testimony would be sure to to convince even Wes's staunchest supporters. He could get the evidence and be free.
But for now, he had to play along and do as Wes said without any kind of protest. Wes would get suspicious if he was suddenly eager, and any change in attitude, especially if he appeared willing at any point, could cast doubt on Kevin during a trial.
Still, he had a way out. He could barely believe it, but there was hope for an escape.
It was just a matter of keeping everything together enough so that he could make it out okay.
He could do that. It might take a while, but he could do that.
With a heavy exhale, Kevin trudged to the staircase and dragged himself upstairs and into the bathroom, turning on the shower. After peeling the sweaty clothing from his damp body, he stepped beneath the spray of hot water and stayed there for a long, long time.